Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes; or, Exploring the Mystic Isle of Mackinac

Five minutes afterward Jack duplicated his feat, only this was even a larger fish than the first. So the time passed. Josh was busily engaged near the tents which he, Herb and George had erected; while Jimmie was doing something aboard the Tramp.

“Where’s Nick?” asked Herb, after a long time had elapsed. “I hope the silly fellow hasn’t gone and lost himself now. A fine time we’d have hunting that fat elephant through all that bush.”

“He was here only a little while ago,” remarked George, looking up.

“Looky yander, an’ ye’ll see him!” exclaimed Jimmie; “over beyant that dead three. Sure, he do be sneakin’ up on something or other, and thryin’ till coax it till kim till him. I say the baste now. Oh! murdher! by all the powers, somebody call out till him to sthop it!”

“Why, what’s the matter with him?” asked Josh, coming to life at the prospect of perhaps seeing his rival for high honors in the farce line duplicate his ridiculous feat of taking a header into the mud and water.

“Look at him, would ye, the crazy wan!” gasped Jimmie, “thryin’ till coax a baste loike that!”

“Is it Jocko?” queried Josh, unable to catch sight of the other just then.

“The little monk ye mane?” replied Jimmie. “Och! that would be aisy now. It’s tin times worse than that. Call till him, Herb; I’m that wake I can hardly spake above a whisper. ’Tis a terrible danger he be in, for the animal is a white and black skunk; and poor innocent Nick, I do belave he thinks it be a pretty pussycat!”

CHAPTER X

MAROONED

“Leave it alone, you Buster!”

“Get behind a tree, quick!”

“Run, Buster, run for your life! It’ll get you!”

George, Herb and Josh sent these warning cries at the top of their voices. As to whether the object of their combined concern heard, there could be no reasonable doubt; for Nick immediately waved one of his fat hands disdainfully toward them. Evidently he imagined that his chums were envious of his great good luck in finding so splendid a chance to annex a beautifully striped real Canadian pussy cat.

“Oh! murdher!” ejaculated Jimmie, “look at the rickless fellow, would ye? Sure, he manes to grab it, so he do!”

“But he won’t, all the same!” cried George, grimly.

Since shouting and gesturing seemed to have no effect upon the imperiled youth, all the four boys could do was to stand there, holding their breath, and watching the dreadful developments. Nor was that the first time or the last that they found occasion to hold their breath.

Nick by now believed that he had wheedled enough, and was within proper striking distance. They saw him make a sudden forward swoop, with extended arms, as if bent upon giving the intended victim no possible chance of escape.

“Wow!” yelled George, as he saw Nick stop short, throw up his arms, and almost fall to the ground.

One terrified look Buster gave the object of his recent admiration. Then turning, he ran as well as he could toward camp, gripping his nose with both hands.

“Keep off!”

“Don’t you dare come near us, do you hear!”

“Now you’ve gone and done it, Buster! That’s what you get for wanting to bake poor little Jocko!”

George, as if in desperation, jumped over and picked up his gun.

“Stop where you are!” he cried. “We’re willing to talk this thing over; but at a proper distance, do you hear, Buster?”

Poor Nick was aghast. Almost overpowered by the terrible fumes as he was, it looked like adding insult to injury when his own chums turned against him, and refused to let him enter the camp.

He did come to a halt some thirty feet away, and with one hand, clung to a sapling; while the other was trying to keep the powerful scent from smothering him.

“What can I do, fellows?” he asked, pitifully.

George was almost bursting with laughter, but pretended to look as stern as his father when serving in his capacity as judge of the court.

“First promise that you won’t attempt to enter the camp without permission!” he demanded.

“I promise you, sure I do,” groaned Nick swaying weakly alongside his support.

“Jimmie,” went on George, “you go and call Jack in, if he isn’t on the way here already, after all this racket. We want everybody to have a hand in deciding Buster’s fate.”

“Good gracious!” cried the wretched Nick, “what d’ye mean, George? Do I have to be shot, because I made a little mistake? I give you my word I really thought it was a Canada species of cat. And if we had to have a menagerie along with us, I was going to match her against your monkey. Oh! why didn’t I think? I ought to have known better. It was awful, fellows; shocking I tell you!”

“I agree with you, Buster,” remarked George, putting his fingers up to his nose, “please go a little farther away. We can talk better then.”

Jimmie had hardly reached the shore before he started back. And Jack was seen following close behind. Evidently, then, the fisherman must have heard the loud outcries, and speeded his little boat for the landing, anxious to know what could have happened to Nick.

He had no need to be told. One hardly required to be within sixty feet of poor Buster to understand the entire story. Jack did not laugh though doubtless later on the incident would afford him more or less merriment. It was a serious matter, as he well knew, and must affect every one in the party.

“Jack,” called out Nick, looking beseechingly at the commodore of the fleet, “take my part, won’t you? They want to shoot me, or do something as bad, just because I didn’t know the gun was loaded. Please take that thing away from George. He looks so fierce I’m afraid of him!”

So Jack, to ease the mind of the fat boy, who was really shivering with anticipation of dire results springing from his blunder, did take George’s gun from his unresisting hands, and laid it aside.

“But Jack!” exclaimed Herb, “something’s just got to be done. We can’t bear to have him in camp with us, you know, after this. And think of me having to stand for that dreadful smell day after day. Wow! it would knock me out. I’d want to jump over in the deepest part of Lake Superior.”

“I don’t see what can be done,” said George, “except to maroon him here on this foreign island until we come back again. By that time perhaps it won’t be so very bad. Herb can keep him in the dinky towing behind, and stand it.”

At that poor Nick set up a fresh howl.

“Don’t you dare think of doing that,” he cried, shaking his fat fist at the author of the suggestion. “Why, I’d starve to death in no time; not to speak of being devoured by the wild beasts. Think up some other way, won’t you, please, Jack? Don’t listen to George. He’s got it in for me because I gave him so much bother on that Mississippi cruise. I want you to fix it up, Jack. You’ll know how.”

Jack still looked very grave.

“Well, you understand that in a case of this kind only desperate remedies will do, Buster?” he began.

“Yes, yes, I know;” whimpered the other, “and I’m willing to do anything you say, Jack; but don’t leave me here over in a Canadian wilderness. It ain’t human, that’s what!”

“All right,” Jack proceeded, solemnly, “if you give me your solemn promise to obey. First of all you must strip off every bit of clothes you have on.”

Nick began at once, and with eagerness.

“Will it wash out, then? Oh! I can rub like a good fellow, I promise you; only give me a chance!” he exclaimed.

“All the washing in the world wouldn’t take that scent out,” George declared.

“There’s only one way, and that is to bury the clothes!” said Jack.

“What?” gasped the astonished Nick; “and me go naked? Good gracious! Jack, I just can’t do that! Make it easier for me, won’t you? Why, I’d get my death of cold. Besides, what would I do when we got to the Soo? Please tell me something else.”

At that the boys could hold in no longer, and a shout told that they were beginning to see the comical side. But Jack waved his hands.

“Be still!” he said, sternly. “This is no laughing matter. Never fear Buster, but you’ll be able to rake up enough clothes to last till we get to the Soo, where you can buy a new outfit. Off with every stitch, now. Then you must dig a hole and bury them; or else carry the lot deep into the bush here, as you choose.”

“Is that all?” asked Nick, tremulously, as he hastily tore the last remnant of his garments from his stout person.

“Not quite,” replied Jack. “Get rid of the stuff next. Then come back to where you are now. I’ll be waiting for you with a pair of short scissors I happen to have along with me; for you see I’ve just got to cut all your hair off!”

“Oh! what a guy I’ll be, Jack,” moaned poor Nick. “I’ll sure never hear the last of this thing.”

“Think of us!” said George, sternly, “how we must remember it for days and days. You’re getting off dirt cheap, Buster, let me tell you. I’ve heard of fellows who had to live like hermits in the woods for weeks.”

“Now get busy,” observed Jack. “The boys will be rooting out your bag, and I’ll fetch what clothes we can gather to you. We must do all we can to smother this perfumery factory.”

“Yes, be off wid ye!” said Jimmie, bent on having a hand in the game.

Nick stared mournfully at the clothes on the ground. Then he slowly gathered them up in his arms. They noticed that as he walked away he looked around with exceeding care at every step he took, as though not for worlds would he want to renew his acquaintance with that pretty striped Canadian pussy cat.

Jack was as good as his word. When George and Herb had collected an outfit calculated to serve poor Nick until they reached a land of plenty, and clothing establishments, he carried the lot to the place appointed.

Here came Nick presently with a most dejected air; and groaning in spirit the fat boy allowed the other to shear off all his abundant locks.

He certainly did look like a guy when the job was completed, for Jack made no pretentions towards being a barber, and there were places that had the appearance of being “chopped with an axe,” as George privately declared later, when viewing the work of the commodore.

After that they made Nick take a long bath. Indeed he thought he would never get out of the water, and his teeth were chattering before the embargo was finally raised.

Fortunately that wonderful red sweater which had attracted the bull toward the wearer not so very long since, had been safe aboard at the time of his recent mishap, so that Nick could depend on its warmth. He was grateful for small favors just then; and quite subdued for a whole day; though nothing could keep a buoyant nature like his in subjection long.

Of course he would never hear the last of the joke, and must stand for all manner of scoffing remarks, as well as uplifted noses when he came around. But Nick would live it down in time.

And no doubt, when the account of the cruise was read over during the next winter, Nick would join in the general laugh when he discovered that Jack had called this temporary stopping place on Canadian soil “Kitty Kamp.”

It was night before Nick was allowed to come into camp; and even then they made him do penance by sitting off in a corner by himself, “just like I was a leper,” as he declared, though bound to submit to the indignity.

But “it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,” and at least Nick escaped guard duty that night, for nobody wanted to sit up with him.

George declared that the very first thing he meant to purchase when he arrived at the city at the rapids was a bottle of violet water, with which he could saturate himself for a season.

But by morning the terrible effect had in part died away; though possibly familiarity bringing about contempt may have had considerable to do with their noticing the disagreeable scent less.

Of course all of them were glad to get away from that camp. To Nick in particular its memory would always evoke a shiver. When brought to book in connection with the adventure he always declared that it was what a fellow got for wanting to invade foreign countries, and meddle with unfamiliar animals belonging there.

But Jack and the others felt sure that Buster from that day forth would know the great American skunk a mile off, and shy at a closer acquaintance.

They got away at a reasonable time, and continued their northern progress through the crooked St. Mary’s River. On the way they saw numerous nooks that aroused the sportsman spirit in Jack; for he just knew the gamy bass lurked in those inviting waters, awaiting the coming of the fisherman. But there was no time to spend just then in seeking sport.

At about eleven o’clock they passed the smaller rapids, a most picturesque spot, where the water rushed boiling through many channels, and innumerable lurking places for the spotted trout seemed to invite a stay. But the Soo was now close at hand, and all of them were eager to look upon the famous big rapids, unexcelled for beauty and grandeur in all the land.

When the three motor boats presently reached a point where the little city on the left hand shore as well as the foamy rapids, and the railroad bridge stretching from Canada to the Michigan bank, came into view, the boys involuntarily waved their hats, and sent forth a cheer.

CHAPTER XI

DOWN THE SOO RAPIDS

“Alabama! here we rest!” cried George, as they kept booming along up the strong current of the river, until a spot was reached just below the foot of the rapids.

Not many steamers stop at the Soo, save those which run in connection with the tourist travel, between Mackinac and the rapids city. But there is a constant procession of steamers, and whaleback grain barges going in both directions, day and night, all during some seven months of the year. The tonnage of the government canal through which these boats pass around the rapids far exceeds that of the Suez Canal for the entire twelve months.

After finding a responsible party in whose charge the three brave little boats could be left, the cruisers proceeded to take in the sights.

Of course the rapids came first, and they viewed these from every angle. Jack was also deeply interested in the government fish hatchery on the little island; and watched with an envious eye the various pools in which scores of enormous speckled trout, weighing upward of seven pounds, were kept.

“Wait till we get to the Agawa,” he said, shaking his head with determination. “I want to find out how some of those whoppers feel at the end of a line.”

Nick had made for a clothing emporium, where he fitted himself out in some new clothes. Of course he did not explain just why this was necessary; but judging from the suspicious looks cast upon him every time he came near the clerk, the latter could give a shrewd guess concerning the truth.

Jack was still watching some of those giant trout jump out of the water in the pool when he dangled a long blade of blue grass so as to make the feathery end touch the surface like a fly, when George joined him; for they had settled upon the hatchery as a sort of rendezvous where they could come together, so as to take the thrilling ride down the rapids in a big Indian canoe.

“All off, Jack!” said George, trying to look sober; though there was a merry twinkle in his black eyes that belied the solemn cast of his face.

“What do you mean?” asked the other. “Anything more happened to that fellow Buster? Or perhaps it’s Josh who’s bent on halting our expedition now, with some caper. Go on, tell me.”

“Oh! you’re away off,” grinned George. “I only meant to inform you that they’re gone on ahead of us.”

“I suppose you mean the Mermaid,” Jack remarked.

“That’s right,” George responded, promptly. “Left here this very morning for a cruise through the Big Lake. Went through the canal about breakfast time. Seems as if we’re just bound to keep tagging at their heels, don’t it, Jack? I suppose we’ll hear a howl from Buster now, because he is cheated out of seeing that fat Miss Sallie again.”

“Buster has enough to think of in other directions, I suspect,” smiled Jack.

“Well, I should guess so,” added the other. “Imagine, if you please, Nick trying to call on any young lady at present. She’d be apt to have a swooning spell. For a time Buster will have to cut out all thoughts of girls’ society. He can thank his lucky stars that his chums allow him to hang around.”

“Have you had any lunch?” asked Jack.

“I think there’s the rest of the bunch coming along the stone walk by the canal, right now. Perhaps we’d better postpone our little ride down the rapids until we get a bite. Buster will be starved.”

“There he is dogging the footsteps of the rest,” remarked Jack. “Herb is being cruel to the poor old chap. He won’t let him join them. I guess he’s suffered about enough by now, and we’ll have to let up on it.”

“Sure we will,” agreed impulsive George. “Anyhow, we wouldn’t have the nerve to make Buster take a canoe by himself, and shoot the rapids. Let’s start out and join them. Perhaps Buster had discovered a good feed place, in his wanderings about the town.”

“Ten to one he’s noticed a dozen; and perhaps had a few bites before now,” and Jack led the way across the little bridge connecting the island where the hatchery was situated, with the main shore.

Nick gladly admitted that he had marked a promising restaurant during his foraging expedition in search of the suit of clothes, which he had taken to the boat and donned.

“It ain’t a tony place, fellows,” he argued; “but considering the circumstances, er – I thought we wouldn’t care for style.”

“Why, no, not just at present, Buster;” George said. “You’ve got a level head for once. We’re going to forgive you now, and restore you to good standing, on condition that you never, never again try to stock the camp with a menagerie of strange animals.”

Nick promptly held up his right hand.

“I give you my word, boys, and thank you. Please overlook any slight association between myself and our recent invasion of Canada. And now come along. I tell you I feel as if I could clean out all the restaurants in the Soo. I only took a light breakfast you know, because of low spirits.”

Josh held up both hands in despair, though he said not a word. There are times when silence is much more suggestive than any flow of language; and every one understood.

An hour or so later, before half-past two, they were on the little beach, talking with a couple of wiry-looking men, who claimed to be sons of the famous old guide of the rapids, John Boucher, who died a few years ago, after having carried thousands and thousands of summer tourists in his canoe through those swirling rapids, without ever a disaster.

Then the entire bunch of six boys took their places in the big and staunch canoe, with a wielder of the paddle at either end. Jack happened to occupy a position near the man in the stern, whose post is always the more important, since he guides the destinies of the swiftly running craft, while the one in the bow fends off from impending rocks.

Jack had taken this position more to observe how the experience affected his chums than for any other reason. He certainly never once dreamed that there might be a Providence in such a small thing as his choice of position.

Then began the first stage of the run, with the two Indians pushing the laden craft upstream by means of stout poles. They kept close to the shore, finding a way around the numerous rocks, and other obstacles, where the water boiled madly; and by slow degrees approached the railway bridge, under which the start is generally made.

“Ain’t this simply glorious?” demanded Herb, as they found themselves surrounded by the churning waters, and gradually leaving the shore farther away.

“Wait!” said George, “if you think this is fine, what will you have to say when we get to running the rapids in fact? I’ve been through some smaller than these, and can guess how it feels.”

“My! I’d like to keep doing it all day!” remarked Nick, feeling something like himself again, since he had been restored to favor once more.

“Well, at the rate of fifty per, your bank account would soon collapse. Besides, they say that the excitement is bad on fat people, so that they lose weight right along,” George observed.

“You’re joshing me, I know, George,” declared the other. “If I believed you, I’d be tempted to stay over here while you fellows went on, and keep going all day, so I could cut off, say about thirty pounds or so. No, I wouldn’t either; I forgot!”

“Yes, I should think you did forget Sallie,” jeered Herb. “If you got out of her class she’d never forgive you, Buster. Besides, perhaps she wouldn’t even see you if you wasted away to a shadow. Better leave well enough alone, and enjoy the good things of life.”

“Here we go now; they’re heading straight out on to the river!” cried Josh, as he nervously clutched the side of the big canoe near him; for they were seated two and two, with Jack just behind and George in front, as the boat narrowed.

The Indian guides were indeed pushing strenuously now, and when the water deepened both of them dropped their poles in the bottom of the canoe, to seize upon stout paddles and wield them furiously.

It was intended to reach a certain point in the river before turning the prow of the craft down toward the head of the rapids.

Long familiarity, every day in the week during the season, and many times a day, had made every rock and swirl known to these men. But although they knew the main channel like a book, seldom did any crew dare venture as close to the terrible jaws of the whirlpool as the veteran guide of the rapids, Old John Boucher, had always made it a practice of taking his parties.

Jack had looked several times at the man in the stern. Somehow, he did not wholly like his appearance. There was something about him to signify that he must have recently arisen from a sick bed. Perhaps, tempted by an influx of tourists, and the demand for experienced guides to take them through the rapids, he had come back to work a bit too soon!

“He doesn’t seem as strong as the others,” Jack was thinking, even as he turned his head from time to time as if to see what lay behind, while they were pushing up the sturdy current. “I can hear him pant as if short of breath. Goodness! I hope now nothing is going to happen to him while we’re spinning along down through these old rapids. They say that whirlpool would swallow up anything; and that Old John was the only man whoever went into it, and came out alive. Whew!”

But Jack did not whisper these fears to his comrades. It was too late to change steersman now; and why spoil all their pleasure?

After all, no doubt there was not so much strength needed once they began to move swiftly along with the current, going half a mile in a couple of minutes, they had been told, though Jack doubted the accuracy of that statement at first.

Apparently the guides had overshot the mark at which they aimed; for as the canoe was turned, in the shadow of the bridge, Jack saw that the man in the bow glanced apprehensively over his shoulder while he knelt there, and immediately began to paddle furiously, as though trying to bring the boat back a little toward the American shore.

Had they gone too far, and were they speeding down in the track taken by the one daring prince of guides – a course that would actually skirt the verge of that whirlpool, of which such terrible things were said?

Jack shut his teeth hard at the thought. Then he gave himself up to the keen enjoyment of that glorious ride, when the canoe was seized upon as by invisible hands, and borne along at lightning speed.

Looking at the water alongside, foam-specked as it was, one could not believe the boat was moving at all, because both kept company. But all that was needed was for the voyager to raise his eyes, and send a look toward the shore, when he must realize the tremendous rapidity with which his frail craft was being carried along.

Things just seemed to fairly flit past, as though they were aboard a fast railway train. The boys were evidently enjoying the novel experience to the full, for their heads were constantly turning from side to side, and all seemed to be talking at once.

Jack was nervously looking ahead and on the left, for he knew they must now be approaching the whirlpool, where the eddying waters went furiously round and round and the center seemed to be a deep hole, like the dent a gigantic top would make in the mud.