Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast; or, Through Storm and Stress to Florida

"Listen to Jack getting poetical!" laughed George.

"Well, who wouldn't, when you can hear the lap of the little waves out there on the creek?" replied Jack, instantly. "And there, that must have been a fish jumping, the way they told us the mullet do down South."

"Yes," said Nick, "me to get one of those castnets, and pull 'em in at every throw. No danger of a fellow getting hungry in that country, I guess."

"If you didn't get hungry where would be the pleasure in living, tell me that?" demanded Josh.

Before Nick could frame any reply there suddenly broke out the most terrible roaring sound any of the boys had ever heard. It seemed to come from right off the surface of the dark creek close by, and gave poor Nick such a fright that he almost fell into the fire upon attempting to struggle to his feet, such was his clumsiness when excited.

All of them forgot the comfort they had been enjoying, and scrambled erect.

CHAPTER V.

A STORM, AND NO REFUGE IN SIGHT

It was only natural that every one of the little party of cruisers should feel their hearts beating much faster than ordinary, as they were so startled by that horrible blast so near at hand.

But Jack believed he had heard another sound close on the heels of the first, and which was not unlike a hoarse laugh. That indicated the presence of human beings; and, of course, would account for the roar that had disturbed their first camp ashore.

Looking in the direction from whence the sounds had apparently proceeded, which was just below where their boats were pulled up, he could just manage to make out some bulky moving object; then the whipping of what seemed to be a discolored sail caught his eye, and he understood.

Of course, it must be some boat, possibly belonging to oystermen who plied their trade out on the bay, close to which they now found themselves.

Coming into the creek, which was possibly their regular harbor for night refuge, and discovering the fire as well as the boys, they had blown a fog horn just in the spirit of frolic, to give the boys a scare.

Both men were laughing now at the success of their scheme, and one of them called out, with the idea of calming the bunch before they took to shooting, in their excitement, as greenhorns were liable to do under such conditions.

"Hey, there! it's all right, boys; we're just oystermen, ye see, an' meanin' to come ashore to jine ye, 'fore we goes home. Got a dock a leetle ways up-creek. So hold yer guns, boys; no harm done, I reckons!"

The sloop was run up on the sandy shore and both men jumped off. They proved to be honest chaps, and soon the boys were quite relieved of their first suspicious sensation at sight of such rough customers.

These fellows had seldom looked on such dainty tricks as the three little motor boats. Accustomed to heavy craft, they shook their heads when they heard how Jack and his chums expected to make far distant Florida in such frail boats.

"Never kin do it, boys, an' I knows it," declared the taller fellow.

"But ye got the grit, all right, I reckons," added the other.

"We expect to meet up with lots of trouble on the way," said Jack; "but then we've been through some experience, and know a little about managing these things. Often a boat like mine will live in a sea that would swamp a more clumsy craft. A canoe rides the waves like a duck, where a rowboat would fill and sink, being logy."

"They may be somethin' in that same," remarked one of the oystermen; "but the chanct is, ye'll never make the riffle, boys. I hate to say that same; but right down in this Delaware Bay they's bad spots where ye kin git caught out in a blow, an' can't land. Many a fine boat's gone down as I know of."

"An' if so be ye do make shore they's hard characters all along that section. Look out if ye happens to land near Murderkill Creek, that's all I kin say," his mate spoke up, quite seriously, for they seemed to have taken something of an interest in the boys, and their ambitious plans.

"Goodness gracious! did you ever hear such a terrible name as that?" gasped Nick, looking pale, as his imagination worked overtime in picturing the dreadful things apt to be met with in a country where even the creeks bore such suggestive names.

"Oh, sometimes things turn out less terrible than they seem!" laughed Jack, who had read something about this same creek, and felt no particular fear about making a camp along its border, should necessity compel such a thing.

"Now, we got to be goin' home, 'case we got famblies waitin' for us; but we'll toss a lot o' oysters ashore here, if so be ye'd like to have 'em," the taller man remarked.

"All right," spoke up Nick, so promptly that Jack was unable to get in a reply; "give us fifty cents' worth, if that'll buy a bushel. I feel like I could eat that many myself. Yum, yum, just think of the luck, fellows!"

The men laughed, but took the money, since their business was gathering the bivalves, and there were doubtless many mouths to feed. And they certainly tossed a full bushel ashore before pushing off, to continue their run up the stream, to the dock they spoke of owning.

Nick had galloped over to the Wireless, and was heard rummaging about at a tremendous rate, all the while lamenting the fact that he could not find what he was so eagerly searching for.

"Oh, George! where did you ever hide that bully new oyster knife I bought up in Philadelphia?" he bellowed, as he raised his head above the side of the speed boat.

"Never touched it," answered the other, promptly. "But I do remember seeing some such thing in that locker up in the bow, where the tools are kept."

A triumphant squeal presently announced that Nick had unearthed his treasure; and over the side he came, making at once for the heap of bivalves.

"You want to go slow with those things," warned Herb.

"Oh, rats! I guess I know my capacity!" scoffed the fat boy, starting to rap a shell smartly, and then insert the end of the knife between its two jaws. "When I get enough I'll hold up."

"You bet you will before you reach that point!" declared George, "because some of us hanker after oysters, too. But just remember how you cut your fingers with the shells the time we were down at New Orleans. And be careful: they may not hurt much now, but tomorrow they'll fair set you wild, boy."

Nick only mumbled in reply. He was stuffing the first fat oyster into his mouth, and as this was an extra large specimen, it allowed of no room for words.

The others soon got busy too, using such implements as they could find among the tools. Jack had a regular oyster knife, but none of the others had thought to provide themselves with such a necessary article, save Nick alone.

But by degrees they tamed the oyster fiend, and would not let him have any more. Jimmy borrowed his knife, and amused himself in disposing of the juicy contents of numerous shells. And Josh, after swallowing several himself, proved to be a public benefactor by opening them for those who were green at the business.

But after a time they cried quits, and began to think of going aboard again; for the venomous little pests were beginning to be very active, and kept them all busy slapping right and left.

Once under their nets they found a solid comfort that fully compensated them for not being able to sleep ashore.

And so the night passed. Nothing occurred to disturb them; and yet despite the calm, it is doubtful whether any of the six slept very well. The novelty of once more being away from civilization and starting on a long cruise that might bring all sorts of adventures in its train, kept them wakeful.

Doubtless, too, memory carried them back to many scenes connected with past experiences; and they lived again in the various happenings marking those halcyon days.

Up with the dawn some of them once more went ashore. The fire was started afresh and preparations for breakfast were under way by the time Nick made his appearance. He surveyed what was being done for a little time, and then lifted his voice in protest:

"What! no oysters for breakfast? That's mighty funny, now. I expected to have 'em every meal, you know."

Not getting any satisfaction from Josh, who was busy making some batter for the camp flapjacks, Nick wandered off. They soon heard him hard at work on oyster shells, though an occasional grunt told that he had cut his tender fingers with the sharp points.

He did succeed in opening a few, which he insisted on cooking for his own breakfast; and Josh let him have his way; but it might have been noticed that Nick consumed his full share of the batter cakes; and even wistfully eyed a last one belonging to the cook, upon which Josh generously passed it along, saying that he was "full up."

If any one ever saw Nick in that condition it did not readily occur to them, for the fat boy seemed to be built after the style of an omnibus, with always room for "just one more," with crowding.

"Looks like a good day ahead," remarked Herb, glancing at the sky.

"I was just thinking the other way," spoke up Jack.

"Eh? What makes you tell us that, after hearing what those oystermen said about the danger we'd run, if we were caught in the big bay in a storm?" asked George; for his narrow-beam boat always threatened to turn turtle when the waves were very boisterous, and it kept him guessing continually.

"Oh! well, I may be wrong; but I didn't altogether like the looks of those mottled clouds as the sun was coming up," Jack remarked.

"And it was red, too, which I understand is always a bad sign," Nick put in. "If we could only get another lot of shell fish, I'd vote to stay right here for the day. Perhaps things would pick up by tomorrow."

"Rats! Who's afraid?" laughed Josh, who knew he was sure of lots of comfort aboard the roomy boat belonging to Herb.

It was, however, put to a vote, because Jack believed in majority ruling in matters affecting the whole crowd. Nick himself voted in favor of going on. Whether he did this because he was ashamed to show the white feather, or from fear lest they might not be able to secure a further supply of oysters, none of them ever really knew. But the motion to continue the cruise was carried unanimously.

As they issued forth from the creek they found that the river seemed much wider than they had believed it to be. And apparently it would keep on that way, with the shores drawing further apart, until they found themselves on Delaware Bay, which in parts, Jack understood, to be something like twenty-five miles from side to side, an ocean in fact, for such small craft.

"We must have been camping in Delaware last night, eh, Jack?" called out Herb, as the three boats ran along side by side, even George curbing his propensity for rushing ahead.

"Sure we did," spoke up George. "I found out on the chart where we stopped. Look away over there in Jersey, and you'll see a cloud of smoke hovering over Salem. How about that, Jack; am I correct?"

"That's Salem, all right; and we've got to start at a better pace than this if we hope to get anywhere before night. Hit her up, George, and we'll do the best we can to follow," Jack answered.

This pleased the jaunty skipper of the Wireless first-rate. He always liked to lead the procession, and set the pace for the rest.

So, as the morning wore on, they made good progress. Of course the others were compelled to tone down their speed to suit the pace of the old Comfort, that just wallowed along in what George called a "good natured way." Boat and skipper were very much alike; but then that similarity also applied in the cases of George and his speed boat; yes, and with regard to Jack, too, who united the good qualities of both other skippers, as his craft did those of stability and speed.

At noon they ate a lunch while still booming along; for Jack had discovered a bank of clouds coming up in the west that he did not just fancy, and hoped to make a certain point before the storm, if such there was in store for them, should break.

"What's this mean, Jack?" asked George, a couple of hours later, falling back somewhat so that he might exchange words with the others.

"Yes," said Herb at that; "it's getting as dark as the mischief. Guess we're going to have that storm Jack prophesied this morning, fellows."

"Say, perhaps I'd better be shooting ahead, then," suggested George, uneasily. "You know this cranky boat of mine isn't the nicest thing going, to be in when the waves are rolling ten feet high. And it's so wide here, they'll beat that, in a pinch."

"What would you be after going ahead for, then?" asked Jimmy.

"So as to get to that creek with the lovely name we talked about," George replied, looking troubled, nevertheless. "I noted its position on the chart, and think I might find it."

"But if the storm caught you beforehand, you'd be in a bad pickle, George!" declared Jack, soberly. "No, better all keep together. Then, if an accident happens, there's some chance for the others lending a helping hand. But we'll head in more toward the Delaware side, though if the wind strikes us from the east it'll be a bad place to be caught on a lee shore."

Nothing more was said just then. They changed their course somewhat, and the three little motor boats continued to push steadily forward. Meanwhile the gloom seemed to gather around them, until even stout-hearted Jack shuddered a little as he surveyed the wide stretch of waters that had begun to tumble in the freshening wind, and thought what might happen if they could find no harbor, with a fierce late equinoctial gale sweeping across the dangerous bay.

CHAPTER VI.

A CLOSE SHAVE, BUT NO DAMAGE DONE

"See any signs of a harbor, Jack?"

It was Nick who called this out, as he watched the skipper of the Tramp swing the pair of binoculars he was handling along the shore ahead, while Jimmy had the wheel.

"Not that I could say for certain," replied the other, lowering the glasses for a minute in order to rest his strained eyes. "I was trying to get our bearings; and from several things about the shore, that resemble the line of the chart, I begin to believe I know where we are."

"Not near that awful Murderkill Creek, I hope?" spoke up Nick, shuddering.

"What's the matter with you?" called George. "Any port in a storm, say I; and even if it happened to be Slaughter Creek, which I believe lies further on toward Lewes, I'd grab it in a hurry, if it came along. Don't you go to saying a single word against that sweet harbor. We'll rename it Paradise Creek, if only it serves us this day."

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