The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast

Robert approached him for the purpose, when he observed the cat creep slyly from his hole, and hobble away with all haste. "Quick, Harold," cried Robert, tossing him the handkerchief, "tie the fawn, and follow me," then dashed through the bushes in pursuit.

"Take care, you may get too near," Harold shouted; but Robert was already lost to sight behind the underwood. By the time the fawn was secured, Harold heard him hallooing about one hundred paces away, and going rapidly in that direction, saw him watching the convulsive throes of the wild creature as it lay gasping on the ground.

Harold looked on and pleasantly remarked, "You will soon get your name up for a hunter, if you keep improving at this rate. That is a splendid cat! What claws and teeth! Let us see how long he is." Putting his hands together at the thumbs, and spreading them out to span a foot, he ascertained that it measured two feet nine inches from the nose to the root of the short tail; and that, standing with its head erect, it must have been fully two and a half feet high. Its teeth and nails were savage looking things.

"I am glad he did not fasten those ugly looking things in my leg," said Robert; "but I was so excited by the pursuit, that I rushed at one time almost upon him. He had stopped behind a bush; all at once he sprang at me with a growl, showing his white teeth, bristling his hair, and glaring at me with his large fierce eyes. He dodged behind another bush, and when I next saw him he was gasping and convulsed as when you came up."

"It would have been a desperate fight, if he had seized you," remarked Harold; "you would have borne the marks to the end of your life."

Returning to the fawn, which struggled violently on their approach, they soon succeeded in allaying its terror by gentle tones and kind treatment. It yielded passively to its fate, and consented to be led wherever they chose.

The oranges were delicious after their long walk, and now excessive thirst. A few minutes served to rest their weary limbs, and they had just begun to discuss the propriety of returning to the tent, when the fawn pricked up its ears with the signs of renewed alarm, a neighbouring bush was agitated, and ere they could fully grasp their guns and spring to their feet, Mum came dashing up at full speed.

The boys were much surprised, and were afraid some accident had happened. Mum, however, showed no signs of anything wrong; he came up wagging his cropped tail, and looking exceedingly pleased. He cast a hungry look at the fawn, as though his mouth watered for a taste, but he offered no interference. On close inspection, Harold observed a string tied round his neck, to which was fastened a little roll of paper. He hastily took it off, and calling to Robert, they read these lines in pencil:

"Come home quickly. I see some one across the river; he is waving a flag. Mary."

CHAPTER XVII

MARY AND FRANK-EXAMINATION OF THE TENT-SMOKE SIGNALS-DEVICES-BRUTE MESSENGER-RAPT-BLAZING THE TREES-VOYAGE-DISASTROUS EXPEDITION-NEWS FROM HOME-RETURN TO THE TENT

When Robert and Harold left the tent that morning, to look for the lost boat, Mary and Frank watched with anxious eyes their retiring forms. It was painful to be left alone in that vast solitude. But the act was necessary, and Mary resolved to bear it with cheerfulness. In order therefore to withdraw their minds from their situation, she proposed to Frank to join her in exposing to the sun those articles in the tent which had been wet by the rain.

Among these was a bundle of William's. "Poor William!" said Frank, "I wonder what became of him. Don't you think, sister, he was drowned?"

"I do not know, buddy," she answered with a sigh; "though I presume not. William was a good swimmer, and near shore. O, I do wish we could hear from our dear father, and he could hear from us! See here, Frank." She pointed to a valise-trunk. "This is father's, it contains his razors, and all the little things that he uses every day. I wish I could open it, and air everything for him; both top and bottom seem to be wet."

She tried the various keys in her bunch, and to her delight found one that fitted the lock. Some of its contents were quite damp, and no doubt they were saved from serious injury by her affectionate care. In it she spied a morocco case, which proved quite useful in the end; it was a case of choice medicines. Mary was careful to disturb nothing, except so far as was needful for its preservation; for, though her father had no concealments that she knew of, this was his private property, and she held its privacy sacred. After drying everything in it, they were replaced as before.

This work had occupied them about two hours, when Frank, whose eyes were continually directed towards the sea, with a lingering hope that he might see his father sailing after them, exclaimed, "Sister, is not that a smoke across the river?"

From the bluff where, three miles distant, the opposite bank of the river overhung the sea, a bluish vapour was curling upward. It was evidently a smoke. Mary gazed at it with feelings both of hope and distrust. Who made it? What did it mean? She ran for the spy glass, drew it to its focus, steadied her trembling hands against a tree, directed it towards the point, and almost instantly exclaimed, "Some person is there. I can see a signal flying, like a handkerchief tied to a pole. But who can it be? If it is one of our people, why does he not come over? O Frank, how I wish brother and cousin Harold were here."

"Let us fire off the gun, sister," Frank replied, "that will bring them back."

They took the gun, loaded by Robert for the purpose, and fired it repeatedly. Mary then took another peep through the glass, and cried out-"He sees us, Frank, whoever it is; he is waving his flag. He must have heard our guns, or seen their smoke. I wonder I cannot see him. O, yes, there he is, lying on the ground, or half lying. Now he has put down the flag, and I can see him dragging himself along the ground by one arm. What can it mean? O, when will brother Robert and cousin Harold come back!"

Mary's impatience made the time seem very long. She employed herself in every way that she could devise for an hour, and then, turning to Frank with a bright look, clapped her hands joyfully, and said, "I have it! I'll bring them back! I mean to send a runner after them. I can do it-O, yes, I can do it!"

Frank looked troubled. "How can you?" he inquired. "I am the only one you have; and I am sure I cannot find the way any more than you can."

"No, not you, nor myself," she said; "but one that I know can find them, and can take a note to them too." She opened her trunk, took out a piece of paper, pencilled upon it the note recorded in the last chapter, tied it tightly with a string, which she fastened around Mum's neck, and said, "Here is my messenger! He will find them, I warrant." Then loosening the chain, she said, "Hie on, Mum! hie on!"

Mum looked at her inquisitively, and was evidently in doubt what to make of her command. She called him to the track of the boys, pointed to it, followed it for a few steps, and encouraged him to proceed, when the intelligent brute took the meaning, and with a whine of joy sprang away at a rapid trot.

The boys reached the tent about one o'clock, leading the fawn by the two handkerchiefs. They had been strongly tempted more than once to leave it behind, tied to a bush, or to free it entirely, as it somewhat retarded their movements; but having already taught it the art of following, it came after them with rapid strides, and for the latter half of their journey they had not to pull it in the least. Mary and Frank heard their distant halloo, and ran to meet them. They were delighted with the new pet, and spent a moment in patting its snowy sides; but the interest excited by the person across the river absorbed every other consideration. As soon as Harold saw the smoke still faintly rising, he said, "I saw that smoke this morning. It was so faint I could scarcely discern it darken the sky, and took it for mist. That person has been there all night."

Robert had by this time adjusted the glass, and each looked in turn. They could see nothing more than a little smoke. Mary described the position in which she saw the person lying, and dragging himself along, after the guns were fired. "Then," said Harold, "I will let off another gun; and do you, Robert, place yourself so that you can see whether he notices it."

Robert laid himself flat on the sand, rested the glass upon a log of wood, that both he and it might be steady, and said, "Now fire!" About a quarter of a minute after the discharge he exclaimed, "I see him! He is lying upon the sand beneath the shade of a cedar. I see him move. He rests on one arm, as though he were sick or hurt. Now he drags himself as you describe, sister. There is his flag flying again. He uses only one arm. The other hangs down uselessly by his side. Who can it be? I wish he was in the sunshine, for then I could see his complexion. But I am sure it is not a white man."

"O, it is Riley!" said Frank. "I know it is Riley come after us. Now we can go home again."

Harold took the glass and used it as Robert had done. The person had by this time put down the flag, and was reclining languidly against some support behind him. Harold saw him grasp his left arm with his right hand, move it gently, and lie back as before. "That person is badly hurt," he remarked. "Instead of helping us, he wants us to help him. It must be some one who was cast away in the storm last night. Oh, for our boat! Robert, we must go over and help him. We can make a raft. It is not three miles across. We have the oars and paddle of our boat, and we can surely make that distance and back this evening, by hard work. Let us see if there is not timber enough near at hand for a raft."

They looked at a fallen tree not far distant, and wished it were only near the river bank. "But what do I say?" said Robert. "The palmetto, which I felled for the cabbage, is sixty or seventy feet long, straight as an arrow, and what is better, just at the river side."

Off they went with ax, hatchet, and nails. Mary called after them to say, that if they would show her the way, she and Frank would follow them with something to eat.

"Do, cousin, if you please," said Harold. "I, for one, am hungry enough. We will blaze a path for you as we pass along. Do follow us soon."

"Do you mean that you will chop the trees as you pass?"

"Yes, yes. We will chop them so as to show the white wood beneath the bark. That is called a blaze. You cannot mistake your way."

The work of blazing the path scarcely detained them at all; an experienced woodsman can do it with a single blow of his ax as he moves, without stopping. Many of the trees were cut so as to show little more than the mark of the hatchet. Coming to the fallen palmetto, the boys cut it into four lengths, one of twenty, two of seventeen, and the remainder of ten feet long. It was easy work; the palmetto is a soft wood, and every blow of the ax, after going beneath the hard surface, made a deep cut. Then with the aid of levers, they rolled the logs to the water's edge; they pinned them together, sharpened the bow for a cutwater, and fastened some cross pieces on top for seats, and as receptacles for the thowl pins.

While thus engaged, Mary and Frank, guided by the blazed trees, and attracted by the sound of the ax, came with a basket full of provision, and setting it before them, remarked, "I am sorry we have no water yet to offer you, but here are some of the oranges we brought the other day."

It is almost incredible what a deal of work can be accomplished in a limited time, where a person works with real vigour and good will. The boys were themselves astonished to find that shortly after three o'clock they were seated on their raft, with Mary and Frank aboard, rowing rapidly towards the landing at the tent. A glance now at the spring showed that they could supply themselves with water, and while Harold scooped out a basin, and dammed it against the occasional overflow of a wave, Robert went with Mary and Frank to the tent, from which he brought down the guns, a jug for water, the spy-glass, and the morocco medicine case, of which Mary had told him, and which he supposed might be needed by the sick person.

Once more Robert and Harold embarked, leaving the younger ones on the shore. "Do not be alarmed," said they, seeing the tears start into Mary's eyes at the prospect of another separation. "Make a good fire on shore, and put your trust in God. We will try to return before dark; and we hope to bring you good news from home. If the person yonder is a messenger from Tampa, we will let you know by firing two guns; look out, and listen for them about five minutes after you see us land." With a silent prayer to God from each party for safety and success, the voyagers waved adieu to the others, and were soon moving through the water at the rate of more than two miles the hour.

However earnest they were to relieve the person apparently in distress, the boys did not approach the opposite shore without caution. They knew themselves to be in the land of savages, who were exceedingly ingenious and patient in their schemes of violence. Each took in turn the glass, when relieved by the other in rowing, and directed it upon the point to which they were going. Approaching within a quarter of a mile of shore, they rested upon their oars, and deliberately surveyed both the person and the place. They could distinctly see him reclining against the cedar, and beckoning with his right hand.

"Harold," said Robert, "that is a negro, and I do believe it is Sam, the carpenter. O poor fellow! how badly hurt he appears to be. I wonder what can be the matter!"

They pulled along very fast, and when within a hundred yards of shore stopped and looked again. "It is Sam," said Robert. "All's right! Let us push on now!"

Running the raft ashore, and making it fast to their ax, sunk in the sand for a stake, they hurried up the bluff. There indeed lay Sam, badly hurt and unable to move. They ran to him, and were about to throw their arms around him, when he beckoned them off imploringly, and said, "Stop! stop! for marcy sake don't shake me hard. Huddie5 Mas Robbut! Huddie Mas Harrol! Bless de Lord to see you once mo'e!" the tears streaming down the poor fellow's face.

"Dear old Sam!" said the boys, "we are so glad to see you. But what is the matter?"

"O, I am kill!" he replied; "my arm and leg bote got broke las' night. You got any water?"

"Plenty-plenty. We brought it for you," and they both ran for the jug, but Harold was foremost, and Robert returned.

"Mas Robbut," Sam asked, "wey de children?"

"We left them at the tent yonder. They were the first to see you; and they fired the guns that you heard."

"Bless dey young soul," he said, "I do lub 'em."

"But how is father?"

"Berry well-berry well-O Lord my leg! – 'sept he in mighty trouble 'bout you all."

"Here is the water, Sam," said Harold returning, "let me hold the jug while you drink. There, don't take too much at first-it may hurt you. How is uncle?"

Sam told him. While they were conversing, Robert ran to the raft, brought from it his gun, went to the most conspicuous part of the bluff, and waving first a white handkerchief, until he received an answering signal from Mary and Frank, fired the two barrels at the interval of several seconds.

"Please mossa, let me hab some mo'e water?" Sam asked; then taking a hearty draught, he said, "Bless de Lord for dis nice cool water! It is so good!"

They inquired of him the nature and occasion of his accident. "It was de boat las' night-Riley's boat," said he. "It kill him and cripple me. We come to look for you all. De win' blow and de sea rise; and me and Riley went to draw the boat higher on sho', w'en a big wave lif' de boat and pitch it right into Riley's breast. It kill him I s'pose-I nebber see him no mo'e. W'en I come to my senses, I bin lie right on de beach, wi' my arm and leg broke, and de water dashin' ober me. I drag myself up here las' night, by my well arm and leg; but if it hadn't bin for de win' I nebber bin git here at all-it lif' me up like a fedder."

"That is talking enough for this time, Sam," said Robert; "you are too sick and weak, and we have no time to spare. Let us carry you to our tent, and there you may talk as much as you will. Is there anything we can do for you before we move?"

"Only to give me a little mo'e water." He had already drunk a quart. He also pointed them to a certain spot, where they found Riley's rifle and its equipments, together with an ax and several gourds. These were transferred to the raft; and Harold said, "Come, Sam, tell us how we can help you. The sun is fast going down, and we have a long way to go. Mary and Frank don't wish to be left in the dark, and are no doubt looking for us to start."

"De childun! Bless 'em!" said Sam. "I do want to see dey sweet face once mo 'e. But I 'fraid it will kill me to move. See how my arm and leg swell a'ready."

After much demurring, Sam consented to attempt the removal; and though he groaned and shuddered at the thought, it was effected with far less pain than he expected. They spread his blanket beside him, helped him into the middle of it, lapped and pinned its edges over a strong pole with splinters of cedar, and taking each an end of the pole, lifted him gently from the ground, and bore him at full length to the raft, where they had previously prepared a couch of moss.

The sun sunk into the waters ere they had gone half a mile; but the boys pulled with a hearty good will, and moreover with the advantage of a little wind in their favour. It was dark when they landed, or rather, dark as it could be with a bright moon nearly at the full. Robert took occasion while at the helm to re-load his two barrels with powder, and repeat the signal agreed upon. As the darkness deepened they could see afar off the figures of Mary and Frank standing upon the beach, before a fire which they had made as a guide to the voyagers, and listening apparently to every thump of the oars. Long before words could be distinguished, Frank's clear voice rang over the waters in a tone of inquiry. The two boys united their voices at a high musical pitch, and sung out, "Sam! Sam!" repeating it at intervals until they perceived from the tones of the children on shore that the name had been heard. Presently Frank's voice shouted shrilly, "Howdy, Sam?" Poor Sam tried to answer, but his voice was too weak. Robert and Harold answered for him. Mary would have called out too; but the truth is she was crying for joy, and was not able to utter a word.

CHAPTER XVIII

NIGHT LANDING-CARRYING A WOUNDED PERSON-SETTING ONE'S OWN LIMBS WHEN BROKEN-SPLINTING A LIMB-REST TO THE WEARY

It was a picturesque scene as the raft drew near shore. The soft moonlight upon the bluff-the faint sparkle of the briny water broken by the oars-the lurid light from the resinous fire-the dark shadows and excited movements of Mary and Frank-formed altogether a group worthy of a painter's skill.

Frank could scarcely be restrained from rushing through the water to welcome the new comer; but when he heard how weak he was, and in what bad condition, he waited in quietness. Harold took him in his arms, and Robert made a stepping place for Mary with the oars, and they both shook hands with the poor fellow, and told him how sorry they were to see him so badly hurt.

Leaving Harold and Frank at the raft, Robert and Mary hastened to the tent to prepare a place for the invalid, that he need not be disturbed after being once removed. They lit a candle, piled the trunks in a corner of the room, and taking most of the moss that constituted their beds, laid it in another corner, remarking, "We can easily obtain more; or we can even sleep on the ground tonight, if necessary, for his sake."

"I wish we had an old door, or even a plank long enough for him to lie upon, as we bring him from the raft," said Robert, "it would be so much easier to his broken bones, if they could be kept straight. But the blanket is next best, and with that we must be content."

By the time the transfer was completed, the boys were exceedingly weary, having been disturbed all the preceding night, and engaged in vigorous and incessant effort ever since they arose from their short sleep. They sat for half an hour revelling in the luxury of rest. Sam appeared to suffer so much and to be so weak, that they discouraged him from talking, and took their own seats outside the tent, that he might be able to sleep.

"What have you done with the fawn, sister?" inquired Robert, willing to divert their minds from the painful thoughts that were beginning to follow the excitement of hearing from home.

"O, we fed it with sassafras leaves and grass," said she, "and gave it water. After that we sewed the torn skin to its place upon the neck, and it appears to be doing very well."

"You are quite a surgeon, cousin Mary," Harold remarked. "I think we shall have to call you our 'Sister of Mercy.' If, however, our handkerchiefs are still tied to it, I will suggest that it may be best for it, as well as for us, that you make a soft pad for its neck, and put on the dog's collar."

"We have done that already," she replied. "I thought of it as soon as we returned to the tent and saw the dog's chain. But as for my being a surgeon, it requires very little skill to know that the sooner a fresh wound is attended to, and the parts brought to the right place for healing the better."

"That is a fact," said Robert, starting, as a deep groan from the tent reached his ears; "and that reminds me that perhaps Sam is suffering at this moment for the want of having his bones set. We must attend to them at once."

"Set a broken arm and leg!" exclaimed Harold in surprise. "Why, Robert, do you know how to do it?"

"Certainly," he replied. "There is no mystery about it; and father, you know, teaches us children everything of the kind, as soon as we are able to learn it. I have never set the bones of a person, but I did once of a dog, and succeeded very well."

Harold asked him to describe the process. Robert replied, "If the bones appear to have moved from their proper place, all that you have to do is to pull them apart lengthways by main strength so that they will naturally slide together, or else can be made to do so by the pressure of your hand. Then you must bandage the limb with strips of cloth, beginning at its extremity, so as to keep the parts in place; and over this you must bind a splint, to keep the bone from being bent or jostled out of place. That is all."

They went into the tent, and made inquiry of Sam whether his bones did not need attention. He replied that maybe his leg was in need of setting, but that as for his arm he had sot that himself, and that it was in need only of splintering.

"You set it yourself! Why, how did you manage that?" inquired Robert.

"You remember, Mas Robbut, I bin hab my arm broke once befo'e; so I knowed jes what to do," replied Sam, and then he went on to describe his process. He said that finding the bones out of place, he had tied the hand of his broken arm to a root of the cedar, and strained himself back until the bones were able to pass, when he pressed them into place by means of his well hand.

After that he tore some strips from his clothing, and tied the hand over his breast, at the same time stuffing his bosom full of moss, to keep the bone straight, and over all passing a bandage, to keep the arm against his side. He had made a similar attempt to set the bone of his leg, but it pained him so much that he had given up the attempt.

On examination, Robert learned that the arm was broken between the elbow and shoulder, and that the leg was fractured between the knee and ankle. "The leg," said he, "is safe enough. Below the knee are two bones, and only one of these is broken. Would you like to have the bandage and splints put on your arm tonight?"

Sam replied that he was sure he should sleep better if Mas Robert was not too tired to attend to it, for he would be "mighty onrestless" while his bones were in that "fix."

The wearied boy pondered a moment, and asked his sister to tear one of the sheets or table-cloths into strips about as wide as her three fingers, and to sew the ends together, to make a bandage five or six yards long, while he and Harold prepared the splints. They then went to the palmetto tree, half a mile distant, and selecting one of the broadest and straightest of its flat, polished limbs, returned to the tent, and produced from it a lath about the length of the arm. Having bandaged the limb from the finger-ends to the shoulder, they bound it to this splint, which extended from the armpit to the extremity, and Robert pronounced the operation complete.