Edwin L. Sabin

“ With the advent of the south winds and the steady dripping thaw, Ned’s ankle and Tom’s cough—keepsakes from that memorable Newton trip—rapidly disappeared; and the nearer ventured the ducks, the stronger felt the two boys. Together—Tom no longer Ned’s squire, but now, by virtue of that Christmas present, become his brother-at-arms—they haunted the levee, watching for the flight to set in and the ice to go out.
Bob accompanied them. But he was not especially interested in ducks. Dread of gun forbade him to hunt them, alive; and instinct forbade him to gnaw the bones of them, dead. ”

“ At the close his father simply said:
“Well, Ned, I don’t see how you could have acted any differently—but I don’t approve of fighting, any more than does your mother. Fighting is not always a fair test of your side of a question, you know. It is better to avoid a fight by every honorable means in your power. Sometimes it is more cowardly to fight than to keep from fighting. But if you can’t avoid it,” he added, quizzically; “if there’s nothing left to do, to save honor, but fight, then fight for all there is in you!”
“Will!” protested Mrs. Miller, horrified. ”

“ Mr. Miller hastily ducked through the window, and above his head spattered a heavy stream before which the impudent blaze beneath the main gable was blotted from existence. A driving deluge swept against the kitchen, and all those little flames that had been taxing the bucket brigade vanished in a twinkling.
The house was saved; but seldom house had more narrow escape!
Ned, climbing in again from the porch, had proceeded to do something that long had been on his mind. His loaded shotgun cartridges! Supposing the house should burn and they should explode and injure people! ”

“ In some places the oar-blade touched bottom; again no bottom was to be found. Above the surface in the shallows the tops of weeds and bushes swayed with the current. Not a sound of human life was heard. The only noises to break the silence were the twitterings of uneasy birds amidst the branches of the trees, and once in a while a slight scrape from the boat’s prow as Hal steered through a narrow channel.
[11]
It was an enchanted island, spellbound by the freshet.
“Doesn’t it seem queer, though!” commented Ned, after they had gone a short distance, upon a zigzag course. ”

“ At present it was to the beach that Ned and his chums went. Off the rafts the water was decidedly frigid; the sand-bar was just beginning to show its face, covered with a thin coating of mud left by the receding freshet—and how cold this water in the middle of the river was! The beach now held open house for Beauforters, young and old.
The boys went over every afternoon in Ned and Hal’s scull-boat and in skiffs. The entertainment afforded by the beach was endless. A quarter of a mile above, a point of land jutted out, thus throwing the current from the shore. ”

“ Thus urged, and with his gang pressing closer and closer about them, Big Mike swung his clenched hands back and forth, menacingly, and growled:
“Tryin’ to pick a fight, ain’t ye? I’ve a notion to lam the tar out o’ you!”
“You can’t do it, alone,” challenged Ned. “You know your gang will pitch in and help, if you’re getting licked.”
“Naw, we won’t. Of course we won’t,” cried the South Beauforters, in a chorus. “It’ll be fair play; sure it will!”
Ned knew that this was a lie. The South Beauforters never fought fair. They were wolves, attacking from both front and rear, and five to one. ”

“ When the tail came opposite, the blue capes joined themselves to it, and now the parade moved off, complete—a whip lash of bobbing lights, with the blue capes forming the snapper, and Ned and Hal being the frayed tip.
Bands played conflicting tunes; flambeaux flared and red fire glared; transparencies curtsied and turned themselves about for approval; the people [146] lined up along the curb upon either side of the route hooted and cheered.
Away at the end Ned and Hal proudly held their torches as high as they could, and tried to keep step with the men in front of them. ”

“ THE GREAT LUMBER FIRE The river went down as rapidly as it had come up, but left upon the clap-boards of the Diamond Jo warehouse a line of mud in token of its visit. People in the low-lying portions of the city hastened to move back into their accustomed quarters, now soaked by the flood. Many a cellar was pumped out. And at the levee Commodore Jones’ flock of skiffs was once more tethered in its usual place before the little boat-house. ”

“ It was of clipper pattern, but very low—not more than four inches from the ground. It had sharp points, longer than its body; when Ned flopped upon it the points stuck far out before, and his legs stuck far out behind. The runners were round steel, and well sprung. How that sled did go! It was no good for ruts, or for deep snow, but given a smooth track it could beat any sled in Beaufort. No matter how icy the hill, when other sleds had a tendency to veer and drift sideways this little sled darted straight as an arrow beyond the mark of all. ”

“ Ned gained the crest at the same point where he and Hal had come out when they had climbed before. It was very still, up here; only the drip, drip, from the trees, and the soughing of the wind, breaking the quiet. It also was much darker and lonesomer than he had expected it would be, but he bravely trudged forward along the edge of the bluff toward the old mounds. ”

“ The tenth of November, and behold Ned, and Tom, his squire, across the river, trudging among the winding sloughs that formed a popular Beaufort hunting-ground. They had started from home at four in the morning—as was their custom; and had been tramping ever since—as, again, was their custom; and had not shot a single duck—which, alas, also was their custom. Ducks were much more crafty than tin cans.
Yet the boys thought that tramping all a long day, laden with gun and shells and boots, through swamp and over fields ”

“ THE GHOST OF THE INDIAN MOUNDS The sun, from his station a little north of east, stared full into the grape arbor sleeping room, and shone on Hal’s still face. A fly hustled in, and buzzed about Hal’s nose. Hal frowned, and impatiently shook his head; but unable to rid himself of sun or fly, opened his eyes. At the same instant Ned, beside him, stirred and turned over, disturbing Bob, who had been very comfortable.
Both boys sat up and blinked. Bob stretched, shook himself, and strolled out.
“Say—we’d better get out and run those trot-lines!” yawned Ned. “We’ve overslept.” ”

“ Their melon was a squash!
Words cannot express their disgust. They had missed the melon-patch entirely. All that trouble for only a squash! And now their chances had been ruined. The squire would be on his guard.
“Come on—let’s go home,” blurted Ned; and the two stiffly stood up. Stiffly it was, indeed, for their spirits had been most effectually “squashed,” and they began to be conscious of tokens of their recent flight. They were drenched with dew. Every inch of their bodies and faces and hands smarted and ached from the briars and collisions with posts, wires, sticks and stones. ”

“ In a second he and Bob were rushing wildly through the yard, and out of the front gate.
“It’s the lumber yards—it’s Mosher’s lumber yards!” he cried, to his mother, who was standing, anxious-faced, on the porch.
“Oh, Ned!” she exclaimed.
No more wood piling on that day!
The pretty, modest resident street was all astir. Heads popped from windows, voices called and answered, and young and old hastened upon walk or horse-block, or into the road. ”

“ He wondered if it could be true that he was about to die. He found himself not afraid, although it was hard to die away off there, in the open country, beside a slough. He was sorry for himself, and for his father and mother, and for Tom. What would Bob think? What would the boys and girls say? Poor little Zu-zu would cry and cry, and keep his duck wings forever.
“Can you move your arm? Try!” implored Tom.
Ned cautiously tried, and found that he could swing his arm and wiggle his fingers. ”

“ Below, inside, were Maggie and Mrs. Miller, the one naturally as strong as any man, the other nerved, by the crisis, to unusual strength, standing at the faucets of the sink and filling pails, pitchers, wash pans, anything that might serve to supply the line of men.
Outside, with the fire baking him, behind, and the spray from the nozzle drenching him, in front, Ned valiantly plied his stream. On a sudden it died away to a mere trickle. The hose, under the increased pressure put on by the water-works, had burst. ”

“ And bacon and thin slices of potatoes, fried together in a skillet over a brisk little fire of branches and driftwood, it was!
“I tell you there’s nothing like bacon!” sighed Ned, scraping his tin plate.
“And potatoes!” sighed Hal, also scraping. (Who says that cooking spoils the appetite!)
Bob, having gobbled his share, was trying to lick the hot skillet!
“Do you know what we forgot?” exclaimed Ned, thunder-struck. “Coffee!”
“But if I’d had to make coffee you’d have had to wait a lot longer for dinner. It takes an age to boil water over a fire like that one,” explained Hal. ”

“ Oh, how Sam jeered!
He and Joe never forgot. And thereafter, whenever [104] they chanced upon Hal or Ned they would be sure to ask, slyly:
“Seen any ghosts lately?”
As if to atone for his past ill-nature, as they pulled in at the shanty landing, Sam—who really had a very kind heart—said, gruffly:
“You kids had better stop for a snack with us. Steak an’ taters is all we got, but that grape-arbor camp o’ yourn must be nigh drowned.”
The boys, with some misgivings lest Bob should find out, and feel hurt, accepted the invitation; and Hal frankly yielded the palm to Sam as a cook. ”

“ With a whoop and a hurrah, clangor of gong and tooting of trumpet, up the thoroughfare it trundled, drawn by two long lines of people—youth and age yoked in a common cause. Those unlucky and envious people who, owing to lack of space, were denied a place in the team, valiantly formed a running escort.
As it happened, Ned had been particularly favored when he had grabbed the rope, for his place was just behind the leader. This leader was “Sandy” Baxter, Beaufort’s foot-racer. He headed the two lines, and set the pace; next came Ned, on the right, and Tom Walker, the attorney, on the left. ”

“ This was four tracks wide, and usually was a good stone’s throw from the river’s edge. To-day the water was lapping at the rails. North and south were scattered gangs of men with shovels, watching to patch the slightest break. Seemingly the embankment was all that kept the water from rushing into the principal streets.
Ned and Hal stood and gazed in silent wonder at the scene before them. The river was not that friendly river to which they were accustomed. It [6] was a sullen, menacing monster, without a single familiar aspect. ”

“ Had he not been gun-shy he would have been an ideal retriever for ducks. Indeed, Ned taught him to retrieve sticks and balls, and other things thrown for the purpose; and whether or not Bob had seen them drop, by ranging in circles he always found them and laid them at his master’s feet.
Ned also taught him to “charge.” Bob would stay crouched against the walk or road until Ned or Mr. Miller had gone on for a block, perhaps; his eyes would be shining with eagerness, and his body fairly quivering with excitement. ”

“ Big Mike was on familiar ground. The hare had been run to its hole. With a sudden movement Big Mike changed his course at right angles, and darted for a friendly alley.
Ned dug his heel into the slush, and drew back his arm, at the same time. Awaiting opportunity, during all the chase he had been carrying a pet [180] “soaker.” It had grown harder and harder, and now opportunity bade “Ready!” Just as Big Mike, presenting the broadside of his face, entered the alley, Ned, without halting, sped his snowball. The “soaker,” whizzing like a grape-shot, burst with an icy “smack” on Big Mike’s ear! ”

“ Stillness reigned, broken only by the wood [191] chopper’s ax echoing from the island, the cawing of the black crows crossing overhead, the metallic rhythm of the skate-blades, and the rumbling groans of the ice as it cracked for miles under the grip of the cold.
“My—isn’t this fine!” cried Hal, spurting to relieve his spirits. ”

“ Perseverance has its reward. On this tenth of November Ned and Tom had stopped in a fence corner to eat their lunch, which consisted mainly of bread and butter and sugar, hard boiled eggs, and cookies. They had stiffly arisen, and had walked forward not twenty paces, when up from under the high bank of a narrow inlet just in front of them, jumped straight into the air, with a quack and a sputter, a panic-stricken something, and was off like a bullet. ”

“ Around school passed the word among Ned and Hal and Tom and kindred spirits to “come to Breede’s Hill and help break it.”
Breede’s Hill—ah, but that was a hill for you! [154] Two blocks of slope and two blocks more of slide, and all, in the height of the season, as smooth as oil! Here were four blocks of street practically given over to the coasters. For a driver to try the slippery incline, either on wheels or on runners, was foolhardy; while to cross at the base was to invite a sudden attack from catapult bob or sled. ”

“ They retired early up-stairs, the better to talk. They simply had to talk, or they would have exploded. About ten o’clock, when the household was quiet and abed, they climbed out of the window of Ned’s room, scampered softly in their stockinged feet across the sloping roof of the little side porch, lowered themselves to the ground, hurriedly put on their shoes, scurried for the back fence, vaulted it, and at last were safely in the protecting alley.
There was no moon, and, old woodsmen though they were, their way seemed to get all mixed up, full of sticks and cans and holes and hillocks. ”