as the admiral passed from lake st. clair through the st. clair flats, the boys beheld with interest and wonder the colony of cottages and hotels built on the very water’s edge of the american side, with the scores of launches scudding hither and thither, carrying merry vacationists on visits to friends or to fishing grounds. on the canadian side, however, they could see nothing but a vast expanse of reeds and water-grass, splendid for duck shooting but otherwise useless.
“how do the people get here? aren’t there any roads?” asked ted, as he looked in vain for some means of connection with the mainland.
“to be sure,” replied the skipper, whose customary geniality had been restored by the receipt of a wireless message ordering him to set the unwelcome guards ashore at the soo, as the sault st. claire is nicknamed.
“where are they? i can’t see any,” returned the boy.
“you notice those lanes of water, don’t you?” and captain perkins pointed to a series of courses, some twelve feet wide, which traversed the flats at intervals of two or three hundred feet.
“yes.”
“well, those are the streets.”
“oh, i mean regular dirt streets,” protested ted.
“there aren’t any. unless you come by launch or some of the big passenger boats that ply between the summer settlements and detroit, you can’t get within ten miles of the colony here.”
at this statement the young homesteaders looked with increased interest at the novel settlement, and ted began:
“why, it’s a regular—”
“don’t say it,” interrupted the skipper; “there’s a fine of five dollars, if you do.”
“say what?” demanded the boy. “how do you know what i was going to say?”
“because they all do. we sailors have become so tired of hearing guests call this colony ‘an american venice’ that we have established a fine against the expression.”
“much obliged for saving me the money,” smiled ted. “but it is a wonderful sight for a person who has never seen it”
“i suppose so. it’s the bane of all ore carriers, however. the people in the launches persist in crossing our bows and darting in and out, until it gives our wheelsmen a nervous fit trying to avoid running them down.”
the admiral, however, passed the colony without accident and was soon in the st. clair river, whence she passed into lake huron, where it was again plain sailing till the st. mary’s river was reached.
“m’m, what a delicious odour! smell it, ted?” exclaimed phil, as he sniffed the twilight air, while the big carrier checked speed and passed between the lights marking the channel.
“that is from the pine forests,” explained captain perkins. “you are fortunate to get the pure fragrance. later in the season there are usually fires raging, either in michigan or canadian forests, making the air stifling with smoke. i’ve seen it so dense that we were obliged to barely creep along, and blow our whistles just as in a fog.”
the handling of the six-hundred-foot vessel as she steamed up the detroit river had filled the boys with wonder, but as she made the sharp turns in the st. mary’s, now being obliged to clear a government dredge at work in the channel, now running so close to the shore that it seemed they could jump from the bridge to land, they were amazed at the ease and skill with which the big carrier was navigated.
“mr. adams, mr. adams!” shouted the skipper. and as the mate hurried from the pilot house, he added: “see if you can pick up a spar-buoy, off the port bow.”
intently the officer peered through the fast-increasing darkness for a sight of the red light. “can’t see it, sir,” he replied.
“then heave the lead, quick! if the light is out of commission, we may ground before we can make this turn.”
ere the last words were uttered, the mate had stepped onto a plank projecting from the bridge, picked up a long line to which bits of red and white bunting were alternately attached at regular intervals, with a slug of lead at the end, and, with a preliminary swing, shot it into the water well toward the bow of the boat, then hauled it aboard rapidly as the vessel came abreast of him.
“three fathoms and a foot!” he cried. “starboard your helm, hard over!” roared the captain, springing toward the opening which communicated with the wheelsman in the pilot house below.
“starboard your helm, hard over!” repeated the wheelsman, in accordance with ship’s custom.
again the first mate heaved the lead.
“three fathoms, lacking two inches!” he called.
“hold your helm hard over!” snapped the skipper, and, as the repetition came to him, he pressed a button for full speed astern.
as the electricity carried the command to the indicator in the engine room, the terrific churning of the water as the propellers whirled in reversed motion broke the stillness of the evening air, the boat quivered, then began to back.
“three fathoms and seven inches,” announced the mate.
“close work,” muttered captain perkins to himself, as he pressed another button for quarter speed ahead.
farther and farther the admiral’s bow swung to starboard as the wheelsman held the wheel over hard, and the mate’s next announcement of three fathoms and a half told them that the boat was once again in the channel.
“stern will go over a buoy,” warned mr. adams, as he glanced back before returning to the bridge.
“hard aport!” commanded the skipper, stepping to a spot whence he could watch the light on the spar-buoy aft.
“hard aport!” came the confirmation.
“three fathoms, lacking an inch!” called the mate, who, in view of the danger of grounding astern, was again heaving the lead.
“starboard, three points!” yelled the captain, adding to himself, “plague take that current, it’s liable to drive me on yet.”
with a quickness that was remarkable, considering her size, the admiral responded to her tiller, and again her nose swung away from the shore of the channel.
as he noted the fact, the skipper once more called for full speed, but this time ahead.
“they can fine me for exceeding the speed limit for this river if they want to, but i’m not going to run the danger of swinging across the channel, bow and stern on, just for lack of a little speed,” he declared.
no further man?uvring was necessary, however, to negotiate the surprisingly sharp turn, and when he was clear, the skipper checked his speed.
“what are those things along the michigan side, captain? they look like cabins. i’ve noticed several of them,” said phil, pointing to dark masses that stood out from the rest of the shore line.
“indian shacks.”
“indians here? what do they do?” exclaimed ted.
“pick blueberries, fish and sell them and the things they weave to the tourists at the soo.”
“i wish it was daylight so that we could see them. just think, real indians, phil!”
“oh, you’ll have a chance to see enough of them at the canal,” smiled the skipper.
“but they don’t go into the town, do they? i should think they would scare the women and children to death.”
“they not only go into the soo, but they bother the life out of people trying to sell their wares. the quickest way to get rid of them is to buy something. children don’t even notice them, unless to make fun of them. but you mustn’t expect to see story-book indians, in war paint, feathers, and blankets. they have taken to trousers and shirts.”
the disappointment which settled on ted’s face at this shattering of his mental picture of the redmen caused the skipper to add with a smile:
“you can still get a thrill from them, though, if we are held up at the canal, by getting one to shoot the st. mary’s rapids with you.”
“provided you can find one sober enough,” supplemented the first mate.
“oh, i hope so,” declared the younger boy. “do they shoot the rapids in canoes or boats?”
“in canoes. you can’t get an indian into a boat without a derrick, too much work to row one.”
the guidance of the big carrier again claiming the captain’s attention, the boys, their minds filled with redskins, descended to the deck, where they sought out some of the crew, who regaled them with experiences, some very fanciful, they had had with the redmen.
“get to your posts, you huskies! watchman, call the other watch!” snapped hansen, coming up to the group. “you boys better go to the bridge if you want to see how we lock a ship through the canal—and you’ll be out of the way there,” he added to himself, as the sailors obeyed. for when an ore carrier docks or goes through the canal, all the crew are called on duty, regardless of whether it is their watch on or off.
“are we at the soo now?” asked phil.
“will be in about ten minutes. see those lights ahead? the ones on the right are in the canadian town. some difference between that glim and the one on our side, to the left, what?”
“i should say so, but what are all those red, green, and white lights just ahead of us?” asked ted, as they mounted to the bridge.
“boats waiting to lock through,” replied the first mate.
“which means you will get your chance to shoot the rapids all right,” observed the captain. “we shall be lucky if we get through before noon, there are so many ahead of us. mr. adams, when you find a good berth, let the anchors go.”
