"it's the sign," said brother bart gratefully, as he caught sight of the fluttering pennant. "he was to wave the flag to us so we would know the boat. keep together now, boys," continued their anxious guardian, who was a little bewildered by a rush and struggle to which he was not accustomed. "ah, god help them that have to push their way in a world like this! hold to my hand, laddie, or ye'll be tramped down. straight behind me now, the rest of ye, so ye won't be lost."
and, marshalling his boyish force, brother bart pressed on through the hurrying throngs that surged over gangway (for it was the height of the holiday season) until he reached the shabby little boat whose occupant was a very old man with a face brown and wrinkled as tanned leather. a long scar across his cheek had twisted his mouth into a crooked smile. he spat a large quid of tobacco into the water, and greeted his passengers with an old sea dog's growl:
"been waitin' more than an hour for ye, but that consarned boat ain't never on time! hit some pretty rough weather, i reckon, out at sea?"
"we did," answered brother bart, with feeling. "it's the mercy of god we're alive to tell the tale. in with ye, boys, and sit steady. take the middle of the boat, laddie, and hold to dan. give me a hand to help me in; for i'm weak and shaking yet. the lord's will be done, but i never thought to be sailing the seas in a cockleshell like this," added the good man, as the boat rocked under his sturdy weight when he sank heavily into his place.
"i say so, too. let's hire something better," replied dud fielding, eagerly.
"thar ain't nothing better or safer than this here 'sary ann' along the shore," said the boat's master, grimly. "i sot every timber in her myself. she ain't got a crack or a creak in her. i keeled her and calked her, and i'll lay her agin any of them painted and gilded play-toys to weather the toughest gale on this here coast. you're as safe in the 'sary ann,' padre, as if you were in church saying your prayers."
"i'm no padre," disclaimed brother bart, hastily. "i'm only an humble lay-brother, my good man, that has come to take care of these boys."
"brother or father, it's all the same to me," was the gruff answer. "i'm a hardshell baptist myself, but i've only good feelings to your kind. my old captain was one of you, and never a better man walked the deck. now, duck, my lads, while i swing out the sail and we'll be off."
the passengers ducked their heads hurriedly while the 'sary ann's' boom swung around. her tawny sail caught the wind, and she was off with a light, swift grace that her looks belied.
"golly, she can clip it!" exclaimed jim norris, who had a home on the chesapeake and knew all about a boat. "what sort of a rig is she, anyhow?"
"mixed like good terbacker," briefly answered the owner, as he leaned back comfortably at the helm and bit off another chew. "sloop, skiff, outrigger, lugger,--she's got the good points of all and none of their kicks. not that she ain't got a spirit of her own. every boat worth anything hez. thar's days when she takes the wind and thar's no holdin' her. you jest have to let her spread her wings to it and go. but, lord, let that same wind begin to growl and mutter, let them waves begin to cap and swell, and the 'sary ann' is ready for them, you bet. she will drop all her fun and frolic, and scud along brave and bare agin the wildest gale that ever leashed a coast. and them young bloods over yon laugh at her," continued the 'sary ann's' owner, glowering at the gay buildings of the fashionable "boat club" they were just now passing. "they call her the corsair,' which is no christian name to give an honest boat."
"you're right," said brother bart: "and, though you haven't the true faith, you seem to be a christian yourself. what is your name, my good man?"
"jeroboam jimson," was the answer. "leastways that was what i was christened, my mother going in heavy for scripture names. i had a twin brother nebuchanezzar. sort of mouth-filling for general use, so we was naturally shortened down to neb and jeb. most folks call me jeb yet."
"it comes easier," said brother bart; "though i'd never think of giving it to a man of your years. it seems a pity, with the litany of the saints convenient, to have to go back so far for a name. but that is no fault of yours, as god knows. have you been living long in this place we are going to?"
"more than five and forty years," was the answer,--"since the 'lady jane' struck the rocks off killykinick, november 27, 1865. i was second mate to old captain kane; and i stood by him until last may, when he took the cruise that every man has to make by himself. and i'm standing by his ship 'cording to orders yet. 'blood is thicker than water, mate,' he says to me; 'i've got to leave all that i have to little polly raynor's boy, but you're to stick to the ship as long as you live. i've hed that put down in the log with my name to it, and priest and lawyer and doctor as witness. you're captain jeroboam jimson of the "lady jane," in my place, and thar ain't no land sharks nor water sharks can bother ye.' i lay that's the chap he called polly's boy," said captain jeb, turning his eyes on freddy, who, seated at brother bart's side, had been listening, with flattering interest, to the old sailor's conversation.
"yes," he spoke up eagerly, "my mother was polly. did you know her?"
"i did," said captain jeb, nodding. "she came down here once as a bit of a girl, dancing over the sands like a water kelpie. the old captain didn't care much for women folks, but he was sot on her sure. then she come down agin as a bride, purty and shy and sweet; but the old man warn't so pleased then,--growled he didn't know what girls wanted to get married for, nohow. so you're her boy!" the old man's eyes softened as they rested on freddy. "you've got a sort of look of her, though you ain't as pretty,--not nigh."
meanwhile the "sary ann," her tawny sail swelling in the wind, had left the gay beach and bathers and boat club of beach cliff, and was making the swell of the waves like a sea bird on the wing.
"easy now, lass!" cautioned captain jeb, as they neared a white line of breakers, and he stood up firm and strong at the helm. "steady, all of you younkers; for we're crossing the bar. many a good ship has left her bones on this same reef. easy, 'sary ann'! it's no place for fooling round here."
and, as if to emphasize his words, the black shadows of a wrecked ship rose gaunt and grim before them.
"struck the reef two months ago," explained the captain, with eye and hand still steady on his helm. "can't get her off. captain fool enough to try beach cliff harbor without a native pilot! why, thar ain't no books nor charts can tell you nothing 'bout navigating round these here islands: you have to larn it yourself. it's the deceivingest stretch along the whole atlantic coast. thar's times when this here bar, that is biling deep with water now, is bare enough for one of you chaps to walk across without wetting your knees. easy now, 'sary ann'! ketch hold of that rope, younker, and steady the sail a bit. so thar, we're over the shoals. now clip it, my lass" (and the old man swung the sail free),--"clip it fast as you like for killykinick."
and, almost as if she could hear the "sary ann" leaped forward with the bulging sail, and was off at the word; while captain jeb, the harbor reef safely passed, leaned back in his boat and pointed out to his young passengers (for even the elegant dud was roused into eager curiosity) the various things of interest on their way: the light ship, the lighthouses, the fishing fleet stretching dim and hazy on the far horizon, the great ocean liner only a faint shadow trailing a cloud of smoke in the blue distance.
"them big fellows give us the go by now, though time was when they used to come from far and near; all kinds--spanish, portugee, east indian. them was the whaling days, when beach cliff was one of the greatest places on the coast. she stands out so far she hed the first bite at things. all the sailing ships made for snug harbor here. but, betwixt the steamboats and the railroads gobbling up everything, and the earth itself taking to spouting oil, things are pretty dead and gone here now."
"but lots of fine folks come in the summer time," said dud.
"and there's a church!" exclaimed brother bart, who had caught a passing glimpse of a cross-crowned spire. "thank god we'll not be beyond the light and truth entirely! you're to take us to mass every sunday, my good man; and we are to give you a dollar for the trouble of it, to say nothing of the blessing upon your own soul. were you ever at mass?"
"never," answered captain jeb.
"ah, god help you, poor man!" said brother bart. "sure we never know our own blessings till we talk with them that's left in the darkness. but it's not too late for the grace of heaven to reach you yet. never been to mass! well, well, well!" brother bart shook his head, and, as if unable to cope with such hopeless religious dearth, relapsed into silence.
"is it much further to killykinick?" asked dan, who, with shining eyes had been taking in all this novel experience. "looks like we're heading out to nowhere."
the "sary ann," with the wind full in her sail, seemed bearing off into sunlit distance, where sky and sea met. there was a faint, shadowy line to the left; and just beyond, a dim pencil point pierced the cloudless blue.
"that's a lighthouse, isn't it?" asked jim, who had a sailor's eye.
"yes," growled captain jeb, his leathery face darkening. "why they wanted to set up that consarned thing just across from killykinick, i don't know. hedn't we been showing a light thar for nigh onto fifty years? but some of these know-alls come along and said it wasn't the right kind; it oughter blink. and they made the old captain pull down the light that he had been burning steady and true, and the government sot up that thar newfangled thing a flashing by clockwork on numbskull nob. it did make the old man hot, sure. 'shet the window, mate,' he said to me when he was dying and wanted air badly. 'i can't go off in peace with that devilish thing of numbskull nob a winking at me.' duck agin, all hands! 'sary ann' swings around here. thar's killykinick to starboard!"
and all hands "ducked" as rope and canvas rattled under captain jeb's guiding hand; and the "sary ann" swept from her dancing course to the boundless blue towards the shadowy line and dim pencil point now growing into graceful lighthouse and rocky shore. numbskull nob, jutting up from a hidden reef, over which a line of white-capped breakers was booming thunderously, seemed to justify the presence of the modern light that warned off closer approach to the island; for the stretch of water that lay between was a treacherous shoal where many a good ship had stranded in years gone by, when killykinick was only a jagged ledge of rock where the sea birds nested and man had no place. but things had changed now. a rude but sturdy breakwater made a miniature harbor in which several small boats floated at their moorings; a whitewashed wharf jutted out into the waves; the stretch of rocky shore beyond had been roughly terraced into easy approach.
"easy now, boys,--easy!" warned brother bart anxiously, as the "sary ann" grated against her home pier, and captain jeroboam proceeded to make fast. "don't be leaping off till you know the way."
but brother bart might have called to the dashing waves. this killykinick was very different from the desert they had expected; and, with shouts of delight from jim, dud and dan, even little freddy sprang ashore. shrubs and trees of strange growth nodded and waved amid the rocks; here and there in sheltered crannies were beds of blooming flowers; and in the lee of a towering rock that kept off the fury of storm and wind stood the very queerest house the young explorers had ever seen.
