sudden and unaccountable reunion of the two wandering bands.—a tremendous circle described by somebody.—where are we going? scott’s bay, or hall’s harbor.—descent into the plain.—twinkling lights.—sudden sound of sea surf breaking in the middle of a prairie.
and now every moment it grew darker and darker. it was about eight o’clock. the sun had gone down, the shadows of night were gathering, and the fog seemed thicker than ever. as they walked on they could see but a few paces before them.
they supposed themselves to be going in the direction of the house where the wagons were left; but, after all, they were not quite sure of the way. it might be some other road altogether. they had been over the scott’s bay road once or twice before, but it would not have been familiar even by daylight, while in such gloom as this, no road, however familiar, could be recognized. as they went they peered anxiously through the gloom, in hopes of seeing cultivated fields, or houses. but nothing of the kind appeared to their anxious eyes. they also looked forward with straining eyes, and listened with the closest attention, in hopes of meeting with some people who might make them acquainted with their actual position. but nothing could be either seen or heard in front, and so they had nothing else to do than to walk on as quickly as their wearied limbs would allow.
at length they heard the sound of voices ahead, and footsteps, which seemed to approach them. they stood and waited. soon a number of figures appeared, rendered gigantic by the mist and darkness. the boys hurried towards them, and bruce at once addressed the foremost figure.
the foremost figure at the same instant addressed bruce.
and both asked exactly the same question, or rather part of what would evidently have been the same question if it had been finished.
it was,—
bruce. “will you be kind enough to tell me—”
foremost figure. “will you have the goodness to tell me—”
here the questions broke off abruptly.
and turned to,—
bruce. “hallo!”
foremost figure. “why! what’s this!”
bruce. “dr. porter!!!”
foremost figure. “bruce rawdon!!!”
for a few moments both parties were overwhelmed with utter bewilderment and a total prostration of all their faculties. this amazing and incomprehensible reunion of those who had parted five hours ago in the wild woods, by the lofty precipice and the thundering surf, going in exactly opposite directions, yet coming together in darkness and fog, was a thing which might well reduce them to complete stupefaction.
then there arose a general uproar of questions, each party asking the other where they had been, and where they supposed themselves to be now, and where they thought they were going.
“this is a most incomprehensible thing!” said the doctor.
“how long have you been on the road, sir?”
“not over a quarter of an hour.”
“have you been in the woods all the time?”
“yes, walking steadily in this direction.”
“and could you manage to keep a straight course?”
“o, yes.”
“you didn’t walk along the cliff—did you, sir?”
“o, no.”
“i don’t see how you managed to go on straight when you were in the woods.”
“o, i managed by my eye,” said the doctor, calmly. “i also tried to correct that tendency to swerve to the right that you spoke of, and i think i succeeded. you see, i found i was very much farther away from hall’s harbor than i supposed. in fact, your conjecture must have been right, and we were nearer scott’s bay by a great deal than we were to hall’s harbor. we had swerved very much to the right. as i went on i became convinced of this, and tried constantly and most carefully to guard against it. i succeeded therefore in going almost in a perfectly straight line. but our march was a very fatiguing one, i must confess. it grew dark, too, and we were just on the point of giving up, when we came to a pasture field, and then found the road. we didn’t see any houses near, and couldn’t find how far away any house might be. at first i thought of going to hall’s harbor, but finally i concluded to turn to the left, and go on towards cornwallis. but you, how did you happen to lose your course so completely? why, you’ve made a complete circle. you must have been turning to the right ever since you left. you’ve got into the hall’s harbor road, and are now walking straight towards hall’s harbor. what a most extraordinary and most absurd situation! i wouldn’t have believed this to be possible, had it not been first for my own mistake to-day, and now for this one of yours. but it seems to me, bruce, that your circle has been more complete than mine was. what a tremendous march you must have made!”
bruce for a few minutes said nothing. the doctor’s quiet way of informing him about his situation bewildered him more than the first discovery had done. a “tremendous” circuit it must indeed have been. how had they managed to go so fast, and reach the road before the doctor’s party? it must have been that chase after pat which put them astray. after that they had lost all idea of their way, and had wandered on blindly, not knowing where they were going, and for that matter not caring very much, either.
“but are you sure that this is the hall’s harbor road?” he asked at length.
“why, yes—of course it is. it ought to be—we’ve come far enough to get to it. what did you think it was?”
“why, we thought it was the scott’s bay road.”
“the scott’s bay road!” cried the doctor, and burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
“well, sir,” said bruce, “to tell the truth, we got utterly lost. pat began chasing a porcupine, and we chased pat, and followed him wherever he went. at last we lost him. so then we didn’t think about reaching the road at all, but only about finding him. we went on in the direction which he seemed to have taken, and so we came to this road. it was the porcupine that led us here.
“the porcupine,” said the doctor; and he appeared so amused at this idea, that bruce had to tell him the whole story.
“the fact is,” said the doctor, thoughtfully, after hearing this story, “what you ought to have done is this: you ought at all hazards to have followed the line of the cliff. that would have brought you to scott’s bay in a little more than an hour. you could then have gone to the house where the horses were left, and by this time you would have been in comfortable quarters, pitying us poor wanderers.”
“well,” said bruce, “we tried to keep close by the cliff, but it ran off in such a direction that we left it, and went in what we thought a truer course.”
“ha, ha!” laughed the doctor. “that is always the way. the cliff was right, but you were wrong. the cliff did not turn away from you, but you turned away from the cliff. it was all that fatal tendency to turn to the right. now, i was on my guard; but you, who gave me that warning, forgot all about it yourself. but come, it won’t do to stand here all night talking. we are now about half way over the mountain. we ought soon to begin to descend towards cornwallis. there’s a man who lives on this road that i’m acquainted with,—a mr. smalley,—and his house can’t be very far away. we can get something to eat there at least, and accommodations for the night. but i prefer getting wagons and driving over to where we left our own conveyances. however, we can see about that when we get to smalley’s.”
the whole party now walked on, and the boys mingled with one another, questioning each other about the journey. the doctor’s party had suffered fearfully. they were all foot-sore, and their clothes were badly torn. they had gone through swamps and brushwood, and over stones and fallen trees. they were fearfully fatigued, and were now only sustained by the prospect of soon reaching the end of their journey. all this was a great puzzle to bruce’s party, who were not nearly so fatigued; and they couldn’t understand how they could have gone so much farther than the doctor’s party without feeling so worn out as their friends were. they attributed this, however, first to the fact that the doctor had gone in one perfectly straight course, regardless of obstacles; and secondly, to the other fact, that their journey had been beguiled by pat’s adventure with the porcupine, which first afforded them amusement, and afterwards, when he was lost, created such an excitement that they forgot their toils.
after walking some distance farther, the road, to their great delight, began to descend.
“we’re going down to cornwallis,” said the doctor, joyously. “we’re very much farther on than i supposed. we are evidently far beyond smalley’s. i see how it is. in my anxiety to avoid swerving to the right, i have fallen, as you said, bruce, into the opposite extreme, and have actually swerved to the left. that accounts for the immense length of our journey. well, now that it’s over, i’m glad that it happened so. it brings us all the nearer to our destination. at the foot of the hill lives mr. atkins, who will give us far better accommodation than smalley. one mile more, boys, only one mile, and then we’ll have rest.”
the doctor’s encouraging words cheered all the boys, and the fact that they were actually descending the hill, and were thus every moment drawing nearer to their destination, had an additional influence in giving them fresh energy.
so they descended farther and farther, and now kept on the lookout more vigilantly than ever for the welcome lights of some houses.
“it’s a long descent,” said the doctor, “but every step is bringing us nearer to atkins’s; so keep your courage up, boys, for we’ll soon be there now.”
on they went, and descended lower and lower, till at last they seemed to have reached the plain, for the road became level, and went on straight, without any more windings.
at length there appeared a faint light not far away on the left.
“that must be atkins’s,” said the doctor. “but how very thick the fog is even here! i never knew it so thick in cornwallis. and the air is just like that of the sea-shore. it is very seldom that it is so on this side of the mountain.”
“i suppose it’s the strong southerly wind,” said bart.
“yes, i dare say.”
“the wind seems to strike us here from a very odd direction. it must come across the basin of minas. it’s just as though it came from the east.”
“o, we can’t tell,” said the doctor. “this road winds so that we get it sometimes in our faces, and sometimes in our backs.”
“it must be after nine,” said bruce.
“yes,” said the doctor; “and i dare say we’ve passed several houses on the road. the people here are not very liberal in the use of candles. they sit around the kitchen fire till about nine o’clock, and then go to bed. that’s the reason why we have not seen any lights. there must be quite a number of houses along here.”
by this time they had come in front of the house. it stood about a dozen yards from the road. the light proceeded from a small, lower window. the house was only a cottage, and the dim outline of a barn could be seen a little farther on.
“this does not look like atkins’s,” said the doctor, after he had scanned the cottage and the barn. “atkins’s is very much larger than this, and is a different looking place altogether. i don’t think we can have passed it. no, it must be farther on. at any rate, we can ask here, and they can tell us exactly how far we have yet to go. i’m sorry it isn’t atkins’s, though, for i fully expected to be there. besides, we all want rest.”
the doctor looked once more at the house, and then at the barn. as they stood there, thus looking in silence, there came to their ears a very peculiar sound, which made every one start.
it was a long, rolling sound, made up of the rush of many waters, such as can be heard nowhere else but upon the sea-shore—that peculiar noise of gathering floods, such as is heard when the sea throws forth its waves towards the land, to curl up, foaming, and break upon the strand. here it arose amid this darkness,—that peculiar, that unmistakable sound,—with its gathering waters, its foam, its roll, and its crash as the uplifted waters broke,—the sound that can be made by the surf, and the surf alone.
but what did it mean?
what was the meaning of the surf breaking thus upon the inner side of the north mountain, far inland, on the plains of cornwallis?
were the dikes broken down? was this some flood pouring in over the country to overwhelm them? was the raging sea now rolling, in undisturbed possession of its ancient bed, over all the green valleys of this lately smiling plain? was there the terrific visitation of a deluge here in this peaceful country? and were all the people now flying from the horrors of an inundation?
what did it mean?
up to this moment there had not been a doubt in the minds of any of them that they were near atkins’s, somewhere in cornwallis, on the hall’s harbor road. the doctor’s quiet positiveness, the perfect certainty with which he had spoken, and the minute acquaintance which he seemed to have with every part of their past and present journey, all conspired to impress upon the minds of the boys the very idea of their possible locality which was in his own mind; and thus it happened that it was while they fully believed themselves entering upon a wide plain that they suddenly heard the thunder of the surf upon the shore.
the doctor heard this as plainly as any of them, of course, and all the thoughts which came to them came to him also none the less vividly. but he said not a single word.. he stood mute, and waited for a few moments longer, as though doubting the evidence of his senses.
once more the sound arose. the waters gathered themselves together, they rolled forward, they heaped themselves upward, they foamed, and then they broke upon the shore. thus, wave after wave, the surf came on, and spoke of the presence of the sea!
it was enough.
“i don’t know where in the world we have got to,” ejaculated the doctor, at last.
“it can’t be cornwallis,” said bruce.
“we must be on the shore of minas basin,” said bogud.
“i think it’s pereau,” said bart.
“i don’t know where it is,” said the doctor; “but, bruce, i shouldn’t be surprised if you should prove right a second time. but the best way is to go and ask.”
saying this, the doctor hurried to the door of the cottage. as they drew near, a strong smell of fish arose, and formed a new and striking proof of the presence of the sea. reaching the door, the doctor knocked loudly, and all the boys gathered round to hear the result of his inquiry, and learn their fate.
at first there was no response.
the doctor knocked again.
footsteps were now heard, and a voice cried out,—
“who’s there?”
“friends,” said the doctor. “we’ve lost our way, and want to find it.”
“go round to the back door; this’n won’t open,” said the voice.
at this they turned away to look for the back door, wondering, as they went, what the occupant of the house supposed a front door was made for. it seemed to them like stories which they had read of some dutch villages, where the people are so excessively neat that the “front door” and the “best room” are never used except on two great occasions; one being a marriage, and the other a burial. at all other times the back door and the back rooms are used.
so to this back door they tried to work their way round the house. as they went round, the smell of decayed fish came up more strongly, more overpoweringly, and more impressively than ever. evidently the people of the cottage had something to do with fish. they either caught them, or traded in them, or cured them. who were they? was it pereau—or was it—what?
turning the house, the fresh wind came upon them, driving against them the dense fog clouds, and hiding everything before them from view. but through that gloom there swept upon their hearing a recurrence of the solemn boom of the surf which had startled them a few moments before, when they first paused to look at the cottage. there it came, the sound of the gathering waters, rising gradually, breaking, and flinging the roar of the falling waters far away along the shore.
here they were, then, by the sea; here the surf rolled; here were the signs of fish. evidently these people were fishermen, and their life was on the ocean wave. suddenly they encountered some large object which was right in their way. through the gloom they could see the outline of a whaling boat, that is, a boat sharp at both ends, which is often used by fishermen in these waters. this excited no surprise, however. it only confirmed what had been told them by the booming surf and the odors wafted from the decaying fish.
on reaching the rear of the house they found the aforsaid back door wide open, and a man standing in the doorway, with a candle in one hand and a pipe in the other. the candle flared, and flickered, and sputtered in the wind and fog; and he was blinking through the darkness, and trying to catch a glimpse of his visitors.
he was a short, thick-set, red-faced man, with whiskers running all round in a “sea dog” sort of fashion, checked shirt, and canvas trousers, which bore numerous marks made by tar. his waistcoat was unbuttoned, so as to give free play to the organs of his manly chest. he had no coat, and, for that matter, no boots. in point of fact, he was in his stocking feet. his grizzled hair and beard showed him to belong to the elderly class of mankind; but his stout, sturdy frame and bluff countenance exhibited no decay of strength.
“lost yer way?” said he, as he caught sight of them. “wal, come in, any how. we’ll talk it over. walk in, all on ye, the whole fifty of ye, for that matter. ole bennie grigg can find room for ye. walk in, walk in.”
“but where are we?” asked the doctor. “what place is this?”
“what place? haw, haw, haw! what! don’t you even know the place? haw, haw, haw! why, this here place is scott’s bay!”
