Chapter XI: Blown Out to Sea

Up in the north the weather continued clear and calm and beautiful; woods and forests, now bedded with fallen leaves, a carpet on which those feeble folk the coneys played and gambolled all day long, but ready, aye ready, to dart into their burrows should their 'cute, alert ears detect the sound of a footfall or snapping of a twiglet in the distance.

The sun went down about three in the afternoon now, but the gloaming was long, and the stars ever so large and near and brilliant. Indeed, the tallest spruce-trees seemed high enough to move amongst them, one would have thought. The aurora borealis danced and flitted on the northern sky above the sea every night, their marching spears of light sometimes darting upwards as far as the zenith.

There was but little doing in camp at present. The show was seldom visited except when some new feature was advertised in the neighbouring towns. The merman, it was stated in the _Murlin and Creel_, was hibernating, but sometimes awoke and came to the surface, ravenous for want of food. The dreaded dooroocoolie gave voice but seldom now, but was quite prepared to swallow any boy under fifteen that came within reach of its fearful jaws.

It must not be supposed, however, that there was any such thing as idleness in the camp. No, for every one under Biffins Lee had to work hard for his 'screw.' Moreover, there was to be great doings about the New Year, and when these were over the Queerest Show would be preparing for the spring campaign. But New Year's Day was some distance ahead yet, so Lotty had plenty of time to row, to sail, and manœuvre her _New Jenny Wren_. She took the skiff out first all alone by herself, but did not venture to sail. So pleased with her seaworthiness was she that she next took Chops with her, and this youth was even a better sailor than Lotty. They tried the _Jenny Wren_ with the mainsail, then with mainsail and jib, and in a second and third cruise also with the gaff most tentatively. The ballast was well secured so as not to shift, and Lotty clapped her hands with delight to see how close to the wind the pretty craft could sail, and how like a 'puffick hangel,' as Chops called her, she behaved.

Then after this Lotty ventured out alone with Wallace, bending what she called her storm-jib, and having a reef in the mainsail, but no gaff. With so well-ballasted and nicely built a boat this was a very safe rig. Last of all, she took Antony himself for a sail, and tried the experiment of having Wallace at the same time lying on a lot of tarpaulin for'ard towards the bows. Everything went well, and young Blake expressed himself as delighted beyond measure.

Lotty's experiments were not nearly all over yet. But the thoughtful child always went alone when there was the slightest danger, and there was always a spice of this when there was a bit of a breeze on. On such occasions the marvel was that the _Jenny Wren_ did not capsize; but her little skipper evidently knew what she was about. She went round, too, with the greatest caution; and sometimes, had she not been one of the strongest girls for her age that ever swung an Indian club, her boat-sail would have defeated her. She always kept her craft well trimmed, and had an eagle eye to the ballast before she put to sea. And such confidence did Lotty gain at last, not only in her own prowess and management, but in the seaworthiness and good qualities of the _Jenny Wren_, that she feared nothing, and never seemed to be so much at home as when out on the open sea.

Biffins Lee, to tell the whole truth, rather encouraged her in rashness than the contrary. This man was inordinately fond of money, or rather perhaps the making of it. To him this was a species of gambling that he could never tire of; and now--at times when Lotty was out in her boat, 'evoluting,' as she called it--he used to walk the beach, watching her through his spyglass, and wondering whether he could not make this infant prodigy of his pay as a daring child-sailor.

It is doubtful whether he had any real love for Lotty apart from the money she brought to his purse, the grist to his mill. Her feats of strength were certainly marvellous enough in all conscience for one so young. Somehow, Frank Antony did not like to see his little friend on the stage performing any of her 'tit-bits,' as she laughingly called them. He had seen her once swinging the clubs to music with a gracefulness of strength and attitudes such as he had never believed possible. But he had not gone a second time. He used to hear the wild shouts of applause sometimes when he knew her to be acting, and was satisfied with that.

There is, of course, a deal of art and artfulness in feats of strength. Every muscle of the body must be made the right use of at the proper time, and every nerve and sinew has to perform its own duty in its own place. There must be method, else, to put it in plain language, one muscle may get in the way of the other.

It was very easy for Lotty, after getting gracefully into position, to have Skeleton to leap nimbly on her shoulders and stand there, a trained cat running up his back and sitting down on his head, and finally a white rat to run up over all, and, standing on pussy's back, wave the Union-jack. It was more difficult for Lotty to balance herself with one foot on Wallace's shoulders and one on his rump, her arms extended, and thus permit Skeleton to take his place on her shoulders. But the main feat of strength undoubtedly lay in rising off the stage, on which she had crouched, with all the weight of Mary the fat lady on her back. This was not only wonderful, but it was positive cruelty to the child. Only, it brought down the house, and that was all Biffins Lee cared about.

There were performing Shetland ponies at the Queerest Show on Earth, and with these not only Lotty, but Chops, Skeleton, and Mary performed in a marvellous way. One pony was but little bigger than Wallace, and the two together never failed to create quite a sensation, so numerous were the tricks they tried. The strange thing is this: in their play not even Biffins Lee himself knew beforehand exactly what was going to take place. There appeared to be the most complete understanding betwixt dog and pony. Sometimes it was Wallace who suggested a new antic, and sometimes it was evidently the pony. But it was certain that both of them were delighted with the roars of laughter they succeeded in eliciting from the audience. At the conclusion of a performance like this Lee would come to the front of the stage, leading Wallace with his left hand and Tony the pony with his right. Both animals bent low their heads and forelegs by way of making a bow, then Lee would put to his audience the question: 'Which is the nobler animal?' and asked for a show of hands, first for Wallace, and then for Tony. It was not always apparent who had it. Only, Wallace was not yet eighteen months old, while Tony scored ten years.

No, it was not Lotty the show-girl whom Antony loved--well, liked, then--but Lotty, his dear, delightful little companion of the woods and wilds.

* * * * *

Terrible are the squalls that sometimes rise suddenly during the winter over this far northern sea, and frequently they break the weather for days. Probably Lotty had become too confident in the sailing qualities and prowess of her tiny yacht and in her undoubted abilities as skipper; and she thus grew almost foolhardy. But then she was only a child, albeit an infant prodigy.

There is a long twilight even in winter up in these latitudes; but one afternoon the sea was so inviting, the sky so serene, that Lotty had been manœuvring the _Jenny Wren_ farther from shore than probably she believed herself to be. Suddenly she noticed a huge black cloud rising rapidly up in the south-west. So dense and dark was it that, though fringed along its top-edge at first by the yellow-gold light of sunset, it speedily assumed the appearance of a huge pall obscuring the sky and obliterating every vestige of twilight from the surface of the sea. Lotty could see a line of foam approaching, and for the first time in her boating career she felt nervous. She never lost her presence of mind for one moment, however.

The wind had changed a bit, and well she knew it would soon blow almost a hurricane off the shore. But she was ready. Down went the helm; she lowered sail quickly. The danger was in broaching-to, and she had to act as skipper and crew as well--ay, and the man at the wheel--for she must try to keep the skiffs head to the wind and seas. Only her extraordinary strength enabled her now to unstep the mast, and this with the oars and sail she quickly tied together with some spare rope and the sheet. She worked cautiously, yet with a speed that was wondrous, tying everything securely and with the best of sailor's knots, and finally crawling aft and fastening the boat's painter firmly to the whole as near to the centre of the jib as possible.

Then overboard with a flash went the lashed oars and spar, but not a second too soon. The squall drove down on her with tremendous force, and had the painter snapped nothing could have saved the gipsy lass from a watery grave. But that painter held, and next moment she was crouching in comparative safety between the bows of the _Jenny Wren_.

There was driving scud and spray, almost whole water at times, and a constant lifting of the after-part of the boat, which seemed to flog the seas with a noise that made Lotty think the timbers were snapping. But as the tiny yacht filled up with water till she was nearly swamped both this movement and the noise became less apparent. Lotty had no intention, however, of letting the _Jenny Wren_ get wholly swamped, so as soon as the first force of the squall had abated a little she set herself to bail the boat. The bailer was semi-shallow and a very useful one. It was lashed so that there could be no danger of losing it.

Both water and wind now were bitterly cold, and the work of bailing put some life in the girl. She did not mind that she was drenched as far as feet and legs went, for she was well used to that, and her body was well protected by a smart oilskin, her head by a natty little sou'-wester tied with a ribbon firmly under her chin. It was the girl's pride to have everything on board the _Jenny Wren_ ship-shape and Bristol fashion. Attached to a girdle round her waist she had even a small compass, and in a waterproof bag lashed under a thwart was a strong electric flashlight. In this bag also were stored provisions and a bottle of milk, to say nothing of a bagful of hazel-nuts and a box of chocolate which Chops had bought her when last at the neighbouring town.

She was thankful that she had not brought Wallace, for he might have got excited and swamped the boat.

It was now very dark, and every now and then the squall came down with merciless force upon her, so that, with the chance of the painter snapping when extra strain was on it, or the lashed spars being driven down upon the bows and staving them in, Lotty's position was that of exceeding great peril. In the midst of it all, however, she felt hungry, and presently crept farther aft; and, in spite of the intense darkness that now reigned, managed to open the bag and secure her supper. At the same time she took out her flashlight and hung this by its ring on to her girdle. She had a long draught of milk and returned the bottle, then--with a portion of food, a few nuts, and all the chocolates--she got forward again and resumed her place under the bows.

Her supper revived her spirits and courage, although as yet she had not taken into consideration the chances of her being able to ride out the storm to leeward of her bundle of oars and spars. It was well for her she did not think much, for she was entirely at the mercy of the wind and the waves, and drifting nor'ard and east into one of the wildest seas anywhere around our coasts. More than a sea was this; it was part of the great Atlantic Ocean, that extended in one unbroken line or expanse till it reached the Arctic and thundered upon the wintry bergs of the sea of ice itself. But, more betoken, the farther away the boat drifted from the shore, the higher became the waves, the less the poor wee gipsy lass's chance of keeping above the stormy waves.