Chapter XIII: Taking a Bee-Line for Camp

Frank and Will were not apt soon to forget that night. They were compelled to remain under the shelf of rock, because outside everything was soaking wet; and besides, the night wind blew unusually cold for that time of year. Without a fire to cheer them it would have been unbearable to try to stay in the open.

Of course the rocks proved very hard. Every little while the boys would change their positions in the endeavor to relieve their aching limbs. Many times did Will find himself sighing for his blanket, which had never seemed half so precious as now, when it was far away.

Frank managed to divide the piece of hard dried beef with his knife, and give the larger portion to Will, who, of course, knew nothing of the sacrifice. They munched away from time to time, taking minute bites, and grinding the tough meat between their teeth as long as possible before swallowing it.

This served in some measure to keep their thoughts away from their unhappy condition, which was one object Frank had in mind.

At times they talked of the two comrades who had gone off, aboard the boat, bent on reaching the far distant village on the lake shore. Will worried about them. Frank professed to have the utmost confidence in the ability of the chums to look after themselves.

"Stop and figure it all out, Will," he told the other. "If they made as good time as we expected, they must have reached the village long before noon came. In fact, we felt pretty sure they were in port at the time we ate our own lunch in camp."

"Yes, that's what we agreed," admitted the other, briskly.

"Well, let's try to guess what they'd be apt to do," continued Frank.

"I know what Jerry would have in his mind first of all, if it happened to be anywhere around noon," said Will. "Jerry never forgets when it's meal time; and the chances are ten to one he'd try to make sure they were going to get dinner somewhere."

"All right," agreed Frank; "that might bring them to nearly one o'clock. Afterward they'd want to get a hustle on them trying to gather up a supply of butter and fresh eggs, according to their orders. Now if they had to go outside the place to get the supplies it would be long after two before they'd be in shape even to think of starting back to camp."

"I see what you're hitting at, Frank; you mean they'd likely enough notice how the inky black clouds were moving up in the sky about that time, because being so close to the big lake they could see all this; while the woods hid it from us."

"Just so," Frank continued, his one desire being to convince the anxious chum that Bluff and Jerry could be in no real peril. "And the people of the village, you see, would urge them to hold over, telling them it was too risky to try to row an old leaky boat all those miles with such a storm coming up."

"Then you believe they are still there in the village, do you, Frank?"

"I really and truly do," came the steady answer; "and, even at the worst, if the boys were foolish enough to make the start you can depend on it they'd hurry to get ashore long before the storm broke."

"Well," concluded Will, "nothing could have tempted me to stay out on the lake a minute, once that thunder started to crash, and I knew the wind must soon come tearing along. I guess Jerry wouldn't take too many chances, even if Bluff wanted to keep rowing on."

"Another thing you've got reason to be satisfied about is your camera," suggested Frank, knowing what store his comrade set by his treasured instrument.

"Yes, for it hasn't been wet even a little bit!" Will declared. "I've always been pretty lucky that way. In fact the only streak of misfortune that ever struck me was the loss of those Maine films. I even dream about them, Frank; and I certainly do hope that Gilbert brings them back, if he comes this way."

"He may turn up any time now," Frank assured him. "The golf tournament must have been played before this, and if Gilbert lives around this part of the country you'll see him coming after those golf balls of his. They look extra fine to me."

"And my films would be worth next door to nothing to him; just as I look on his silly old golf balls. Queer how one man's food is another man's poison, isn't it?"

A dozen times Frank had to scratch a match at the request of his mate in order to take a glance at his watch. The time seemed actually to drag along.

"I've read about the minutes passing on leaden wings," said Will, with a long-drawn sigh, "but now I know just what that means. Eleven o'clock you said, didn't you, Frank? That means six more to bring us to five in the morning; and I suppose we couldn't think of making a start any earlier than that."

"As soon as it's broad daylight we'll get a move on us," promised the other. "We only want to make sure we can see how to avoid pitfalls and fallen trees."

"How far are we from camp, do you reckon, Frank?"

Will asked this last question rather drowsily; for in spite of his pains he was beginning to get sleepy.

"Only a few miles as the crow flies," he was assured.

"Of course you've got the direction down all--er, what you call it, pat, I suppose?"

Frank told him he felt sure he could take a bee-line for camp; and a minute afterwards, there being no further questions, only the regular breathing of a tired lad, he knew that Will had dropped off.

Neither of them managed to secure any great amount of sleep. Their hard resting-place prevented such a thing. After a nap of possibly half an hour Frank would awaken to find one of his legs numb under him, while his muscles fairly ached with the severe strain to which they were quite unaccustomed.

Twice both boys felt so numb with the cold that acting on Frank's advice they crawled out from under the sheltering rock, and for a short time went through with exercises devised to send the blood leaping through their veins.

It was by all odds the longest night either of the lads had ever experienced, in so far as their feelings were concerned. Twice the eager and impatient Will gave a false alarm, under the impression that he had glimpsed the dawn stealing in upon them. The first time Frank showed him by his watch how impossible this was, for it had hardly reached two o'clock.

But all things must come to an end, bad as well as good; and finally Frank himself detected the coming of dawn. It was not by sight that he knew this but through the twittering of birds in neighboring trees, where the poor things had hidden to escape the terrible storm.

"I guess that's meant for a tune of thanksgiving and praise on account of having escaped death in all that wind and rain," Frank told himself as he listened to the faint songs taking form around him.

He did not awaken his chum, because there was no need. They could not start at once, and the boy needed what sleep he could get after such a wretched night.

It was broad day when Will awoke.

"Why! what's this, Frank?" he exclaimed, reproachfully, "how could you let me waste time sleeping when we might have been on our way?"

"Oh! no hurry," he was told; "and you seemed to be getting forty winks after such a tough night. But now that you've waked up, let's crawl out of here."

Neither of them felt any sorrow at leaving their hard beds, though that did not mean they could ever be anything but grateful for the welcome shelter of that nook under the rocky shelf.

Frank had no hesitancy about pointing toward the quarter where he believed the camp must lie.

"We'll take our bearings, Will, and then head straight. In the course of two hours at the most we ought to strike the lake, and close to Cabin Point in the bargain."

"Before we leave here," remarked Will, the old instinct still gripping him, "I'd like to get a snapshot of that bully ledge, now that the sun is peeping up, and shines full on the place."

"A good idea," Frank told him; "we'll often smile when we look at it, and remember our rough experience. I think every time I happen to munch a bit of jerked or dried beef my thoughts will go back to this adventure."

"Yes," added the other, with a chuckle, "and with me, every time anybody mentions dried beef you'll see me begin to rub my poor bones where they ache right now as if my joints were so many boils."

They had not gone far before they began to notice many signs that told of the fury of the wind during the storm. Trees had been toppled completely over or else lay up against some neighboring trunk in a helpless condition, "much like drunken men," Will declared.

Will discovered a number of remarkable sights that appealed to his artistic instinct, so that Frank had to wait until he had focussed his camera and then pressed the button. Those pictures would always remind them of their lively experiences when on the way back to camp after the second visit to Aaron Dennison's place.

When about an hour had passed Will began to show signs of fresh anxiety, but he was confidently assured by his chum that everything was all right.

"The lake is straight ahead of us, you can depend on that," was what the pilot told him; "and pretty soon I think I can prove it to you, since seeing is believing."

"How is that?" asked Will, his curiosity aroused at once, as Frank intended it should be.

"We're coming to a little hill," was the explanation, "and unless the trees are too dense to hide our view I figure we ought to see the big water from the crown; anyway we'll take the trouble to climb up and find out."

Frank was right, for upon arriving at the top of the elevation they managed to find one avenue among the treetops through which they could glimpse the glistening waters of the sun-kissed lake.

After that Will complained no longer, having the utmost confidence in the ability of his companion to guide the expedition into a safe harbor.

Before the second hour had fully elapsed they realized that the shore was close by. Will declared he could even hear the lapping of the waves on the pebbly strand.

"We might have made it in much less time, you understand," said Frank, "if it had not been for the fallen trees we had to go around; and then there was the ravine we skirted a long way before meeting with a place where we could cross."

"But it's all right in the end, Frank; and let me tell you I'm thankful we came through the business as well as we did. Now the only thing to bother us is the fate of the other fellows."

"Oh! they're all right, you can depend on it," said Frank.

"But I don't hear any chopping or talking, and we must be close enough to the cabin to get that, you know," speculated Will.

"Which proves my theory was sound, and that they had to stay all night in the village. You can depend on it, Will, they fared better than we did, because the chances are they slept on feather beds, and had all they wanted to eat."

"Oh, good, now we can cook something! I'm about as near empty as I want to be, and feel able to make way with the biggest beefsteak going. There, I can see the cabin, Frank! I'm glad to find out the storm didn't pick it up bodily and carry it into the lake, as I sometimes thought it might have done."

Both of them hurried their steps a little, for the thought of a warm and tasty breakfast certainly appealed to them as seldom before. Consequently they soon reached the cabin on the Point, which they now called their camp home.