CHAPTER XV.
WORTH AND QUORUM IN SEARCH OF SUMNER.
ON the evening that Sumner left Worth and Quorum, and
started on his adventurous voyage towards Indian Key, they watched him
until distance and the approaching twilight hid him from their view.
Quorum was the first to turn away and begin preparations for supper,
while Worth still remained on the point straining his eyes towards the
key, on which he fondly hoped that his friend was safely landed. At
length it, too, disappeared in the gathering darkness, and he
reluctantly turned his steps towards the camp. He was heavy-hearted,
and had but little appetite for the bountiful supper that Quorum had so
skillfully prepared. Noticing this, the old man tried to cheer him,
saying:
"Don't yo' be so down in de mouf, Marse Worf. Dey hain't
no 'casion fur worriment. I know Marse Summer Rankin fur a long time,
an' I nebber know him in a fix yit what he don't slip outen de same as
er eel. I see him git in er plenty scrapes, but I don't see him git
stuck. Him all right, and yo' no need to go er frettin' an' er mo'nin'.
He be back termorrer bright an' smilin'. Now eat your suppah, honey,
'kase if yo' don't, ole Quor'm t'ink he cookin' no good."
In spite of the negro's consoling words, Worth's sleep
that night was broken, and he started at every sound. Towards morning a
crash and a smothered cry from the edge of the forest behind the camp
caused him to start to his feet in alarm, and wake his companion.
Although no further sound was heard, the boy was not satisfied until
Quorum, taking a torch, discovered a thieving 'coon, caught and killed
by the deadfall that he had prepared for it. This was a simple figure 4
trap, set under a bit of hoard that was weighted with a heavy rock.
As soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Worth
returned to his outlook station on the point, and remained there, with
his eyes fixed on Indian Key, for several hours. It was nearly noon
when he was startled by a shout from Quorum, who called out:
"Here him comin', honey! Here him comin' in er big
schooner!"
Running back to the cove, which was not visible from where
he had been sitting, Worth saw the schooner at which, Quorum was gazing
so eagerly. She was not more than a mile from them, and was bearing
rapidly down towards the island, though from a direction opposite to
that in which Indian Key lay. Still that did not dispel their hope that
Sumner might be on board and coming to their relief. They could see
that the schooner's deck was crowded with men, most of whom, as she
approached more closely, proved to be Negroes. Among them Worth's keen
eyes distinguished, besides the whites composing her crew, one young
white man who for a few minutes he was certain must be Sumner. As the
schooner dropped anchor, and this person was sculled ashore in a small
boat by one of the Negroes, they saw, to their great disappointment,
that he was a stranger.
He seemed surprised at seeing them on the key, and still
more so when a glance at their camp showed the,use they had been making
of the stores they had so unexpectedly found there two days before.
"Oh, sir," exclaimed Worth, as the stranger landed, "have
you seen anything of Sumner Rankin? I mean of a boy on a raft?"
"No, I have not," was the answer. "But I see that some
one, and I expect it is the boy before me, has been making a free use
of my stores."
"Are they yours?" asked Worth, flushing. "We didn't know
whose they were or who left them here, and as we were almost starving,
we ventured to take what we needed; but I shall be glad to pay for
whatever we have used." With this the boy produced a roll of bills, and
looked inquiringly at the stranger.
"That's all right," laughed the other. "If you were
starving, and had need of them, of course you acted rightly in taking
them. I am only too glad that they were of use to you. I see, too, that
you have sheltered them from the weather."
"Yes," replied Worth, "and it rained so hard night before
last, that if they had not been under cover some of them would have
been spoiled."
"Then we are quits," said the stranger; "and you have
already more than paid for what you can have used in so short a time. I
have bought this key, and intended to get here as soon as those things,
which I sent up on the mail boat, hut was unexpectedly delayed. My name
is Haines, and yours is --"
"Worth Manton," answered the boy; "and I was cruising up
the reef in a canoe with my friend Sumner Rankin. When we got here,
some one stole our canoes, or they got lost in some way', and so we
were obliged to stay. We found this old Negro Quorum here. Yesterday
Sumner went over to Indian Key on a raft, to see if he could find the
canoes, or get a vessel to take us off. We haven't seen anything of him
since he left, and I am awfully afraid that something has happened to
him."
"Oh, I guess not!" said the newcomer; "but if you like you
can go over there on this schooner and look for him. The captain is in
a great hurry to go on up the reef, as he is already two days late; but
I guess he will drop you at the key, and stop there for you on his way
back to Key West, if you want him to. But what is it that smells so
good?" Here the speaker sniffed at an appetizing odor that was wafted
to them from the direction of the little camp.
"I expect it is Quorum's 'coon that he is roasting for
dinner," replied Worth.
"'Coon? That is something I have never tasted; but I
should be most happy to experiment with it if it is half as good as it
smells. Don't you want to invite me to dine with you?"
"Of course I do," laughed Worth; "especially as most of
the dinner will consist of your own provisions."
A few minutes later they sat down to dinner together, and
Mr. Haines declared it to be the best he had eaten since coming to that
part of the country. He also praised the construction of the hut in
which they ate, and thanked Worth for having provided him with such
comfortable quarters.
While they were occupied with the meal, the black
passengers of the schooner landed. Among them Quorum discovered friends
who confirmed Sumner's statement that he was no longer suspected of the
death of the sponging captain.
After dinner several hours were spent in landing the
lumber and other freight with which the schooner was loaded. During
this time Mr. Haines learned all the details of Worth's experience in
canoeing up the reef, to which he listened with the greatest interest.
He advised the boy to remain patiently where he was until Sumner's
return ,, or at least until some word should be received from him. He
was also anxious to engage the services of such a capital cook as
Quorum had proved himself by the preparation of the dinner they had
just eaten.
But the boy was so heartsick with anxiety that he could
not bear the thought of a further period of inaction, and Quorum
declared he could not think of deserting the lad whom Sumner had left
in his care.
So when the schooner was again ready to sail, they went on
board, taking with them their guns and a supply of provisions with
which Mr. Haines kindly provided them. He also insisted upon their
taking a couple of blankets, which, he said, they could return whenever
they had no further use for them, and he begged them to come back to
the island in case they should be disappointed in their search. Thus
they parted with an interchange of good wishes, and an hour later Worth
and Quorum were set ashore on Indian Key. Although they had seen no
sign of Sumner as they approached it, and the captain of the schooner
had advised them to keep on with him up the reef, they could not make
up their minds to do so until they had made a thorough examination of
the key for traces of their lost comrade. Nor were they inclined to
leave those parts so long as there was the faintest hope of hearing
from him. So they were hurriedly set ashore, and the schooner continued
on her way, the captain promising to stop there for them on his return
trip.
Of course their search over the key was fruitless, and it
was with heavy hearts that they made themselves comfortable for the
night in one of its old buildings.
The next morning they wandered aimlessly over the narrow
limits of the little island, or sat in the rickety porch of their house
watching the column of smoke that, rising above Lignum Vitae, marked
the beginning of the cocoa nut planter's operations. Turning from this,
they would gaze longingly out to sea without knowing what they hoped to
discover. Several schooners, bound both up and down the reef, passed
during the morning, but none of them came within hailing distance of
the key. At length Worth called out excitedly that he saw a canoe
approaching from the direction of Alligator Light. At that distance the
sail that he was watching certainly looked small enough to belong to a
canoe; but as it came closer it grew larger, until it resolved itself
into that of a goodsized catboat.
As' it finally rounded to and came to anchor under the lee
of the key, a man who was its sole occupant sculled ashore in a dingy
containing several empty barrels. He was Assistant Keeper Albury, of
Alligator Light, who had come to the key for a supply of water from its
old cistern, the one belonging to the light having sprung a leak, and
being nearly empty. He was surprised to find strangers on the key, and
inquired at once what had become of their boat. After listening to
their story and eager questions, he said:
"Well, if that doesn't beat all! No, we haven't seen
anything out at the light of any young fellow floating on a raft: but
we have got two canoes out there that answer pretty well the
description of them you say you lost. What did you say their names
were?"
"Cupid and Psyche," replied Worth.
"Then they are yours, for them's the very names. If you
want to go out there with me after I fill my barrels, I've no doubt Mr.
Spencer will give them up to you."
This they decided to do. So, after helping the man fill
his water barrels, they set sail with him for the lighthouse, which
they reached late that afternoon, after some hours of tedious drifting
in a calm.
CHAPTER
XVI.
A NIGHT IN ALLIGATOR LIGHT.
WHILE taking Worth and Quorum out to the light, Assistant
Keeper Al bury told them how the canoes had been towed out to sea by a
Jew-fish, and described the difficulty he had had in capturing them.
Although Worth listened to all this with interest, his pleasure in
having the mystery cleared up, and at the prospect of recovering the
canoes, was sadly dampened by his increasing anxiety concerning
Sumner's fate. What can have become of him? was the question that he
asked over and over again, but to which neither of the men could give
an answer.
They were cordially welcomed to the light by the keeper,
who was always glad to have visitors to his lonely domain, and Worth
easily proved his ownership of the canoes by describing their contents.
The lighthouse was a skeleton framework of iron, with its
lower platform about twelve feet above water that surrounded it on all
sides. On this platform lay the two canoes, side by side, looking as
fresh and unharmed as when Worth had last seen them at anchor off
Lignum Vitae. If Sumner had only been there, how he would have rejoiced
over them! As it was, he gave them but a hurried examination to assure
himself that they were all right, and then followed the keeper up the
flight of iron steps leading to the house. The portion of this in which
the men lived was a huge iron cylinder, surrounded by a balcony, and
divided into several rooms. Above it rose a slender iron shaft, in
which was a circular stairway leading to the lantern at its top. Worth
ascended this with the keeper to witness the lighting of the great
lamp, and the movements of the revolving machinery by which the red and
white flashes were produced.
From this elevation a long line of keys was visible, while
the one they had so recently left seemed quite close at hand. While
gazing at it, Worth saw a schooner come down the channel from the
direction of Lignum Vitae, and lower her sails, as if for the night,
under its lee.
"Oh, Mr. Spencer!" he cried, "there's a schooner come to
anchor close to Indian Key. Perhaps her people are looking for us, and
perhaps they have brought news of Sumner. Can't we take the canoes now
and sail over there?"
"Bless you, no, lad! I wouldn't for anything have it on my
conscience that I'd let you go sailing around these waters at night in
those cockleshells. There's no doubt but what she'll stay there till
morning, and if the weather is good, you can make a start as soon after
daylight as ever you like; but you'll have to content yourself here
till then. I couldn't think of letting you go before."
To this decision Worth was forced to submit, and after the
lamp was lighted he followed the keeper to the living rooms below. Here
he found Quorum hard at work at his favorite occupation of cooking. He
was preparing a most savory fish chowder, and when they sat down to
supper both the keepers declared that in all their experience they had
never tasted its equal. The second assistant keeper was then absent on
the two-weeks' vacation, to which each of them was entitled after two
months of service in the light. They only regretted that Quorum could
not remain until his return, that he too might learn the possibilities
of a fish chowder.
Worth was so charmed with his novel surroundings, and by
the quaint bits of lighthouse experience related by the keepers, that
until bedtime, he almost forgot his anxiety. When he bad gone to bed in
the scrupulously neat and clean guest chamber, after charging the
keepers to waken him at the earliest dawn, it returned in full force,
and for a long time drove sleep from his eyes. As he lay listening to
the keeper on watch making his half-hourly trips up to the lantern, and
to the lapping of the waves about the iron piling of the foundation, he
imagined all sorts of dreadful things as having happened to Sumner, and
even after he fell asleep his. dreams were of the same character.
From this unhappy dreaming he was awakened while it was
still quite dark, though the keeper, who was standing beside his bed,
assured him that day was breaking. At this, and remembering his cause
for haste, the boy sprang out of bed and quickly dressed himself. In
the outer room he found Quorum already up and waiting for him, and he
also found a steaming pot of coffee. Fortified by a cup of this and a
biscuit, he declared himself ready for the voyage back to Indian Key.
As they stepped outside, the light was sufficiently strong
for them to dimly discern the distant line of keys, and preparations
were at once made to place the canoes in the water. Worth's was the
first swung from the platform davits and lowered, while he, descending
a rope ladder, one end of which touched the water, was ready to cast
off the falls and step into her. Then Quorum was invited to do the same
thing with the Psyche; but the old Negro drew back
apprehensively, exclaiming:
"No, sah, gen'l'men. De ole niggah am a big fool, but him
no sich fool dat him t'ink hese'f er monkey, an' go climbin' down er
rope wha' don' lead nowhar, 'cep' to er tickly eggshell wha' done
copsize de berry instink he tetch foot to um. No, sah, gen'l'men; ole
Quor'm too smart fo' dat."
"Well, then, sit in the canoe where she is, and we'll
lower you down in her."
To this plan the old man was finally induced to agree, and
with great trepidation seated himself in the frail craft. The moment
the men began to sway away on the falls, he would have jumped out if he
could. As he was already swinging in mid-air, it was too late to do
aught save remain where he was. Clutching the sides of the cockpit
tightly with both hands, he closed up his eyes and resigned himself to
his fate. His face assumed an ashen tinge, and his lips moved as though
he were praying. He gave a convulsive start as the canoe dropped into
the water, but he did not open his eyes nor relax his clutch of the
coamings.
"Come, Quorum, get out your paddle. I'll show you how to
use it," shouted Worth, after he had cast off the falls.
But he might as well have addressed the lighthouse for all
the notice the old man took of him. Finally, realizing that Quorum was
utterly helpless, and incapable of action, from fright, Worth took the Psyche
in tow, and paddling out from the lighthouse, bade the friendly keepers
a cheery goodbye, and started on his laborious trip to Indian Key.
Although the sea was perfectly smooth, paddling two deeply
laden canoes proved heavy work for one person, and Worth would have
doubtless become exhausted long before reaching his destination had not
a light breeze sprung up at sunrise. Aided by this, he made such good
progress that in less than an hour he was rounding the point of Indian
Key, behind which the Transit lay at anchor.
Sumner, who had just turned out, was gazing wistfully back
at Lignum Vitae, as though it still held the young comrade whose loss
caused him to feel so depressed, when he started as though he had been
shot, at the sound of his own name, uttered with a joyous shout but a
short distance from him.
He could hardly credit his senses, or believe that he saw,
sailing merrily towards him, the long-lost canoes, bearing the very
friends on whose account he had been so anxious but a moment before. At
the same time Worth was equally bewildered and overcome with joyful
emotions.
QUORUM RESIGNS HIMSELF TO FATE.
"Hurrah! Glory hallelujah!" shouted Sumner, in the fulness
of rejoicing.
At this sound Quorum 'started as though from a trance, and
opened his eyes for the first time since leaving the light. Whether he
tumbled out of the canoe accidentally or on purpose, no one, not even
himself, ever found out; but the next instant he was in the water,
puffing like a porpoise, and swimming towards the land. Fortunately the
distance was short, so that in a few minutes he reached the rocks and
pulled himself out on them. There, scrambling to his feet, and with the
water pouring from him, he shook his fist at the craft he had so
unceremoniously deserted, exclaiming:
"Dat's de fustes an' de lastes time ole Quor'm ebber go
sailin' in er baby cradle! Yes, sah, de fustes an, de lastes!"
..
© 2001 Craig O'Donnell, editor & general factotum.
May not be reproduced without my permission.
Go scan your own damn
stuff.
