The Rover Boys in Southern Waters: or, The Deserted Steam Yacht

CHAPTER IV
HAROLD BIRD'S STRANGE TALE

Early in the morning the Rovers and their friends were ready to take their departure. Dick came down in the garden at sunrise, and was soon joined by Dora, and they took a short walk together.

"Oh, Dick, you must keep out of danger," said Dora. "Promise me you will be careful!"

"I will be careful, Dora," he answered, as he looked down into the depths of her clear eyes. "I will be careful – for your sake," he added, in almost a whisper.

"If something sh – should happen to you!" she faltered.

"I'll take care of myself, don't fear, Dora," he made reply, and then, as they were all alone he drew her up to him. "Dora, may I?" he asked, softly and tenderly.

She did not answer, but looked up at him, innocently and confidingly.

He bent over and kissed her, and gave her hand a little squeeze.

"We understand each other, don't we, Dora?" he whispered.

"Of course we do," she whispered in return.

"And some day you'll be Mrs. Dick Rover?"

"Oh, Dick!"

"But you will be, won't you?"

"I – I – suppose – Oh!" And then Dora broke from Dick's hold, as Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller appeared, around a bend of the pathway.

"Breakfast is waiting!" sang out Fred. "Hurry up, if we are to start that search."

"All right," answered Dick. – "We'll be in right away."

"See, I vos bick me a peautiful roses," put in Hans Mueller, coming closer. "Dick, of you ton't peen – vot you call him? – jealousness, yah, I gif him to Dora," and he passed over the flower.

"Oh, thank you, Hans," replied Dora, and she placed the flower in her hair. Then she gave Dick a look that meant a good deal, and they understood each other perfectly, and both went in to breakfast feeling very happy.

In the meantime Sam and Tom had been out on a side veranda with Grace and Nellie. Tom was as full of fun as ever and kept the two girls in a roar of laughter. Yet both girls grew serious when the time for parting came.

"You look out for yourself," said Grace. "Remember, those men are bad characters to meet."

"Yes, I shouldn't want you to get hurt for the world," added Nellie, and when she shook hands with Tom there was something like a tear in her eye.

Then came good-byes all around, and the carriage that was to take Dick and the others to the town drove around to the door. The party climbed in and in a moment more were off, the girls and ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the boys swinging their caps and hats.

"Yo' boys dun take good care ob yo'selves," said Aleck, who stood by, with a look of concern on his ebony face. "If yo' come back killed dis coon will neber fo'give himself!"

"Come back as soon as you can!" called out Dora.

"Don't worry – we may be back in a day or two," answered Dick. But it was destined to be many a long day ere the two parties should meet again.

Down at the riverside they found the launch in charge of a negro and all ready for the start. The provisions were stored in two lockers on board, and another locker held their firearms and some raincoats.

"Hurrah! Here is news," cried Dick, after perusing a telegram that had been handed to him. "You'll remember I telegraphed to Benton, the town below here. Well, here is word that the houseboat was seen passing Benton yesterday at about five o'clock, and headed towards the west shore. That ought to give us something to work on.

"It will," answered Harold Bird. "Come, the sooner we get started the better."

All stepped aboard of the Venus, as the launch was named, and soon the gasoline motor was buzzing away at a good rate of speed. Then the power was turned on the screw, Harold Bird took his station at the wheel, and away they sped from the landing and out onto the broad Mississippi.

"Hurrah for a life on der oceans vafe und a ship on der rollings deeps!" sang out Hans, who sat near the bow.

"Gosh, Hans is getting poetic!" said Tom. "That's right, Hansy, my boy, keep it up and you'll soon put Songbird out of business."

"What I want to know is," came from Fred, "if we strike a sunken snag is this launch safe?"

"As safe as any craft of her size," answered Harold Bird. "But I shan't strike a snag if I can help it. I am not running at full speed, and if you'll notice I am keeping where the water is fairly clear."

"Which isn't saying a great deal," came from Sam. "I never saw a river as muddy as the Mississippi."

"I know one other stream that is worse, and that's the Missouri," said Harold Bird. "And as that flows into the Mississippi it makes the latter almost as bad."

As soon as they were well on their way Dick brought out the firearms which had been brought along, and examined them with care.

"You certainly have some fine weapons," said he, referring to the pistols brought by Harold Bird. "Do you do much shooting – I mean with a gun?"

"I never go shooting at all," was the young Southerner's reply, and once again the boys saw that strange look of sadness come over his face.

"Funny, you wouldn't care to go out," said Songbird, carelessly.

"Must be quite some game around here."

"There is plenty of game, but – " Harold Bird heaved a deep sigh. "I presume I may as well tell you my story, for you are bound to hear it sooner or later," he went on. "About four years ago my father went out hunting in the forest to the north of our plantation. He was out with two friends, but about the middle of the day the party separated and my father found himself alone. Then he saw something that to him looked like a wildcat on a big rock. He fired quickly, and when he drew closer he saw to his horror that he had shot and killed a man – an old hunter named Blazen.

"The shock of the discovery made my father faint, and when the others came up they found him working over the dead body of Blazen in a vain endeavor to bring the hunter back to life. A doctor was called, but nothing could be done for Blazen, for the shot had killed him instantly, taking him squarely in the heart. Of course it was an accident, but my father couldn't get over it. He raved and wept by turns, and at last the doctors had to place him in confinement for fear that he would try to do himself some injury. My mother was prostrated by the news, and you can imagine how I felt myself."

"It was certainly terrible," said Dick, and the others nodded in silence.

"Blazen was an old bachelor, with no relatives, so there were few to mourn over his death. We saw to it that he was given a decent burial and advertised for his heirs, but nobody appeared. In the meantime my father grew melancholy and the doctors thought he might become insane. They advised a trip to new scenes, and my mother and I took him to Europe and then to Kingston, Jamaica, where an old friend of the family had a plantation. One day my father disappeared."

"Disappeared?" echoed Sam and Tom.

"Yes, disappeared utterly and forever. We hunted high and low for him and offered a big reward for any information. It was useless. We have never seen him or heard a word of him since."

"And what do you think became of him?" questioned Songbird Powell.

"I cannot imagine, excepting that he may have thrown himself into the bay and drowned himself. He had a habit of going down to the water and gazing out to sea by the hour."

"Too bad!" murmured Dick. "Mr. Bird, I sympathize deeply with you."

"And so do I," came from the other boys.

"The disappearance of my father made my mother ill and it was all I could do to get her back home. There we procured the best of medical skill, but it did little good. She had always had heart trouble and this grew rapidly worse until she died, leaving me utterly alone in the world."

Harold Bird stopped speaking and wiped the tears from his eyes. All of his listeners were deeply affected. It was several seconds before anybody spoke.

"I don't wonder you don't care to go hunting," said Sam. "I'd feel the same way."

"I have never visited the forest since the time the tragedy took place," answered Harold Bird. "At first I thought to sell off the stretch of land to a lumber company, but now I have changed my mind, and I intend to give it to the heirs of Blazen, if any appear."

"Is it a valuable tract?" asked Fred.

"The lumber company offered me twenty thousand dollars for it."

"If your father was drowned it is queer that you never heard anything of his body," said Fred.

"Bodies of drowned people are not always recovered," answered the young Southerner. "But he must have been drowned, for if he had been alive we surely would have heard something of him. The reward we offered set hundreds of people to hunting for him."

"It is certainly a mystery," said Dick. "I suppose you'd give a good deal to have it cleared up.

"I'd give half of what I am worth," answered Harold Bird, earnestly.

CHAPTER V
STUCK IN THE MUD

Noon found our friends at the town of Benton – a place of some importance in the cotton trade. Without delay Dick sought out the man who had had to do with the telegrams.

"I can't tell you much more than what I put in the message," said the man. "I saw the houseboat out yonder and headed in that direction. I was watching her when a fog came up and hid her from view."

"I think I can follow her," put in Harold Bird. "Anyway, we can try."

"Did those fellows steal the houseboat?" questioned the Benton man.

"They did."

"Then I hope you catch them."

Our friends did not stop to get dinner, but took their lunch on board of the Venus. The river at Benton was broad and deep and consequently Harold Bird turned on full speed, sending the launch forward with such a rush that the water often came in a shower of spray over the bow.

"I may be mistaken, but I have an idea that those rascals headed for Lake Sico," said the young Southerner. "Gasper Pold used to hang around that lake, and most likely there are men there who would aid him in disposing of whatever is on the Dora of value."

"Where is Lake Sico?" asked Sam.

"About fifteen miles from here. It is a very broad and shallow sheet of water, and is reached by a narrow and tortuous bayou all of four miles long. One end of the lake is a perfect wilderness of bushes and brake – an ideal hiding-place for the houseboat."

"Then perhaps we had better explore the lake," said Tom.

"There is only one objection," answered Dick. "If the houseboat is not there, we'll be losing a lot of valuable time."

"Is the entrance to the bayou very narrow?" asked Tom. "For if it is, the houseboat would be apt to strike the mud shore and leave marks."

"Yes, it is narrow, and we'll look for marks by all means," answered the young Southerner.

As they were moving with the stream it did not take the launch long to reach the bayou that connected the lake with the Mississippi. But close to the bayou entrance the swirling waters had cast up a ridge or bar of mud and on this the launch slid and stuck fast.

"Hullo, we're stuck!" cried Tom.

"And we are up out of the water too," came from his younger brother.

"Can't we back?" asked Fred.

"I'll try it," returned Harold Bird.

The screw of the launch was reversible and he made the change in power. The water was churned up into a muddy foam, but that was all. The Venus did not budge an inch.

"One of the joys of a life 'on der rollings deeps'!" grumbled Tom, imitating Hans. "Songbird, can't you compose an ode in honor of the occasion?"

"Certainly I can," said Songbird promptly, and started:

 
"As firm as a rock, our launch now rests
Upon her bed of mud,
As safe as a ship on a golden sea – "
 

"Or a clothespin in a tub!" finished Tom. "Songbird, give us something better, or none at all."

"Say, vot has a clothesbin in a dub to do mit being stuck here alretty?" questioned Hans, innocently.

"Why, Hansy, old boy, that's easy," cried Tom. "A clothespin is for sticking something fast, and we are stuck fast. Now, can't you see the joke, as the blind astronomer said to the deaf musician?"

"Yah, dot's so, but ve ain't stuck on no clothes-pins," answered Hans, soberly. "Ve vos stuck on der Mississippies Rifer, ain't it."

"Score one for Hans," came, with a laugh, from Sam. "Hans, what do you think we ought to do?"

"Dake a rope py der shore und bull der poat loose."

"That's the talk," said Songbird. "Hans can carry the rope ashore.

The water is only a foot deep."

"And the mud is about sixteen feet deep," put in Dick, quickly. "Don't try it, unless you want to sink out of sight."

For several minutes all sat still in the launch, viewing the situation with considerable dismay.

"This is something I didn't bargain for," said Fred. "But we may as well make the best of it."

"Let us try to shove her off," suggested Dick.

On board the launch were three poles of good size, each fixed so that a small, square board could be fastened to one end. Dick took one of these poles and Tom and Sam seized the others.

"Now, Hans, Fred, and Songbird, get in the stern," said Dick.

"That's the talk, and I'll try to back her at the same time!" cried Harold Bird. "All ready?"

In a minute they were ready to try the experiment and the power was turned on. As the screw churned the water and mud once more, the three Rovers pushed on the poles with all their might.

"Hurrah! she's moving!" cried Fred.

He was right, the Venus was slowly but surely leaving the bank of mud. Suddenly she gave a twist and then ran backwards rapidly, and then the power was shut off again.

"Free at last!" cried Tom. "Now what's the next move?"

"We must find the proper channel into the bayou," answered the owner of the launch.

Dick and Tom went to the front with their poles and the power was turned to a slow speed forward. The Rovers felt their way in the water with the poles, calling to turn to the right or the left, as the case required. By this means they soon left the treacherous mud bars behind and reached a point where forward progress was more certain.

"Now then, let us look around and see if we can find any traces of the Dora," said Dick.

"The houseboat couldn't have come over that spot – she would have been stuck sure," said Fred.

"Years ago Solly Jackson used to be a riverman," said Harold Bird. "He would probably know exactly how to get the houseboat into the bayou. Gasper Pold couldn't run the craft himself, so he had to take in a fellow like Solly."

As the gasoline launch entered the bayou all kept their eyes on the alert, and presently Songbird set up a shout:

"Look over yonder – there are some sort of marks on the bank!"

He was right, and they turned the launch in the direction indicated, advancing slowly. There was a sharp cut in the mud and also several pole holes which looked to be rather fresh. A few feet further on they came to a piece of a pole painted blue.

"That settles it," exclaimed Dick. "They certainly brought the houseboat in here. Our poles were painted blue, and that is a piece of one."

"The very one I cracked in the storm," added Sam.

"I can explain it," said Harold Bird. "They got the houseboat around the mud bars, but the force of the current, combined with the current in the bayou, swung the craft up against this bank. Then they had to pole the houseboat off."

"But how did they go on, against the current from the lake?" asked Songbird.

"Pulled and poled the houseboat. Just wait and see if I am not right."

They waited, and soon reached a point where one bank of the bayou was fairly firm. Here they could see footprints and the "shaving" of a rope as it had passed over the edge of the bank.

"We are on the right track," said Dick. "Now, all we have to do is to locate the houseboat and corner the rascals who stole her."

"All!" cried Fred. "I should say that was enough!"

"Especially if they offer to fight," added Sam.

"It is a pity we can't come on them unawares," said Tom. "But that is impossible, for you can't run the launch without making a noise."

"Maybe you don't besser git out dem bistols alretty," came from Hans.

"Of da ton't gif ub ve plow der heads off, ain't it!"

"Yes, we may as well get out the firearms," said Dick. "The sight of the pistols may have a good effect. Perhaps the rascals will give up without fighting."

The pistols were gotten out, and all of the youths saw to it that they were in perfect condition for immediate use. As he looked at the weapons Harold Bird shuddered.

"I suppose you hate the sight of them, – after what happened to your father," said Dick, in a low tone.

"I do. I sincerely trust there is no bloodshed," answered the young Southerner.

It was nightfall by the time the launch was clear of the bayou. In front of them lay the calm waters of Lake Sico – a shallow expanse, with mud flats at one side and a wilderness of trees, bushes, and wild canebrake at the other. They shut off the power and listened. Not a sound broke the stillness.

"Talk about solitude," was Tom's comment. "Here is where you can chop it out with an ax!"

"It's enough to make one shiver," added Fred.

Just then the dog Harold Bird had brought along set up a mournful howl.

"Even the dog doesn't like it," said Songbird. "Let us go on – I'd rather hear the puff-puff of the gasoline motor than listen to such stillness."

"I thought a poet craved solitude," said Dick. "This ought to fill you with inspiration."

"I think it will fill us with chills and fever," said Fred. "Ugh, how damp it is, now the sun is going down."

"There is a mist creeping up," said Harold Bird. "Too bad! I was in hope it would remain clear."

Soon the darkness of night settled over the lake. The mist continued to roll over them until they were completely enveloped and could no longer see where they were going.

"It can't be helped," said the owner of the launch. "We'll have to wait until daylight. If I light the acetylene gas lamp it will simply put those rascals on guard."

"Vot is ve going to do – sthay on der poat all night?" asked Hans.

"We can either do that or go ashore – just as you wish."

"Let us move towards shore," said Dick. "It will be more pleasant under some overhanging trees or bushes."

This was agreed to, and they steered for the bank of the lake, which was not far away. None of them dreamed of what that night was to bring forth.

CHAPTER VI
FIGHTING BOB CATS

It was certainly a dismal and dreary outlook, and it did not help matters much to run the launch under the wide overhanging boughs of several trees growing at the edge of the lake. They were in something of a cove, so the view was shut off on three sides.

"I wish we had brought along some extra blankets," said Sam. "If it is raw now what will it be by midnight?"

"Hadn't we better build a little campfire?" questioned Fred. "It will make it ever so much more pleasant."

"I do not advise a fire," answered Harold Bird. "If those rascals should see it, they'd come here to investigate, and then try to slip away from us in the darkness."

"You are right," put in Dick. "We must keep dark until we have located them, – otherwise the game will be up."

To protect themselves still more from the mist and cold, they brought out four rubber blankets of good size. These were laced into one big sheet and raised over the launch like an awning. Then all huddled beneath, to make themselves as comfortable as possible.

"Don't you think somebody ought to remain on guard?" asked Tom. "We don't want those fellows to carry us off and us not know it!"

"Da can't vos carry me off dot vay," said Hans, who could never see the funny side of a remark. "I vould kick, I tole you!"

"As there are seven of us, why not have everybody stand guard for just an hour?" suggested Sam. "If we turn in at ten that will carry us through to five in the morning – when we ought to continue our hunt."

"Providing the mist will let us," smiled Harold Bird. "But I think your plan a good one," he added.

Lots were drawn and Fred went on guard first, to be followed by Hans and Tom. At ten o'clock all of the crowd but Fred turned in, to get as much sleep as possible.

"I tole you vot." remarked Hans, as he tried to make his head feel easy on one of the seats. "Dis ton't vos so goot like mine ped at Putnam Hall!"

"Not by a good deal!" answered Songbird. "Dear old Putnam Hall! After all the pleasures we have had, I shall be glad to get back to that institution again."

The Rover boys had been through so much excitement during their lives they did not think the present situation unusual and so all went to sleep without an effort. Harold Bird remained awake nearly an hour, thinking of the new friends he had made and of the strange fate of his father. The young Southerner was of a somewhat retiring disposition, and it astonished even himself when he realized how he had opened his heart to the Rovers and their chums.

"I feel as if I had known them for years, instead of hours," he told himself. "There is a certain attractiveness about Sam, Tom, and Dick I cannot understand. Yet I do not wonder that they have a host of friends who are willing to do almost anything for them."

When Tom went on guard he was still sleepy and he did a large amount of yawning before he could get himself wide-awake. He sat up in the bow of the launch, the others resting on the cushions on the sides and stern. All was as silent as a tomb, and the mist was now so thick that he could not see a distance of six yards in any direction.

"Ugh! what a disagreeable night!" he muttered, as he gave a shiver. "I'd give as much as a toothpick and a bottle of hair-oil if it was morning and the sun was shining."

A quarter of an hour went by – to Tom it seemed ten times as long as that – and then of a sudden the lad heard a movement at the bottom of the launch. The dog Harold Bird had brought along arose, stretched himself, and listened intently.

"What is it, Dandy?" asked Tom, patting the animal on the head. "What do you hear?"

For reply the dog continued to listen. Then the hair on his back began to rise and he set up a short, sharp bark.

"He certainly hears something," reasoned Tom. "Can any of those men be in this vicinity?"

The bow of the launch was close to a sprawling tree branch, and to look beyond the rubber covering, Tom crawled forward and stepped on the branch. The dog followed to the extreme bow of the boat and gave another short, sharp bark.

"He hears something, that is certain," mused the boy. "But what it can be, is a puzzle to me."

Tom tried to pierce the darkness and mist, but it was impossible. He strained his ears, but all he could hear was the occasional dropping of water from one leaf to another over his head.

"Maybe I had better arouse the others," he murmured, for the barking of the dog had apparently not disturbed them. "I am sure the dog wouldn't bark unless there was a reason for it; would you, Dandy?"

Tom looked at the animal and saw the dog had his nose pointed up in the tree next to that which the launch was under. He peered in the direction and gave a start.

Was he mistaken, or had he caught the glare of a pair of shining eyes fastened upon him? Tom was naturally a brave boy, yet a strange shiver took possession of him. The dog now bristled furiously and gave two sharp barks in quick succession.

"Hullo, what's up?" came from Dick, who was awakened.

"I believe there is some wild animal up yonder tree, spotting us," answered Tom. "I think I just caught a glimpse of its eyes."

This announcement caused Dick to rouse up, and taking his pistol he crawled to the bow of the launch and joined his brother on the tree limb. Just then the dog started to bark furiously.

"There he is!" cried Tom, and raised the pistol he had in his pocket. There could be no mistake about those glaring eyes, and taking hasty aim, he fired.

The report of the firearm had not yet died away when there came the wild and unmistakable screech of a wounded bob cat – a wildcat well known in certain portions of our southern states. At the same time the dog began to bark furiously, and everybody on board the launch was aroused.

"What's the matter?"

"Who fired that shot?"

"Vos dose rascals here to fight mit us alretty?"

"It's a bob cat!" cried Dick. "Tom just fired at it!"

"Look out, it's coming down!" yelled Tom, and that instant the bob cat, unable to support itself longer on the tree limb, fell with a snarl on the rubber covering of the launch, carrying it down upon those underneath.

The next few minutes things happened so rapidly that it is almost impossible to describe them. The bob cat rolled over and over, clawing at the rubber cloth and ripping it to shreds. The boys tried to get another shot, but did not dare to fire for fear of hitting each other. But the dog leaped in and caught the bob cat by the back of the neck, and an instant later cat and canine went whirling over the side of the boat into the waters of the lake.

"They are overboard!" cried Sam.

"Make a light, somebody!" yelled Songbird. "It isn't safe in the dark."

The acetylene gas lamp of the launch was ready for use, and striking a match Harold Bird lit it. The sharp rays were turned on the water, and there dog and bob cat could be seen whirling around in a mad struggle for supremacy.

Bang! went Dick's pistol. He had taken quick but accurate aim, and the bob cat was hit in the side. It went under with a yelp, letting go of the dog as it did so. Dandy gave a final nip and then turned and swam back to the launch and was helped aboard by his master.

"Wonder if the bob cat is dead?" asked Fred, in a voice that he tried in vain to steady.

"Hasn't come up again," came laconically from Songbird. He had taken the lamp from Harold Bird and was sending the rays over the surface of the lake in several directions.

They watched for several minutes and then made out the dead form of the bob cat floating among the bushes on the opposite side of the little cove.

"Done for – and I am glad of it," murmured Tom, and he wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead.

"I don't know if we are out of the woods or not," said the owner of the launch. "Where there is one bob cat there are often more."

"In that case I think we had better move the boat away from the shore," answered Dick. "It may not be as comfortable as under the trees but it will be safer."

At that moment the gas lamp began to flicker and die down.

"Here, give the lamp to me," said the launch owner, and taking the lamp he shook it and tried to turn more water on the carbide. But the water would not run for some reason and a few seconds later the light went out.

In the darkness the boys started to untie the launch. As they did this they heard a movement in the tree directly over their heads and then came the cry of a bob cat calling its mate.

"There's another!" yelled Sam. "Say, we had better get out as fast as we can!"

The gasoline launch was just shoved away from the tree limb when the bob cat above made a leap and landed on the bow of the craft! It glared a moment at the boys, its two eyes shining like balls of fire, and then started to make a leap.

Bang! crack! bang! went three pistols in rapid succession, and as the reports died away the bob cat fell in a heap on the bottom of the launch, snarling viciously. Then Dandy, still exhausted from his fight in the water, leaped on the beast and held it down while Tom finished it with a bullet in the ear.

"Is it dead?" asked Songbird, after a painful silence.

"I guess so. Light a match, somebody."

Several matches were lit and then an old oil lantern which chanced to be on board. The bob cat was indeed dead and near it lay the dog, with a deep scratch in its foreshoulder.

"Noble Dandy, you did what you could," said Harold Bird, affectionately.

Very gingerly Tom and Dick picked up the carcass of the bob cat and threw it overboard. By this time the launch had drifted a good fifty feet from shore, and there they anchored.

"Keep that lantern lit," said Fred. "I can't stand the darkness after such doings!"

"If those thieves are around they must have heard the shots," said Sam. "So a light won't make much difference."

"I am going to examine the gas lamp," said the young Southerner, and did so. A bit of dirt had gotten into the feed pipe of the lamp, and when this was cleaned out with a thin wire the light worked as well as ever.

It was some time after the excitement before any of the crowd could get to sleep again. Then Hans got a nightmare and yelled "Bop cats! fire! murder!" and other things as loudly as he could, and that put further rest out of the question, and all waited anxiously for the coming of morning.