Chapter XXXI: With Wind and Waves

In the light breeze the bateau sailed but slowly, and the boys, in their impatience, strove to increase speed by helping with the paddles. As they went farther out, however, the wind increased, and before long they laid aside the blades, satisfied that they were making fairly good progress.

Overhead the stars shone dimly. To the south and east, the sky was banked with masses of cloud. Hugh, glancing that way, felt uneasy. A rain-storm coming down upon the heavily loaded, open bateau would be unpleasant if not disastrous. From the behavior of the sail, he knew that the wind was less steady. During the past two months he had learned something of the moods of Lake Superior, and he understood that he must be ready for a sudden shift. He had been handling both sheet and tiller, but now he turned the steering over to his brother.

The change of wind came suddenly and with force. For a few moments Hugh had his hands full. Blaise obeyed orders on the instant, sail and boat were swung about, and were soon running freely before the wind again.

“We may not reach the Kaministikwia so soon as we hoped,” Hugh commented, when the momentary danger was past. “The wind seems to be taking us where it chooses. As near as I can tell we must be running almost directly west now instead of northwest.”

Blaise looked up at the only patch of clear sky visible. “Yes, I think we go west. If the wind holds steady we shall reach the shore somewhere between the Kaministikwia and the Grand Portage. If it shifts again——” He broke off with a shrug.

“If it shifts again,” Hugh took up the words, “we shall reach somewhere sometime, unless we go to the bottom. Even that would be a better fate than falling into Ohrante’s hands.”

The breeze was increasing in force, the waves running ever higher. Hugh and Blaise were kept busy and alert. Before the wind, the bateau was sailing swiftly enough so that there was little danger of following seas actually swamping it, but, heavily laden, it rode low, with little buoyancy. Every time it pitched down into the trough of the waves it shipped water. Those were the dangerous moments. With the utmost care in handling sail and rudder, the brothers could do little to insure against disaster. To keep straight before the wind, not to lose control of sail or rudder, and to take the chances with coolness and composure was about all there was to do. As they drove on in the darkness, now riding high on the summit of a wave, now pitching down between walls of water, they lost all count of time.

The waves seemed to be flattening out a little. Surely they were less high and long, yet they were even more troublesome, for they had grown choppy and uneven. When Blaise steered straight with them, Hugh found the sail swinging around. When he sailed directly before the wind, the boat pitched at an angle with the waves.

“The wind has shifted again,” he said anxiously.

“It comes from the northeast now,” Blaise returned.

Both were too busy and anxious to talk. Hugh confined his speech to sharply given orders and Blaise to answering grunts. The spray of breaking waves soaked them both, time and again. The boat was shipping a good deal of water, but bailing was impossible. The elder brother had his hands full with the sail, the younger was compelled to give all his attention to steering.

Gradually conditions improved. The wind steadied and the waves obeyed it. Once more the bateau could ride them straight, while running directly before the breeze. The clouds were broken now, moving swiftly across the sky, covering and uncovering the moon and stars. Whenever the boys dared to take their eyes from sail and water, they glanced upward. When enough sky had been blown clean to show them the position of the moon and principal stars, both lads were surprised to learn that dawn was not nearer. It seemed to them that they had been pitching about in the waves for a very long time, yet the day was still hours away.

The wind continued strong, the waves were higher than ever, but the brothers had gained more confidence in the sailing qualities of the boat and in their own ability to handle it. Less water was being shipped, and by bailing when they had a chance, they managed to keep it from rising too high. Now that the sky was clearing and there was more light on the lake, they could see farther across it. As the boat rose to the top of a wave, Blaise said suddenly, “L’isle du Paté.”

Hugh looked quickly and, before the bateau pitched down between the waves, he caught a glimpse of a compact, abrupt, black mass towering from the water not many miles to his right. There seemed to be no chance of reaching the mouth of the Kaministikwia though. To turn and run in past the south side of Pie Island was out of the question. The square sail would be worse than useless, and the laden bateau would inevitably be swamped in the trough of the waves.

The stars were waning in the paling sky. The short summer night was drawing to a close and dawn was approaching. South and west of Pie Island and nearer at hand, lower lines of shore appeared, the chain of islands from one of which the adventurers had set out for the Isle Royale. Those islands, across several miles of heaving water, were still too far away to be reached. Wind and waves were carrying the bateau by. The sun, coming up in an almost clear sky, found the boat still running southwest on a course almost parallel with the unattainable chain of islands.

As the hours passed, the boys were encouraged to discover that they were drawing gradually nearer and nearer to the islands on the right. What was still better, they were bearing straight towards land ahead, continuous, high land they knew must be the main shore. It seemed that they must reach the mainland not many miles to the southwest of the place where the chain of islands diverged from it. Hugh had long since ceased to be particular where he landed, if it was only in some spot where food might be obtained. Rations the day before had been very scanty, and he was exceedingly hungry.

The wind was strong but steady, the waves long and high. The bateau, as it plunged down into the trough, continued to ship a little water, but the boys kept it down by bailing when a hand and arm could be spared. They were borne nearer and nearer to the land. As they ran past a group of small islets not more than a half mile distant, with a larger and higher island showing beyond them, Hugh glanced that way and considered trying to turn.

Blaise guessed his brother’s thought. “The mainland is not far now,” he said, “and we go straight towards it. Let us go on until we can land without danger to the furs. There will be more chance to find food on the mainland also.”

Both of the younger boy’s arguments had weight with Hugh. He gave up the idea of attempting to turn, and they went on with wind and waves. At the end of another hour they were bearing down upon an irregular, rocky point.

“Is that island or mainland, do you think?” Hugh inquired.

“Mainland,” was the unhesitating reply. “I remember the place. Have I not passed it three times in the last two moons?”

Hugh made no answer. He himself must have passed that spot twice within two months, but there were so many rocky points along the shore. Hugh was observing enough in the white man’s way, but he did not see how Blaise could remember all those places and tell them apart.

The bateau ran close to the point. When a bay came into view, Hugh expected Blaise to steer in, but the latter made no move to do so.

“It is steep and rocky there,” he explained, with a nod towards the abrupt-shored cove. “Beyond yet a little way is a better place, shallow and well protected.”

Past another point and along a steep rock shore they sailed. Here they were in much calmer water, for the points broke the force of wind and waves. As they approached a group of small islands, Blaise remarked, “It is best to take down the sail. We can paddle in.”

Accordingly Hugh lowered the sail and took up his paddle, while Blaise steered the bateau in among the islets. In a few moments the haven lay revealed, an almost round bay, its entrance nearly closed by islets. The islands and the points on either side were rocky, but the shores of the bay were low and densely wooded with tamarack, cedar and black spruce. The water was almost calm, and the boys made a landing on a bit of beach on the inner side and under the high land of the right hand point.

Hugh had not realized that he was particularly tired. The strain of the dangerous voyage had kept him alert, but he had had no sleep for two nights. Now, suddenly, an overpowering weariness and weakness came over him. His legs almost collapsed under him. He dropped down on the beach, too utterly exhausted to move. He was on solid land again, but he could scarcely realize it. His head was dizzy, and the moment his eyes closed he seemed to be heaving up and down again.