"Why, won"t the fog last?"
"I don"t car for the fog. Arter we get to Eastport harbure we cease goin down the bay. We then cross over an steal up the other side.
Then it"s all our own. If the fog lasts, why, the wind"ll last too, an we can go up flyin, all sails set; an I"ll remuve from my mind, for the time bein, any prejudyce that I have agin wind at sails."
"Do you intend to go ash.o.r.e at Eastport?"
"Yes, for a short time--jest to make inquiries. It will be a consolation, you know."
"Of course."
"Then I"ll up sail, an away we"ll go, irrewspective of tides, across the bay."
By midday the captain informed them that they were in Eastport harbor.
"See thar," said he, as he pointed to a headland with a light-house.
"That thar is the entrance. They do call this a pootyish place; but as it"s this thick, you won"t hev much chance to see it. Don"t you want to go ash.o.r.e an walk about?"
"Not if we can help it. Of course we"ll have to ask after poor Tom, but we haven"t any curiosity."
"Wal, p"aps not--ony thar is people that find this a dreadful cur"ous place. It"s got, as I said, a pootyish harbure; but that ain"t the grand attraction. The grand attraction centres in a rock that"s said to be the eastest place in the neighborin republic,--in short, as they call it, the "jumpin-off place." You"d better go an see it; ony you needn"t jump off, unless you like."
Sailing up the harbor, the fog grew light enough for them to see the sh.o.r.e. The town lay in rather an imposing situation, on the side of a hill, which was crowned by a fort. A large number of vessels lay about at the wharves and at anchor. Here they went ash.o.r.e in a boat, but on making inquiries could gain no information about Tom; nor could they learn anything which gave them the slightest encouragement.
"We"ve got to wait here a while so as to deva.r.s.efy the time. Suppose we go an jump off?" said the captain.
The boys a.s.sented to this in a melancholy manner, and the captain led the way through the town, till at last he halted at the extreme east end.
"Here," said he, "you behold the last extremity of a great an mighty nation, that spreads from the Atlantic to the Pacific, an from the Gulf of Mexiky to the very identical spot that you air now a occypyin of.
It air a celebrated spot, an this here air a memorable momient in your youthful lives, if you did but know it!"
There was nothing very striking about this place, except the fact which Captain Corbet had stated. Its appearance was not very imposing, yet, on the other hand, it was not without a certain wild beauty. Before them spread the waters of the bay, with islands half concealed in mist; while immediately in front, a steep, rocky bank went sheer down for some thirty or forty feet to the beach below.
"I suppose," said the captain, "that bein Pilgrims, it air our dooty to jump; but as it looks a leetle rocky down thar, I think we"d best defer that to another opportoonity."
Returning to the schooner, they weighed anchor, set sail, and left the harbor. On leaving it, they did not go back the way they had come, but pa.s.sed through a narrow and very picturesque channel, which led them by a much shorter route into the bay. On their left were wooded hills, and on their right a little village on the slope of a hill, upon whose crest stood a church.
Outside the fog lay as thick as ever, and into this they plunged. Soon the monotonous gray veil of mist closed all around them. But now their progress was more satisfactory, for they were crossing the bay, and the wind was abeam.
"Are you going straight across to Nova Scotia now?" asked Bart.
"Wal, yes; kine o" straight across," was the reply; "ony on our way we"ve got to call at a certain place, an contenoo our investergations."
"What place is that?"
"It"s the Island of Grand Manan--a place that I allers feel the greatest respect for. On that thar island is that celebrated fog mill that I told you of, whar they keep grindin night an day, in southerly weather, so as to keep up the supply of fog for old Fundy. Whatever we"d do without Grand Manan is more"n I can say."
"Is the island inhabited?" asked Bruce.
"Inhabited? O, dear, yas. Thar"s a heap o" people thar. It"s jest possible that a driftin boat might git ash.o.r.e thar, an ef so we"ll know pooty soon."
"How far is it?"
"O, ony about seven or eight mile."
"We"ll be there in an hour or so, then?"
"Wal, not so soon. You see, we"ve got to go round it."
"Around it?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"Cos thar ain"t any poppylation on this side, an we"ve got to land on t"other."
"Why are there no people on this side?"
"Cos thar ain"t no harbures. The cliffs air six hundred feet high, and the hull sh.o.r.e runs straight on for ever so fur without a break, except two triflin coves."
"How is it on the other side?"
"Wal, the east side ain"t a bad place. The sh.o.r.e is easier, an thar"s harbures an anchorages. Thar"s a place they call Whale Cove, whar I"m goin to land, an see if I can hear anythin. The people air ony fishers, an they ain"t got much cultivation; but it"s mor"en likely that a driftin boat might touch thar somewhar."
The Antelope pursued her course, but it was as much as three hours before she reached her destination. They dropped anchor then, and landed. The boys had already learned not to indulge too readily in hope; but when they made their inquiries, and found the same answer meeting them here which they had received in other places, they could not avoid feeling a fresh pang of disappointment and discouragement.
"Wal, we didn"t git much good out of this place," said Captain Corbet.
"I"m sorry that we have sech a arrand as ourn. Ef it warn"t for that we could spend to-night here, an to-morry I"d take you all to see the fog mill; but, as it is, I rayther think I won"t linger here, but perceed on our way."
"Where do we go next--to Nova Scotia?"
"Wal, not jest straight across, but kine o" slantin. We head now for Digby; that"s about straight opposite to St. John, an it"s as likely a place as any to make inquiries at."
"How long will it be before we get there?"
"Wal, some time to-morry mornin. To-night we"ve got nothin at all to do but to sweep through the deep while the stormy tempests blow in the shape of a mild sou-wester; so don"t you begin your usual game of settin up. You ain"t a mite of good to me, nor to yourselves, a stayin here. You"d ought all to be abed, and, ef you"ll take my advice, you"ll go to sleep as soon as you can, an stay asleep as long as you can. It"ll be a foggy night, an we won"t see a mite o" sunshine till we git into Digby harbure. See now, it"s already dark; so take my advice, an go to bed, like civilized humane beings."
It did not need much persuasion to send them off to their beds. Night was coming on, another night of fog and thick darkness. This time, however, they had the consolation of making some progress, if it were any consolation when they had no definite course before them; for, in such a cruise as this, when they were roaming about from one place to another, without any fixed course, or fixed time, the progress that they made was, after all, a secondary consideration. The matter of first importance was to hear news of Tom, and, until they did hear something, all other things were of little moment.
The Antelope continued on her way all that night, and on the next morning the boys found the weather unchanged. Breakfast pa.s.sed, and two or three hours went on. The boys were scattered about the decks, in a languid way, looking out over the water, when suddenly a cry from Pat, who was in the bows, aroused all of them. Immediately before them rose a lofty sh.o.r.e, covered in the distance with dark trees, but terminating at the water"s edge in frowning rocks. A light-house stood here, upon which they had come so suddenly that, before they were over their first surprise, they were almost near enough to toss a biscuit ash.o.r.e.
"Wal, now, I call that thar pooty slick sailin," exclaimed Captain Corbet, glancing at the lighthouse with sparkling eyes. "I tell you what it is, boys, you don"t find many men in this here day an age that can leave Manan at dusk, when the old fog mill is hard at work, and travel all night in the thickest fog ever seen, with tide agin him half the time, an steer through that thar fog, an agin that thar tide, so as to hit the light-house as slick as that. Talk about your scientific navigation--wouldn"t I like to see what one of them thar scientific captings would do with his vessel last night on sech a track as I run over! Wouldn"t I like to run a race with him? an ef I did, wouldn"t I make a pile to leave and bequeath to the infant when his aged parient air buried beneath the cold ground?"
While Captain Corbet was speaking, the schooner sailed past the light-house, and the thick fog closed around her once more. On one side, however, they could see the dim outline of the sh.o.r.e on their right. On they sailed for about a quarter of a mile, when suddenly the fog vanished, and, with scarce a moment"s notice, there burst upon them a blaze of sunlight, while overhead appeared the glory of the blue sky.
The suddenness of that transition forced a cry of astonishment from all. They had shot forth so quickly from the fog into the sunlight that it seemed like magic.
They found themselves sailing along a strait about a mile in width, with sh.o.r.es on each side that were as high as Blomidon. On the right the heights sloped up steep, and were covered with trees of rich dark verdure, while on the other side the slope was bolder and wilder.
Houses appeared upon the sh.o.r.e, and roads, and cultivated trees. This strait was several miles in length, and led into a broad and magnificent basin.