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.
