And the third channel was so wide and deep that he saw at once it could not be forded,unless he was willing to plunge above his waist.This was provoking.Now he realized that he had waited too long.The tide had been flowing for almost an hour;it had flowed fast and,as he should have remembered,having been told,the principal channels were eight feet deep before the highest flats were covered.
He hurried along the edge,looking for a shallower place,but found none.At last he reached the point of the flat he was on and saw,to his dismay,that here was the deepest spot yet,a hole,scoured out by a current like a mill race.Turning,he saw,creeping rapidly and steadily together over the flat behind him,two lines of foam,one from each channel.His retreat was cut off.
He was in for a wetting,that was sure.However,there was no help for it,so he waded in.The water filled his boots there,it gurgled about his hips,and beyond,as he could see,it seemed to grow deeper and deeper.The current was surprisingly strong;he found it difficult to keep his footing in the soft sand.It looked as though he must swim for it,and to swim in that tide would be no joke.
Then,from behind him,came a hail.He turned and saw moving toward him through the shallow water now covering the flat beyond the next channel,the cart he had seen leave the shore by the packet wharf,and,later,on the outer bar.The horse was jogging along,miniature geysers spouting beneath its hoofs.The driver waved to him.
Hold on,mate,he called.Belay there.Stay where you are.
I'll be alongside in a shake.Git dap,January!Ellery waded back to meet this welcome arrival.The horse plunged into the next channel,surged through it,and emerged dripping.
The driver pulled the animal into a walk.
Say,he cried,I'm cruisin'your way;better get aboard,hadn't you?There's kind of a heavy dew this mornin'.Whoa,Bill!Billor Januarystopped with apparent willingness.The driver leaned down and extended a hand.The minister took it and was pulled up to the seat.
Whew!he panted.I'm much obliged to you.I guess you saved me from a ducking,if nothing worse.Yes,was the answer,I wouldn't wonder if I did.This ain't Saturday night and 'twould be against Trumet principles to take a bath any other time.All taut,are you?Good enough!then we'll get under way.He flapped the reins and added,G'long,Julius Caesar!The horse,a sturdy,sedate beast to whom all names seemed to be alike,picked up his feet and pounded them down again.Showers of spray flew about the heads of the pair on the seat.
I ain't so sure about that duckin',commented the rescuer.Hum!
I guess likely we'll be out of soundin's if we tackle that sink hole you was undertakin'to navigate.Let's try it a little further down.Ellery looked his companion over.
Well,he observed with a smile,from what I've heard of you,Captain Hammond,I rather guess you could navigate almost any water in this locality and in all sorts of weather.The driver turned in surprise.
So?he exclaimed.You know me,do you?That's funny.I was tryin'to locate you,but I ain't been able to.You ain't a Trumetite I'll bet on that.Yes,I am.
Tut!tut!tut!you don't tell me.Say,shipmate,you hurt my pride.I did think there wa'n't a soul that ever trod sand in this village that I couldn't name on sight,and give the port they hailed from and the names of their owners.But you've got me on my beam ends.And yet you knew ME.Of course I did.Everybody knows the man that brought the packet home.Nat Hammond sniffed impatiently.
Um--hm!he grunted.I cal'late everybody does,and knows a lot more about that foolishness than I do myself.If ever a craft was steered by guess and by godfrey,'twas that old hooker of Zach's t'other night.Well--Humph!here's another piece of pilotin'
that bids fair to be a mighty sight harder.Heave ahead,Hannibal!
hope you've got your web feet with you.
They had moved along the edge of the flat a short distance and now turned into the channel.The horse was wading above its knees;soon the water reached its belly and began to flow into the body of the cart.
Pick up your feet,shipmate,commanded Nat.You may get rheumatiz if you don't.This'll be a treat for those sea clams back in that bucket amidships.They'll think I've repented and have decided to turn 'em loose again.They don't know how long I've been countin'on a sea-clam pie.I'll fetch those clams ashore if I have to lug 'em with my teeth.Steady,all hands!
we're off the ways.
The cart was afloat.The horse,finding wading more difficult than swimming,began to swim.
Now I'm skipper again,sure enough,remarked Hammond.Ain't gettin'seasick,are you?The minister laughed.
No,he said.
Good!she keeps on a fairly even keel,considerin'her build.
THERE she strikes!That'll do,January;you needn't try for a record voyage.Walkin's more in your line than playin'steamboat.
