The "Osprey" was a staunch, trim-looking schooner of graceful proportions. Captain Mason, still quite young, and with enthusiasm corresponding to his years, kept his vessel always fresh and clean. Aft, a commodious cabin, with a new coat of paint, shone dazzlingly white; so did the rail and gunwale, which, around the stern, rose above the rest of the deck in an ornamental curve.
Leaving just a passageway between the cabin, and running the deck's entire length, were piles of smooth, finished boards bound in position by means of heavy ropes. Enough space was left in the center to reach the men's quarters forward; while on each side a narrow passageway between the gunwale and lumber led to the bow.
"Only hope I don't get stuck," murmured Dave, with some apprehension, as he viewed the confined space.
Two life-boats, bottom up, were fastened securely on top of the boards.
The mass of rigging impressed the boys immensely. Their eyes ran over innumerable blocks and tackle, shaky-looking ladders, and a bewildering maze of rope which stretched aloft to a dizzy height.
"What beats me," remarked Tim, solemnly, "is how they ever remember what to do with 'em all."
"Every mornin' the sailors learn the names all over again, I guess," chuckled Tim.
"In a ship like this—" began Tom.
"This isn't a ship, Tommy," corrected Tim; "it's a schooner. You have a whole lot to learn, son—listen: a schooner's—"
"Huh! Much you know about nautical vessels," chirped Tommy, with a wink.
"'Nautical vessels' is a good one," murmured Tim. "Something new; seagoing marine nautical vessels, you meant. Who was that howled—did you speak, Mr. Sam Randall?"
"Yes, Timothy! Say, Bob, did you see Pete Colliver talking to Cap'n Slater?"
"Didn't notice 'em, Sam."
"Well, I did—happened to turn quickly. Jiminy! Cap had about the queerest expression on his face I ever saw; honest, if Pete wasn't telling him something I'm much mistaken."
"Thunder—avast there! No more o' that, my hearty!" growled Jack. "How do you do, Cap'n!"
A well-built young man approached. There wasn't very much of the typical sailor about Captain Don Mason. He had dark hair, a close-cropped mustache and deep brown eyes. But for a bronzed complexion and the innumerable wrinkles which outdoor life had formed over his face, he might have been taken for a prosperous young business man.
"Glad to see you, lads," he said, in an off-hand manner. "Not much room, is there? Make yourselves as comfortable as you can; don't fall overboard any oftener than necessary." He glanced critically at the sky. "We'll be off in another moment. See you later, boys!"
"Seems to be a nice chap," said Bob.
"All sailors are," declared Tom Clifton.
"Especially those on nautical vessels," grinned Tim.
Presently they heard Captain Mason's commands ring out. Then came the clank and banging of heavy chains, as the anchor was slowly hauled up.
"Thunder! but don't they know how to handle those ropes, though!" cried Tommy, admiringly, a moment later.
The sailors were pulling away with a rhythmical swing. The creaking of pulleys and rattle of blocks sounded above Captain Mason's voice. Up, up rose the sails, reef-points tossing in the wind. Now the canvas bellied out; then flapped and shook. The boom seemed to shiver convulsively. A few strong pulls, and the mainsail caught the breeze, straining hard. Up went the jib.
With all sails set, the "Osprey" lurched; then her bow plunged deep into a green flood of heaving water—they were actually off.
Seven boys, squeezing along the narrow space between lumber and gunwales, tumbled hilariously toward the stern. But even pleasurable anticipations could not altogether still a pang of regret at leaving Uncle Stanley's lumber camp. They waved their hands, shouting again and again.
How fine the sawmills looked, sending up columns of smoke and steam! And there, over the bluff's rugged heights, were the cabins. The crowd became silent—but only for a moment.
"Had some great times," sighed Tim. "Never thought we'd meet with a fate like this, eh?"
"What do you mean—what fate?" grunted Jack.
"Why, that we'd get blown away."
"Well, as long as we aren't blown into little bits, you needn't kick," grinned Jack.
A fresh breeze droned intermittently through the rigging, and choppy waves beating against the hull now and again sent up showers of sparkling drops.
The familiar, forest-crowned cliffs began to drop lower against the sky.
"Want to see the cabin, boys?"
Captain Mason, peering over a pile of boards, smiled pleasantly.
"You can bet we do," laughed Jack.
A creaking boom stood close over the cabin roof. The steersman, at the stern, grinning cheerfully, nodded toward them. The schooner was rolling slightly, while the wash and splash of beating waves seemed to be steadily growing louder. Over the greenish expanse of water were dotted a number of sailing craft.
"Yes, we've encountered some pretty stormy weather," said the captain, in answer to a question from Dave. "Here we are, lads."
They quickly followed him down the companionway into a cozy apartment. A table, several chairs, a small stove and a sideboard were the most prominent objects; but the crowd soon discovered other things which interested them greatly—nautical instruments, government charts, besides a cabinet containing shells and curious fish which the captain had collected occupied appropriate places.
Dave Brandon showed a familiarity with the names quite astonishing to Skipper Don.
"Oh, but Dave knows everything," murmured Tommy. "Say"—he looked around with a grin—"doesn't it seem queer to be in a room that can't keep still?"
"Awful odd," laughed Jack. "If you stay very quiet, lad, why—"
"Oh, don't be so funny," retorted Tom, grumpily. "Bet I'm just as good a sailor as you are—and then a bit more. Got your field-glass, Bob? Good! Let's go on deck and see the mountains moving by."
"Fellows, I'd like to stay on this boat a solid month," remarked Dave, with a yawn. "Isn't the motion perfectly great? Imagine lying in a nice, comfortable bunk and—"
A howl of derision cut him short.
With hearty thanks to the captain for his courtesy, six boys presently dashed up the companionway to the deck, while Dave, his eyes twinkling, slowly followed. He wandered off by himself, and some time later they found him, stretched flat on his back between the life-boats, contemplating a blue and white sky with infinite contentment.
"Oh, can't you chaps let me alone?" he drawled, when Jack, with a yell of glee, disturbed his rest.
But, in spite of entreaties, they cruelly pounced upon their victim and dragged him protestingly away.
"It would serve Dave just right if we wedged him fast between the lumber and this what-you-may-call-'em at the side, and left him to his fate," pronounced Sam severely.
"Dreadful pirates!" sighed Dave.
Bob's field-glass was thrust into the stout boy's hand, as they hustled him to the bow.
"If you don't say that's one of the bulliest sights you ever saw, something will happen," said Bob. He waved his arm toward a range of the Cascade Mountains.
The highest, a snow-capped peak, pierced a veil of whitish cloud, shone against a patch of deep blue sky, and was lost in a mass of vapor above.
Dave gave a cry of admiration, as he swept the field-glass across their rugged slopes. Successively framed within that little circle of light were enchanting views of wild mountain scenery—dense forests, tinged yellow and brown, in many places interspersed with the rich green of hemlock and pine; deeply shadowed ravines; great piles of barren rock, crowned by tangled vegetation and trees whose branches sometimes hung far over dizzy depths. Then flashed into view a foaming cascade, tumbling from one level to another like a silver streak.
The field-glass was raised higher—beyond the point where all vegetation ceased; there was nothing there but a barren, desolate waste, topped by perpetual snow.
"By Jove, fellows, but that is perfectly immense!" exclaimed Dave. "Your cruelty is forgiven. Whew! If the mountain we're bound for is like those—why—"
"I say we'll need an aeroplane, an' not horses," suggested Jack, with a grimace. "I can see ourselves gettin' into all sorts o' nice mix-ups; an' perhaps we won't come closer'n ten miles from that—"
"Jabberwock—Jabberwock, Jacky!" sang out Dick, warningly. "Just reminds me—wasn't Pete the cheekiest thing you ever saw? And Jimmy, too? Wonder what Captain Slater—"
"Don't you mention Pete's name in my presence again; don't even think o' him while I'm around!" howled Jack. "My, but you do make me tired. Run off an' play!"
"Talk like that may lead to some one walking the plank," grinned Dick. "An ancient custom revived! It would be a very unpleasant duty, Jacky, but if necessary—"
Dick nimbly eluded the big boy's hand, and retreated with undignified haste to a place of safety.
At noon Captain Mason invited them to lunch. By the time the meal was over, a blanket of dark cloud had covered the blue, while lower, faster-moving masses scudded swiftly along. The "Osprey" rolled and shook, sheets of hissing foam tumbling back upon white-capped waves.
The boys looked at the spread of canvas, dark and grim, towering aloft, slowly swinging back and forth, with reef-points lashing furiously, then at the straining booms and tightened rigging, through which the wind was tearing with unpleasant force.
"It's developing into a regular storm," said Tom. "Whew—just gaze at that chap!"
A young sailor was climbing up a ladder. They watched his figure loom against the sky, as he mounted to a dizzy height on the insecure-looking rope ladder. At times, he seemed to be leaning backward.
"Gee; if he should slip!" murmured Dick, apprehensively.
"Oh, I guess he's too used to the business for that," assured Bob.
But all gave a sigh of relief when, after a few moments' work, the sailor descended.
"Hello—hello, fellows!" came a hail from the stern. It was Tim Lovell, who had wandered away. "Hello; a steamboat comin'—a real one!"
"Silly dub," said Jack. "Who ever heard of an unreal one? Wonder if it's life-size? Ask Tom if it's a nautical boat. Get out o' my way, Sam Randall."
The boys struggled aft as fast as the narrow passage would permit, receiving in their haste a number of unpleasant bumps and bangs.
They found Tim standing close to the steersman, gazing one moment at the foaming, bubbling wake, the next toward a distant boat over which hovered a wreath of brownish smoke.
"See!" Tim pointed. "Bet it's a whopper. Don't give Jacky your glass, Bob. Oh, ginger—that settles it!"
Jack had rudely snatched the instrument, and, planting his feet hard, steadied himself against the cabin roof.
"Looks great!" he cried. "I wonder, maybe—I wonder if—"
"What?" asked Sam.
"If it can be the 'Evergreen State'; looks just like her."
"The boat we came on!" cried Dick. "Wouldn't that be jolly?"
"If she only stopped at the lumber camp we might be standing on her deck now," remarked Sam.
"Oh, I guess not; the 'Osprey' for me," declared Tom Clifton. "Anybody can travel on a steamboat, but everybody can't get his bumps on a lumber schooner."
"Besides, its next stop is Rawdon, several miles below Wild Oak, where we get off," said Bob.
"You mean disembark; use nautical terms, Bob," laughed Sam. "Hurry up with that glass, Jack; the rest of us have eyes, too, and want to get a look."
But Jack didn't hurry; whereupon Sam, Dick and Tommy made a united attack, which resulted in the glass changing hands.
"I'll make you sorry for that," puffed Jack.
"Isn't she cutting through the water, though?" exclaimed Sam. "Won't be so very long before she's up with us."
Taking turns with the glass—Jack had promised to be good—the seven eagerly watched the steamer's approach. Now she was coming clearly into view, even the passengers on her deck being readily seen. Her huge black funnels were sending up columns of smoke.
Sam, sweeping the craft from stem to stern, gazed for several moments in silence; then:
"It's the 'Evergreen State,' fellows!" he exclaimed.
"Hooray!" yelled Dick.
"No better boat nor her runs to Portland," grunted the steersman, throwing a glance over his shoulder.
Slowly the distance between the boats was lessened.
"She'll pass purty close to us, lads," volunteered the man at the wheel.
The boys lolled on the cabin roof. The glass ran from hand to hand and back again. A hearty cheer went up, and handkerchiefs fluttered when the "Evergreen State" finally crept abreast.
Then Dick, who was gazing intently, gave a short, shrill whistle, let his hands drop for an instant, and whistled again, with such a note of astonishment that the others sat bolt upright and stared.
"Well?" queried Bob.
"Why—say"—Dick's glass rose again—"say—yes, there's no mistake about it! Say—"
"Say what?" howled Tim. "Tell us, you silly duffer!"
"Why, Mr. Lovell—your Uncle Stanley—is aboard that boat!”