Vane of the Timberlands | Page 7

carries only one, the term is loosely applied in places, and as Vane had
changed her rig, there were two of them to be hoisted.
"It's a fair wind, and I dare say we'll find more weight in it lower

down," commented Carroll. "We'll let the staysail lie and run her with
the jib."
When they set the jib and broke out the anchor, Vane took the helm,
and the sloop, slanting over until her deck on one side dipped close to
the frothing brine, drove away into the darkness. The lights of the
settlement faded among the trees, and the black hills and the climbing
firs on either side slipped by, streaked by sliding vapors. A crisp,
splashing sound made by the curling ripples followed the vessel; the
canoe surged along noisily astern; and the frothing and gurgling grew
louder at the bows. They were running down one of the deep,
forest-shrouded inlets which, resembling the Norwegian fiords, pierce
the Pacific littoral of Canada; though there are no Scandinavian pines
to compare with the tremendous conifers which fill all the valleys and
climb high to the snow-line in that wild and rugged land.
There was no sound from the cabin, and Vane decided that his guests
had gone to sleep. The sloop was driving along steadily, with neither
lift nor roll, but when, increasing her speed, she piled the foam up on
her lee side and the canoe rode on a great white wave, he glanced
toward his companion.
"I wonder how the wind is outside?" he questioned.
Carroll looked around and saw the white mists stream athwart the pines
on a promontory they were skirting.
"That's more than I can tell. In these troughs among the hills, it either
blows straight up or directly down, and I dare say we'll find it different
when we reach the sound. One thing's certain--there's some weight in it
now."
Vane nodded agreement, though an idea that troubled him crept into his
mind.
"I understand that the steamboat skipper will run in to land some
Siwash he's bringing down. It will be awkward in the dark if the wind's
on-shore."

Carroll made no comment, and they drove on. As they swept around
the point, the sloop, slanting sharply, dipped her lee rail in the froth.
Ahead of them the inlet was flecked with white, and the wail of the
swaying firs came off from the shadowy beach and mingled with the
gurgling of the water.
"We'll have to tie down a reef and get the canoe on board," suggested
Carroll.
"Here, take the tiller a minute!"
Scrambling forward Vane rapped on the cabin slide and then flung it
back. Mrs. Marvin lay upon the leeward locker with a blanket thrown
over her and with the little girl at her feet; Miss Blake sat on the
weather side with a book in her hand.
"We're going to take some sail off the boat," he explained. "You
needn't be disturbed by the noise."
"When do you expect to meet the steamer?" Miss Blake inquired.
"Not for two or three hours, anyway."
Vane fancied that the girl noticed the hint of uncertainty in his voice,
and he banged the slide to as he disappeared.
"Down helm!" he shouted to Carroll.
There was a banging and thrashing of canvas as the sloop came up into
the wind. They held her there with the jib aback while they hauled the
canoe on board, which was not an easy task; and then with difficulty
they hove down a reef in the mainsail. It was heavy work, because there
was nobody at the helm; and the craft, falling off once or twice while
they leaned out upon the boom with toes on her depressed lee rail,
threatened to hurl them into the frothing water. Neither of them was a
trained sailor; but on that coast, with its inlets and sounds and rivers,
the wanderer learns readily to handle sail and paddle and canoe-pole.

They finished their task; and when Vane seized the helm Carroll sat
down under the shelter of the coaming, out of the flying spray.
"We'll probably have some trouble putting your friends on board the
steamer, even if she runs in," he remarked. "What are you going to do if
there's no sign of her?"
"It's a question I've been shirking for the last half-hour," Vane
confessed.
"It would be very slow work beating back up this inlet; and even if we
did so there isn't a stage across the island for several days. No doubt,
you remember that you have to see that contractor on Thursday; and
there's the directors' meeting, too."
"It's uncommonly awkward," Vane answered dubiously.
Carroll laughed.
"It strikes me that your guests will have to stay where they are, whether
they like it or