Stem to Stern E-Book

Oliver Optic

• Herausgeber: Publisher s11838
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Stem to Stern written by Oliver Optic. This book is one of Series for boys (Boat-Builder). Published in 1885. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance the original work, there are occasionally instances where imperfections such as blurred or missing pages, poor pictures or errant marks may have been introduced due to either the quality of the original work. Despite these occasional imperfections, we have brought it back into print as part of our ongoing global book preservation commitment, providing customers with access to the best possible historical reprints. We appreciate your understanding of these occasional imperfections, and sincerely hope you enjoy reading this book.

Leseprobe

Stem to Stern

or building the boat

By

Oliver Optic

Table of Contents

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I.LILY BRISTOL AND HER TORMENTOR.

CHAPTER II.THE SON OF TOIL FIGHTS HIS OWN BATTLE.

CHAPTER III.THE FINAL MANDATE OF MAJOR BILLCORD.

CHAPTER IV.THE ABSENCE OF THE TRUANT DRAGON.

CHAPTER V.THE "GOLDWING" AT SANDY POINT.

CHAPTER VI.A CALL FOR ALL HANDS AT BEECH HILL.

CHAPTER VII.AN EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT.

CHAPTER VIII.A CHANGE OF LOCATION.

CHAPTER IX.THE JANITOR OF THE BOAT-HOUSE.

CHAPTER X.A LECTURE ON SHIP-BUILDING.

CHAPTER XI.ROUGH WATER ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

CHAPTER XII.A SAILBOAT IN THE TROUGH OF THE SEA.

CHAPTER XIII.THE DISASTER TO THE SILVER MOON.

CHAPTER XIV.THE WORK OF AN INCOMPETENT SKIPPER.

CHAPTER XV."ROLL ON, SILVER MOON."

CHAPTER XVI.DORY DORNWOOD GIVES A LESSON IN BOAT-SAILING.

CHAPTER XVII.THE MISSION OF THE SIX RUFFIANS.

CHAPTER XVIII.THE RESULT OF AN UNEQUAL CONFLICT.

CHAPTER XIX.A DEADLOCK AT THE HEAD OF THE BAY.

CHAPTER XX.THE REBELLIOUS SKIPPER OF THE SLOOP.

CHAPTER XXI.AN OUTRAGE IN THE STANDING-ROOM OF THE SLOOP.

CHAPTER XXII.AN INVITATION TO SANDY POINT.

CHAPTER XXIII.THE PROCEEDINGS AT SANDY POINT.

CHAPTER XXIV.THE STUDENTS DECIDE "WHAT'S IN A NAME."

CHAPTER XXV.BUILDING THE BOAT.

CHAPTER XXVI.THAT CUNNING TOM TOPOVER.

CHAPTER XXVII.THE BRILLIANT STRATEGY OF THE BRUISER.

CHAPTER XXVIII.A HARD BATTLE AT SANDY POINT.

CHAPTER XXIX.THE ENGINEER OF THE UNDINE.

CHAPTER XXX.LAUNCHING THE BOAT.

"Walk Billcord rushed out from the bushes."

PREFACE.

"Stem to Stern" is the fourth volume of the "Boat-Builder Series." Most of the characters connected with the Beech Hill Industrial School continue to take part in the action of the story. Like its predecessors, a considerable portion of the work is devoted to business and mechanical information. The writer finds it quite impracticable to give as minute directions for the building of a boat as a few of his young readers may desire, for the entire volume would hardly afford sufficient space for all the details of planning and constructing a yacht. But he has endeavored to impart some information in a general way in regard to shipbuilding, and has indicated in what manner the ambitious young boat-builder may obtain the amplest instruction in this difficult art. It is necessary to assure his young friends that, with all the book-knowledge it is possible to obtain on the subject, it will require a great deal of skill and not a little scientific and technical learning to enable him to construct anything more elaborate than an ordinary flatboat. Nothing but assiduous practice can procure the skill, and nothing but hard study the geometrical and technical details of the art.

As in the preceding volumes of the series, "Stem to Stern" is largely a story of adventure on Lake Champlain and its shores. A new character is introduced as the leading spirit of the story, whose struggles with the difficulties in his life-path can hardly fail to interest the young reader. Though he is peaceful and submissive under ordinary circumstances, with none of the swellish importance of many boys of his years, he is not a milk-and-water youth, and has pluck and strength enough to "stand up" for those whom misfortune has placed under his protection.

Although the two remaining volumes of the series are especially devoted to rigging and sailing a boat, the present and the preceding books incidentally treat of these subjects. While so many young men on the sea, lakes and rivers seem to inherit or early acquire a taste for boats and boating, it is important that they should understand the theory of managing a sailing craft, though nothing but intelligent practice can make a competent "skipper." With such knowledge and skill, boat-sailing is a safe, as well as a healthy and improving sport.

As in former volumes, the writer has endeavored to interest his young readers in mechanical operations and pursuits; and he hopes the series will contribute its mite in influencing boys to respect manual labor and to adopt it as a pastime or the business of life.

Dorchester, Mass., August 17, 1885.

CHAPTER I. LILY BRISTOL AND HER TORMENTOR.

"I don't want anybody to row for me, Mr. Walker; I came out to take a little exercise, and I can do it best when I am all alone," said Miss Lily Bristol to a young gentleman of about eighteen who stood on the sandy beach.

"But it will be a good deal more sociable to have company," replied Walk Billcord with a smile and a smirk.

Lily Bristol had the reputation of being a very pretty girl, and fame had not exaggerated her beauty. She was very plainly dressed, but she was as neat as though she had just come out of the bureau-drawer. She was seated in a rude flatboat, with a pair of oars in her hands, which she seemed to know how to use.

The boat was only a rod or two from the end of Sandy Point, at the southern side of the entrance to a bay with the same name. It was in the spring of the year, and the water in Lake Champlain was at its highest.

Hardly more than a rod from the point where the rippling waves sported with the bright sand was a small and lightly-built cottage. It contained two rooms on the lower floor, with two small attic chambers over them. The structure rested on posts set in the sand, and looked as light and airy as a bird-cage.

This cottage was the home of Peter Bristol, or, rather, of his wife and two children; for the father of the family had been away for two years, seeking to better his impaired fortunes. Peter had always been a poor man, and was always likely to be. He had been a sort of Jack-at-all-trades, not particularly good at any. He had been a fireman on a railroad, a farm-hand, a general jobber; he had tried his hand at almost everything without much success.

Major Billcord owned all the land near Sandy Point. Some years before, he had taken it into his head that the high ground in the rear of Sandy Bay would be an excellent site for a hotel. Some of his friends did not agree with him, and assured him that a hotel could not live in this location.

But the major was an obstinate man, and had his own way. He erected a structure of fifty rooms, with the intention of adding a hundred more after the first season. But for half a dozen reasons the hotel was a dreary failure. It never contained more than half a score of guests at any one time.

Included in this small number was Colonel Buckmill, who was then looking for a suitable site for an academy. The owner of the estate would not admit that the hotel was a failure, but he hinted that the building might be obtained for the school. It exactly suited Colonel Buckmill, and a bargain was soon made for a lease of it. In this manner the Sunnyside Hotel became the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute in the autumn of the same year.

Of course, one of the attractions of the Sunnyside was to be boating on the lake, and Major Billcord provided two sailboats and some rowboats; and Peter Bristol, who Was a good boatman, was engaged to take care of the boats, and act as skipper when required. The poor man, taking his cue from his employer, believed he had fallen upon a bonanza. His fortune was made, and the rest of his days would be spent at Sandy Point.

His wife had over three hundred dollars in her own right in a savings bank, which she was willing to put into a house, and the cottage on the point was built. The family moved into it, and were delighted with the situation, though it was a rather dismal place in the winter. Peter was to have half the money derived from letting the boats; but he soon found that he had nothing to do. The few guests did not care to row or sail.

The boatman had no rent to pay, for the major had given him permission to put his house on the point without charge; but he found it was very hard work to get enough for his family to eat. Lily obtained work in Westport, and Paul attended to the boats while his father worked at haying, and they got through the season. But the dream of fortune had collapsed.

Peter Bristol was discouraged, and went to New York to find work. He obtained no situation, and shipped for the West Indies. A letter from him informed his family that he was at work on a plantation, and he hoped to do well after a while. Since that, nothing had been heard from him in two years.

Paul obtained a little work at the institute, and Lily kept her place in Westport; so that the family had worried along until the daughter lost her situation for the want of sufficient work at the store in which she was employed. Then it was difficult even to obtain enough to eat. Paul did his best, and allowed himself to be bullied and kicked by the gentlemanly students of the institute, while he could make an occasional quarter.

Major Billcord lived in Westport, and his son had lately become a pupil in the institute. He was older than most of the students, and was a wild young fellow. In the early spring he had seen Lily Bristol. He agreed with others who had seen her that she was a remarkably pretty girl, and he had made frequent visits to Sandy Point.

"I prefer to be in the boat alone," Lily replied to the young gentleman's remark that it would be more sociable to have company.

"But I want to see you, Lily, and have a talk with you," persisted Walker Billcord.

"I will see you at the cottage if you desire," answered Lily.

"But I wish to see you alone."

"You cannot see me alone, sir," replied the pretty maiden with a great deal of spirit.

"What's the reason I can't? I shall not hurt you. I think I know how to behave like a gentleman."

"Perhaps you do," added Lily rather doubtfully, for Walk Billcord's reputation was none of the best.

"If you will come to the shore, I will row you all about the bay," Walk insisted. "I will make it as pleasant for you as possible."

"No, I thank you," replied the damsel decidedly.

"What's the matter with you? I hope you don't think I mean to do you any harm."

"I am not afraid of you, but I choose to be alone in the boat."

With this she pulled away from the shore, though he continued to call out to her as long as she was within hearing. She did not like the young man at all, but rather despised than feared him. He had often thrown himself in her way, and exerted himself to please her. She was civil to him, and that was all.

Lily remained in the boat, pulling about the little bay for over an hour. Walk had stood upon the beach for at least half an hour, waiting for her return to the shore. Then he had retired, and the fair maiden supposed he had gone back to the institute. When she had taken all the air and exercise she thought she needed, she rowed back to the shore. Just as she had driven the bow of the flatboat as far as she could on the sand, Walk Billcord rushed out from the bushes, where he had concealed himself, and prevented her from getting out of the boat.

She had put the oars under the thwarts, and arranged everything inside of the boat, which had delayed her a few moments. But as soon as she saw her tormentor running to the waterside, she attempted to leap out of the boat.

"No, you don't, my pretty maiden!" exclaimed Walk, as he seized her by the shoulders, and crowded her back to her seat in the stern.

Under the impetus of the force applied to her by the young man, Lily dropped into the seat, and was obliged to grasp the gunwale of the boat to avoid being thrown into the water. The fair face of the young lady was flushed with anger, as well it might have been, for she had not suspected that her tormentor would resort to violence.

She was not inclined to submit quietly to the will of Walk, for she immediately drew out one of the oars from under the thwarts, and poised it in the air, as though she intended to defeat the intentions of the reckless young gentleman even by meeting force with force.

Walk Billcord stood for a moment holding on at the prow of the boat, as though he was undecided as to his next step. Doubtless he felt that he had already passed the bounds of propriety, and appeared to be considering whether it was prudent to proceed any further. A glance at the glowing and indignant face of Lily increased his interest in the adventure, and he was not willing to leave her in the moment of her heightened beauty.

Lily was the daughter of a poor dependent of his father: at least, he so regarded her, and thought he had some right to subject her to his own whim. He wanted to row her about the bay, and talk with her; and this was the extent of his present wishes. It was only a "bit of a lark," a harmless pleasantry, on his part, as he afterward explained it, and he had not the slightest intention of injuring her.

The fair maiden did not regard herself as a proper subject for the young gentleman's pleasantry, and she was prepared to bring down the blade of the oar upon his head if the occasion should require. In the attitude of defence she waited for his next demonstration. The upraised oar rather tempted Walk to proceed, and he pushed the bow of the boat from the sand, springing into the foresheets as he did so.

As this was not a direct assault upon her, Lily did not bring down the oar upon his head, as she would under greater provocation, but she dropped it into the water at the stern of the boat. The water was shoal; and, setting the blade upon the sand at the bottom, she dexterously whirled the craft about, bringing the stern within a few feet of the dry sands on the shore.

Mr. Walk Billcord did not object to this movement, as it was necessary to head the boat away from the shore; but he deemed it prudent to secure the other oar before his fair companion could do so. He stooped down and got hold of the blade end of it. It required a little tact to remove it from its position under the thwarts; and, while he was engaged in doing it, Lily gave the oar another push, forcing the boat close up to the shore.

Without waiting for her tormentor to get the second oar over the forward thwart, she leaped lightly upon the dry sand, effecting her landing without wetting the soles of her shoes. She still held the oar in her hand, and stood on the shore, waiting for the next move of her unwelcome companion.

She was too proud to run away from such a contemptible being as she considered Mr. Walk Billcord. She looked as though she felt abundantly able to defend herself from any attack on the part of the unmanly persecutor. She evidently believed that he had no serious intention to harm her, but was simply making her the sport of his whim.

The moment she leaped ashore, Walk realized that she had got the better of him. Whatever he intended, he did not like to be outdone by a feeble girl. It was not pleasant for him, even in fun, to be outwitted by a weak maiden. He felt that he had not been smart, and he was annoyed at the situation. His vanity demanded that he should do something to get "even" with his intended victim.

The confident look and attitude of Lily on the shore disconcerted him, and invited further action on his part. He had not yet obtained possession of the oar, for it had to be shoved back before it could be passed over the forward thwart. But he had no present need of the implement, and he abandoned it to survey the position of Lily. He interpreted her looks and attitude as a defiance.

The boat, detached from the sand, was floating away from the shore. With a long leap he planted his feet on the land, and the effect of his movement was to drive the boat farther from the beach. A gentle breeze from the westward was driving it farther away, and Lily saw that it would soon be out of her reach.

She rushed to the water's edge, and, reaching out as far as she could, she succeeded in placing the end of the blade on the prow. She began to draw the truant craft toward the shore, when Walk put himself at her side. He took the oar from her hand, and pulled the craft up till its bottom grated on the sand.

Lily took a stick, and tried to get hold of the painter. As soon as she had it in her hand, Walk took it from her. He not only took the rope, but the hand which held it. He grasped her wrist with one hand, while he tried to drag the boat ashore with the other. He soon found that he had his hands full, both literally and figuratively.

Lily attempted to shake him off; but Walk tightened his hold upon her wrist, though he had to drop the painter of the boat, which, having no hold upon the land, began to float off into the open lake. The fair maiden turned and twisted in her efforts to escape, but the young ruffian held on like a vise.

In a moment or two she was exhausted with the violence of her exertions, and by this time she was thoroughly frightened. Very likely Walk had no worse intentions than at first, and was simply engaged in the business of getting "even" with the weak maiden who had outwitted him.

"What do you mean, you wretch? Let go of me!" gasped Lily, her chest heaving with terror and emotion.

"Don't make a fuss, my pretty one; I will not harm you," replied Walk.

"Let go of me, Mr. Billcord! I thought you claimed to be a gentleman! Let go, or I will scream," panted Lily.

"I only want to take a little row with you, and I shall, you may depend upon that," added Walk, picking up the oar which had fallen on the beach. "Don't make a fuss, and I won't hurt you."

But Lily again renewed the struggle with all her might. Just at that moment, Paul Bristol and his mother came out of the cottage. The boy was a stout youth of fifteen, and, the moment he saw what was going on, he broke into a run.

CHAPTER II. THE SON OF TOIL FIGHTS HIS OWN BATTLE.

Paul Bristol seemed to have made only a couple of bounds before he had covered the distance between the cottage and the shore. He saw his sister struggling to release herself from the grasp of Walk Billcord. All the indignation Nature had portioned out to him was roused, and he did not stop to ask any questions. He did not even utter a word of warning or reproach.