Polly's Southern Cruise
Again the rifle of the guide cracked, and in another moment the guns of the two Americans sent forth their spurts of red and the yellow streaks of death right into the opened jaws of the monster. Still she came on and lifted her vast opened jaw within a foot of Jack’s leg. The lashing tail of the alligator was the only thing which told she had been shot and was suffering.
It would have been good-night for the hunter’s leg had not the guide filled the forehead of the reptile with shot – shot that entered between the eyes and sank into the brain to paralyze further designs on her enemies.
With a mighty effort the huge creature lifted herself half out of the water and flung herself far from the log. The midstream silently covered her with its green covering and the monster sank from view.
“Did we kill her?” nervously cried Jack.
“Her gone! She die, but not here. Where she go we no go!”
“All right, then, I’m through hunting alligators. After seeing the frantic grief and mother-love in that awful thing’s eyes I could not aim at another creature in this swamp. You go on with the guide, Ray, but I’m through!” declared Jack.
“I say the same, Jack. When you remember the old reptile’s snout as she lovingly went over the carcass of her young, it makes us seem like brutes, even less soulful than the poor alligator. Come on.”
The guide smiled. He could not understand such sentiments over a vile alligator, and he felt that he had selected a pair of weak-kneed youths to take into the swamp.
“You not fraid of legs! I not let alligator bite you, I swear!” exclaimed the guide, thinking they were nervous at the close acquaintance with the mother-’gator.
But Jack took no trouble to explain. They motioned the man to lead out, and shortly after the incident had closed the three reached the sandy shore where the boat had been anchored.
In the heat of a tropical sun they ate a few rice-cakes and drank warm water from the canteen, but they had to wait for more than an hour before the other hunters came back. Meanwhile the guide had followed his own bent and had gone back into the swamp to secure a trophy. Jack was glad to find later that he had not seen a single snout.
The return trip was soon accomplished, but when the boat came to the place where the yacht had been last seen there was not a sign of the White Crest.
“Well, this is what they planned – to give us the slip!” laughed Mr. Dalken, as he motioned the men to keep on and land them on the wharf of Spanish Town.
The hunters returned earlier than had been planned for, hence they had a tiresome wait at Spanish Town for the appearance of the White Crest once more. All they could learn by questioning the loafers at the quay was the fact that the yacht had sailed away. That was self-evident, or else she had gone down. The latter was too impossible for belief so she must have sailed away.
Dinnertime came and passed, still no White Crest. The darkness came over the water and the squatty houses of Spanish Town, and still no yacht. It was close to midnight when the impatient watchers, seated on a crude plank on the wharf, saw a beautiful silvery craft glide up to the mouth of the river and silently drop her anchor.
“Well, there she is, but how are we to reach her?” asked the owner, chewing the end of a cigar.
“We’ll halloo for the Captain to send us the boat,” replied Jack, and immediately Ray and he chorused a loud call for transportation over the bay.
The transfer was made and then, man-like, the hunters all clamored for an explanation. “To think of leaving us stranded all day and half the night!” exclaimed Mr. Ashby.
“We thought you planned to be hunting until sundown,” said Mrs. Ashby.
“And of course you would be worn out when you got back and would appreciate a little quiet on the quay,” added Mrs. Fabian, smilingly.
“Where have you been?” demanded Jack.
“We’ve been cooling our heels ever since four o’clock.”
“Perhaps we had the best time then,” said Mrs. Courtney. “I certainly enjoyed myself immensely to-day and this evening.”
“We all did,” echoed her companions. “We sailed all round Jamaica and saw sights which you men would not bother to stop and appreciate. We have seen the tiny palm-covered coral dots which lift their heads above the rippling sea and warn us to keep a keen watch for the reefs hidden under the water. We have had pointed out to us the great mountainsides where the three hundred thousand black slaves climbed in order to face the rising sun on the dawn of the day that witnessed their emancipation. We got birdseye views of the other towns on the Island of Jamaica – Port Antonio, Montego Bay, and the smaller settlements which dot the island like so many studs of color. Oh, yes! we had a glorious sail – thanks to our good Captain.”
“And thanks to the good yacht,” laughed Mr. Dalken.
“We may as well add: thanks to Dalky and his generous invitation to us,” concluded Polly.
And to the latter motion every one called a unanimous hurrah!
The following day was given to visiting the cathedral which is the oldest building on the island. It can show an antiquity of four centuries and withstood all battles for supremacy of different factions and nations since 1523. Polly and Eleanor went with Mr. Fabian and Mr. Ashby to examine and study the old monuments, the style of decoration, and the many other notable points of interest to architects and decorators.
Having ended this visit, the tourists returned to the White Crest and sailed away, but to stop at Hope Gardens – the Botanical Gardens and a show-place of Jamaica. There were many other places to be visited, a list of them showing that some would have to be eliminated. So after “doing” Belle View, Castleton, and Mandeville, the entire party voted to say goodby to Jamaica, the Queen of the Antilles, and continue on their vagabondage.
CHAPTER XI – MEETING OLD FRIENDS IN PANAMA
After leaving Jamaica the Captain asked for instructions as to the chosen direction and the next stopping place.
“Well, after once seeing Jamaica, I suppose we have virtually seen every other island in the Caribbean Group. The flowers, the climate, the natives, even the employments are all similar if not exactly alike. There is but one point of interest that is not common to them all, and that is the volcano of Mont Pelée on Martinique.
“But volcanoes are no curiosity to Polly because she lives in the crater of one of the largest extinct volcanoes in the Rockies, so there is no call for the White Crest to stop at Martinique to show her Mont Pelée,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Why not sail along past the different islands of the archipelago and have a good look at them from our comfortable deck chairs,” suggested Mrs. Courtney.
This proposition was received with approval and the Captain was advised to steer a course as close as practical to the coral formations, and, those islands of volcanic structure, and permit the tourists to see the Windward Islands without troubling to go ashore.
Hence the yacht, in its cruise, sailed past Porto Rico, and the long string of tiny isles connecting that important island with Barbados and Trinidad. St. Lucia, Dominica, and Martinique were left behind, and then the Captain changed his course to a westward direction.
Leaving Venezuela to the southward he sped on for the Canal Zone. The plan originally made in New York would then be followed as closely as possible. At Colon the White Crest would anchor until her passengers had visited all that was to be in that town seen, and then they would go through the great locks of the Canal and eventually reach the Pacific Ocean.
Mr. Dalken and the Captain figured that a week would be ample time in which to visit everything and come out of the Canal to the Colombia shore. But they reckoned without the young folks, as usual.
Soon after the yacht had anchored at Colon, the tourists started to visit the town. They had not gone far before Jack discovered there would be a great baseball match at the public park between the United States army side and the Colon players. His eye caught the names of two members of the regiment stationed at Panama, and he turned to show them to Ray.
“Could it possibly be Bill Ainslee and Bob Madden of the A. E. F. in France?”
“I did hear something about Bill remaining with the regulars to try South America. We can’t lose out by introducing ourselves, anyway, and ten to one the boys will turn out to be our old Buddies,” said Ray.
The proposition was made and accepted to go and see the ball game late that afternoon; the girls felt as much interest in knowing whether or not the two soldiers at Panama were the ones Jack believed them to be.
No sooner was the Dalken party seated in the Grand Stand, than Jack and Ray hurried away. They were gone a long time, and the eager spectators on the bleachers as well as those in the Grand Stand, had to call and show impatience at the delay of the opening of the game before the teams came out.
Jack and Ray returned to their friends on the Grand Stand. One glance at their smiling faces told the girls that they had found pals. Jack was bubbling over with pleasure at the meeting and the plans they had made for a good time during the visit at Panama.
“Gee! Bill looks great! He was so white and thin in the trenches over there, but now he has filled out and looks wonderful. I never dreamed he would turn out to be so handsome, did you, Ray?”
“No, but then Bob isn’t far behind in looks. It must be this climate that tans them to such a glorious shade,” said Ray.
“There are other things than tan that this climate does to one,” remarked Mr. Dalken, briefly. The boys laughed and agreed with him.
“For instance, malaria caught while alligator hunting,” said Mrs. Fabian, because she had heard the men discussing the possibility of their tired feeling being the result of the swamp visit.
The game now opened and the girls were all eyes and interest to see the Panama team win, because Jack happened to know two of the players. Whether it was the knowledge that four pretty girls were seated in the Grand Stand watching, or whether it was their usual manner of pitching and batting, the fact remains that Bill and Bob were the champion members of the team that day, and carried away the honors.
After the game ended the two crack players changed their togs and reappeared in uniform. Jack met them and escorted them to meet Mr. Dalken’s party. Then Polly saw that Jack had not exaggerated one bit when he had declared his two friends to be decidedly good looking.
“My! They’re more than that, Poll,” whispered Eleanor, in breathless admiration. “I think Bill is just too dear for anything.”
Ray overheard her remark. He grinned teasingly and said: “It’s the uniform, my dear child! If Bob or Bill wore a bell boy’s uniform, they’d look just as good, but you wouldn’t think so.”
“Pooh! No such thing!” exclaimed Eleanor, shrugging her pretty shoulders at Ray.
“Well, here is Jack and here am I, and I’m sure we are not bad looking, yet you never said you thought me ‘too dear for anything,’” complained Ray.
“How could I speak an untruth?” retorted Eleanor, laughing.
“All right for you! I’ll spy upon you after this and when I find you enjoying a tête-à-tête with a ‘dear for anything boy’ I’ll spoil it – see if I don’t!” Ray threatened but the girls knew he cared not a fig whether they thought him handsome or not. He was all for a good time and that was the end of his ambitions.
“Ray, you don’t stand a ghost of a show in the running with Bill or Bob,” declared Jack. “Bill with his French Medal and Bob with his Decoration for Bravery simply put us out of sight when the girls are on hand to offer adulation at the shrines of these heroes.”
“Oh, Jack! Tell us – are the two baseball players great heroes of the late war?” exclaimed Mrs. Courtney, eagerly.
“There now! Didn’t I tell you so!” laughed Jack, winking at his chum. “Even the adult admirers forget we are on earth the moment one mentions Bill and Bob.”
“Please, oh, please, Jack, tell us the story of, what they did over there,” beseeched Polly.
“If I were to tell you that tale I’d spoil it in the telling. Better ask Bill and Bob to tell their own thrillers, – if you really want to hear something that will compare favorably with those hair-raising experiences on Grizzly Slide,” replied Jack, earnestly.
During this little side-gossip the two victors in the recent contest with the Colon players, were engaged in talking to Mr. Dalken. Now they turned and addressed Jack.
“Mr. Dalken wishes us to dine on the yacht, but we shall have to ask permission to do that. I only wish we had a pull with some one, in order to get several days off. Then we could show you about in great style!” Bill kept his eyes fixed upon Polly as he spoke, and any one might think he was addressing her only. Eleanor smiled, but she had failed to turn and look at Bill’s companion. It was Nancy and Ruth who had to smile now at the attentive manner in which Bob stared at pretty Eleanor, totally oblivious of the other girls in the party.
“Oh, Mr. Ainslee, Dalky here is the professional wire-puller of North America – didn’t you know that? I’m sure he can find a string that will work for you,” laughed Polly.
“Tell me the names of the officers in your regiment, Ainslee, and let me see if I know them,” added Mr. Dalken.
“There now! Didn’t I tell you he could work it?” laughed Polly, while the other members in the group also laughed at their host’s quick acceptance of the suggestion.
Having mentioned the various officers and spoken of their individual tendencies, Mr. Dalken smiled wisely. “Leave the whole matter to me, boys, and we will win out.”
“Tell us, Dalky! What can you do about tonight?” asked the girls eagerly.
“For to-night, I propose having all the officers and the two heroes of the ball game on the yacht to dinner. They cannot very well say no to Bill and Bob if they accept for themselves, can they?”
“Good gracious, Dalky! If you plan to have a dinner party it is high time we all ran away to prepare for the social event,” declared Mrs. Courtney. This was the first time she had ever used the familiar name the girls had given Mr. Dalken, but it did not escape Polly’s notice. She gave Eleanor a glance, but Eleanor had been too interested in learning the outcome of the proposition made by Mr. Dalken.
“I haven’t the slightest hope that our invitation will be accepted for this evening, as in all probability the officers have made other engagements for dinner. But it paves the way for me to urge them to give Bill and Bob leave of absence for to-night. Then I will invite the men who cannot come to-night, to come as soon as they can make the date. I believe I have a speaking acquaintance with the Colonel and I hope to improve our acquaintance while we stop here – then you girls ought to be able to make the most of this opportunity by winning a few days’ vacation for Bill and Bob.”
“Fine!” exclaimed Eleanor, clapping her hands. “Now you three men hurry away and see the Colonel.”
Bill and Bob looked at Mr. Dalken and, seeing he was willing to accompany them, they politely said good-afternoon to the other members in the party and stood ready to go.
“There may be strength in numbers, and we are glad to go with you,” hinted Jack, linking an arm in that of Ray and stepping up beside the host.
“As far as strength goes I always favor pretty girls for power when one has to use diplomacy and cunning,” laughed Mr. Dalken.
“Not in this case, however,” retorted Bill. “If our Colonel knew the danger we boys were running by volunteering to walk right up before the ammunition of beauty, he’d never let us out of his sight.”
“Ha! Mr. Ainslee discovered other things in France besides medals for bravery!” laughed Mrs. Courtney, shaking a playful finger at him.
“Medals! Who told you anything about medals?” asked Bill, with genuine amazement in his voice.
“A little bird whispered it at my ear,” laughed Mrs. Courtney teasingly.
“I know the bird! We always thought it was a raven over there – from the way he croaked whenever he had to eat army mess,” was the humorous reply from Bill.
Midst the general laugh at Jack’s expense which followed Bill’s speech, the men left and walked in the direction of the waiting automobile which had been placed at the ball-players’ disposal for the day.
Polly turned to her friends and said: “Oh, I’m sure Dalky will succeed in getting them off for a few days. I really believe Dalky can do anything!”
Eleanor glanced at Mrs. Courtney as Polly spoke, and caught a puzzling expression which had flashed over that lady’s face. In a moment, however, she was as inscrutable as ever she cared to appear.
“We may as well go into this shop and have a lemonade while we are waiting for the returns of the election,” suggested Mr. Ashby.
“Do you think it will take the boys very long to find the officer who can permit them to get off tonight?” asked Polly.
“I have an idea that Bill will know exactly where to find his superiors and not more than half an hour should elapse before they will come back,” returned Mr. Ashby, glancing at his watch.
“I was about to say – that we should have gone on to the yacht and dressed for to-night, if they are to be gone as long as that,” ventured Polly.
“I tell you what we might do!” cried Eleanor, plumping her glass upon the marble slab with such emphasis that the lemonade spattered up and over her hands. “Leave Mr. Fabian and Mr. Ashby at this corner so the others can see them upon their return, and we ladies go on to the yacht and touch up for the evening’s fray.”
“That’s just what I was about to say,” added Mrs. Courtney.
“Where’s the fray? You ladies never thought the superior faction of this yachting party worthy of captivation before,” remarked Mr. Fabian cynically, albeit he smiled.
“I should say not! Two old married fogies, two harum-scarum boys, and a grass-widower!” exclaimed Nancy Fabian.
A general laugh rewarded Nancy’s retort, and Mr. Ashby held up both hands in a helpless manner. “Oh, for pity’s sake, go – GO and touch up for the young men, or Fabian and I shall have to crawl under the soda fountain to escape your wit!”
The girls started up at that and the ladies followed laughingly; soon they were out of sight on their way to the White Crest and an elaborate toilette for the dinner party that night.
“Some one ought to let the chef know Dalky expects to bring back guests for dinner,” ventured Polly to Mrs. Courtney.
“I think orders have been given,” replied she in a quiet tone.
“Why! How did Dalky know we expected to meet the boys whom Jack and Ray knew in France?” asked Polly, in astonishment.
“He didn’t. But he did say that he thought it would be very pleasant to have us meet the officers of the Post stationed at the Canal. It was his intention to invite them to dine at their first opportunity. Hence he left orders for the chef to prepare for extra plates every evening while we are here,” explained Mrs. Courtney.
“Oh, that will be fine!” exclaimed Polly, but Eleanor wondered if Mrs. Fabian and Mrs. Ashby, as well as Mrs. Courtney, knew of this arrangement.
Long before the females in the party came from their rooms robed in such becoming gowns as would distract any young man who, because of army discipline, had not had many opportunities to enjoy society, the men came on board and, by the hilarious manner of their conversation, suggested that apparently they had celebrated the victory of the Army baseball players in a social drink of native wine. But this was not the case. Sheer exuberance of spirits, natural not fermented, made the four boys who had known each other in France, bubble over and sparkle with wit and fun.
Mr. Dalken invited Bill and Bob to amuse themselves on deck while he and his male guests retired and dressed for dinner. Hence the two young men were lounging in the great reed chairs when Polly and Eleanor appeared. There was no time for a little flirtation, however, as Mrs. Courtney came out, looking magnificent in an American Beauty georgette gown, with her diamond neck-band and pendant earrings sparkling from throat and ears. Polly gazed in appreciative admiration at the combination of dark wavy hair, high-colored complexion, and brilliant brown eyes, with the rich crimson of the dress and the cold white of the diamonds.
Soon after this the other ladies joined the group on deck and finally the men came forth in their somber black dinner coats and immaculate white collars and cuffs. Jack came puffing and fanning himself with his handkerchief.
“Well, you girls ought to pay us a tribute for willingly going to the torture chair to-night. Stiff collars and heavy cloth coats on a torrid night as this in the Canal Zone!”
“Nobody asked you to!” retorted Eleanor.
“Maybe not, but we knew what we would get if we appeared in the lists, with our friends here in their uniform, and the rest of us in our tropical togs,” returned Jack.
“Oh, then it is mere pride that drove you to the deed?” asked Polly.
“No, it was desperate fear!” exclaimed Ray. “What chance would we stand with a bevy of wonderful orchids and two dazzling hummingbirds – meaning Bill and Bob, of course, – if we looked like sparrows from the city streets?”
Every one laughed. “Orchids are too good to be forgotten,” added Polly; “every time I see an orchid hereafter I shall remember that, for once in my lifetime, I was compared to the rare and beautiful flower.”
“Rare in New York, perhaps, but anything but rare down here!” retorted Jack.
“Oh, pshaw! Why spoil such a lovely compliment with the truth,” remonstrated Mrs. Courtney.
The constant teasing and darts of wit between Jack and Ray on the one side and Polly and Eleanor on the other, had been one source of amusement and perpetual fun for the tourists in Mr. Dalken’s party, and now that Bill and Bob had joined the others on deck that night, the quick repartee seemed tossed back and forth like a tennis ball between clever players.
A man servant now came over to announce dinner, and then, for the first time, Polly realized that the officers who were to be invited to dinner had not appeared.
“Where is the Colonel, Dalky?” asked she, wonderingly.
“Couldn’t find him anywhere, but I secured the acceptance of the other officers for dinner to-morrow night,” explained he.
“You did more than that, Dalky!” declared Jack, with a delighted glance at Bill and Bob. “You got the boys three days’ leave while we are stationed here.”
“Oh, really! Goody, goody!” cried several young voices in a chorus of joy.
“And an invitation for all to attend the usual weekly hop to-morrow night, but I can’t see for the life of me how any one can dance with the thermometer pushing the top of the mercury out of the tube,” grumbled Jack.
“Listen to him! Any one would think he isn’t the maddest one of the group when dancing is to be had!” laughed Mr. Dalken.
After finishing the first course, the host turned to his two new guests and said: “We are on the griddle for the tale of your experiences in France, boys. I know the girls have had difficulty in curbing their feminine curiosity to hear of your exploits.”
Both young men flushed, but Bob managed to say: “Bill, here, is the crack story-teller. I always take a back seat when he is on hand to do the honors for both.”
Therefore Bill was deluged with demands for the story, and having cleared his throat in a self-conscious way, he began.
But his preparations were ruined at that moment, when the Belgian lad on the yacht, now unexpectedly introduced a diversion. He had approached with a laden tray, in order to assist the man servant who had charge of the dinner party, but when he saw the two young men in uniform, he immediately sat the tray upon the floor and ran over to fall upon Bill’s neck.
CHAPTER XII – THE TALE TOLD BY THE BELGIAN
“Agh, mine goot savior! Mine beeg fine frent! I feel so full to choy dat I must cry!” The Belgian acted exactly like an overjoyed mastiff when his master returns from a long absence.
“Why, Johann! This is a surprise,” cried Bob, rising from his chair and joining Bill who still remained pinned in the arms of the happy foreigner.
The others in the party at the dinner table watched with amazement as the little tableaux came to a finish.
