VII

AN ADVENTURE AT THE MILL

When Frank returned to the house from the riverside he saw Beechnut opening the big barn doors. "Are you going away anywhere?" asked Frank.

"Yes," replied Beechnut, "I am going to the mill."

"May I go with you?" said Frank.

Beechnut had a great many bags of grain to carry, and the roads were bad. He thought at first that his load would be quite heavy enough for the horse without Frank. Then, too, he was going in a wagon, for the roads were bare in many places so that a sleigh would not run well, and he was afraid if the load was too heavy the wagon might upset. However, Frank did not weigh enough to make much difference, and as he evidently wished to go very much, Beechnut gave assent.

"And may I take my fishpole?" said Frank. "The ice must have broken up below the mill, and perhaps I can catch a pickerel while the grist is grinding. May I take it?"

"No," said Beechnut.

"Why not?" asked Frank.

"I will tell you why not as we go along on the way," responded Beechnut.

Frank went into the house and put on his coat, and then passed out through the shed into the barn. He found Beechnut hitching the horse to the wagon. Frank immediately began to help hook the traces and buckle the straps, and then he did what he could to aid Beechnut in putting on the heavy bags of grain. When all was ready, the two boys took their seats on the top of the bags and rode out of the barn.

As soon as they were fairly on the road, Frank took a fishline from his pocket and looked it over to see if it was in good order.

"I told you that you must not bring your fishline," said Beechnut.

"No," responded Frank, "you said my pole. That was what I asked about."

Beechnut laughed.

"And now tell me," said Frank, " why you would not let me bring my pole so as to fish while the grist is grinding."

"Because," said Beechnut, "I am not going to wait at the mill while the grist is grinding, to-day. I am coming right back."

The boys rode along steadily, though slowly, until they came to the mill. Frank was pleased to see that below the dam the water was almost entirely open for some distance. There was a path leading down to the stream, and when the wagon stopped, Frank jumped out and said that he was going down to the water to play till Beechnut was ready to start for home.

"Very well," said Beechnut, " only be careful."

Frank went down to the shore. The water was open in the middle of the stream between the dam and a bridge, not far below, and for some rods beyond. There was a great deal of ice, however, along the banks, and in one place a large and very thick cake of ice was lodged against the shore at a point of land which projected a little into the stream.

"I think that cake of ice is strong enough to bear me," said Frank to himself.

He took up a stone, half as large as his head, and swinging it with all his force he threw it out on the cake of ice. The stone came down with a crash, but did not break through. The ice was, in fact, nearly a foot thick.

"It is strong enough to bear twenty men," said Frank, and he stepped boldly on the ice cake and walked toward its outer edge.

In the meantime Beechnut had been taking the bags of grain from the wagon and carrying them into the mill. He had just finished this task when his attention was arrested by loud outcries from the stream. Frank was shouting as loudly as he could, and in a tone expressive of the utmost distress and terror.

Beechnut ran down the bank. The great cake of ice with Frank on it was slowly floating out into the stream. "I am sailing away!" cried Frank. "What shall I do? Come quick! Oh, come quick!"

"That is nothing," said Beechnut.

"What is nothing?" asked Frank.

"Why, sailing away on such a cake of ice as that. Push in to shore here and let me get on, too."

"But I can't push in to the shore," said Frank. "I have nothing to push with. I don't know how I shall ever get to land again. What shall I do?"

Beechnut knew very well that Frank could not push in to the shore. He simply wanted to show that he was not himself alarmed about Frank's situation. His words had the effect that he intended. Frank was at once relieved of his extreme terror, and yet he felt a great anxiety still.

Beechnut sat down on a rock near the edge of the water. The ice meanwhile bad floated slowly out into the stream and was moving toward the bridge.

"Oh, dear me," said Frank, "what shall I do?"

"There are plenty of ways of getting to the shore," replied Beechnut. "All you have to do is to choose which you think is best."

"What ways?" Frank asked.

"Well," said Beechnut, "the first way is for you to step off into the water and wade to the shore. It is not much deeper than your knees."

"O Beechnut!" said Frank, "it is up to my middle."

"Even if it is," responded Beechnut, "you can wade easily enough."

"But it is dreadfully cold," Frank objected. "What other way is there?"

"You can wait till you float down to the bridge," answered Beechnut," and when you are passing under you can seize hold of the timbers and climb to the roadway."

"No, I would not dare to do that," declared Frank.

"Then you can wait," said Beechnut, "till you have floated through the open water to the solid ice down the stream. It is not far." "I would not dare do that either," said Frank. "I could not get off my cake of ice. I should fall in among the loose pieces where the water is deeper than it is here."

"You might sail down on the ice as far as it goes," said Beechnut, "and stay there until I can get a boat and come and take you off."

"And how long would that be?" inquired Frank.

"Not more than half an hour, I think," Beechnut replied.

"Oh, I can't stay on the ice as long as that!" said Frank.

The ice was now turning slowly round and gradually advancing to where the current was more rapid. "O dear! O dear!" cried Frank, "I am going."

"Have you your fishline in your pocket?" said Beechnut.

"Yes," Frank replied.

So saying, he felt eagerly in his pocket and took out the line. "Here it is," said he.

"Throw it over to me," ordered Beechnut.

Frank threw the line, which was wound on a short stick, to the shore, and Beechnut picked it up. He immediately unwound it and broke it off from the stick. Then picking up a small stone from the beach he tied that to the end and tossed it over into the stream beyond the cake of ice.

"There," said Beechnut, "take up the line and hold on."

Frank did so, and Beechnut at the same time firmly grasped the shore end of the line.

 

"Now pull gently," said Beechnut.

Frank did as he had been directed, and Beechnut at his end of the line pulled gently, too. The ice soon began to feel the influence of the new force thus made to act on it and was brought gradually to land. As soon as the edge touched the shore Frank jumped off and was safe.

"Now," said Beechnut, "wind up the fish-line and come up to the wagon."

They presently had started for home, and as they were riding along Frank said that he did not see what made the cake of ice float away. "It rested on the shore," said he, "and I thought that my going on it would press it down more firmly and make it certain to stay where it was."

"But when you went toward the outer edge," said Beechnut, "your weight pressed that side down and lifted up the other side a little so as to loosen it from the shore, and that set it adrift."