Nevertheless,
all voted the meal excellent, perhaps due to the
appetites developed by long delay and open air. During
the afternoon, still showery, the members of the
quartette evinced their individual tastes. Adelaide
wandered about and finally succeeded in chopping off
two pieces of firewood. Walt fixed and refixed his
tent and bed, Billy sketched and bedeviled everybody,
and Prof tended fire and dried out clothes, scorching
the bottom of one shirt and the foot of one stocking.
Supper found the party somewhat depressed but refusing
to admit it. After a light meal, for campers! we
retired. The night was hot and still with occasional
showers and misty moonlight. Adelaide and Walter made
out pretty well, but Billy and Prof had a poor night,
the latter driven first into a small corner of the
canoe and finally out-of-doors by Billy's antics and
the heat!
Wednesday, Aug.
29th
Morning broke at last,
however, with gray unbroken sky and rain, persistent
but not very heavy. Breakfast was accomplished without
much trouble and then the campers occupied themselves
with various avocations, coming together occasionally
to discuss weather signs and buoy up hopes for the
future.
Adelaide and Walter paddled
over to the gushing spring in the sand beach for a
supply of fresh water and foregathered with some
natives. One of the latter, a crabber, foretold a
clearing "blow" at about two o'clock, but the "blow"
did not occur, and, although the rain ceased the skies
refused to clear. Prof cut firewood and Billy assisted
by felling a dead red cedar and cutting it up for a
fragrant camp-fire after supper. Billy also
manufactured a cedar bow and provided with an arrow
amused himself and endangered camp equipment and
companions. A trip to the von Schwerdtners was
proposed -- Adelaide had set her mind on roast corn --
but Prof declared himself too tired after lack of rest
last night to undertake the trip, so it was
abandoned.
During the day Walt and Prof
shaved and were pronounced much improved in beauty.
Late in the afternoon we all took a swim -- a very
brief one for the day was cheerless. After the swim,
Billy rounded up four white China ducks from St.
Helena and drove them along the beach toward camp, but
failed to induce them to surmount a log lying in the
way. We had a New England supper of pork, beans, and
brown bread, "topped off" with fig pudding and hot
drinks.
While this agreeable process
was taking place, the clouds broke and the rose tints
of sunset still further cheered the voyagers' hearts.
It grew rapidly cooler and the quartette prepared for
a good night's sleep. Billy and Prof rearranged their
sleeping quarters to pack themselves away after the
manner of sardines in a box. But in the midst of
cheerful thoughts and anticipations, while Prof was
ensconced in the canoe tent giving a final touch to
his bed, alas! down came the rain again in a sharp,
though brief, shower. When it was over Walt and Billy
went to bed, while Adelaide and Prof sat for a time by
the brightly blazing cedar fire until Prof had
finished his coffee and cigarette.
Then they, too, sought repose
as the stars came out, and happily found it -- at
least the Prof did -- no mosquitoes, no kicks from
Billy, and so cool an air that blankets were necessary
for comfort. In the night the Prof heard the hoot of a
horned or barred owl and Adelaide saw a muskrat making
an examination of our camp.
Thursday, Aug.
30th
The campers woke to a strange
experience -- to wit, the sunshine gilding beach,
tents, and last night's raindrops. Everyone turned out
readily -- the Philadelphians first this morning, and
it-ho! for breakfast and a new start up the river.
Packing occupied some time and the accumulated
moisture in the atmosphere took Old Sol and the West
Wind two or three hours to clear away in grey misty
masses.
But when duffel was stowed and
we were at last upon our way, the clouds gradually
disappeared and blue sky and bright sunshine enlivened
the moving picture of wooded shore, sandy point, and
reddish bluff as we made our way under paddle and sail
-- more paddle than sail today -- out into the Severn
and on northwestward. The two captains of the new
canoe could not agree as to the proper method of
sailing, but, as usual, Prof gave way to Billy, who
was steering, with the result that the Unka had a
nice, lazy paddle along shore and reached Valentine's
Creek some time before they appeared.
A search of the shores of the
creek revealed a fairly convenient and sightly camping
ground. Luncheon was eaten under the shade of a locust
and a pine with a water outlook each way. The
"Hikelite" and the tarpaulin were pitched and then
Adelaide and Walter departed in the Unka en route for
Severn Park and bread, fruit, and "Pet," while Billy
and Prof sketched, wrote up "log" and otherwise
employed themselves.
Among other things they
explored the headwaters of Valentine's Creek and made
way with difficulty through masses of waterweed. Prof
thought he saw ahead a marsh wren's nest and Billy was
determined to see it close at hand. When the boat
would advance no farther into the weeds and mud under
paddle, he kindly offered to tow it and before Prof
could check him, stepped overboard. Fortunately he
went one leg at a time for the forward leg met no
effective resistance and plunged full length into the
soft mire. Billy was only saved from combined drowning
and burial by clinging to the boat.
The trippers to Severna
returned with bread, rolls, "pet," and fruit. A swim
was followed by supper and all hands "turned in,"
chiefly to escape the attacks of hungry mosquitoes.
After the Prof was in the canoe tent Billy pushed the
boat off shore and pulled it into the rushes but
sideways to the shore. All were soon plunged into
dreamless sleep, but Billy and Prof awoke at midnight
to find their floating bed careened to an angle of
forty-five degrees. The tide had gone out! However, in
spite of the trying conditions, they managed to stow
themselves so as to fall asleep again.
Friday, Aug.
31st
The canoeists awoke to a misty
world, grass, leaves, tents dripping with dew and the
sun showing pale and ghostly through the clouds of
steam rising from both land and water. Billy and Prof
took a morning "dip," or rather "splash," inside the
barrier of uninviting weeds. After breakfast and the
usual packing the four turned their prows and thoughts
up the river for the final exploration of the
Severn.
From Valentine's Creek onward
the river is narrow with numerous bluffs and sand
banks where a peculiar variety of sand is or has been
excavated for glass or porcelain making. This part of
the river, too, is more generously provided with pines
and cedars and their picturesque forms and spicy odors
added a pleasing variety to the trip.
Passing Whitney's and Indian
Landing, the former provided with a cable ferry and
the latter adorned by several small islands, the party
reached the end of the river proper. Here between
acres of bright green wild oats we entered Severn
Run.
Severn Run proved both
interesting and charming. There was a good depth of
water although the stream was at times nearly choked
by the rank growth of reeds and wild oats. Twisting
and turning up the sinuous waterway, we caught
constantly changing views of the forest -- covered
higher banks to right and left. Flocks of red-winged
blackbirds rose chattering as we advanced; we scared
into spasms of flight the yellow-legged "quawks" and
occasionally a great blue heron rose on wide beating
wings or a muskrat splashed amid the rushes close
beside us. Once a bald headed eagle soared into the
blue, and several ospreys fled from us with shrill
protest.
Presently
the bushes grew higher, water loving trees appeared on
the bank, and leaving the broad marshes astern, we
entered the wooded alluvial region -- the pequoson, as
it is called about Chesapeake Bay. Here was lovely
play of lights and shadows, tangled vines draped the
trees in shining green mantles, graceful royal ferns
dip their fronds in the ever-flowing stream, dark blue
viburnum berries hung in masses, and here and there
gleamed, orange red, the seed clusters of the swamp
magnolia. For two miles or more we enjoyed this novel
canoeing and then reluctantly turned backward, warned
by the midday sun that we must retrace our steps, or
rather our strokes.
After reaching the river
again, we stopped on a diminutive island for lunch and
then again took to paddle and oar, making way steadily
though leisurely downward.
We stopped at Whitney's
landing and replenished our canteens with water from a
cool, clear spring overarched by dense foliage of
ferns and trees draped in shining masses of
greenbriar. Backward we went with the pleasant breeze
in our faces and the same glimpses of
cedar-accentuated points and pine-clad bluffs into
Round Bay and to our old camp site.
While Walter and Billy took a
swim from the Unka, Adelaide straightened out tent and
duffel and Prof collected wood and built supper fire.
Again we dallied over the evening meal under the low
drooping chestnut oaks as the evening shadows deepened
and went to bed under the peeping stars, tired but
happy.
