THE BROWNIES BUILD
A RAFT

When King Stanislaus announced to the Brownies that they were to go at once to the rescue of Queen Titania he was confronted by a very serious problem. There was no craft of any kind whatever with which to embark upon so hazardous a voyage.

“This comes of unpreparedness,” growled the Sailor. “I’ve been trying to impress on His Majesty for years that we needed some battle-ships, cruisers, and submarines. Dash my top-lights if we’ve got even so much as an old mud-scow!”

Far off faintly outlined in the gathering dusk was a galleon with all sails spread which the favoring gales were bearing to Dragonfel’s enchanted country.

King Stanislaus realized the utter futility of trying to overtake it with another sailing-vessel even if they had been the possessors of one. Dragonfel and his confederates had too much the start of them.

The only recourse left was to follow as quickly as they could by whatever means were at hand, and, after they reached their destination, to try to wrest the unfortunate Titania and her companions from the cruel clutches of their abductors.

King Stanislaus had pledged his word to Florimel that before morning they would be in hot pursuit.

A raft to the monarch’s shrewd, quick-thinking mind seemed to be the easiest kind of a craft to construct in the short space of time to do it in order to redeem the royal promise. The wind was right, so that it would waft them straight to Dragonfel’s country, just as it was now taking the galleon which soon disappeared beyond the horizon.

In crisp, curt tones which showed that he, if anyone, was able to cope with this most distressing situation His Majesty gave orders for the immediate building of the raft.

Then came a hurrying and scurrying of Brownies. Each of the little fellows was eager to do his share of the gigantic task, and no one shirked.

Hither and yon, and all about, they flew, a band of willing workers, and no one got in another’s way, so no time was lost. Wisely enough the king assigned to each what he was best adapted to do, and there was no grumbling or cavilling at orders, but a strict obedience in all things. And, wherever such a spirit is manifested, it is surprising what results can be achieved.

The axes rang out sharp and clear in forests, and big trees toppled down to be stripped in a trice of their leafy branches. Sweating, puffing, grunting Brownies pulled and tugged and strained at the logs into which they were cut, and pushed and shoved, or rolled them when they could, toward the sea-shore.

Here, with their little jackets off, were many other Brownies hard at work, while the sound of big wooden mallets and iron sledges was heard unceasingly on all sides as in the busiest shipyard, while the logs were being nailed and spiked together.

Yet the raft was not composed entirely of logs, but of whatever else besides that came in handy.

Other members of the band were busy too in different ways. The Sailor came running with a long pole on his shoulder, and strung one after another on the pole were a number of round life-preservers that looked like huge doughnuts.

The commissary department was active too, and Brownies came with ample supplies of provisions for the voyage. They brought sacks of hard-tack and ship-biscuit, and when they laid them down and sat on them audacious rats ran helter-skelter Ship-bread out and scampered wildly off in all directions. Nothing was left undone, and when in the judgment of the Sailor it was about four bells the raft had taken marvelous shape and was ready to launch.

With the combined strength of all the band it was rolled down the sloping sand upon round logs until it slid gracefully into the water. Lanterns lit it at the corners, and in the centre on a long stick floated the Brownie flag.

Then all the Brownies clambered on board, and King Stanislaus gave the order to cast off the hawsers. The fairies, weeping yet hopeful of the success of the expedition, watched them from the shore.

But before some Brownies under the instructions of the Sailor could obey the mandate of the king Mignonette and Jassamine in wild disorder, and with their hair flying, came running toward them.

“The dove!” cried Mignonette. “You’ve forgotten Euphrosyne’s dove!”

Jassamine at the same time held up a cage in which the dove was perched on a stick.

“Euphrosyne told Queen Titania she was to send it to her if ever she was in danger from Dragonfel,” Mignonette made haste to explain.

“I don’t know whether we’ve got room to take it,” said King Stanislaus grudgingly. “Besides I think we’re able to manage this little business affair ourselves.”

“Remember, sire,” reminded the Policeman, “that Noah once sent out a dove.”

“Yes, I know,” said His Majesty, “but he’s hundreds of years behind the times.”

Still he did not interpose any objections when the Dude reached forth and grasped the cage, which he set upon the raft.

Then off they floated without further interruption, the Sailor and others poling them out through shallow waters till they could no longer touch bottom. There were no cheers to mark the departure, for the hearts of all were set with a stern purpose.

As they got farther and farther away the fairies still gazed at them, until someone said:

“Don’t watch them out of sight. It’s unlucky.”

The tide was ebb, and the wind continued steady and true, so that they made good progress. Some took their little jackets off to catch each puff of air. The shore-line finally disappeared from sight, and then the lights twinkling in the windows of Queen Titania’s palace.

At last they were so many miles from land that the Twins took frequent soundings with their lead, and the Sailor, who consulted his compass very often, growled to the watch:

“Keep a sharp look-out, you lubber!”

And their plans all would have gone well, and they would have reached Dragonfel’s enchanted country as they intended, if something entirely unexpected had not happened.

About six bells, as the Sailor reckoned, a sudden storm came up.

It was a terrible storm, the worst in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. The Sailor who was most weather-wise of all could not understand it. But Dragonfel could have done so had he wished, for the storm had been manufactured at his request by Vulcan, and it was just as good a sample of what could be done in a hurry as the Brownies’ raft.

Suddenly the sky grew black, and the stars were blotted out. Then almost instantly came a mighty rush and roar of wind, and the seas ran mountain-high.

“Avast, you lubbers!” roared the Sailor. “Take a reef in your shirts and jackets!”

Lightning lit up almost incessantly gloomy, frowning caverns in the clouds, and the peals of thunder were deafening. The rain poured down on them in sheets, but still the wind howled and raged with unabating fury, and they tossed up and down like a cockleshell.

In all the turmoil of alarm the frightened Chinaman lost his balance, and fell overboard, and a huge sea-serpent, with eyes of fire gleaming like electric lights above distended greedy, waiting jaws, rose up from out of the water, with its abnormally long body looking like a series of hoops.

The Uncle Sam Brownie threw out a life-preserver, but the Sailor with rare presence of mind grasped a boat-hook, and, skillfully hooking the end of the despairing Chinaman’s blouse, yanked him back on the raft before the monster could swallow him.

No craft however staunch could withstand such a gale, which grew and grew in violence.

The raft shivered and shook under its terrific strain, and there came pistol-like cracks at intervals as the wood splintered or broke apart, while nails and spikes flew up from the groaning, loosening timbers.

Slowly but surely the raft upon which the Brownies had exercised such ingenuity and skill was disintegrating, and the great danger of the band increased with each passing moment. And in the flashes of lightning that illumined the rumbling skies a huge bird with flapping wings suddenly swooped down, and, seizing the frightened Dude by his breeches-seat, bore him, dangling face downward, with his cherished cane still clutched in his hand, up, up, still up, till he was out of sight.

The others, all aghast, looked up at him until he disappeared, and wondered if they would ever see him again. And, while they wondered, with their own misfortune forgotten in this greater calamity that had come to their beloved companion, there was heard a crack louder than any that had gone before, and the raft went all at once to pieces.

Struggling in the water, or clinging to broken spars, logs, and pieces of timber, the Brownies suddenly found themselves gasping and choking as relentless waves rolled over them, at times submerging them.

This was the end, then, of their unfortunate adventure. There was nothing to cause even the slightest ray of hope. It looked as though all the Brownies would be lost.