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Title: The castaways
or, On the Florida reefs
Author: James Otis
Release date: September 11, 2026 [eBook #79552]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: A. L. Burt, 1888
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79552
Credits: Peter Becker, Shawn Carraher and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASTAWAYS ***
[Illustration: +Ben held the oars while Jake poised the spear for a
cast.+
--[See page 42.]
]
THE CASTAWAYS;
OR,
+On the Florida Reefs+.
+By+ JAMES OTIS,
_Author of_
“Toby Tyler,” “Tim and Tip,” “Mr. Stubbs’ Brother,” “Left Behind,”
“Raising the Pearl,” “Silent Pete,” etc.
ILLUSTRATED.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK:
A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER.
+Copyright 1888, by A. L. Burt.+
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I. 5
ON BOARD THE SEA QUEEN.
CHAPTER II. 14
A CONSULTATION.
CHAPTER III. 24
A QUACK DOCTOR.
CHAPTER IV. 34
AN ILL-TIMED EXCURSION.
CHAPTER V. 46
THE DRIFTING HULK.
CHAPTER VI. 55
ON THE SIMOON.
CHAPTER VII. 64
THE REEF.
CHAPTER VIII. 72
ON THE KEY.
CHAPTER IX. 81
A MIDNIGHT VISITOR.
CHAPTER X. 89
THE ISLAND SPECTER.
CHAPTER XI. 98
CATCHING THE GHOST.
CHAPTER XII. 106
AFTER THE NORTHER.
CHAPTER XIII. 114
A SINGULAR COINCIDENCE.
CHAPTER XIV. 124
AN OLD FRIEND.
CHAPTER XV. 134
THE FATE OF THE SEA QUEEN.
CHAPTER XVI. 144
ADIEU TO CONTENT KEY.
CHAPTER XVII. 153
A HEAD WIND.
CHAPTER XVIII. 162
AT KEY WEST.
CHAPTER XIX. 171
DESPERATE MEASURES.
CHAPTER XX. 180
FUGITIVES.
CHAPTER XXI. 190
AN OPPORTUNE ARRIVAL.
CHAPTER XXII. 199
WAITING AND WATCHING.
CHAPTER XXIII. 208
A STERN CHASE.
CHAPTER XXIV. 217
JAKE’S STORY.
CHAPTER XXV. 224
A PLACE OF SAFETY.
CHAPTER XXVI. 236
AN UNDISPUTED DEPARTURE.
CHAPTER XXVII. 245
SALVAGE.
CHAPTER XXVIII. 252
THE SHORE ANCHORAGE.
THE PAW-PAW HUNT. 260
THE LEATHER HARNESS. 271
THE CASTAWAYS.
CHAPTER I.
ON BOARD THE SEA QUEEN.
The noisy, consequential-looking little tug-boat which came alongside
the big three-masted schooner Sea Queen, as she lay at the dock in
Brooklyn, puffed and panted as if nearly overcome by the fervent rays
of the August sun, while down her dingy smokestack ran tiny streams of
water like perspiration, causing the cook of the vessel to say to the
boy who was leaning over the rail by his side:
“I never see them little boats in hot weather without thinkin’ they
feel the heat jest like we do. It seems as if they breathe harder in
the summer, an’ kinder hate to do very much heavy work.”
“That one don’t act as if she felt very bad about towing us down the
bay, Jake,” the boy said, with a laugh, as he watched the little craft
which danced about on the swell caused by a passing steamer as if
bowing and courtesying to the deeply-laden schooner which required her
aid. “Perhaps she feels badly to think that she has got to come back
here when it is so warm, while we are going out to sea where it will be
cool.”
“Yes, we’ll find a breeze outside most likely that’ll prevent us from
bein’ actually baked,” the cook said thoughtfully, as he gazed at the
sailors lowering fenders, making hawsers fast, and otherwise getting
ready to avail themselves of the services of the tug. “You mustn’t
think, though, that we’re going to have it comfortable very long,
Benny, my boy, for this won’t seem much more’n a nice warm day compared
to the weather in Tampico. Whatever made Captain Irwin agree to the
charter is more’n I can figger out.”
“He said if he hadn’t taken command of this vessel perhaps he wouldn’t
have got a job for two or three months, and you know she was pretty
near loaded before we came aboard.”
“That’s what he said, I’ll admit,” the cook replied as, having assured
himself that the tug had been made fast in a proper manner, he gave his
individual attention to the boy. “But if I don’t want to swaller all he
says there ain’t anything in the shippin’ papers to make me do it, is
there, Ben Clark?”
“Of course you can suit yourself; but I wouldn’t like to believe he’d
tell a lie.”
“Now that’s jest the pint of the whole thing,” and Jake seated himself
on a coil of rope where the shadow of a belaying-pin fell directly
across his nose. “If I was brought up in the same town with Captain
Jack Irwin, if I used to go in swimmin’ with him, traded jack-knives,
had the mumps the same time he had, an’ let him catch my measles, then
I oughter know him better’n you do who hadn’t seen him a year ago.”
[Illustration: +Jake seated himself on a coil of rope and reasoned with
Ben Clark.+]
“That’s a fact.”
“Well this is how it stands. Captain Irwin is way up as a skipper. If
I was a ship-owner, I’d rather have him on board a vessel of mine than
any other four men I ever saw; but he won’t tell the truth when he’s
talkin’ about himself. To hear him you’d think he wasn’t anything
more’n a common, everyday captain; but I know him better, as I’ve got
a right to do, an’ I tell you he could a’ had his pick outer the ships
layin’ in this port if he’d only hung round long enough for folks to
get acquainted with him, an’ then we shouldn’t be bound for Mexico in
the summer.”
Ben looked relieved at thus learning that, according to the cook’s
ideas, deprecation of his own abilities was the only charge brought
against the captain, and he asked, as he gazed over the rail at the tug
which was laying quietly alongside, much as if resting after her severe
exertions:
“Why don’t we start, Jake? The schooner is ready to leave, an’ the
captain went ashore most an hour ago.”
“I ’spose he’s up at the owner’s office. The mate told me we were goin’
to have some passengers, so I must be cookin’ all the time to satisfy
’em. There’s no use in talkin’; I do hate to be aboard a vessel where
there are a lot of swells snoopin’ round askin’ why this thing ain’t
served in this way or that. It may pay the owners, but it’s awful
wearin’ on the cook.”
“But perhaps these passengers ain’t very fussy, an’ you won’t have any
more to do than if they wasn’t on board.”
“Don’t believe yourself, my boy. They’ll be jest like all the rest, an’
after they get over bein’ sick you’ll think they own the schooner an’
all the cargo.”
“Do you suppose there will be many?” Ben asked, a look of alarm
overspreading his face.
“I don’t know, an’ so far as I’m concerned it don’t make very much
difference, for one will be the same trouble as a dozen.”
Jake sighed, broke a splinter from a stick of wood which lay on the
deck, and began chewing it with an expression of deepest sorrow on
his face. Fortunately for Ben’s peace of mind he knew there was not
nearly as much woe in the cook’s heart as one might suppose from
his countenance; it was a peculiarity of his to look sad because of
trifles, and, as Captain Irwin often said, “his greatest pleasure was
found in grief.”
It was not long, however, that either the man or the boy were left
to speculate as to the number of passengers which the Sea Queen was
to carry. In a very few moments after Jake had begun his lunch of
pine wood Captain Irwin came on the pier, and with him was a dark,
stern-looking man whose face was so nearly covered with whiskers that
little more than his eyes and nose could be seen; but these features
were sufficient, so Ben thought, to prove that he would be a very
disagreeable passenger. It was hardly fair for Master Clark to thus
form any opinion as to the gentleman’s character, for he had only
bestowed one brief glance upon the mass of hair, and had then given
his undivided attention to a little girl who was being led--one might
almost say being dragged along--by the stranger.
Even if the child had not been thus forced to walk toward the Sea
Queen, one would have said she was an unwilling passenger, because of
the timid glances which she cast from time to time at the schooner.
She was a pale, fragile-looking little thing, with big, brown eyes,
which Ben fancied were filled with tears, and a profusion of chestnut
hair, that would persist in falling in wavy tress or curl, despite all
attempts at confining it with ribbon or comb.
“There’s one passenger who won’t give you very much trouble, Jake,”
the boy said as he turned to look at the cook, whose grief appeared to
have suddenly departed.
“If them two are the only ones who are comin’ with us, we’ll get along
all right, pervidin’ the man is seasick from the time we cross the bar
till we sight the Mexican coast,” the cook replied in a tone of relief,
and then the new-comers were so near that any further conversation
would have been overheard.
Two trunks and several large boxes were wheeled onto the pier by
porters, who followed a short distance behind the captain and his
passengers, and in less than ten minutes from the time Ben caught the
first glimpse of the girl’s face, the Sea Queen was being escorted down
the bay by the panting, perspiring tug.
Ben Clark was nominally the cabin-boy of the schooner. Captain Irwin
had promised to care for him as he would for a son, giving him such an
education as should fit him for the position of ship-master after he
had served an apprenticeship as seaman. Therefore, he was a privileged
character on board; required to perform all the duties of captain’s
boy, but allowed to spend his leisure time as best pleased him. Yet
very far from being a sailor, and having been on shipboard but once
before, during a voyage from Savannah to New York, Master Clark found
plenty of amusement in all that was taking place. He saw the passengers
go into the cabin at the moment that the orders were given for getting
under way, and then he paid no further attention to the new-comers
until the novelty of sailing down the bay had in a measure passed away.
The machinery of the tug, which he could see from the schooner’s
deck, the maneuvers to thread the way in and out among the craft of
all kinds, with which the harbor appeared to be crowded, and the
rapidly moving panorama spread out before him, all served to enchain
his attention until after Staten Island had been left astern, when he
suddenly became aware that the most attractive of the two passengers
was standing close beside him.
“Do you belong on board this vessel?” she asked as the boy looked
toward her with something very like admiration in his eyes.
Ben hesitated, hardly knowing what reply to make. He had been on the
Sea Queen but a few days, and in that time his duties were so light,
while every one was so kind, that it seemed more as if he was a guest
than one of the crew.
“I s’pose I do,” he stammered, after a pause of such duration that the
girl began to look surprised. “I’m the cabin-boy; but Captain Irwin
says I’ll have to take my chances as a green hand on the next voyage.”
“Will we be a good many days going to Mexico?”
“Well, now, you see I don’t know anything about it,” Ben said as he
rubbed his chin in perplexity. “I never went to sea but once before,
and that was when poor little Jim an’ me got wrecked coming up from
Savannah.”
“Who is Jim?”
“He was my brother, an’ when mother died, after father got lost at sea,
I had to be kinder like a sister to him. Captain Irwin let us go to
New York in a vessel of his, ’cause I thought I could earn more money
there.”
“Where is he now?” the girl asked, laying her soft, white hand on Ben’s
brown fingers, as she saw the big tears rolling down his cheeks.
“The old lady who took care of him when he was sick said God had to
have more angels, so he died. I don’t know what I’d a’ done after
little Jim went away if the captain of this schooner hadn’t wanted me
to come with him, an’ I’m to go wherever he does until I’m old enough
an’ know enough to sail a vessel myself.”
“Is he kind to you?” the girl asked in a whisper, glancing around when
she spoke, much as if afraid that a third person might have heard the
question.
“Kind? Why, he’s as good as if I was a candy image. He did all he could
for Jim, an’ since the poor little chap was buried he bought me these
clothes, gave me a swell jack-knife, an’ two dollars in money. All I
have to do is help Jake an’ keep the cabin clean, an’ that don’t ’mount
to anything. Say, what’s your name?”
“Gertrude Morris.”
“I s’pose that was your father you came aboard with?”
“Indeed it wasn’t,” she replied indignantly and with a glance of
apprehension toward the cabin door. “My own papa died years and years
ago while I was a baby, and this man married my mother before I can
remember. I don’t think he was kind to her, for he went away ever so
long ago and didn’t come back even when she got sick and had to leave
me. Mrs. Martin let me live with her until last week, when he came to
New York and said he was going to take me to Mexico. I cried and cried,
until he shook me awfully, and then made me go with him to a dirty,
stuffy hotel over in Hoboken, where I had to stay till this morning. If
he had let go of my hand just for one little minute when we were coming
here, I’d have run away.”
“Is he ugly to you?” Ben whispered.
“He had a rope stretched across the room and made me try to walk on it.
I didn’t know how to, of course, and every time I fell off he whipped
me with a strap till--it--it----”
She could say no more, for the tears from her eyes seemed to have
gotten into her throat, and with her face pressed close to Ben’s hand
she sobbed and cried until her companion grew alarmed at the vehemence
of her grief. He tried to say something which would console her, but
the words refused to come at his bidding, and before he could do the
least thing to assure her of his sympathy, her step-father came out of
the cabin looking more disagreeable and ill-tempered than before, as he
called sharply:
“Gertrude! Instead of trying to excite the pity of the sailors by a
recital of your imaginary troubles, it would be better to go to your
state-room, for there will be so much motion to the vessel presently
that you will undoubtedly be sick.”
The child ceased crying the instant she heard his voice, and for a
moment Ben thought she was about to disobey this command, which had
been given under the cloak of advice. She brushed the tears from
her eyes quickly and turned as if to make some reply; but standing
irresolutely several seconds, she walked silently into the cabin, her
step-father following, after he had taken a long and deliberate survey
of the boy.
“You ought to have your head thumped; that’s what you are aching for,”
Ben said in a low but angry tone as he shook his fist threateningly
toward the cabin door. “I jest hope you’ll be sick before we cross the
bar, an’ that you can’t so much as lift your finger till the voyage is
ended. Poor little girl! I wonder if Jake an’ me can’t manage to get
her clear of that old heathen? I’ll jest tell him the whole story an’
see what he says.”
CHAPTER II.
A CONSULTATION.
Jake was in the galley making preparations for dinner when Ben entered,
and he was trying to do so many things at the same time that it surely
seemed as if it would be out of the question for him to give proper
attention to even the most simple proposition. Bread-making was
apparently the important one of his varied duties, for he continued
to knead the dough some time after one of the pots on the range had
protested against his neglect by allowing a portion of its contents to
boil over with an angry hiss and smother of steam.
Ben was too much excited by the brief story Gertrude had told to be
willing to wait until a more convenient season before asking the cook’s
advice. While Jake worked he repeated what he had heard, adding many
comments of his own, until, before he concluded the brief recital, the
bread-maker had paused with his arms in the flour to the elbows and an
expression of mingled anger and pity on his face.
“I’ve heard of people trainin’ children to walk on a tight-rope an’ all
them monkey shines, but I never more’n half-believed such yarns till
now. There’s one blessed thing though, which is that Mr. Whiskers won’t
rig anything here for that poor little girl to fall from, for Captain
Jack Irwin ain’t the kind of a man to allow such capers.”
“But he can do whatever he pleases when we get to Mexico, Jake, and
that’s what we ought to look out for.”
“I declare, I don’t see how it can be done, my boy,” and Jake leaned
over the bread-pan, wholly oblivious of the many half-cooked articles
of food which required his attention. The dough was allowed to mix
itself with more flour than was consistent with lightness, the pots
and pans seemed bent on a regular boycott of their contents, and the
passengers and crew of the Sea Queen were in great danger of being
deprived of their dinner owing to the very deep study into which the
cook had so suddenly been plunged.
“Why not tell Captain Irwin all about it and get him to take the little
girl away from that man?”
“It would be a ticklish kind of business, ’cause you see he’s her
step-father, even if she don’t call him so, an’ could put the law right
onto anybody who tried to take her away.”
“But you don’t mean to say that you sha’n’t do anything toward helping
the poor little thing?” Ben cried excitedly.
“Of course not. We’ve got plenty of time to fix up some sort of a plan,
an’ he won’t dare be very rough to her while he’s on board. Bless my
eyes! Here’s this dinner pretty nigh spoiled on account of my yarnin’
with you. Get aft where you belong, an’ I’ll see you again to-night.”
From the conflict that was going on between the water which was boiling
over from the kettles, and the fire, it was easy for Ben to understand
that it would be to the advantage of all on board, so far as dinner was
concerned, if the cook was left alone for a while, therefore he went
aft as Jake had requested.
The Sea Queen was now well down in the lower bay, rising and falling
on the gentle swell as if practising that she might be ready to
dance on the boisterous waves of the ocean just beyond. The sailors
were loosing, hoisting and sheeting home the canvas preparatory to
dispensing with the services of the tug, and on both steamer and
schooner Ben found quite as much confusion, although of a different
kind, as he had left in the galley. No one paid any attention to him,
and not until Jake called to remind him it was time to be laying the
cabin-table for dinner, did he even so much as think of his work.
He had expected to see Gertrude on deck when her step-father came out
of the cabin about ten minutes after the consultation with Jake was
brought to a close; but she did not appear until he knocked on the door
to announce that dinner was ready.
While Ben was waiting upon the table he had many opportunities of
exchanging glances with the little girl who had succeeded so well in
enlisting his sympathies, and it pleased him wonderfully, because she
seemed to consider him her friend. He was decidedly puzzled before the
meal was finished by hearing Captain Irwin address the man as “Dr.
Harlan,” and he could not understand how it was that Gertrude did not
bear the same name as her step-father.
By the time he had taken away the dishes and set the cabin to rights,
he no longer cared to speculate upon any question, for the Sea Queen,
having parted company with the tug, was climbing up one wave and
sliding down another in a manner that made him feel very uncomfortable
in the region of the stomach.
“I can’t stay in the cabin any longer,” he said in reply to a question
of the cook’s, as he sat on the deck with his back against the galley,
his white face telling quite as plainly as words could have done, of
the very disagreeable sensations which were rapidly overpowering him.
“I feel just the same as I did that first night Jim an’ me were on
board the Clitie.”
“You’ll get over it quicker than you did then,” Jake said consolingly.
“These short seas make the old hooker jump around pretty lively, an’
she has shaken you up a bit, that’s all. I’ll look out for things aft,
an’ you do whatever you think will make you feel the most comfortable.”
Then Ben gave himself wholly up to the malady which was assailing him,
paying no attention to anything save his own discomfort for nearly two
hours, when Jake, who had not come out of the cabin, said:
“There’s one good thing about all this bobbery, which is that Dr.
Harlan, as he calls hisself, is about as sick a man as I ever heard of.
He’s goin’ on dreadful in his state-room, an’ I hope he’ll keep so till
we bring up in the gulf. The little girl is as chipper as a sparrer;
she’s alongside of Bill Barlow, who’s takin’ his trick at the wheel,
her brown hair a-flyin’ an’ her eyes a-sparklin’ like a Mother Carey’s
chicken enjoyin’ the tumble.”
Ben had been so deeply occupied with the disagreeable affair which had
prevented him from performing his duties as cabin-boy, that he had
given no heed to anything around him until Jake made this last remark,
and then it was with a feeling very nearly like shame that he looked
aft at Gertie, who was apparently extracting a great deal of enjoyment
from that which so distressed him. He understood that his present
appearance was hardly calculated to give the idea that he could aid her
in escaping from the life which her step-father evidently intended
she should lead, and as he had fully made up his mind he would be her
protector, it was necessary to assume a more dignified air and position.
“If she ain’t sick I don’t see why I should be when I’ve been on
vessels a good deal more’n she has,” he said, as he staggered to his
feet, catching hold of the mainstay to prevent himself from falling.
“Well, you see, there’s a difference in people,” Jake said in a
philosophic tone. “I reckon you’ll get your sea-legs on right quick
if you move around a bit, an’ the best thing you can do is to go aft
an’ talk with her. You’ll feel well enough if you keep your mind away
from your stomach, for its only when the two get chumming together that
folks are sick.”
Ben did not understand this line of argument; but he went aft, impelled
to do so by pride rather than the cook’s advice.
“Look pleasant or she’ll think you’re dyin’,” Jake said in a hoarse
whisper, when the cabin-boy crept slowly along, clinging to the rail,
as if fearing he might be thrown overboard, and the latter did his best
to act upon the suggestion by wrinkling his face into that which he
hoped would resemble a smile.
“Why, what’s the matter?” Gertie asked solicitously, as she left the
helmsman’s side to aid her disconsolate-looking friend.
“I--I--you see I’m not feeling very well,” Ben managed to say after
many a gasp and inward shudder. “I don’t think it’s nice to have the
vessel jump around so, do you?”
“It seems perfectly splendid. Does it make you sick?”
“Well--I--yes, just a little,” and Ben clutched the rail yet more
frantically as the Sea Queen’s bow divided a huge wave which sent the
spray in showers over the weather side.
“But I thought sailors never got that way,” Gertie said in surprise.
“I don’t ’spose they do, but you see I’m not a whole one yet. After
we get back from Mexico I guess I won’t mind these kind of waves any
more’n Jake does. Ain’t you feeling bad a little bit?”
“Not the same as you do. If it was Mrs. Martin I was going away with
I’d be as happy as a bird; but when I think of what he will make me do
after we leave this vessel, it seems as if I oughtn’t ever laugh.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Ben said as he tried very hard to appear
brave, but succeeded only in looking as if he was growing more ill.
“Jake will help me, an’ we’ll find some way to keep him from makin’ you
walk on a rope.”
“I’m afraid you can’t,” she replied with a sigh. “You don’t know how
cruel and strong he is.”
“We’ll fix it somehow,” Ben said confidently; and then, in answer to
her questions, he told of his life in Savannah, of little Jim, toward
whom he had tried to act the part of sister, as well as of the plans
he had formed for the future, until suddenly he became aware that the
nausea had departed, leaving him in a condition to attend to his duties
once more.
He was not one who would willingly neglect his work, and knowing he was
surely needed in the galley if not in the cabin, went forward, after
assuring Gertie that with Jake’s assistance he would devise some plan
to prevent Dr. Harlan from forcing her to become a tight-rope performer.
Before the second meal had been eaten, the deck of the Sea Queen was
neither a pleasant nor a comfortable place. The wind had increased in
force until Jake gravely told Ben that “there was danger the captain’s
whiskers would be carried away;” and every now and then the top of a
green wave would come rolling in over the bow as if determined to bury
the schooner.
As a matter of course, Gertie was obliged to remain below, and since
it was difficult to sit on the lockers which served as chairs, she had
gone directly to her state-room, thereby preventing Ben from holding
any conversation with her while attending to his duties in the cabin.
He could talk with Jake, however, and in a snug corner of the galley,
after the labors of the day were ended, the would-be protectors of Dr.
Harlan’s step-daughter tried to form some mutually agreeable plan of
action.
“I’ve been turnin’ this matter over in my mind all the afternoon,” Jake
said thoughtfully, when he had lighted his pipe and puffed vigorously
until he was confident the tobacco was well on fire, “but I can’t seem
to think of but one thing we could do, an’ even that depends on the way
the captain takes it.”
“Tell me about it,” and Ben pushed himself more closely into the corner
lest the violent tossing of the vessel should throw him forward onto
the stove.
“I don’t know as it’ll amount to anything, but here it is. You see the
schooner is to put into Key West, an’ we’ll likely be there two or
three days. Now, if you an’ me could make that blessed doctor think as
how as we was goin’ to stay a week or more, he might go pryin’ round
the island till we gave him the slip, an’ then we would carry the
little girl to the folks in New York.”
“If we only could do that!” Ben exclaimed, delighted with the
originality as well as the simplicity of the plan.
“There’s but one thing as stands in the way,” Jake replied with the air
of a man who feels that he could devise more brilliant schemes if the
necessity should arise.
“What is it?”
“The captain mightn’t be willin’ to leave a passenger what has paid his
fare.”
Ben’s face clouded as this flaw in the otherwise perfect plan was
pointed out by the originator, and his spirits fell as rapidly as they
had been raised. He felt quite positive that Captain Irwin would not
sail without his passengers, and already did he begin to despair of
being able to fulfil his promise.
“Howsomever,” Jake said, after a long and painful pause, “we don’t know
that he won’t do what we want, an’ we’ve got plenty of time to think up
some plan if this falls through, so the best thing we can do is to turn
in before the old hooker tumbles around so lively that we can’t get
over the side of our bunk.”
It was several days before Ben found an opportunity to have any further
conversation on the subject which was ever present in his mind. The
wind which the Sea Queen had met so soon after leaving port was
decidedly heavier than a summer breeze, and the schooner was tossed
about at such a violent rate on the angry waters, that the cabin-boy’s
time was so fully occupied as to preclude the possibility of anything
save the briefest interviews with Jake.
In the meantime Dr. Harlan had recovered sufficiently from his
indisposition to be able to spend the greater portion of each day in
the saloon, and to the surprise and disappointment of Ben, he insisted
that Gertie should remain with him, singing such songs as appeared to
strike his fancy.
“I can’t make it out at all,” Master Clark said on the afternoon of
the fifth day, when the gale had so nearly abated that it was pleasant
to be on deck. He was holding another consultation with Jake, and had
given a detailed account of how the passengers were employed.
“I reckon the captain knows all about it. He was in the galley late
last night while I was fixin’ up a lunch for him an’ the first mate,
an’ here’s what he told me he’d got from the man himself. This ’ere
doctor ain’t no doctor at all, but jest goes round selling quack
medicines--he’s got a whole raft of ’em on board now. He’s found out
that we’re likely to be in Key West some time, an’ he told Captain
Irwin as how he was goin’ on shore to see what he could do in the way
of business. Now, it’s my idea, an’ the mate thinks the same thing,
that he’s goin’ to take the girl with him so’s she can sing on the
street to attract a crowd--you can make up your mind that’s why he
wants to start her rope-walkin’. I’ve seen them kind of dodges lots
of times, an’ a pretty little thing like her would draw twice as many
people as ever he could.”
“He wouldn’t dare try to make her do anything like that!” Ben cried
indignantly; but even as he spoke it could easily be seen by the
expression of his face that he feared the cook had told the truth.
“Why shouldn’t he dare? Ain’t he her nateral guardian now her mother’s
dead, an’ can’t he make her do whatever he chooses?”
“But won’t Captain Irwin stop him?” Ben asked.
“How can he? He says he’d like to interfere, but it wouldn’t do any
good. Even if he could get her out of the scrape by goin’ to the
officers of the law, he can’t afford to keep the vessel layin’ idle.”
“Isn’t it possible for us to do something, Jake?”
“I’m afraid not, my boy. Even the chance of leavin’ the quack doctor
behind will be knocked in the head if he takes her on shore with him.”
“She’ll cry her eyes out if that has to be done. She’s scared of him
now, an’ what _will_ she do if she’s got to sing on the street? It
wouldn’t be so awfully jolly for a rough feller like me, an’ it’ll use
her all up.”
“I s’pose it will, but I don’t see how we can help her,” and Jake
returned to his work, while Ben, his heart full of grief because of
the suffering in store for his little friend, stood by the cabin-door
listening to the childish voice which even now sounded strained and
weary as it repeated again and again an air which the doctor probably
intended should be sung in public.
CHAPTER III.
A QUACK DOCTOR.
The wind storm which caused the Sea Queen to dance so violently about
to the discomfort of several on board, and more particularly the
cabin-boy, bore the schooner very swiftly toward her destination. On
the same evening that it began to subside into a well-behaved summer
breeze, the light on Alligator Reef was sighted, and Captain Irwin
confidently announced that the first half of the voyage would be ended
before the sun could set again.
During all these six days Ben had had no opportunity of holding any
extended conversation with Gertie. Several times while at work in the
cabin he was able to ask or answer a few questions by which he and,
through him, Jake learned that the so-called doctor was industriously
engaged in preparing her for those duties he intended she should
perform, excepting, of course, the tight-rope business; but she
evidently had no idea that she was to appear before the public of Key
West.
Ben hesitated about telling her what he and Jake believed she would be
forced to do, for there was a chance that Dr. Harlan would not oblige
her to begin the distasteful work until after arriving at Mexico,
and it would be cruel to distress her unnecessarily. That Gertie was
grieving sorely, Ben knew only too well; several times when they met
in the cabin her eyes were red, as from crying, and on one occasion
the boy found the opportunity to ask, in a cautious whisper, when the
doctor had gone in to his state-room for a moment:
“Has he been abusin’ you?”
“He hasn’t beat me, if that’s what you mean; but I know he would if I
didn’t obey him in everything. I can’t help crying, Ben, when I think
of being forced to leave everybody who loved me, and go away where I
won’t be liable even to talk with a soul except the man who was cruel
to my mother.”
Then the tears began to flow anew; but before Ben could whisper the
shortest word of comfort, the doctor re-entered the cabin, and Gertie
was summoned for another music lesson.
After this it was as if the cook and the cabin-boy could no longer
meet without holding at least a brief consultation as to what should
be done to aid the girl in whom they were both so deeply interested.
If it chanced that these two particular members of the crew came on
deck at the same time, a whispered conversation was certain to ensue,
and every evening they held what Bill Barlow called a “reg’lar caucus”
in the galley; but they had not succeeded in forming a plan which
could be carried into execution. It is true that Jake supplemented his
first scheme with several others equally original and, to his mind,
brilliant; but none of them found favor in Ben’s eyes.
When the Sea Queen, leaving behind the key with the charming name of
Eastern Sambo, entered the main channel and dropped anchor in Key West
harbor, the conspirators were yet undecided as to what course of action
they should pursue. While nearing the port Ben had tried persistently
but unsuccessfully to speak with Gertie. It seemed very much as if
Dr. Harlan feared that some attempt might be made to interfere with
his plans, for he did not allow the girl to move from his side during
the day that the schooner was skirting the keys; and when about an
hour after sunset the heavily laden craft swung to her moorings, he
peremptorily ordered her to retire.
“It’s no use. I can’t get so much as a chance to grin at her without
that doctor’s pokin’ his nose ’round her ear to see what I’m up to,”
Ben said in a disconsolate tone as he entered the galley, after
having remained on the quarter-deck or in the cabin during the entire
afternoon. “I don’t see how we can do the least thing toward helping
her.”
“It’s got past me now,” Jake replied with a sigh as he began to mix up
the bread he intended to bake for breakfast. “It’s no manner of use to
ask Captain Jack to interfere, ’cause he jest the same as told me I’d
better mind my own business when I tried to talk to him about it last.”
“But must we let him march her off an’ not attempt to stop it?”
“I ’spose we could foller ’em an’ see that he didn’t give her a
downright beatin’, though I’d have to come back in time to get dinner.”
“Then let’s do it,” Ben cried excitedly. “That would be better’n
stayin’ here thinkin’ she was bein’ abused.”
“All right. You shinny around so as to get your work done in a hurry,
an’ we won’t be far behind that precious quack when he lands.”
Although Jake had no suggestion to make as to what they could do
in case Gertie was really ill-treated next morning, Ben felt more
relieved in mind than since he first had cause to believe she would be
obliged to go on shore, and when he clambered into his berth after the
interview was ended, it seemed to him as if he had already done very
much toward protecting the sad-faced little passenger.
That Dr. Harlan intended to meet the medicine-loving public of Key West
at the earliest possible moment, was shown by his eagerness to reach
the shore immediately after breakfast had been served. He had all the
paraphernalia of his peculiar calling on deck before the sun looked
over the horizon at the low-lying islands which the busy toilers in the
sea had built, and thanks to the reward promised the sailors in case he
was set ashore without delay, the long-boat was in the water when he
came on deck after a hurried meal.
Gertie had made her preparations for landing, and was ready when the
doctor cried impatiently that he was waiting. She evidently had no
suspicion as to why he was so anxious to have her accompany him, but
thought she was to spend the day in sight-seeing, which would be a
decidedly pleasant relief from the monotony of practicing songs which
had no other accompaniment than her step-father’s tum, tum, tum upon
the table with his fingers.
The long-boat had been rowed to the shore and back again before Ben
finished his work, and he was in a painful state of anxiety lest it
should be impossible to find the medicine vender, but Jake’s words soon
dispelled his fears.
“Don’t you worry about that, my hearty,” the cook said consolingly.
“The town ain’t so big but that we can run ’em down in half an hour;
and beside, if you was ready to go ashore this blessed minute it
couldn’t be done till Captain Irwin wants to start. It’ll take that
quack quite a while to get his traps in workin’ order, an’ we’ll be
there in plenty of time to see the curtain rise on what the show people
call the first act.”
Jake was right, as Ben learned an hour later when they arrived at the
market-place, where an unusually large number of men had gathered and
were gazing curiously at a small but high platform which had just been
erected by three negroes. It had a red covering profusely bespangled,
and on it was a table with a yet more gaudy cloth bearing a quantity of
tiny boxes and bottles, while lying along the edge of the stage were
great numbers of what appeared to be human teeth.
During several moments Ben looked in vain for Gertie, and just as he
was beginning to hope that Dr. Harlan was not as heartless as had been
supposed, the quack appeared from the rear as he lifted the child upon
the platform. Her eyes were red, her lips quivering with suppressed
sobs, and she hung her head as if ashamed to look at the curious ones
who were pressing eagerly forward to learn what this exhibition was, in
which medicine and children took such prominent parts.
The sympathy in Ben’s heart was written plainly on his face, and he
clutched Jake’s hand nervously when the doctor pushed Gertie forward,
whispering hoarsely:
“Are you goin’ to stand still an’ let him do that?”
“I reckon we’ll have to, my lad, though it goes mightily agin the
grain. You see it’s jest as the captain says, we haven’t got any right
to interfere, an’ if we go to kickin’ up a row we’d soon find ourselves
in the calaboose.”
“I’d be willin’ to go most anywhere if I could knock him down once!”
Ben exclaimed savagely.
“I don’t want to get into any law scrape,” the cook replied slowly,
and at the same time vindictively, “but if I can’t manage to pour a
plate-full of hot soup down the back of his neck before this voyage is
ended, it’ll be because I don’t get a chance to make any.”
This threat had the effect of soothing Ben to such a degree of calmness
that he was able to watch quietly the movements of the two on the
platform, although his compressed lips and clinched hands told that any
very cruel act on the part of the doctor might cause an outbreak from
him.
It hardly seemed necessary for the quack to do anything more in order
to attract a crowd, for already were the idle people of the town
gathered in front of his gaudily decorated platform; but he evidently
intended to carry out the programme by way of rehearsal for his new
performer.
Gertie stood timid and shrinking at the very edge of the stage until
her step-father made a threatening gesture, at the same time he
whispered a few words which, from the expression on his face, Ben
believed to be a menace, and then she advanced slowly, singing in a
low, tremulous, but yet sweet voice one of the songs the crew of the
Sea Queen had so often heard her practicing.
“After seein’ him make that child stand up here before the riff-raff of
the town, I wouldn’t buy a bit of medicine from him if I was starvin’
to death,” Jake said angrily, and Ben squeezed the cook’s hand in token
of admiration of his sentiments.
When the song was concluded the doctor motioned Gertie to a seat on the
rear of the stage and then begun his work of announcing that he had
visited Key West in order to benefit its inhabitants, rather than for
any pecuniary gain to himself. In proof of this assertion, which was
received with a low murmur of incredulity from the crowd, he offered to
extract teeth free of charge for every person on the island, insisting
so strongly that there must be some one among the audience who was in
need of such service that a big, burly negro was finally induced to
present himself as a candidate for the quack’s kindly offices.
When the operation--evidently painful to the patient and amusing to
the spectators--was ended, the doctor proceeded to call attention to
the nostrums and pills on the table, declaring that each of them was a
specific for any disease from tic-douloureux to consumption. In fact,
according to his positive statement, it was necessary only to have a
dollar’s worth of these medicines in the house to ward off the attacks
of death in any form other than that of old age.
“He was comin’ it so strong one spell,” Jake said with a sigh of
relief, when the quack finally admitted that a person might possibly
cross the dark river even after purchasing his medicines, “I begun to
be afraid he’d swear his customers wouldn’t ever die. But don’t let’s
loaf ’round here any longer, Ben; he’s a reg’lar scamp, an’ it ain’t
creditable to a man to be listenin’ at what he says.”
“I don’t want to go away and leave Gertie alone,” the boy replied as he
held Jake more firmly by the hand. “It’s cruel to run off when we’re
the only friends she’s got here.”
“But she hasn’t seen you yet, an’ isn’t likely to while her precious
father has so many customers around. You might as well be on the
schooner, for there’s no chance he’ll mistreat her while he’s sellin’
his swindlin’ stuff.”
“It’ll make her feel better afterward if she knows we stayed. It seems
as if we ought to do that much for her.”
“Then I’ll leave you to keep lookout while I go on board, for it’s time
to be thinkin’ about gettin’ dinner. The schooner will be hauled into
the wharf before night, so you won’t have any trouble in findin’ her,
an’ I’ll see to the cabin work till you get back.”
Ben made no protest against this arrangement, for he knew it would be
useless, and Jake swung his short, bowed legs in half-circles as he
walked rapidly toward the wharf where the long-boat was moored.
When he was left alone Ben determined to try to speak with Gertie. She
was sitting on the rear of the platform, and her step-father was so
busily engaged with the credulous in front that there was but little
chance of interruption from him. To make his way around the outer
fringe of the crowd, unobserved by the quack, was not a difficult
matter, and when finally he stood before the child whom he was trying
to aid, if only by his presence, the look of joy and relief which came
over her face would have been reward enough if he had needed any.
“How glad; oh, how glad I am that you are here!” she exclaimed, as she
extended both hands until they touched his face. “How did you know
where to find me?”
“It wasn’t very hard work to do that, ’cause we could a’ walked over
the whole town in a little while. Jake an’ I was afraid the doctor was
goin’ to make you do something like this, so we came ashore as soon
after you did as we could.”
“Then you knew why he forced me to sing so much on the vessel?”
“Not exactly; we only thought so, an’ made up our minds to keep you in
sight till we found out for sure.”
“Isn’t it dreadful that he should make me do such things?” she cried
abruptly as an angry look came over her face. “I was terribly ashamed
to stand up before all these people, and I don’t think I could have
done it if he hadn’t threatened to whip me while every one was looking.”
“Did he talk like that?” Ben cried as he clinched his hands and a deep
flush appeared on his face.
“Indeed he did, and he swore at me. Oh, I can’t stay with him, I’m sure
I can’t! How I wish I had run away somewhere the day I first saw him!
Do you know,” and here she leaned over so that she might whisper in the
boy’s ear, “I believe I regularly hate him.”
“Of course you do,” Ben replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You couldn’t
help it, anyway. I only wish I was big enough to snap his head right
off, even if Captain Irwin does say we haven’t any business to
interfere.”
At this point the conversation was brought to an end. Having satisfied
their curiosity, fully half the spectators had walked away, and those
who remained were not disposed to make any further investment in
medicine, therefore the doctor believed it necessary to offer some more
potent attraction than his own voice.
“Come and sing to the gentlemen, Gertrude,” he said in what he
evidently intended should be a pleasant tone, and without turning his
head. “After that we will extract a few more teeth, and perhaps then
they will be better able to appreciate my invigorator.”
“Do what he tells you to,” Ben whispered, as Gertie hesitated. “You
must give in to him now; but before we get to Mexico Jake an’ I’ll
think up some way to pull you out of the scrape. Don’t get frightened,
’cause I’ll stand here all the time to see that he don’t hurt you.”
Gertie followed this very sensible advice, and while she was singing
Ben crouched under the edge of the platform vainly trying to form some
plan by which he might fulfil his promise.
CHAPTER IV.
AN ILL-TIMED EXCURSION.
A long, dreary time of waiting was it for Ben as he crouched behind the
platform lest the doctor should see and order him away; but whenever
he was disposed to yield to the fatigue which prompted him to return
to the schooner, he glanced at the pale face of Gertie on which was
written deep sorrow and an almost overpowering weariness, and self was
forgotten for her who seemed so entirely alone.
During such times as the quack had sufficient customers to keep him
busy, Gertie and Ben could talk unrestrainedly; but whenever he had a
few leisure moments, or there was a demand for a song, Master Clark
deemed it best to remain out of sight, and thus he played a tedious
game of hide-and-seek from early morning until nearly nine o’clock in
the evening. The doctor had not thought it necessary that either his
assistant or himself should have anything to eat, and, as a matter of
course, no food had passed Ben’s lips since that which he had partaken
of so early in the day.
The public appeared to be more hungry for medicine after sunset than
before, and just when Ben was thinking it was nearly midnight, Dr.
Harlan said to Gertie:
“The schooner must have been hauled in at one of the piers by this
time. If you think you can find her you may go now, for I shall stay
here a good while longer.”
The child hesitated; much as she wanted to be on board the Sea Queen,
out of sight of the crowd and beyond the sound of her step-father’s
disagreeable voice, she did not dare attempt to make her way in the
dark through the streets of a strange town alone. For the moment she
had forgotten that Ben was close at hand, and he reminded her of this
fact by stepping boldly in front of the doctor, as he said:
“I’ll show her the way to the Sea Queen.”
The quack looked scrutinizingly at the boy as if questioning whether he
had ever seen him, and then suddenly remembering his face, replied:
“Oh, you belong on board the schooner. Very well, take the child with
you, and see that she has something to eat before going to bed.”
Ben did not wait for anything more; he felt that he would be perfectly
happy had he been large enough to read with impunity the doctor a
severe lesson, with his treatment of a step-daughter as the text; but
that being out of the question, he did the next best thing, which was
to hurry her away from the red-covered platform and the glare of the
gasoline lamps as quickly as possible.
Once on the ground he clasped Gertie tightly by the hand and started
at a rapid pace in the direction where he supposed the schooner to
be lying; but before the two had gotten beyond the reflection of the
medicine vender’s lights, they heard the familiar voice of Jake,
shouting:
“Hold on, my hearties, while I take you in tow,” and as the cook
approached he asked, “Where are you bound?”
“To the schooner. Gertie couldn’t get away before, and I stayed with
her.”
“You’ll never fetch the Sea Queen steerin’ that course. She’s lyin’
down here a bit, an’ I was afraid you’d start wrong, so I come up to
set you right. Where did you get dinner?”
“We didn’t have any,” Ben replied emphatically. “That doctor kept right
on sellin’ his stuff an’ wouldn’t stop for anything.”
“Hasn’t the little girl had a bite to eat since morning?” Jake asked in
astonishment, as he halted suddenly and faced the children.
“Not a mouthful, an’ she’s had to sing as many as twenty times.”
“Well,” and the cook spoke in a determined tone as he turned that the
walk might be continued, “if Captain Irwin don’t give that quack a
piece of his mind I will, an’ he’ll understand what I say for a fact.
But come on; don’t stay here when you must be pretty near starved to
death. The fire is still goin’ in the galley, an’ I’ll give you a good
square supper if it takes all the stores aboard the schooner.”
Since Jake was the only one who was retarding the progress of the
party, it was not difficult to carry his suggestion into effect, and
he was so eager to arrive at the vessel that he insisted, despite her
protestations, on taking Gertie in his arms, thus bringing the walk to
a more speedy conclusion.
It was not until after the children had partaken of what seemed to
be a veritable feast, even though it was served on deck just outside
the galley door, that any lengthy conversation was held, owing to the
fact that both had fallen asleep almost before Jake began his culinary
operations. The food drove the slumber from their eyelids for the time
being, and once this had been effected, Ben’s thoughts immediately
returned to his desire to aid Gertie.
“Supposin’ she an’ I should run away an’ hide, would Captain Irwin stop
here for us when he comes back from Mexico?”
“He couldn’t promise for sure,” Jake replied thoughtfully, “for you see
he might get a charter that would prevent him from comin’ near this
place, an’ then agin I don’t reckon he’d listen to anything of the
kind. The doctor wouldn’t be very likely to go on with us if the girl
was missin’, an’ if he stayed behind he’d be sure to find her, ’cause
this is nothin’ but a small island that could be hunted over from one
end to another in a little while.”
“I’d risk his gettin’ a sight of us if we was once clear of him.”
“What would you eat, or where could you sleep? I tell you, Ben, things
look kinder blue just now for the little girl, but she might be a good
deal worse off if she should try to run away. At all events she won’t
have to sing in this town any more, for when I told Captain Jack what
her step-father was doin’, he said he’d put a stop to some of it by
sailin’ to-morrow noon, though he hadn’t intended to leave till the
next day. I’ve been thinkin’ that when we get to Tampico we could go to
the American consul, an’ perhaps he would do somethin’ to help her out
of the scrape.”
“Do you suppose he would send me back to Mrs. Martin?” Gertie asked
eagerly.
“I reckon he might. Ben an’ I could tell him the whole story, an’ it
seems to me as if he would contrive to straighten things out. I’ve
known of worse cases that were fixed up in proper shape by these ’ere
consuls.”
At this suggestion of the cook’s, the first he had made regarding the
matter which appeared at all feasible, both the children immediately
became excited, despite their extreme weariness. Ben had a dozen
questions to ask regarding the possible or probable duties of a consul,
and although Jake had very little positive knowledge on the subject, he
answered each one promptly, concluding by saying:
“You can both make up your minds the whole thing will be fixed jest as
soon as I tell the story, an’ perhaps Gertie will be sent back on this
same schooner. Now that we’ve settled the matter, s’posen we all turn
in an’ bottle up a little sleep while that precious quack of ours is
humbuggin’ the natives.”
This was another good suggestion, and Gertie went into her state-room
as Ben started for the forecastle, both thinking that the cook of the
Sea Queen was a very learned and able adviser.
On the following morning Dr. Harlan was ready for breakfast at an
unusually early hour, and Ben was beginning to fear that Gertie would
be obliged to go on shore again, when Captain Irwin said curtly:
“You will have just time to get your traps on board before we are ready
to cast off once more.”
“But, my dear sir,” the doctor replied in a tone of such evident
disappointment that the cabin-boy could with difficulty repress the
most extravagant demonstrations of pleasure, “I understood you to say
that we would remain here several days.”
“I have changed my mind since yesterday afternoon,” the captain replied
stiffly. “We have got a good wind with which to get out of the harbor,
and I want to take advantage of it before twelve o’clock.”
The doctor did not reply, but displayed no small amount of ill-temper
by finding fault with everything brought him for breakfast, and by
sending back first one article of food and then another to have it
prepared differently, until Jake flatly declared that “he’d be boiled
before he would fool around with the quack any longer.”
Captain Irwin was obliged to do a great deal of work which would
otherwise have been unnecessary, in order to leave the port that day,
and the cheerfulness with which he set about it showed how eager he was
to save Gertie the humiliation of aiding in the patent-medicine sales.
During the forenoon the doctor brought his baggage onto the pier, and
very sulky and disagreeable did he look. He called gruffly to Jake,
ordering him to aid in taking the goods on board, and the cook quite
as gruffly replied that he “shipped to look out for the grub, not the
freight;” which made the medicine-vender so angry that he threatened to
flog the captain of the galley, but his ire apparently expended itself
in words.
It was nearly two o’clock before the Sea Queen left the wharf, with the
doctor confined to his state-room by a severe attack of the sulks, and
the cabin-boy so happy that he found it almost impossible to remain in
one spot more than two minutes at a time. Out the northwest channel,
which is directly opposite the one by which she entered the port, the
schooner sailed with a wind which came in fitful gusts, and before
midnight she was lying becalmed about five miles north of the Marquesas
Keys. So far as arriving at her destination was concerned it would have
been quite as well if she had remained at the pier in Key West, and Dr.
Harlan’s temper would have been in a much more satisfactory condition.
When the passengers came on deck the next morning, they found the Sea
Queen rocking lazily on the long swell of the ocean, her canvas hanging
idly to the spars, with not sufficient wind to lift the tiny thread of
blue which acted as a vane on the main topmast. Although the sun had
but just shown himself above the horizon, the air was so sultry as to
make even respiration seem difficult, and the glare from the water was
painfully dazzling. The awnings were spread over the quarter-deck, but
the shade thus afforded could not protect against the intense heat, and
from the captain to the cabin-boy every one felt thoroughly enervated.
As a matter of course, Jake was cooking breakfast, but he moved in a
listless manner, glancing from time to time at those who were lounging
aft as if reproaching them for being the cause of his standing over a
fire on such a morning.
Until four o’clock in the afternoon nothing could be seen on the glassy
surface of the water, and then Jake, who was smoking on the shady side
of the caboose, called Ben from the companion-way to look at a small,
round object floating about half a mile from the schooner.
“What is it?” the boy asked, feeling rather disappointed because that
which the cook pointed out was apparently so uninteresting.
“A turtle, an’ a good-sized one, too. He’s asleep, an’ it wouldn’t be a
hard job for any one as knows how to add him to the passenger list of
this ’ere schooner.”
Nothing more was required to plunge Ben into the highest state of
excitement. He was no longer conscious of the heat, so great was his
desire to catch a turtle, and as he ran toward the rail in order to get
a better view, he cried:
“Let’s try to get him, Jake. I can pull the small boat, and it wouldn’t
take two minutes to launch it.”
Jake looked around with the air of one who is willing to oblige a
friend in case it can be done without too much exertion, and then he
replied:
“If you’ll ask the captain to let us have the boat, I don’t know but
I’m willin’ to go, pervidin’ I can find my turtle-spear.”
Ben had no fear but that the weapon could readily be found, and in a
few seconds he had received the desired permission. The captain was
very fond of turtle-soup, and since it seemed probable that the Sea
Queen would remain where she was for some time, there was no reason why
the request should not be granted.
“What are you going to do?” Gertie asked as she saw the cabin-boy
bustling around much as if about to start on some important expedition.
“Out to get that fellow. Jake owns a spear, and I’m going to row the
boat while he catches him, same as if it was a whale.”
“I wish I could go.”
“Why can’t you? Ask the doctor an’ I’m sure he’ll let you.”
Singular as it may seem, the medicine-vender’s fit of the sulks had
been followed by something very nearly approaching an amiable frame of
mind, and after being assured by Captain Irwin that Gertie would be in
no danger, he readily gave permission for her to accompany the would-be
turtle-catchers.
One of the sailors aided Ben in launching the small boat, but declined
the invitation to join the party, giving as a reason that he “wasn’t
sich an ijut as to work a pair of oars when the weather was so hot,
jest on account of a sleepy turtle.” By the time the little craft was
in the water, Jake came on deck armed with his spear, to which was
attached a coil of stout cord.
The Sea Queen was loaded so deep that it was not a difficult matter to
get over the rail into the boat, and as the painter was cast off Jake
immediately assumed command by saying:
“Sit in the stern sheets, Gertie, an’ don’t so much as wink till we are
fast to that feller, then yell all you want to. Ben, you’re to pull on
to him, an’ remember that he’ll dive if you make the least little bit
of noise with the oars. I’ll stand chock up in the bows where I can
give you the course, an’ be ready to strike when we are near enough.”
There was no idea of disobeying orders. Gertie pushed herself far back
on the seat and gazed as intently at the turtle as did Jake, while Ben
tugged at the oars, directing the movements of the boat according to
the cook’s whispered commands.
The progress was not rapid, but it was silent, and in twenty minutes
Jake poised the spear for a cast. The turtle remained motionless upon
the water hardly more than five yards ahead.
[Illustration: +Ben held the oars while Jake poised the spear for a
cast.+]
Then the cook waved his hand for his crew to cease rowing, and Gertie
watched every movement as she literally held her breath in suspense.
During a moment as the boat glided slowly ahead the spear was held
aloft, then, after a quick backward motion, it was launched forward at
the full strength of the thrower’s arms, and in another instant the
splashing of the water told that the iron had struck its mark.
“Hurra!” Jake shouted excitedly, as the wounded turtle suddenly
disappeared, dragging after him the rope which the victorious cook
allowed to slip through his hands. “We’ve got him now, an’ I’d like to
see the man who says the thing could a-been done any better.”
“If the spear gets loose you’ll look in vain for him,” Ben cried, as
the rope was drawn taut and the boat began to glide swiftly through the
water, dragged by the captive faster than a man could have rowed.
“There’s no fear of that. The spear has a long barb which pulls out
sideways each end of the point, when it strikes, an’ that will hold
under the shell a good while longer than he can swim.”
The sport had now become too exciting to admit of any conversation. The
water foamed and boiled around the bow of the boat as she was drawn
along, and not one of the three paid any attention to the fact that
they were being carried swiftly away from the schooner.
After the first mad rush the turtle came to the surface, and Jake
coiled in the rope until the captive dashed off at full speed again,
when he was forced to pay it out or run the risk of being pulled
overboard. To relieve the strain on his arms he made the end of the
towing-line fast to the forward thwart, and on the boat sped as if
being propelled by steam. During more than an hour it was a series of
alternate onward rushes and halts, and then the novel steed so far gave
up the contest that it was possible to pull him in over the bow, all
hands being disposed to give him plenty of room because of his sharp,
parrot-like mouth, which opened and shut viciously.
“He ain’t so very large,” Jake said, as he seated himself on the
middle thwart, out of the reach of the snapping beak, and wiped the
perspiration from his face. “He’ll weigh more’n a hundred pounds,
though, an’ we’ve had as much fun as if he was twice as large. Now
we’ll be workin’ our way back to the schooner, for we must have a
decently long pull before us.”
As he spoke he gazed around the horizon in search of the Sea Queen,
suddenly uttering a low cry of alarm as he turned toward the stern of
the boat.
From the direction where he believed the schooner was lying, a huge
bank of fog which covered the water and obscured even the light of the
sun, was coming directly down upon them, and before either Gertie or
Ben realized the situation, the little craft and its occupants were
swallowed up by the cloud-like vapor.
They were in the open gulf without food, water, or means of guiding
their course, and unless the fog should disappear as rapidly as it had
come there was little possibility of ever seeing the Sea Queen again.
CHAPTER V.
THE DRIFTING HULK.
As the fog settled down upon the turtle-catchers, shutting out from
their view the surrounding waters and enveloping them as with a misty
veil which was more bewildering than the blackness of night, no one
spoke for several moments. Silent and motionless they sat, gazing
blankly at the vapor, which confused by its density, until there was a
dim idea even in the minds of Gertie and Ben of the peril which had so
suddenly come upon them.
“Do you suppose the folks on the schooner can find us?” Ben asked
suddenly, his voice sounding strange and unreal in that cloud of wavy
moisture which rendered the occupants of the boat indistinct to each
other.
“There is just a chance of it,” Jake replied hoarsely. “Most likely
somebody had our bearings before the fog shut down over them; but then
again the turtle might have towed the boat a couple of miles on another
course before the smother reached us.”
“How are we to get on board?” Gertie asked, and there was a long pause
before Jake replied:
“That’s what I don’t exactly know. We may as well make up our minds
that we’ll be on this ’ere craft quite a spell, for I reckon it’ll be
mighty near dark before the fog lifts. I’m goin’ to run the risk of
pullin’ up toward where I think the schooner is, and if we miss her we
know that wherever mornin’ finds us the land won’t be very far away.”
Then Jake kicked the turtle, as if holding it responsible for all
their trouble, and seating himself on the middle thwart, took up the
oars with the air of a man who is thoroughly convinced his labor will
be useless. Both the children understood from the expression of his
face that he was seriously alarmed, and they sat in silent terror,
alternately gazing at him and trying to peer through the vapor which
seemed to grow more dense each moment.
It was a long time before the silence was broken, and then Gertie asked
in a low tone:
“Please can I have a drink of water?”
“We haven’t got a drop on board,” Jake replied almost sharply, “and
unless the schooner picks us up we can’t get any till we reach the
land.”
“And there’s nothing to eat,” Ben added.
“It doesn’t make any difference about the water,” Gertrude said
bravely. “I only fancied I would like some, but I’m not so very
thirsty.”
Ben thought it strange that this remark, made simply for the purpose of
showing that she could bear privation as well as her companions, should
dishearten Jake, for it surely seemed to have that effect. Instead of
replying, he dropped the oars and covered his face with his hands as if
in utter despair.
“Don’t, please don’t feel so badly,” she said pleadingly. “I’m sure
the ship will come after us, and how do we know but that we are close
beside her now.”
“Well, if children can keep their hearts up it don’t seem as if an A
No. 1 cook like me oughter give in, does it?” and Jake sat erect once
more, straightening himself so quickly that he almost fell backward,
which caused Gertie and Ben to laugh as if no danger menaced.
“You must have a spring in your backbone,” Ben cried, and then all
three began to laugh again, which was the very best medicine they could
have had just at that time.
“I haven’t been allowin’ that we could be very near the schooner,” Jake
said as the mirth subsided, “but Gertie may be right after all, so
instead of rowin’ any more with a chance of goin’ directly away from
the Sea Queen, I reckon we’d better make all the noise we can, an’ if
there’s anybody round here lookin’ for us they’ll know where we are.”
Then he began to shout at the full strength of his lungs, while the
others joined their weaker voices with his. Now and again he would stop
a few seconds to listen for a reply, and as none came, would do his
best to make a yet louder outcry, until he was so hoarse that further
effort was useless. It seemed as if the thick cloud of vapor confined
the sound to the vicinity of the boat, preventing it from penetrating
very far in either direction.
“It ’pears like as if my voice was givin’ out,” he said in a hoarse
whisper when it was no longer possible to speak aloud. “Time was that I
could keep it up as hearty as our own quack doctor, but now I no sooner
begin than I’m done.”
“Gertie and I can make a good deal of noise yet,” Ben said, and for
fifteen minutes more the two children did their best to attract the
attention of those who might aid them.
At the end of that time the fog began to assume a darker hue, and Jake
announced the unwelcome fact that night was settling down over the
vapor-covered waters.
“There’s one thing about it that’s a satisfaction,” he said grimly, “we
can’t see the fog even if we can feel it, an’ I reckon darkness is more
wholesome for the eyes than that gray stuff.”
While they were shouting Ben had crept past the turtle into the extreme
bow of the boat, much as if he believed the sound of his voice would
be sent a greater distance from that point, and as Jack spoke he was
gazing ahead where the mist appeared to be darker than on either side.
At first he thought it might be the shadow of a vessel; but after he
had hailed twice without getting any reply, he concluded it was due
to a particularly dense cloud of fog, therefore he did not call his
companions’ attention to it.
He had half-turned to listen to the cook, and when Jake ceased speaking
he looked ahead once more, this time leaping to his feet as he shouted:
“See there! That must be the Sea Queen! Ahoy! Schooner ahoy!”
It was possible only to distinguish a large, dark object, but a short
distance from the boat, and knowing it could not be land, Jake was
positive they had unwittingly approached the craft all were so anxious
to find.
“That is her!” he cried, and then he shouted in his hoarse voice, which
was almost drowned by Gertie’s clear tones, but no reply was made.
“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. “Do you suppose they can’t hear us?”
“They’re all below sojerin’; but that don’t make such a very great
difference to us, seein’ as how a dozen strokes will take us
alongside,” Jake said as he seized the oars. “Stand by to fend off,
Ben, an’ we’ll soon be aboard the old hooker agin.”
There was no necessity of issuing this command to Master Clark. He
was standing in the bow with his arm outstretched, and as the little
craft forged ahead under the impulse of Jake’s vigorous strokes, it was
hardly more than sixty seconds before he had grasped the bobstay and
was calling loudly for some one to heave him a line.
Jake had turned as the boat’s headway was thus checked, and gazed in
bewilderment at the vessel’s bow, which did not look at all familiar.
“Make the painter fast an’ climb aboard,” he said to Ben, after a short
pause. “It seems as if all hands must a’ gone turtle huntin’ about the
same time we did.”
Master Clark tied the painter to the chains and was on the point of
scrambling over the high bow when he was confronted by a coal-black
face which looked almost unearthly, coming suddenly as it did from out
the fog. For an instant he was on the point of leaping down, regardless
whether he struck the boat or the water, and that brief time of
hesitation prevented him from committing a very foolish act, for almost
immediately he heard a voice which was anything rather than terrifying
in its naturalness, say devoutly:
“Bress de Lawd for hearin’ a po’ ole nigger’s prayar! What town is dis
h’yar, chile? Hab yer done gone foun’ de captin?”
“I--I don’t know what you mean,” Ben stammered, thinking it was an
insane woman who was gazing at him.
“What craft is this?” Jake asked, as he begun clambering on board,
stopping when he was where he could swing one leg over the rail, and
looking curiously around at such portions of the vessel as were visible
in the fog.
“What vessel, sah?” the old woman repeated, beginning now in turn to
look bewildered.
“Yes, what’s her name! I s’pose she’s got one.”
“Oh! You kinder flustered me, honey. Dis ship was called the Cy Moon
fore she done gone blowed mos’ to pieces, an’ I don’t know if it’s got
a name left now.”
“Cy Moon!” Jake repeated reflectively, as he sat on the rail looking
earnestly at the negress until she approached nearer to gaze down
on the boat in which Gertie was anxiously awaiting the result of
the interview, and then the cook saw the name “Simoon” painted on a
fire-bucket, which had been hidden by the woman’s clothing.
In this name there was nothing peculiar; he had seen it several
times on craft ranging in size from a small fishing schooner to a
full-rigged ship, and he began to feel that there was far less reason
for superstitious fears than if the word had been spelled according to
the pronunciation given by the negress.
“Where are the crew?” he asked as he leaped on deck.
“They all done gone lef’ me, an’ I spec’ they went on shore de oder
night when de wind blowed powerful bad.”
“Do you mean to say that they abandoned the ship an’ left you to take
care of yourself?” Jack asked as he walked amidships, where he could
see that both masts had been blown out of the vessel, the splintered
ends of the timbers showing but a few feet above the deck.
“I don’ know what dey did, sah; but it’s mos’ a week sence the wind
blowed terrible, an’ Cap’en Dingley say, ‘Go to bed, aunty, till fair
wedder comes.’ It ’peared like the ship was sinkin’ every minute, an’
once she rolled ober on her side till I prayed mighty loud. When I
come up stairs in de mawnin’ I couldn’t fin’ de cap’en or men, an’ I’se
bin right here ebber sence.”
“The old hooker was dismasted in that gale we caught outside Sandy
Hook, I s’pose,” Jake said in a low tone to Ben, “an’ all hands were
swept away, or thought they had to take to the boats mighty lively, so
they didn’t stop for the old woman. Where did you come from?” he asked
the negress.
“Savannah, sah, an’ I was goin’ straight up Norf to see my boy Moses.
’Pears like you might----”
“Why, I live in Savannah!” Ben cried, seizing the old woman’s hand as
if the mere fact of her residing in his native city was sufficient to
constitute her an intimate friend.
“Does you, chile? Wall, I’se ready to go back now, an’ if Moses wants
to see his ole mammy he can come whar she is. We’ll go dere right
straight, an’ when Cap’en Dingley gits back it’ll larn him not to leave
anudder ole nigger woman to take keer ob his boat.”
“I wish you could go there as easy as you think, aunty, but the way
things are fixed I reckon you’ll have to stay here a while longer,
an’ we’ll all be lucky if this hulk drifts near enough to one of the
keys for us to land. Ben, you help Gertie on board an’ then we’ll look
around a bit to see what kind of a craft we’ve run into in the fog.”
It was now growing dark rapidly, and such preparations as were to
be made for the night ought to be hurried forward while it was yet
sufficiently light for them to see what should be done. Ben clambered
down into the boat, and in a few moments, thanks to the aid Jake gave
from above, Gertie was brought on deck, where she was delivered into
the old negress’ charge, with instructions that she be taken to the
cabin.
To ascertain the condition of the upper portion of the Simoon was
neither a long nor a difficult task. She had been a brig-rigged vessel
of about five hundred tons burden, and was loaded quite deep in the
water. Both masts and the jib-boom had been carried away, while a
portion of the port rail was crushed where the heavy spar had fallen
upon it. The hatches were on, the steering-gear uninjured, the galley
yet in a condition to be used, and from the appearance of the cabin and
forecastle, it was evident the crew had believed her to be sinking,
when they abandoned her so hastily that they made no attempt to take
the negress with them.
“She was most likely thrown on her beam ends by a sudden slant of the
wind, an’ as she didn’t right after the spars went, the men thought it
was a case of every one for himself,” Jake said when he and Ben had
walked rapidly fore and aft. “We’ll try the well, an’ if she hasn’t got
too much water aboard we can settle down half-way comfortable for the
night.”
The sounding-rod was yet in the socket, showing that it had been used
before the hurried departure of the men, and, as near as Jake could
learn, there was no more water in the brig than might have been shipped
while she was on her beam-ends.
“If the plankin’ had been started she would a-gone to the bottom long
before this, providin’ the old woman is right about havin’ been here
a week, an’ we can reckon on plenty of provisions, ’cause she has the
look of bein’ well fed.”
“Then I don’t see why we’re not pretty nicely off for folks who have
lost their own vessel in the fog.”
“We’ve got a chance to stretch our legs an’ lie down in some kind of
comfortable style,” Jake said slowly and gravely; “but other ways we’re
fixed no better on this driftin’ hulk than we would be in the boat, an’
perhaps not so well.”
“We can leave in the morning, if the wind don’t come on and blow too
hard.”
“That’s just it, my boy, _if_ the wind _don’t_ spring up; but if we
should fall in with a norther, an’ there are plenty of ’em skulkin’
round here, we’d stand a chance of makin’ a long cruise with no port
this side Davy Jones’ locker.”
CHAPTER VI.
ON THE SIMOON.
When he first stepped aboard the drifting hulk, Ben inclined to the
belief that all their troubles were over, since they were once more
on a vessel, even though she was dismasted; but his spirits fell very
rapidly as the cook briefly pointed out the dangers of the situation,
and he began to look upon the derelict simply as a trap which had been
placed in the gulf for the purpose of drowning those who sought shelter
upon her.
With Jake the case was different; the fact that he had good reason
for predicting evil seemed to make him quite contented with his
surroundings, and he set about his preparations for the night in a
sadly happy manner. His first care was to take, with Ben’s aid, the
turtle from the boat, and then to fasten the little craft securely
astern where she might readily be reached, for no one could say how
soon she would be required for the safety of those on board the
disabled brig.
After that had been done the Sea Queen’s cook busied himself with
putting the partially shattered galley in working order, and while
he was thus engaged Ben went into the cabin to learn whether the old
negress was making Gertie comfortable.
This portion of the brig offered a striking contrast to the deck,
where everything told of disaster. The lamps had been lighted, and the
interior wore a cheerful, home-like look that went very far toward
dispelling the boy’s gloomy thoughts caused by Jake’s dismal croaking.
The saloon was as large as an ordinary room, with four doors leading
to as many state-rooms on either side, and, according to Ben’s ideas,
furnished with an unusual degree of elegance, although had he been
more familiar with vessels of the Simoon’s class he would not have
been surprised at what he saw. A long dining-table with revolving,
upholstered chairs, ran nearly the entire length of the apartment, and
over it were two swinging lamps with silvered reflectors. Between the
state-room doors were sofas, and the panels of the walls and ceiling
were brilliant with gilt and inlaid woods of various colors. A thick
carpet on the floor, partially hidden by canvas coverings, the brass
plates on the companion-way stairs, and the swinging trays of glasses,
which sparkled in the light of the lamps that swayed slowly to and fro
as the wreck rose and fell sluggishly on the swell of the waves, made
up such a picture as Master Clark thought very beautiful.
Despite the glitter and color of the saloon, there were the same
palpable evidences of disaster as could be seen on deck. The carpet was
soaked with water which had entered the cabin while the brig was on
her beam ends, many of the glasses were broken, some of the furniture
was badly discolored, and the open doors of the state-rooms disclosed
wearing apparel swinging on the walls in a suggestively mournful way
when viewed in connection with the surroundings.
It is not to be supposed that Ben took note of all these things when
he first descended the stairs; he simply surveyed the place in a hasty
manner, and then his attention was centered upon the two who were
seated at the after end of the table.
The old woman had learned from Gertie the particulars of the capture
of the turtle and the disaster which befell the little party, and
had at once set about providing her with a lunch, of which the child
partook as if she had been without food for forty-eight instead of
only six hours. The sense of companionship, after having been so long
alone, cheered the solitary passenger of the Simoon quite as much as
the knowledge of temporary safety had the child, and the two looked
as happy as if they were making a voyage for pleasure on a sound,
fully-officered ship.
“Sit down and have something to eat, Ben,” Gertie said as the boy
entered. “It is much nicer here than on the Sea Queen, for that man
isn’t aboard, and Mammy Chloe knows where there are lots of good
things.”
“Come an’ fill yourself up, honey. Bress de Lawd, we’se got ’nuff to
eat, an’ bymeby we’se all gwine to toddle up Savannah streets lookin’
jes’ as fat as ’possums.”
“Jake is out in the galley rattling the pots an’ kettles as if he was
cookin’ dinner for an hundred, and I guess I’ll wait for the second
table,” Ben said merrily as he seated himself very stiffly on one of
the sofas, moving his body up and down to test the elasticity of the
springs. “I say, Gertie, this is regularly swell, ain’t it? It seems as
if we could go on living here just as long as we wanted to, an’ have an
awful good time into the bargain, but Jake says if the wind blows hard
we’ll be in a bad mess.”
“It’s wicked for him to hunt up trouble,” Gertie said indignantly. “I’m
sure we would be safer here in a storm than on the little boat, and
besides, we should have been awfully thirsty if we hadn’t found this
vessel.”
Just at this moment the cook’s voice was heard from the deck, as he
sung in anything rather than a mournful tone:
“For I’m the mate an’ the captain, too,
And the cook of the Simoon brig;
I’m the midship mite an’ the bo’sun tight,
And the crew of the captain’s gig.”
“He can’t be worried very much to sing like that,” Gertie said as the
sound of the voice was drowned by a furious clatter of pans, much as if
a whole load of tinware had suddenly been thrown on the deck. “No one
would begin to cook and make such horrid noises if the danger was very
great.”
“You’se safe ’nuff now, chile, so don’t fuss ’bout anything what ain’t
right afore you,” old Chloe said, as she brought more dishes from the
pantry and insisted on Ben sitting at the table, regardless of the
elaborate meal which Jake was supposed to be preparing.
It was half an hour before the cook had ready such a supper as he
thought necessary, and when he brought it into the cabin he was the
only one who could appreciate it, for the others no longer felt the
need of anything save sleep.
Old Chloe had made up a bed for Gertie in the room adjoining hers, and
when the child’s head begun to fall because of the weight of slumber
pressing upon the eyelids, the negress led her from the table, leaving
Jake and Ben to discuss the situation alone.
“Well, matey,” the cook asked as, having concluded his hearty meal,
he polished his mouth vigorously on his shirt-sleeve and sat resting
both elbows on the table, looking with evident satisfaction at his
surroundings, “will you an’ me turn in, leaving the old hooker to
navigate herself, or will we stump the deck all night like we was
keepin’ watch so’s to give the poor, tired crew a chance for a long
snooze?”
“I’m willin’ to stay up all night if it is necessary,” Ben replied
promptly, although he looked as if sleep was the one particular thing
he needed just then.
“We’ll take a squint around,” Jake said, rising from the table after
having gazed at the food as if undecided whether he should make another
effort to eat more. “If the smother is as thick as it was when I come
below, I don’t know as we can do any good by standin’ watch, though I
’spose we might hang out some lanterns.”
When the two went on deck they found that there was a decided change
in the weather. Owing to the darkness, the fog appeared to be as dense
as when it had first covered the waters of the gulf, but a breeze was
springing up and already were the waves putting on their white caps as
they dashed against the cutwater of the helpless vessel.
The cook no longer made any pretensions to being either the “captain or
mate of the Simoon brig,” but walked silently forward and then aft in a
manner which gave Ben to understand that he was seriously troubled in
mind.
“You ain’t going to fuss because this little breeze has come, are you?”
Ben asked anxiously. “Perhaps it’ll blow the fog away; but I don’t see
that it can do anything worse.”
“So long as it holds like this things will be snug enough,” Jake
replied slowly, “but if it keeps on growin’, as I reckon it will, we
shall have too much before mornin’. You see, we can’t do anything
toward helpin’ the old craft along; first, ’cause we don’t know where
the land lays, an’ second, on account of our not bein’ sailors such as
can make a full-rigged ship with a jackknife an’ a piece of pine wood.”
“Then if we can’t do anything we may as well wait till it gets really
bad before we cry,” Ben said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
“I s’pose you’re right,” the cook replied sadly. “You go below an’ turn
into one of the empty bunks while I keep a little watch here all by
myself.”
“If there is anything to do I don’t want to go to sleep.”
“You might just as well as to stay here, for there is really no work
for anybody.”
Having thus been assured that he was not needed on deck, and feeling
quite positive that Jake’s delight in melancholy rather than the true
state of affairs caused these evil forebodings, Ben went into the
cabin. All the sleeping apartments, save the two occupied by old Chloe
and Gertie, were open, and he made a critical examination of each
before deciding which to use. The after one on the starboard side was
the largest and looked the most inviting, and this he entered without
thought that it might be well to take the dishes from the table, or
extinguish one of the lamps.
Partially undressing himself he laid down in the wide berth, and before
he had time to speculate as to what might be the result of this cruise
in a water-logged vessel, he was in the land of Nod, too weary even to
dream.
Meanwhile Jake was on deck with genuine fear in his heart. Although
having sailed many years as a cook he was far from being a seaman, and
the knowledge that if he knew how he might do something toward averting
danger in case of a storm, only served to make him more anxious. He
succeeded in finding two lanterns, which he lashed to the splintered
ends of the masts, and after this had been done he paced to and fro on
the deck as if believing that by so doing he would be able to prevent
any serious disaster.
The wind was rapidly increasing in force, and the fog had been so
nearly dispersed that he could see the sky, across which heavy clouds
were hurrying, like couriers of the coming storm. The motion of the
wreck was fast becoming violent, and the waves had already grown
so high as to dash, now and then, over the shattered rail when the
heavily-laden vessel could not rise with the swell.
Jake lighted the binnacle-lamp that he might see the compass, and from
it learned that the wind was blowing out of the northwest, inclining
rather more to the westward, and this knowledge had the effect of
increasing rather than allaying his fears, for he knew that the wreck
might be carried past the chain of keys into the open sea.
“The old hooker can’t live through many storms,” he muttered to himself
as he closed the forecastle hatch and made preparations for sounding
the well again. “If this wind holds strong two or three days we’ll find
ourselves knockin’ about with precious little chance of bein’ picked
up, unless we should have the good luck to strike the Cuban shore. If
land is in sight at sunrise, an’ the sea isn’t kickin’ up too much of a
bobbery, I believe the best thing we can do is to take our chances in
the small boat.”
Having expressed this opinion to himself he went, from sheer force of
habit, into the galley, remaining there even after the deck was awash
and the wreck plunging violently about as the waves struck heavy blows
which caused her to tremble from stem to stern.
In the cabin Gertie, Ben, and possibly old Chloe, were sleeping
soundly, heeding not the increased rolling of the hulk until it was
forced up by a wave and allowed to fall into the abyss of waters,
when the dishes were thrown from the table with a terrible clatter,
and everything movable was flung from one side to the other, crashing
against the swinging doors or rolling into the open rooms.
The uproar was so great that, weary though at least two of the
occupants of the cabin were, all three were out of their berths in an
instant, darting into the saloon in the belief that the brig had been
run down or struck a rock.
“What is the matter?” Gertie cried in alarm as Ben rushed from the
room aft of hers and darted toward the companion-way. “Is the vessel
sinking?”
“I don’t know,” was the hurried reply. “I’m going to find Jake.”
“You needn’t go any further, for I’m coming down.”
As he spoke the cook descended the stairs, arriving at the foot just as
old Aunt Chloe came from her room at full speed, and as the two were
moving directly toward each other when the vessel lurched again, they
quite naturally came in collision.
The shock was sufficient to throw both to the floor, but neither
Gertie or Ben saw anything comical in the unintentional encounter,
as would have been the case under other circumstances, for they were
so thoroughly frightened that they had no thought save for their own
danger.
After the cook scrambled to his feet he explained the cause of the
confusion, so far as the movements of the vessel was concerned, but he
could say nothing to cheer the anxious ones.
“A storm has come up, an’ the seas are breakin’ clean over us, owin’ to
our bein’ broadside to the wind. There isn’t a thing we can do to help
ourselves, an’ we’ve got to sit here an’ take what comes.”
The shrieking of the wind, the angry blows of the waves against the
helpless craft, and the swash of the water as it swept to and fro on
the deck, could plainly be heard by those in the cabin, telling of the
danger to which they were exposed. The full extent of the peril was now
apparent even to old Chloe, and she clasped Ben and Gertie in her arms
as she crouched on the floor alternately sobbing and praying.
CHAPTER VII.
THE REEF.
Even had the occupants of the Simoon’s cabin been assured that the
vessel’s hull was strong enough to successfully withstand the angry
blows of the water, and had they known that all the chances were in the
brig’s favor during the progress of the storm, which was now fully upon
them, their situation would have been one of anxiety and terror, tossed
about as they were at the mercy of the wind and wave, without power to
guide the helpless craft. Instead, however, of being assured of their
ultimate safety, the little party had every reason to believe that the
wreck could not long remain afloat if the sea continued boisterous, and
the one fact uppermost in the mind of each was that at any moment the
hulk might sink like a stone, with no possible chance that the lives of
those on board could be saved.
Perhaps the timbers did not creak and groan any more than would have
been the case had the vessel been uninjured and sailing buoyantly over
the waves guided by skillful hands; but to the terrified ones the
straining of the planks sounded as if each separate piece was being
wrenched from its fellow, and more than once when an unusually heavy
sea came aboard did they glance at the companion-way, expecting to see
the water pouring in upon them.
Their fears were allayed in some slight degree after an hour had passed
and the brig continued to float. In their minds came the thought that
if she had ridden the waves thus far, however sluggishly, it might be
possible she would continue to do so until aid in some form should come.
During this time they had remained motionless as when terror dealt
the first blow--old Chloe on her knees with Gertie and Ben tightly
clasped to her bosom, and Jake crouching on the brass-covered stairs.
When in his despair came a gleam of hope to the cook, he started up
the companion-way quickly, as if he expected he could see through the
blackness which was rendered more dense and bewildering by the flying
spray and rain.
“Don’t go, Jake! Don’t leave us here!” Ben cried, not realizing for the
moment that it was impossible for the man to go very far away.
“I only wanted to see how things looked from the deck,” Jake replied as
he halted at the door, and in the briefest possible space of time he
understood that it would be in the highest degree dangerous to make any
attempt at going forward.
The seas were dashing entirely over the vessel, and had the
companion-way opened toward the bow instead of the stern, the cabin
would long since have been filled with water.
“I s’pose I might as well stay here,” and Jake seated himself on the
stairs. “Jest for a minute I thought something could be done; but it’s
blacker outside than a pocket, an’ a man who’d try to go for’red would
be swept overboard.”
“If Captain Irwin would only find us now!” Gertie cried, and any hope
of escape she might have had from the coming of the schooner was
dispelled by the cook, who said in a tone of despair:
“It wouldn’t do a bit of good if she was within hail this very minute.
They couldn’t reach us any more’n we could them.”
“They might come in the long-boat,” Ben suggested.
“She couldn’t be lowered without swampin’, an’ Captain Irwin knows too
much to try such a job. The only chance we’ve got is that this old hulk
will live through the gale, an’ not be blown too far out to sea.”
After this the little party relapsed into silence, save when old Chloe
bewailed her fate at having left Savannah, or exclaimed in anger
because her “Moses” had persuaded her “to go up Norf.” Now and then
Gertie would take Ben’s hands in hers, as if to cheer him, or he would
stroke her hair to show that he still considered himself her protector,
even though it was now so impossible to extend any aid. Jake remained
on the stairs glancing up apprehensively every time the waves struck
an unusually heavy blow, and on two occasions making an unsuccessful
attempt to reach the deck.
With almost painful slowness the minutes passed, and it was not yet
midnight when Gertie believed it was time for the sun to rise. Then
kindly sleep came to the relief of the old woman and the two children,
and partially sitting, partially lying on the floor the three were lost
to consciousness of the danger which menaced, while Jake played the
part of a very ill-favored guardian angel as he sat above them keeping
useless watch while the wind, the sea and the grinding of the vessel’s
timbers made hideous confusion.
The dawn had not yet appeared when the storm-tossed hulk sunk down
into the waters as if about to take the last plunge, and Jake grasped
more firmly the rail of the stair-way, believing the end had finally
come. How long this downward motion continued before she began to rise
again, he had no idea; he was only conscious that she had ceased to
settle and was being lifted once more, and the fear of immediate death
which had come upon him was hardly gone before it returned. Up, up the
water-laden vessel was carried, until it seemed as if her bow must be
directly above her stern, and then there was a swift, sickening onward
rush that ended with a crash which hurled the sleepers to the forward
end of the cabin, throwing Jake directly upon them.
It was nearly a minute before any one could understand what had caused
this sudden change of position, and then Jake said, as he rose to
his feet after extricating himself with difficulty from old Chloe’s
detaining grasp:
“We have struck the land somewhere, and it’s a little comfort to know
there’s a solid substance underneath us, even if we never get ashore.”
The Simoon was now motionless; the waves were striking against her
with a force that could plainly be felt by the frightened ones; but
she no longer rose or fell on the angry waters--there was a feeling
of solidity about her which did very much toward allaying the fears
of those who were in such peril. For the moment there was no question
whether the hulk could remain intact against the blows of the sea; but
all believed they were freed from any immediate danger.
“Where do you suppose we are?” Gertie asked, and the cook replied with
something like his former sadness:
“I don’t know. It’s satisfaction enough to feel that she has grounded
without asking for anything more. We may be on an island, an’ then agin
we may have struck a reef; but wherever she is, we ain’t likely to sink
any deeper ’till the waves break her to pieces.”
“Couldn’t we learn anything by going on deck?” Gertie asked, for
the idea of waiting in fear lest the brig should be stove was but a
trifling degree less unpleasant than remaining in suspense while the
helpless vessel was being driven on by the storm.
It was yet dark, and the pounding of the waves upon the deck could
still be heard. It would be impossible to make out the position of the
brig even if one could remain above long enough to take a survey of the
surroundings.
“All we can do is to stay where we are until it is light,” Jake
replied, “and we sha’n’t have long to wait, for it’s pretty near
sunrise.”
In this the cook was correct, for the first gray light of the coming
day could be seen in the cabin before an hour had passed, although to
the anxious ones it appeared as if nearly half the night elapsed from
the time Jake spoke until dawn paled the flame of the lamps.
It seemed as if the coming of the sun had broken the force of the gale,
for when it was possible to discern surrounding objects the sea had so
far subsided that there was no danger in going on deck. The towering
waves continued to dash against the wreck with a force that threatened
momentarily to rend the timbers, but the waters no longer swept fore
and aft in irresistible torrents, as had been the case when the doomed
vessel struck upon the reef.
Jake was the first to ascend the stairs. Following him came Ben,
grasping Gertie tightly by the hand, as she in turn had a firm hold of
old Chloe, who had been literally speechless with fear during the past
two hours, and whose face was of that peculiar greyish hue which terror
paints upon a black skin.
The first glimpse which the shipwrecked ones had of their surroundings
was neither encouraging nor particularly disheartening. They were no
longer in danger of immediate death, but might be obliged to remain
where they were many days, during which time they would undoubtedly
suffer some discomforts if not actual privations.
The Simoon had struck a reef which extended along one side of a very
small coral island or key, on which a dozen mangrove trees represented
the entire vegetation. She lay with her stern raised slightly higher
than the bow, and her port side exposed to the seas, which were yet
curling angrily and ominous-looking as they chased each other in the
race to the doomed vessel, and from her to the shore, which was hardly
more than two hundred yards away.
“It doesn’t appear like such an awfully jolly place, but it’s a long
ways ahead of an open boat in a fog,” Ben said, after the little party
had gazed several minutes in silence at the glistening white sand of
the tiny island. “As soon as the sea gets smooth we can start in search
of Key West.”
As he spoke, all hands instinctively glanced astern where it was
supposed the Sea Queen’s tender was still moored, but nothing could be
seen. One end of the painter was made fast to a belaying-pin, and Jake
ran quickly toward it, hauling in on the rope until a small fragment of
shattered timber to which the ring-bolt was attached had been brought
to view.
“We might a’ known that any kind of a boat would a’ been stove in them
seas,” he exclaimed bitterly, “an’ I was such a fool as to think she
was holdin’ fast an’ sound.”
“Shall we have to stay on this vessel?” Gertie asked in a tremulous
voice, for the pounding of the waves against the side of the brig
was sufficient to give the impression that the hull could not long
withstand the continued assault.
“It won’t be such a very hard matter to go ashore after the sea gets
quiet,” Jake replied as he dropped the now useless rope and gazed
around, “but when we’re on that bit of sand we’ll have to stay there,
for I don’t reckon we could do much sailin’ with a raft.”
“We ought to be mighty thankful that the ‘bit of sand,’ as you call it,
is so near,” Ben said cheerfully, as he crept cautiously around the
starboard side of the deck-house in order to get a better view of the
island.
It is quite probable that Jake was thankful at having a place of
refuge, however small, close at hand, but he could not resist the
desire to indulge in the pleasure of appearing sad, and one would have
believed from the look on his face that every hope had departed.
The sight of the land had lifted old Chloe from out the slough of
despair into which she had so long been plunged, and the grayish hue
gave place to shining black as she feasted her eyes, which had for
so many days been accustomed to the heaving billows, upon the waving
leaves and glittering sand.
“Bress de Lawd, it’s big ’nuff to stan’ on and looks gooder’n a hunerd
ships. I’se done gone ready to leave dis yer crazy vessel.”
“All right, aunty,” Jake replied in a melancholy tone, “you shall be
there before sunset, an’ by the time you get all tied up with the
rheumatiz along o’ layin’ on the wet sand, you’ll be mighty glad
to see the smallest turtlin’ schooner that ever come nosin’ round
this forsaken place. You an’ Gertie ’tend to gettin’ something for
breakfast while we try our hands at raft buildin’.”
Chloe was perfectly willing to do anything which would forward the
preparations for landing, and she immediately went into the pantry,
followed by Gertie. During the storm the remnants of the galley had
been washed away, therefore the task which the cook of the Sea Queen
had set for the old woman was not easy of accomplishment unless
breakfast was to be served cold.
If Chloe’s portion of the labor was difficult, that which Jake and Ben
were to perform was doubly so, owing to the fact that every movable
thing on deck, including the turtle, which was the remote cause of
three of the party being in such trouble, had been swept overboard, and
materials sufficient for building a raft were not easily found.
The cook had already indulged in mourning to quite an extent, therefore
he had nothing with which to occupy his mind save the task in question,
and he set about it with a will. At the expense of some considerable
labor the main hatches were removed and lashed together, after having
been placed on the starboard side near where the rail was stove, in
order that they might be easily launched, and on them were fastened
doors from the cabin and such other buoyant articles as could most
readily be procured.
The labor was interrupted only by a summons to a cold breakfast and
afterward to dinner, and at three o’clock in the afternoon all was in
readiness for the trip to the shore. The waves were running high, yet
not to such an extent but that the passage could be made in safety, and
Jake called all hands on deck as soon as the rude craft had been pushed
into the water.
CHAPTER VIII.
ON THE KEY.
Jake’s preparations for landing were very carefully made. The brig was
held firmly by the reef, with no danger of sinking, and it had been
possible to work to the greatest advantage, except so far as lack of
proper material was concerned.
The raft was a heavy, unwieldy-looking affair, but it had the merit
of being sufficiently buoyant to float the shipwrecked party and a
certain amount of stores which were to be taken ashore on the first
trip. In the lazarette Jake found a new top-gallant sail, as well as
a couple of bolts of canvas, and these he had loaded onto the clumsy
craft at first, for the duty of putting up some kind of a shelter to
protect them from the sun during the day and the dew at night was of
the greatest importance. A small breaker of water, some canned meat and
a box of biscuit made up the list of provisions, which Ben thought very
scanty until the cook explained his plans.
“The weather has got a settled look now, an’ the old hooker will hold
together until another storm comes on. We shall have plenty of time to
freight ashore all the things we need, so it’s not necessary to load
our Dutch style of clipper too deep on the first trip. What we’ve got
here will serve until mornin’ in case we don’t have a chance to come
back before sunset, so we sha’n’t be very near starvation.”
Some spare rope to lash down the tent, which was to be made of the
sail, and an ax comprised the remainder of the first load. It was not
until after all these had been carefully stowed, and one end of a coil
of rope made fast to the timbers, with the other end secured to the
capstan, that the passengers were invited on board.
When old Chloe looked down from the rail at the raft, her desire to go
on shore was greatly lessened. She was well aware how much flesh she
possessed, and was positive her weight alone would be sufficient to
sink the “clipper.”
“I’se powerful willin’ to leave dis yere vessel dat’s broke hisself
mos’ to pieces, fo’ a fac’, but dat ar’ little pile of wood’ll smash
all up when ole Chloe jumps on it.”
“Don’t fret about that, aunty,” Jake said impatiently. “It’ll hold a
dozen just like you, an’ we can’t fool round here very long if we want
to land before dark.”
“I can’t trus’ my ole bones on dese yere little pieces ob wood,” and
the old woman looked at the cook much as if surprised that he did not
immediately begin to remedy the defects she had pointed out.
“Then you’ll have to stay here. I ain’t sure but the brig will be as
good a place to sleep in as a tent on the island, but I didn’t want to
run the risk of a storm comin’ up in the night. Gertie, you an’ Ben
jump aboard, an’ perhaps when we come back aunty will be ready to take
her chances on the raft.”
This remark, which sounded in the old woman’s ears very like a threat,
was sufficient to conquer her fear of the frail-looking craft, and she
waddled toward the rail with a martyr-like expression on her face, as
she said in a doleful tone:
“I’se gwine wid you, Massa Jake, an’ I’se gwine fo’ to git drownded
suah.”
“You’re to be landed on that island, an’ you don’t begin to stand as
many chances of seein’ Davy Jones’ locker as you have any day since the
brig was dismasted.”
“I’se got nuffin’ to do wid Massa Jones, ’less he’s a Savannah
gen’leman, kase den he’d know how to treat a po’ ole nigger woman,”
Chloe replied stiffly as she peered down into the water, and Gertie
did her best to soothe the wounded feelings by saying as she took the
wrinkled, black hand in hers:
“There isn’t any danger, aunty, for if there was Jake wouldn’t ask us
to go. All you have to do is get aboard the raft, and in a few moments
we shall be on the land once more.”
“Bress you, chile, dat’s whar I pines to be; but I don’ wanter hab my
po’ ole bones drownded a-gettin’ dere.”
“Hold on to me an’ I’ll let you down like as if you was a big basket
of eggs,” Jake said as he grasped the old woman firmly by the arms,
and in a short time, thanks to Ben’s timely aid, she was crouching on
the canvas, hardly daring to move her head lest the raft should be
overturned; but all the while moaning and groaning as if she truly
believed the time of her death was very near at hand.
In a few seconds the other members of the party had left the brig, and
Ben and Jake were tugging manfully at the long sweeps as they propelled
the unwieldy mass of timbers toward the shore. The rope which was
attached to the raft and the Simoon’s capstan, slowly paid out as the
cook’s “clipper” forged sluggishly ahead, and decidedly retarded the
progress; but neither of the rowers made any complaint because of this,
for after it had once been stretched from the wreck to the shore it
would be a slight task to pull the rude craft to and fro.
Gertie was rather timid when she first stepped upon this apology for
a ferry-boat, but as it floated several inches out of water after all
hands were on board, her fears took flight, and she was the only merry
one of that sad-visaged party. Old Chloe lost none of the terror which
assailed her when she first saw the raft; the martyr-like expression
never left her face until after the hatches grated upon the sand of the
key, and she had been forced to wade through several inches of water to
the shore.
Then, however, the old woman gave way to the most extravagant
demonstrations of joy. She executed a sort of elephantine dance
until she was forced to cease from lack of breath, and she embraced
Gertie and Ben with a fervor that was really painful because of the
strength of her arms. She acted very much as if about to bestow the
same attention upon Jake, but he baffled any attempt of that kind by
gathering up the canvas and starting off toward the center of the
island.
“I’se done gone lef’ off gwine to sea, honey,” she said to Gertie, as
the latter began to help Ben carry the canned provisions high up on the
beach beyond the reach of the waves. “Ef Moses wants for to see his ole
mammy he’s got to come in de steam-keers after her.”
“Why, this is an island like Robinson Crusoe’s, aunty, and there are
no steam-cars near here. We’ve got to stay until some vessel comes and
takes us away.”
“Den I s’pects I’se got to wash fur some ob de folks what lives hyar
ef I wants enuff to eat, ’less dat good-fur-nothin’ Mose sends some
money, for I ’clar to goodness I ain’t gwine out on de water any mo’.”
“You can start a laundry, and we’ll all give you our trade,” Ben said
laughingly; “but I don’t believe the others we shall find here will
help you along much, for the turtles down this way haven’t got in the
habit of using handkerchiefs or stockings.”
Chloe looked at him wonderingly for a moment, but before she could make
any reply Jake shouted:
“Come on, Ben, an’ help me stretch this canvas, for I want to get back
to the brig again before dark.”
The cook had selected a spot between two mangroves as the site for the
camp, since from this point an unobstructed view could be had of the
gulf, and in a short time the sail was spread in such a manner as to
form a slanting roof with two ends, and a flap which could be let down
over the front in case of a storm. The bolts of canvas were unrolled
for a carpet, the water-breaker and bread-box set up in one corner, and
the camp was completed.
As a dwelling it did not boast of many modern conveniences. The air of
comfort apparent in the cabin of the Simoon was wholly lacking, but it
was a remarkably good shelter for shipwrecked people, and those who
were to occupy it believed they had every cause to be thankful that the
sea had allowed them to save so much.
“I reckon that will make a right nice shanty for us unless we get
introduced to a tornado or a norther,” Jake said in a tone of
satisfaction as he stepped back a few paces to survey his work. “Now,
you women folks can do whatever you want to while me an’ Ben pull back
to the brig.”
“What are you going there for now?” Gertie asked in surprise.
“We’ve got plenty of time to make another trip before dark, an’ as
there’s no tellin’ how soon the wreck may slide off into deep water, we
must save what we can while she’s on the reef.”
Ben recognized the necessity of immediate and unremitting action, and
he started at once for the shore, Gertie calling after him:
“Be sure to bring a pot to make tea in, or else Mammy Chloe will
be going out to buy one. She says she can’t stay if she don’t have
something warm to drink.”
“Rather than have her leave sudden-like we’ll get whatever she wants,”
Jake shouted cheerily, his usual look of melancholy taking flight for
the instant before old Chloe’s threat of leaving the island.
The small hawser which had been dragged ashore was made fast to the
nearest tree, and over it was passed the bight or middle of a rope,
after which the two ends were secured to the raft. There was now no
danger that the ferry-boat would drift away while the wreck remained
in its present condition, and the timbers could be easily and quickly
moved through the water.
The return to the brig was soon effected, and after the raft had been
fastened alongside, the work of taking out supplies was begun. Acting
upon Jake’s suggestion, Ben occupied himself with putting into the
smallest possible compass such of the bedding from the state-rooms
as would suffice for Gertie and old Chloe, and when that was done he
brought from the steward’s pantry all the packages of provisions which
could be most readily transported.
For his share of the work the cook had taken from the carpenter’s room
a few tools, a small quantity of cooking utensils from the lazarette,
and a collection of odds and ends such as Ben thought not worth the
labor of carrying away.
The one thing lacking to make up a plentiful supply was water, and of
that the small breaker which had been taken ashore on the first trip
was all that could be found. There was undoubtedly sufficient of the
precious fluid in the hold, but the labor of getting at it would be
more than Jake and Ben could perform in a week.
“We’ve got about as much as the clipper will carry dry,” the cook said
after his vain search for more water was brought to a close, “an’ we
may as well start. To-morrow we’ll come early, an’ I reckon something
drinkable will be found before the day is ended.”
When all the goods were loaded the raft was so deep in the water that
but very little more would have been needed to sink her beneath the
surface. As it was, the waves broke over the timbers several times
during the passage to the shore, greatly to the detriment of some of
the provisions.
Gertie and Chloe were on the beach when the wreckers arrived, and did
their share toward transferring the goods from the raft to the camp,
otherwise the task would not have been accomplished until after the
darkness had settled down over the tiny island. The night came when
the weary castaways were finally seated in front of the canvas shelter
enjoying the rest all so sadly needed.
Great as was old Chloe’s desire for tea, it could not be satisfied on
this day, for it was too late to hunt for materials with which to make
a fire, and another cold meal was partaken of with the promise from
Jake that on the following day “aunty” should have all the hot drinks
she wanted.
“Only agree that you won’t go away from this key to-night, an’ I’ll
stir myself right smart to-morrow to fix up a place where some cooking
can be done,” Jake said, and old Chloe gravely and seriously promised
to remain with the party under those conditions.
The bedding was spread beneath the canvas, and there was enough to make
Jake and Ben quite comfortable in the corner of the camp which they had
chosen as their own. The goods which might be injured by moisture were
piled under the shelter, and Jake had proposed that “all hands turn
in,” when the old negress said solemnly:
“De Lawd God ob Israel hab brought us up outer de waters same’s He did
His chillern from de Red Sea, an’ it ’pears like we’d oughter jes’ let
Him know we wasn’t ongrateful trash what forgets all about Him when
dere ain’t nuffin’ to git scared over.”
There was a perfect silence for some moments, during which Gertie laid
her hand on the black fingers, and then Jake, after moving uneasily
around, said:
“I reckon you’re right, aunty, an’ if you want to put in a word or two
for me, seein’s how sich an old shell-back as I am has kinder got outer
the way of prayin’, I’ll agree to everything you say, an’ thank you.”
Chloe did not stop for any mental preparation. Her heart was
overflowing with thanksgiving because of the peril which she had so
happily escaped, and from the fullness of it did the words flow freely.
Kneeling on the sand just outside the tent, the others in the same
position around her, with no covering save God’s jewel-studded sky, and
no noise to break the stillness save the sobbing of the waters held in
“the hollow of His hand,” the black woman gave thanks to her Maker in
speech that did not sound faulty because of the devotion which made the
trembling voice seem clear and sweet.
CHAPTER IX.
A MIDNIGHT VISITOR.
The castaways kept no watch during this night on their island home, and
for two very good reasons. They knew that there was no other person on
the key, and, that being the case, there was no one against whom they
should stand guard. In event of a sudden storm no further precautions
could be taken, and Jake and Ben, who slept near the front of the camp,
would be awakened by the first dash of rain, which was all that was
necessary.
Therefore it was that the little party laid down to sleep as soon as
Aunt Chloe’s prayer was ended, and no one thought of possible evil.
The key was so small that a single glance was sufficient to reveal
the probable fact of its being uninhabited by man or any other animal
larger than a mouse, and the castaways felt the most perfect sense of
security as they gave themselves up to the slumber which weighed so
heavily upon their eyelids.
When her devotions were ended old Chloe complained long and bitterly
because she had been deprived of her tea, and declared that she would
not be able to “sleep a wink” until after drinking two or three cups
of Young Hyson, but even while she grumbled and scolded, her eyes had
closed, not to be opened until all the occupants of the camp were
suddenly startled into wakefulness.
How long he had been in the land of Nod before he was aroused in a
fright by a loud shouting, Ben could form no idea. When he had lost
consciousness the regular breathing of Gertie and old Chloe told that
they were already in the region of dreams, and Jake was stretched out
by his side, yawning every few moments as if his head was about to
fly asunder. Then came a time when he may possibly have been dimly
conscious of resting, and suddenly a loud outcry that caused him to
spring to his feet at the same instant he opened his eyes.
“What’s the matter?” he shouted, trying in vain to peer into the tent,
and as he repeated the question an exclamation of mingled surprise and
fear from the female members of the party told that they were not the
cause of the noise which had aroused the camp.
“Come here, Ben! Come quick or we’ll lose him!” was heard in an
imperative tone from the beach, and there was no difficulty in
recognizing the voice as belonging to the ex-cook of the Sea Queen.
Full of wonder that Jake should be so far away from home when he was
as much in need of rest as any one, Ben started at full speed in the
direction from which the summons had been heard, shouting as he ran:
“All right; I’m coming!”
The moon shone round and bright in the heavens, causing the white sand
to glisten but little less than at noonday, and lighting up every
portion of the island, save where the trees cast black shadows, until
the smallest object could easily be discerned.
Before Ben had taken a dozen steps he was beyond the line of mangroves,
and could see far up on the beach the form of Jake alternately bending
over a huge round object and running to and fro as if he had suddenly
taken leave of his senses.
It was not until he was close upon the cook that he could make out what
had occurred, and then everything was readily understood.
Jake was doing his best to prevent a large turtle from scuttling away
into the water, by running in front of him, making a hideous outcry,
and trying from time to time to turn him on his back.
“Come on an’ help me tip this feller over!” the cook shouted as soon
as he saw Ben. “He must weigh three or four hundred pounds, an’ I’ve
pretty nigh pulled the arms out of me tryin’ to put him on his back.
I’ve been yellin’ to waken some of you people for the last half-hour,
an’ had begun to think I’d have to give up the job, for he’s gettin’
mighty close to the water.”
Ben had never had any experience in the work of turning turtles, but
he had heard enough about it to know that he could approach either
side or the rear of the huge shell without fear of injury, and he laid
hold with a will, the sand flying in every direction as the turtle was
finally laid on his back just as old Chloe came running up breathless
and excited.
The sight of the captive prevented any necessity for questions; but yet
it did not tell the whole story of what Jake had seen that night, for
he ran along the beach a short distance, and when he returned he had
his hat nearly full of small, white eggs.
“Where did you get them?” Gertie screamed in delight as the cook held
one in the air that there might be no question as to the nature of this
latest addition to their larder.
“The turtle left ’em here not half an hour ago,” Jake replied in a
tone of pride because of his success. “I was jest fallin’ off to sleep
when I ’spied her crawlin’ up out of the water, an’ I knew pretty nigh
what she was about. I crept after her as quiet as a cat goes for a
mouse, an’ waited ’till she’d made her nest an’ filled it. Then I tried
to tip her over, but the job was a little too much, an’ I had to yell
for Ben.”
Old Chloe and the cook were delighted with the capture; but Master
Clark did not think it a matter which called for any very great
amount of rejoicing. Had they been in want of food he would have felt
as highly elated as any one; but as it was, they had sufficient for
many weeks, and he did not consider a turtle, however large, anything
particularly valuable.
“We’ll live like lords for two or three days,” Jake said, looking at
the eggs much as if he was tempted to make an omelette even at that
late hour, “an’ after we have cleaned the shells I reckon we can
contrive to rig up a well that will keep us supplied with water.”
The cook did not explain how this could be done; but he appeared to be
so positive of success that to the others the turtle increased rapidly
in value, until all regarded it as a veritable prize.
Nearly half an hour was spent in commenting upon the captive and her
eggs, and then the little party retired to their canvas house, where
their slumbers were undisturbed until the sun peeped over the world
of waters at the tiny key which had so suddenly and unexpectedly been
peopled.
The chief work of the day was to be rafting goods from the wreck to the
shore, but before this was begun Jake killed the turtle and separated
the shells that old Chloe might make a soup for dinner. Ben gathered
quite a large pile of wood, and promised to bring something from the
brig which could be made to serve as a fire-place. The tea-famished
negress succeeded in brewing several cups of her favorite beverage for
breakfast by building a small fire on the sand directly under the pot,
and after the morning meal was ended the entire party went down to the
beach.
The water inside the reef was as calm as a mill-pond, and even outside
there was not a ripple on the glassy surface, which slowly rose and
fell in long undulations that struck the side of the wreck in a lazy
manner, as if too indolent to raise the slightest line of foam.
Gertie was eager to pay one more visit to the Simoon, and urged old
Chloe to take passage on the raft; but without avail. The mother of
Moses could not be persuaded to trust her precious body on the small
pile of timbers, even though assured that she might be of great
assistance in collecting such articles as would be useful while they
were forced to remain on the key. During the night she had begun to
understand that they were virtually prisoners on the narrow strip of
sand, and that she could not succeed in going away when she chose any
more than she could get employment from the inhabitants of their place
of refuge. She realized the possible horrors of her situation, and yet
if Jake had decided that it would be better to take to the raft in the
hope of reaching some port, it is extremely probable she would have
preferred to remain alone on the key rather than venture on the sea
which had caused her so much suffering.
Therefore her reply to Gertie’s proposition was a decided negative.
She seated herself in the shade of the mangrove which grew nearest the
beach, and the others started on the raft toward the wreck, propelling
their craft easily by pulling on the heavy hawser.
Despite the heat, which was growing more intense each moment, the
morning was an enjoyable one; the faint, salt-laden breeze which came
over the ocean was invigorating, and the castaways were too full of
animal spirits to dwell long upon what might ultimately be their fate
in case the key was situated in such shoal water that vessels would not
be likely to call there.
“Where do you suppose we are, Jake?” Ben asked as he and the cook
pulled at the hawser while Gertie sat Turk fashion on the highest
portion of the timbers.
“That’s jest what I’ve been tryin’ to figger out ever since the old
hooker struck the reef. I’ve often seen a chart of the Florida Straits,
an’ I don’t remember of any island standin’ by itself between Key West
and the Tortugas. Of course we couldn’t a’ drifted on to the Cuban
coast, an’ the only way I can fix it in my mind is that we’re to the
east’ard of the Nor’west Channel.”
“Would that bring us in the track of ships?”
“No; we’re clean off the course of everything unless it is the
turtle-fishers who sneak among all these keys in the reg’lar season,
which is pretty nigh over now. After we get through the job of wreckin’
we’ll look around our plantation a bit, an’ if we can see other small
islands south of here, we may make up our minds that we’re not so very
far from Cape Sable.”
“Where do you suppose the Sea Queen is?” Gertie asked in a tone such as
one uses when speaking of the dead.
“I reckon she’s cruisin’ ’round off the Marquesas with all hands on
the look-out. It ain’t likely Captain Irwin would keep on his course
without havin’ one try for us, though if he don’t see the boat after a
day or two he’ll conclude that some craft has picked us up.”
“You won’t have to go into the quack medicine business again for quite
a while,” Ben said with a smile.
“I’d rather be shipwrecked on the most desolate island that ever was
than go with _him_,” Gertie replied in a decided tone. “We haven’t got
a bad place in which to live; but if it was cold and wretched I’d be
happy because I’m away from that man.”
Master Clark was not quite prepared to spend the remainder of his days
on the key, but he was well content to stay there a long time in order
that Gertie might be separated from her step-father, and therefore the
two young castaways were in a very happy frame of mind.
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the raft at the
wreck; and after making the guiding-loop fast to a fragment of the
shattered rail, the three went on board the hulk which had proved to be
such a veritable place of refuge when they were drifting helplessly on
the fog-covered waters.
Jake lost no time in getting to work. His one desire was to find a
supply of water, and to that end all his efforts were directed. Gertie
searched through the cabin and state-rooms, as old Chloe proposed,
for such articles as might be converted into clothing, and procured a
quantity of sheets and bunting large enough to make quite an extensive
wardrobe. Ben’s first duty was to collect metal with which to build a
fire-place, and after succeeding he went into the lazarette, where he
found stowed in one corner, nearly hidden by a lot of cordage, three
cases of lime-juice.
The cook had worked harder than either of his companions, but without
accomplishing anything up to the time when Ben called to him that he
and Gertie had already gathered enough to make a load for the raft.
“Can’t you take it ashore?” Jake cried from the hold. “I’m working my
way down through the cargo----”
He was interrupted, and the children were positively terrified, by a
succession of piercing screams from the shore. That old Chloe was in
some great danger there seemed to be no doubt, but what had happened on
the uninhabited island no one could imagine.
Jake was out of the hold in an instant and joined Gertie and Ben, who,
with pale faces and dilated eyes, were gazing over the rail without
being able to see the evident sufferer, who continued to shriek in the
most frantic manner.
“Get onto the raft--never mind the goods. The old woman must have
fallen overboard!”
Jake knew as he spoke that such could not be the case, for if Chloe’s
head was above the water, as it must have been in order to permit such
an outcry, they would be able to see her. He did not stop to speculate
further, however, but leaping to the raft, closely followed by Gertie
and Ben, pulled desperately on the hawser, forcing the timbers through
the water until it bubbled and boiled around the bow, and all the while
the shrill cries of terror or distress rang out on the clear air with
painful distinctness.
CHAPTER X.
THE ISLAND SPECTER.
Under other circumstances it would have been almost impossible for the
three castaways to have pulled the raft ashore as quickly as they did
while old Chloe’s screams of terror caused them to strain every muscle,
and yet it seemed as if the rude craft was barely moving through the
water, so great was their anxiety.
“Where she has stowed herself away I can’t make out,” Jake muttered
as he glanced hastily from one portion of the island to the other. “I
wouldn’t ’sposed a rat could a hid hisself on this place, an’ yet big
as she is, I can’t see a sign of her anywhere.”
As soon as the raft was in shoal water the cook jumped overboard and
ran ashore, leaving the others to make the craft fast. The screams
were so nearly incessant as to be bewildering, but so far as he could
ascertain they came from the direction of the camp, and Jake made all
haste toward that point.
Gertie and Ben had but just landed when their companion disappeared
beneath the canvas, and they ran at full speed, arriving at the tent
in time to see the cook pull old Chloe out from under the bedding, she
still continuing to scream vigorously, while he cried angrily:
“What _is_ the matter, you foolish old woman? There’s nothing here to
trouble you, and if that noise ain’t stopped right soon I’ll shut it
off with my hand.”
This threat had no effect upon the old negress until it had been
repeated several times, and then as Gertie bent over her, she asked in
a voice that was trembling with fear:
“Whar is it, chile? Whar is it?”
“What do you mean, mammy! I don’t see anything here?”
“Hab it done gone for suah?” and the old woman raised herself
cautiously on her elbow as she gazed earnestly in every direction.
“Was it something you saw?” Ben asked as he also searched with his eyes
but discovered nothing.
“It was a ghos’, honey, a ghos’ all in white!”
“A ghost!” Jake repeated contemptuously. “She’s gone clean crazy, for
if the key ain’t large enough to hold animals, I’d like to know what
kind of a chance ghosts would have. I’ve heerd of shipwrecked folks
goin’ out of their heads, an’ that’s what’s happened to her.”
Although Jake appeared so brave, it could readily be seen that he
was not altogether comfortable in his mind. While speaking he looked
uneasily around, and once when the sound of the raft grating on the
sand was heard, loud and distinct, he started as if terrified by the
noise.
Gertie and Ben gazed at each other in silent amazement. Neither had
been taught to believe in such things as ghosts, and yet from the
expression on the faces of both Chloe and Jake, they could not doubt
but that the island had had some unearthly visitant.
“What did it look like?” Gertie asked in a low whisper.
“It was all white, chile, an’ great green eyes what was terrible.”
“Where was it?” Jake asked, visibly disturbed by the description of the
“ghost’s” eyes.
“Cluse to de water. I’se settin’ dere when bang! out it come from a
tree right in front ob me.”
Each of those who had been called in such haste from the brig had some
question to ask concerning the supposed ghost, and old Chloe gave
the fullest particulars. She was positive that something white, with
gleaming eyes, had leaped from the tree toward her, evidently with
the intention of carrying her away, and this she stoutly maintained,
regardless of the professed scepticism of her companions. After she
had sufficiently recovered from her fright as to be able to sit up
and sustain a connected conversation, her minute description of the
unearthly visitant was so vivid that her hearers were in a very
uncomfortable frame of mind.
She insisted that she would not sleep again on the key, and professed
perfect willingness to trust her precious self on the raft during a
trip to the wreck rather than remain where such horrible sights met
her gaze, but to this Jake made the most decided objections, although
it could plainly be seen that he had no especial desire to stay where
ghosts might become regular visitors.
“It never’d do at all to sleep on the brig,” he said. “If a storm
should come up during the night we couldn’t land while the sea was
runnin’ high, an’ it wouldn’t be much different from drownin’ yourself,
for the hulk is sure to go to pieces when the next high wind kicks up a
bobbery with the water.”
The cook spoke so earnestly that Chloe could not fail to be convinced
of the danger attending her proposed undertaking, and yet it was not
until after each member of the party had argued with her in turn that
she would consent to remain on the key. So great was her terror lest
she should see the unearthly thing again, that she did not agree to
even this until Gertie promised to remain close by her side during both
night and day.
It was nearly noon before the excitement died away sufficiently for Ben
and Jake to attend to work, and then they went back to the brig for the
load which had been collected ready for removal. Gertie was bound by
her promise to remain with old Chloe, but she insisted that the negress
should accompany her to the shore, where the movements of those on the
raft could be seen.
“Do you believe in ghosts, Jake?” Ben asked, after they had pulled so
far from the beach that the conversation would not be overheard.
“I wouldn’t like to say I didn’t,” Jake replied solemnly. “I’ve known
of men what have seen ’em by the dozen, an’ they could prove it, too,
by showin’ the very place where the ghost walked; but none ever come to
me, though I’ve given ’em lots of chances.”
“Then you think Chloe really did see one?”
“I ain’t sayin’ yes or no to that question,” was the cautious reply.
“We’ve got to stay on the key till some craft comes to take us off,
that’s certain, an’ it ain’t pleasant to think them things might pop up
in front of you at any time, so I’m goin’ out ghost-huntin’ this very
night.”
“What’ll you do if you find one?”
“Well, I’ll--I’ll--you see, Ben, I haven’t jest made up my mind what I
will do to the ghost, but I’ll tell you all about it if I see one.”
Then Jake launched forth on a number of specter stories, not even
ceasing when they were alongside the wreck, and he embellished each
with so many attendant horrors that Ben really felt disinclined to
enter the deserted cabin lest some horrible-looking object should
suddenly appear before him. The cook himself was not as eager as he had
been to go into the hold again in search of water, and decided that
they would be accomplishing quite as much as was necessary if they took
to the shore the load which had been made ready.
“It ain’t because of what that old nigger has been tellin’ that I
don’t care to stay on board,” he said quickly and with suspicious
earnestness, “but you see Gertie must be kinder frightened, an’ we
oughter get back as quick as we can.”
To load the raft required but a short while, and in less than an hour
from the time they left the shore Ben and Jake had returned, almost
disappointed because Gertie did not have some horrible tale to tell of
a ghost which played the same antics as when old Chloe was alone.
The goods were carried to the tent, and after this had been done the
male members of the party built quite a serviceable fire-place of the
odds and ends Ben brought ashore for that purpose.
“Shall we go back for another load?” Master Clark asked as soon as this
work was finished, and although but a few hours previous the cook had
been eager to take everything useful from the brig, he said promptly:
“I reckon the weather will hold fine a long spell yet, an’ we’ll have
plenty of time to attend to that. S’posen all hands walk around the
island an’ try to make out whereabouts we have been cast away? If there
are small keys to the south’ard we shall know our bearin’s to a dot.”
It seemed very much as if every member of the party hailed this
suggestion as a relief from their thoughts of ghosts, so quickly did
they accept it, and so rapidly did they walk away from the tent.
The line of march was taken up with Jake in advance, and Ben and Gertie
on either side of old Chloe. Directly across the little island they
went, not ceasing to glance back furtively from time to time until they
reached the opposite shore, and the cook declared he was as positive
he knew where their key was situated as if he had the chart spread out
before him.
“There are a lot of no account islands scattered around east of
Key West,” he said with the air of a man who knows he cannot be
contradicted, “an’ this is one of ’em. I can see as many as a dozen
way down on the horizon, not countin’ this rock close to us, an’ that
wouldn’t be the case if we were anywhere near the Marquesas or the
Tortugas.”
“Then there are no chances that many vessels will come in this
direction?” Ben said half-interrogatively, for since the advent of
Chloe’s ghost he was in a decided hurry to leave the island which had
appeared so fair to him in the morning.
“I s’pose turtle-catchers an’ sponge-fishers run in around here, but we
ain’t likely to see many others, for the coasters generally give this
place a pretty wide berth.”
This assertion was neither commented upon or doubted, for the very good
reason that no other member of the party knew anything regarding the
subject, and by tacit consent they started along the beach to make a
circuit of their now very unpleasant place of refuge.
By following the conformation of the shore the return journey was a
long one, but nothing either startling or wonderful was seen. That the
supply of shell-fish, in case they should be reduced to such a diet,
was sufficient for many months’ wants, all could understand after this
hasty examination of their island home, but they were not as interested
in this as would have been the case a few hours previous, and it was
with a sense of relief that they arrived at the camp.
Jake proposed that he and Chloe should make the turtle soup, and as
such an arrangement would keep the castaways together, the old woman
readily consented because of the companionship. But yet, despite the
knowledge of the terrible “thing” which had its home upon the island,
the partnership of the cooks was not harmonious. Each had different
views regarding soup-making, and were equally positive that his or
her plan was the best, therefore the pot was removed when, as both
believed, and it was the only point upon which they had agreed, that
the soup was done.
In this case too many cooks did not spoil the broth, for, as Ben said,
“it was fit to set before any king that ever lived,” and a hearty meal
did the castaways make.
From the time this combination of dinner and supper had been eaten
until nearly sunset, all the party remained near the tent, and then
Jake, calling Ben to one side, whispered:
“Tim Jinks, a shipmate of mine, allers said ghosts walked ’round more
lively after dark than in the day-time. Now I ain’t sayin’ as I believe
what the old woman told; but if there’s any queer things on this island
I want to get away from it jest as quick as I can, so I’m goin’ to hunt
a bit. You can tell the others that I’ve gone out to the brig, an’ if I
ain’t here by the time you want to turn in, go to sleep, for I’m bound
to settle this question before I come back.”
Ben would have tried to persuade the cook to abandon his rash plan had
he not spoken in such a tone of determination. As it was, he thought it
wisest to remain silent, and Jake walked away looking like a man who is
ready to sacrifice his life for the safety of his friends.
It was not necessary that Master Clark should tell an untruth in order
to keep his companion’s secret, for neither old Chloe nor Gertie seemed
to think there was anything strange in Jake’s absence; they probably
fancied he had gone to the wreck, for no comment was made until after
night had fully come, and then Gertie asked why he did not return.
“He said if he wasn’t back before dark we should go to bed,” Ben
replied, and he carried out these instructions at once, the others
following his example without delay.
An hour later the occupants of the camp were wrapped in slumber, and
the cook was still absent. The moon was shining brightly, the murmur
of the sea was low and sweet, and a better night for ghost hunting it
would be difficult to see.
Ben was lying near the front of the tent, dreaming perhaps that he
was already in command of a large ship, when he was awakened by being
roughly pulled onto his feet, and at the same instant he heard Jake
whisper hoarsely and excitedly:
“Come out where the women folks won’t hear.”
He obeyed this command for the very good reason that the cook literally
dragged him along, and when they were twenty yards from the tent he
heard a wonderful tale.
“There _is_ a ghost on this island, lad, for I’ve jest seen it! About
five minutes ago a thing all in white, with fire comin’ out of its
eyes, run right at me, an’ I got back here as quick as I could. It was
an awful lookin’ sight, Ben, an’ I tell you we ain’t safe on this ’ere
place--we’ve got to make a move if we have to swim for it.”
CHAPTER XI.
CATCHING THE GHOST.
Ben had been inclined to doubt Chloe’s statement regarding the
appearance of a ghost; but now, corroborated as it was by Jake, he
could no longer question it. The cook had gone out specter hunting,
which in itself was sufficient to prove that he did not give full
credence to the old woman’s words, and he had actually found that very
disagreeable thing for which he sought. The boy fancied he could feel a
cold chill in the marrow of his bones, and he was quite sure his hair
was standing up like bristles in a clothes-brush.
“How big was it, Jake?” he asked as he clutched the cook’s hand tightly
lest the horrible thing might come to separate them.
“Well, it wasn’t overly big, lad, an’ that’s a fact. The size don’t
count in sich creeters as that, an’ a little feller is as bad as a
reg’lar giant.”
“But how large was it?”
“I wasn’t so pertec’lar as to measure,” Jake said slowly and in the
most thrilling of whispers; “but as near as I could see before startin’
kinder sudden for the tent, I’d reckon it was as big as a dog. It was
white, with a long tail that stood up straight like the liberty pole on
Marsh’s Common.”
“Don’t you s’pose you could kill it?” Ben asked after another pause,
during which he fancied he heard strange noises in the air.
“Kill a ghost?” Jake repeated as if the mere suggestion of such a thing
filled him with horror. “Don’t you know, lad, that cannon-balls could
go right through them things without hurtin’ ’em a bit?”
Ben had heard of this peculiarity on the part of unearthly visitors,
but was never positive of the fact until at this minute, and the
knowledge made him yet more frightened as well as despondent.
“What _can_ we do, Jake?”
“We’ve got to get outer this place.”
“I don’t see how we shall be able to do that until some vessel comes.”
“We must take to the raft, an’ run our chances among the keys to the
south’ard. If the old woman won’t go with us peaceably, we’ll either
have to leave her, or lash her right down to one of the timbers where
she can’t help herself.”
If anything had been needed to prove that Jake was thoroughly
alarmed by what he had seen, the unfolding of this plan would have
been sufficient. He had spoken very positively several times since
the Simoon struck the reef of the folly of attempting to reach any
inhabited place in a raft that could be neither guided or propelled,
and yet now he was willing and eager to try the experiment, knowing all
the dangers to be encountered.
“When shall we start?” Ben asked faintly.
“One full day’s work will be enough to strengthen our raft so that it
will carry plenty of provisions an’ us four. Then we can leave day
after to-morrow mornin’, an’ sha’n’t have to stay but one more night in
this place where ghosts come right up outer the ground.”
Ben was quite as willing to brave the dangers of the raft, rather than
run the risk of an encounter with the specter, as was the cook, and he
made no objection to the proposed plan.
Neither felt inclined to lie down again while they were surrounded by
so many terrors, and yet it would be hard to walk around all night,
therefore they compromised by sitting in front of the tent, where they
conversed in whispers until both fell into uneasy and uncomfortable
slumber, which was rendered painful by visions of horrible monsters
stalking about in search of shipwrecked people whom they roasted on
red-hot gridirons.
It can easily be imagined that they did not make any attempt to court
sleep next morning. As soon as the first gray light of the coming day
appeared in the sky Jake began to prepare breakfast, and Ben busied
himself with useless work around the camp lest he might be asked to go
to the raft, for he had no desire to wander off by himself while the
ghost made a dwelling-place of their key.
The noise and odor of the cooking soon aroused Gertie and old Chloe,
who could not fail to notice that something was amiss with their
companions, and when they begun to ask questions, Jake told the story
of his too successful search, concluding it by announcing that he was
going away on the raft next morning.
Gertie was alarmed, as a matter of course, and the old woman was
plunged into a state of helpless terror. It was impossible for her to
make any intelligible remark. She crouched on the ground with uplifted
hands and rolling eyes, the very personification of fear, and with a
grayish pallor replacing the usually shining black of her face. Not
once did she attempt any protest against embarking on the raft, and
since she was the only one from whom objections to the plan might be
expected, Jake and Ben looked upon the matter as settled.
As soon as breakfast had been eaten, the entire party went down to the
shore, and the work of making a seaworthy craft out of the hastily
constructed raft was begun, Chloe acting the part of a most interested
spectator, as if eager to escape from the key regardless of the peril
attendant upon the voyage.
It was necessary the workmen should have more material than had been
lashed together when only a substitute for a ferry-boat was needed, and
to this end Ben and Jake pulled out to the brig, bringing back with
them the doors of the cabin and state-rooms, as well as such timbers
as could readily be torn from their fastenings. They also secured a
quantity of rope, a hammer and a few spikes, which made the labor
decidedly lighter.
Jake was unwilling to spend the time necessary for the preparation for
dinner because he thought it more important that they be ready to leave
the key at the earliest possible moment, and old Chloe could not be
persuaded to go back to the tent, so great was her fear that she might
again be confronted by the specter. Ben was willing, though not eager,
to do what he could in the matter of serving the meal, but he was
needed at the beach to assist the chief raft-builder, therefore Gertie
was obliged to play the part of cook.
“I can light a fire and heat the soup,” she said as she started toward
the tent, “and after that has been done I’ll call you.”
“Don’t sing out till everything is ready,” Jake cried by way of
caution, “for we mustn’t waste so much as a single minute.”
“Be keerful ob youseself, honey,” old Chloe said in a trembling voice,
and Gertie went on, trying to appear brave, although she felt decidedly
nervous.
During nearly an hour longer the raft-builders worked industriously,
while the spectator watched every movement, and then the clear voice of
Gertie could be heard summoning the ghost-ridden ones to dinner.
“Hurry up, aunty,” Jake said as he dropped timbers and rope, and came
out of the water in which he had been wading nearly to his knees.
“We’re goin’ to make a short job of the eatin’ business, for I don’t
have any notion of stayin’ in this blessed place more’n one night
longer.”
Old Chloe never moved more quickly than at that moment, when she feared
being left to go alone to the tent. Had Jake walked as rapidly again,
she would probably have succeeded in keeping as close by his side as
she did until they were within sight of Gertie, who was sitting near
the fire fondling some white object.
One glimpse of that which the child held in her arms, and the old
woman shrieked as she threw up her hands and sunk a helpless mass of
quivering flesh on the sand:
“Dar’s de ghos’, an’ it’ll murder dat lubley chile!”
Jake glanced quickly toward the girl, and then suddenly stepped back as
if meditating flight, but in an instant he recovered his composure as
Ben shouted:
“Where _did_ you find that cat, Gertie?”
“It came right up to me while I was getting dinner, and it must have
been most starved to death if the way it ate cold soup is any sign. At
first I thought it was Mammy Chloe’s ghost, and was just ready to run
and scream when I heard it cry. Isn’t she pretty--pure white, with not
a colored hair on her?”
Jake’s confusion was comical in the extreme. He walked slowly toward
Gertie as he examined the animal narrowly, and then turned to look at
the raft as he plunged his hands deep in his pockets and gave vent to a
prolonged whistle. He did not stop to question how a cat came on that
desolate island, for he was thoroughly abashed by the unmistakable
fact that he had run away in fright from a half-starved, harmless
animal, and positively declared that it was a specter. The gleam of
the suffering creature’s eyes he had believed to be fire, and the tail
standing “straight like the liberty-pole on Marsh’s common” had simply
been magnified by his fears.
The cook had no idea of allowing himself to be held up to ridicule by
Ben and Gertie if he could prevent it, therefore he said with more
earnestness than truth:
“When I saw that thing I wasn’t so very certain what it was, but I
thought we’d better get away from here as soon as we could so’s to keep
the old woman quiet. Now she sees it’s only a cat, I hope she won’t be
so foolish.”
Gertie ceased petting the animal long enough to look up at the cook
with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes, but she refrained from making
any remark, and Jake begun to point out to old Chloe the very foolish
mistake she had made, as a means of hiding her own confusion.
It was not an easy matter to convince the negress that she had seen
nothing more terrifying than a cat. After considerable urging she
consented to look at the animal, and then, while admitting there was
a slight resemblance between it and what had so alarmed her, insisted
that it was a veritable ghost which she had met on the day previous.
Jake did not try very hard to induce the old woman to confess she had
made a mistake, for he had been equally foolish, and did not care to
have the fact brought out too prominently. When Chloe positively denied
having transformed a cat into a ghost, he said in a matter-of-fact
tone, and one which was remarkably free from fear, considering how
thoroughly he had been alarmed but a few moments previous:
“Of course the cat looks a good deal like what we saw, but if she says
it ain’t, that settles it, an’ the ghost is still roamin’ ’round the
island. Howsomever, now that Gertie an’ Ben have got over bein’ scared,
I don’t s’pose we’d better be in sich a hurry about leavin’.”
Against this decision old Chloe made no protest, and it was remarked
privately by the younger members of the party that she seemed suddenly
to have lost all fear, which was singular to say the least, if she
was still firmly convinced she had seen and been chased by something
unearthly.
After dinner, during which each of the castaways fed the cat as if she
had rendered some valuable service, no mention was made of the proposed
work on the raft. Jake composed his angular body in the best position
for repose under the shade of a tree, and begun leisurely to smoke as
if there was nothing urgent demanding his attention. Old Chloe bustled
around the camp setting things generally to rights with apparently not
a thought of making a hurried departure, and Gertie and Ben held an
earnest and confidential conversation regarding the events which had
caused so much terror and excitement.
It seemed as if the relief at finding that the ghost was only a large,
half-starved cat was so great that Jake felt it necessary to spend the
remainder of the afternoon in silent thanksgiving, for he did not even
hint that it would be well to pay a visit to the brig before sunset,
and deeply did he regret his indolence when another day dawned.
Just before twilight a supper of turtle-steaks, with plenty of boiled
eggs, was served, and old Chloe evinced her gratitude because of the
“laying of the ghost,” by making an enormous quantity of very strong
tea, which she drank while a look of happiness made her face shine
as if it had been a piece of ebony treated to an unusually vigorous
application of furniture polish.
By the time the meal was finished the little party were glad to seek
the shelter of their tent, for with the setting of the sun the wind
sprang up from the north, and in an instant the warm air gave place to
that which seemed icy cold.
The storm known as “a norther” was upon them, and it was even more
disagreeable than Jake had declared it would be.
Every article which could be used as a covering was brought into
requisition, and, although the shipwrecked ones were completely buried
under the weight of blankets and canvas, they shivered and complained
as if exposed to the fury of an Arctic gale.
The little party suffered quite as much from fear as from the cold, for
as the wind increased in force the tent swayed back and forth until
finally it was lifted entirely from its fastenings and thrown among the
trees, leaving the castaways shelterless in the darkness of the night
exposed to a pitiless storm.
CHAPTER XII.
AFTER THE NORTHER.
It was the piercing cold, the shrieking of the wind and the roaring of
the waters rather than the storm itself that bewildered the castaways
when the tent was blown away as if it had been only a bit of paper.
No one appeared to be capable of even trying to devise some means by
which they might be sheltered from the pitiless wind, but all crouched
helplessly amid the heavy packages, which served in some slight degree
to protect them from the icy blast.
Impossible as it was to distinguish any objects save those close at
hand, unable to converse with each other because of the raging of the
elements, which would have drowned even the booming of cannon, fearing
lest the gale should increase in force until they themselves were
blown from the low-lying island, and at times nearly suffocated by the
whirling sand which enveloped them as with a cloud of smoke, the little
party felt to the full their desolate condition.
It was a situation not equaled in agony of suspense by the night on the
drifting wreck, for then it was possible to speak cheering words and to
look into each other’s face with the knowledge that if death claimed
more victims all would perish together--not that one might be left to
struggle and finally yield while alone.
Each moment of the hours that passed until the dawn came again was
filled with misery for the wretched ones who crouched amid the ruins of
their temporary home, and the seconds went so slowly that it could well
be fancied the night would never end, but pass with all its horrors
into eternity.
When the sun did finally come up from out his bath in the sea to still
the winds, he looked upon a scene of destruction which had entirely
changed the appearance of the little island. The trees, with but two
exceptions, were broken or uprooted; the sand had been furrowed here
in long ridges, or piled there in mounds, until where once had been
a level surface was now a succession of tiny hills and valleys, and
around all was a sparkling, leaping band of milky white as the waves
churned themselves into foam against the coral shore.
Where had lain the wreck of the Simoon was a long line of crested
waves, which towered upward as if in glee at having swept away the
last vestige of the handiwork man had pitted against their strength.
The raft upon which so much labor had been bestowed had also vanished,
leaving no trace behind, save here and there a plank or timber thrown
high up on the beach. Of the stores taken from the brig but little
remained uninjured; some were partially buried in the sand, others
ruined by the moisture, and not a few literally blown away. The
water-breaker and about a dozen cans of beef were intact, but the
soup and turtle eggs were no longer eatable. The storm had left the
castaways hardly more than provisions enough to suffice for three days’
consumption.
The cat was numbered among the sudden disappearances of the night.
Gertie’s first thought, when the sun dispelled the darkness, was of her
pet, but she was nowhere to be found. She was in the tent when the
wind carried the canvas away, but from that time no one had seen or
heard of her; and, strange as it may seem, when they had lost all that
was valuable to them, the castaways were more troubled about her than
they were by the breaking up of their base of supplies.
“She nebber was no mortal cat,” old Chloe said positively, and with
just a suspicion of fear in her voice. “I knowed that when she fust
came, an’ now I’se sure she’s a voodou what brought de storm wid her.”
“More likely she got blown overboard,” Jake replied impatiently. “There
was one spell I thought we’d all go, an’ that’s when she went.”
Gertie looked seriously troubled. The cat had come to her as if for
protection, and at the same time cleared up what was a very painful
mystery, therefore the child felt as if she had neglected that which
should have been an especial duty by not thinking first of the animal
when the storm burst.
“It’s no use to stand here fussin’ when we’ve got so many other things
to trouble us,” Jake said after he had searched unsuccessfully for the
missing pet. “We must look out for ourselves pretty sharp now, or we’ll
soon be nearer starved than the cat was. Ben, you an’ me will try and
get our tent back, an’ if aunty an’ Gertie want to do anything, they
can hunt for the provisions that have been buried in the sand.”
Old Chloe did not make any move toward carrying out this suggestion.
Her superstitious fears had returned with the supposed discovery that
the cat was a voodou in disguise, and she was not willing to be left
alone with only Gertie as a protector, therefore all four went in
search of the missing tent.
This portion of their work was quickly done. The top-gallant sail was
found about one hundred yards from the site of the camp, so firmly
wound around the roots of an overturned tree that considerable labor
was necessary before it could be removed. It was soon stretched again
between the two remaining mangroves, this time lashed so securely that
its supports would be torn away before it could be loosened, and hardly
was it in place when old Chloe uttered a piercing shriek as she sunk in
an undignified and decidedly ungraceful attitude on the sand, covering
her black face with her yet blacker hands.
“What’s come over that nigger now?” Jake cried angrily, and as he
turned to learn the cause of the old woman’s sudden collapse he saw the
cat running at full speed toward Gertie.
The ex-cook of the Sea Queen had convinced himself by actual contact
that the animal was not unearthly, and he could well afford to laugh
as heartily as did Gertie and Ben at the negress’ fright, which was as
genuine as it was prolonged.
Unquestionably the cat had a hiding place where she knew she would be
safe in a storm, and fled to it during the first wild burst of the
tempest, but did not dare to return until the erection of the tent
showed that her new-found friends were still there.
Gertie took the little creature in her arms, caressing it fondly
to atone for past neglect, and by degrees old Chloe recovered her
equanimity; but even when her fright had subsided she would neither
touch nor look at the cat, which she still insisted was something more
than an ordinary animal.
“I’se heerd ob dem tings, an’ I’se knowed cullered pussons what hab
done bin killed by ’em,” she replied when Gertie insisted that there
was nothing to be feared from this dumb castaway. “Don’ bring her nigh
me, chile; don’t do it, kase I’se los’ de rabbit-foot what Mose gin me.”
“You don’t need any rabbit’s-foot to pertect you agin a half-starved
cat,” Jake said with such a hearty burst of laughter that a stranger
would never have suspected he had been frightened out of nearly every
one of his seven senses by the same harmless animal.
After the excitement caused by the return of Gertie’s pet subsided, and
the old woman had so far become reconciled to the supposed “voodou” as
to be willing to remain in the same tent with it, Jake proposed that
they all go to the beach in search of wreckage.
“Something useful may come ashore,” he said, “an’ we’re cut down to
sich short allowance now that we’ve got to run across a few eatables,
or stand a good chance of starvin’ to death.”
Any kind of work was better than remaining at the tent where everything
reminded them of this third disaster, and they set out at once, old
Chloe leading the way with wonderful agility that she might keep at a
respectful distance from the alleged supernatural cat.
Although the storm had cleared away, the wind was blowing very strong
from the west, and the sea towered up as high and menacing as in the
early morning. The undertow was yet too powerful to admit of anything
being washed ashore, and the little party searched over the entire
northern side of the island without finding more than a broken plank or
shattered cask.
“Some of the stuff will be sure to come up by mornin’, an’ if you and
me, Ben, keep a sharp watch to-night I reckon it’ll more’n pay for
the trouble. We needn’t expect even the smallest kind of a turtlin’
schooner till after the sea gets quieted down a little, an’ the best
thing we can do now is to fix up our camp so’s it’ll look sorter
homelike.”
As Jake spoke he turned toward the tent once more, and old Chloe begun
to cast nervous glances at the cat which Gertie held tightly clasped
in her arms, but made no protest at going where she would necessarily
be near the innocent cause of her fear until when the girl would have
remained close by her side.
“I’se done gwine ter walk ’lone, chile. You an’ Ben kin go off wid
yerselves, kase I’se got no call for ter stay ’roun dat wuffless cat.”
“I do believe you’re afraid of her yet,” Ben cried merrily as he
stroked the little animal who was purring a loud song of perfect
content in her young mistress’ arms.
Chloe did not deign to reply, but loitered behind the others until they
were so far in advance that she could make good her escape in case the
“voodou” should take upon itself some different and more terrifying
form than that of a cat.
So far as her peace of mind was concerned, perhaps it was well she
lingered, for when the other three entered the tent Gertie put her pet
down for a moment in order to aid Jake and Ben in tightening some of
the ropes which held the canvas in place, and on looking for the cat an
instant later failed to find any traces of her.
All were decidedly alarmed now. It was positive the dumb castaway
had not left the tent, for there was but one opening--directly in
front--just outside of which they had been standing.
Jake peered cautiously under the canvas when he heard Gertie’s low cry
of surprise and alarm, and then he looked timidly around the key, as he
said in a hoarse whisper to Ben, wiping the big drops of perspiration
from his forehead:
“There’s no use talkin’, old Chloe come pretty nigh bein’ right when
she said the thing was a voodou. There ain’t any question ’bout it now,
an’ I thought all along that we was laughin’ too quick, but I didn’t
wanter scare you children.”
By this time Gertie had come out of the tent and stood looking at her
companions, who remained motionless, as if fear had suddenly changed
them into statues.
“There is some place around here where she hides, and we must find
it or Aunt Chloe will have another spell,” she said, speaking to Ben
rather than Jake. “You are not so foolish as to think there can be
anything unnatural about her?”
“No,” Ben said with an effort; “we’ll hunt over every inch of the key,
an’ perhaps we can find the hole, for she must have one somewhere.”
“If you take my advice you’ll both stay right here with me,” Jake said
solemnly. “Tim Jinks, my old shipmate, knowed of a cat that could
change----”
Gertie had no idea of waiting to hear the conclusion of what was
probably some blood-curdling tale; the name of Tim Jinks was
sufficient guarantee that a particularly horrible ghost story was to
be related, and before Jake could get further on in it than this brief
introduction, she led Ben inside the tent.
The cook looked furtively around when he was left alone, as if
questioning whether companionship would not be preferable, even if he
was forced to face the unknown danger, to remaining alone; but a single
thought of the cat Tim Jinks had known was enough to send him away very
rapidly from that undesirable locality.
Old Chloe had seated herself on a little hillock of sand, midway
between the beach and the trees, where she could have timely warning
in case any horrible thing approached, and Jake bent his steps in that
direction.
He was on the point of explaining why the children remained behind,
taking no heed of the spasm into which the old woman would most
assuredly be thrown, when a loud cry from Ben caused him to turn once
more in alarm.
“Come here, Jake, an’ be quick about it! The cat has been hidin’ in
a hole at the foot of one of the trees, an’ there’s a box in it that
looks like a little trunk! If you’ll help me we’ll soon dig it out.”
CHAPTER XIII.
A SINGULAR COINCIDENCE.
The mere mention of anything being concealed on that desolate key
suggested hidden treasure to Jake, and in an instant he had forgotten
his fears of the cat, concerning whose sudden disappearances there
could now be nothing mysterious, if Ben and Gertie had really found her
place of refuge.
“Come on, aunty!” he cried excitedly. “The youngsters have discovered
what I reckon must be pirates’ gold, for they do say these keys used to
be thick with ’em.”
Chloe had not been able to understand what Ben said, and of Jake’s
invitation it seemed as if she heard nothing save the one word,
“pirate.” The sight of the supposed voodou had frightened her out of
nearly all her senses, and this last announcement completed the work.
“For de Lawd’s sake, don’ go ’way now, Massa Jake!” she cried
imploringly, making several ineffectual efforts to rise to her feet.
“Ef de pirates done gone come we’se dead, suah, an’ what’ll a po’ ole
nigger woman do when she’s lef’ alone?”
It had never flashed across the cook’s mind that even the most timid
could take alarm at his very natural proposition, and he was off before
Chloe began to speak, rushing into the tent in the highest state of
excitement.
“What have you found, lad?” he cried. “Show it to me! Tim Jinks knowed
men who allers said there was plenty of gold buried on these keys, an’
perhaps our gettin’ lost in the fog is goin’ to turn out a mighty lucky
thing for us.”
It was only necessary for Ben to point toward a small hole, which
evidently extended some distance beneath one of the mangrove trees, and
in an instant Jake was on his knees.
“I don’t see any box,” he said impatiently, as he peered into the
aperture.
“Reach your hand in and you can feel it. The place must be pretty big,
’cause we couldn’t see anything of the cat while she was there, an’ we
only knew where she had hidden herself by Gertie’s calling two or three
times.”
Jake began his investigations in the manner suggested by Ben, and
a few seconds later his excitement had increased to such an extent
that it was only after considerable difficulty he could calm himself
sufficiently to speak intelligibly.
“Run after some of them barrel-staves we saw on the beach,” he cried.
“The thing, whatever it is, has been there so long that we’ll have to
do a good deal of diggin’ before we can get it out.”
While Ben was obeying this command the cat left the tent, and old
Chloe’s screams were so loud and piercing that there could be no doubt
as to the direction in which the animal had gone.
“That nigger would provoke the mildest-mannered man who ever lived,”
Jake said angrily, forgetting how short a time had elapsed since he
also was quite as much afraid of the half-starved cat. “I’d like to
lash somethin’ over her mouth so’s we could hear ourselves think.”
“Perhaps Kitty’s tail is sticking straight up like the liberty-pole
on Marsh’s common, and you know such a sight would scare almost any
one,” Gertie said mischievously, as she left the tent to quiet the old
woman’s fears, while Jake’s face grew very red as he muttered, half to
himself:
“Nobody would a’ thought of findin’ a cat in this place, an’ even Tim
Jinks hisself might a’ been flustered for a minute.”
Although there was no one near to hear this apology, the cook appeared
to feel relieved because it had been made, and once more turned his
attention to the supposed treasure. He dug away the sand with his hands
in his eagerness to unearth it, and when Ben arrived with an armful of
broken staves from a cask which had been washed ashore, the aperture
was enlarged until it was possible to have a reasonably good view of
what the children believed to be a small trunk.
“It’s a box strapped with canvas,” he said as Ben entered the tent,
“an’ looks to me as if it had belonged to a sailor-man, consequently we
must a’ struck the pirates’ gold.”
“We sha’n’t be long findin’ out all about it,” Ben replied as he
began to use one of the staves after the manner of a shovel, and Jake
following his example immediately, the sand was soon flying in a cloud.
It was far from being as easy, however, to remove the box as had
been supposed. The smaller roots of the tree covered one end almost
completely, and not until these were cut away could it be pulled to the
surface.
Gertie, with the alleged supernatural cat following close behind,
came into the tent as this portion of the work was accomplished, and
what she saw was not calculated to convey the impression that any very
valuable discovery had been made.
A dilapidated-looking box, about two feet long, half as high and twice
as wide, with one end badly decayed, and the canvas straps which held
it together black and rotten, was on the sand, while Jake bent over it
as if almost afraid to solve the mystery now that it could be done so
easily.
Chloe gazed at this evidence that the key had been visited by man at
least once before, with such absorbing interest that she failed even to
see the cat, who was rubbing against her dress in a friendly fashion,
and the others appeared as if fascinated by the not particularly
pleasant-looking sight, until Ben cried impatiently:
“Why don’t you open it, Jake? What’s the use of standin’ here starin’
at a thing when it won’t take two minutes to find out what’s inside?”
The cook started suddenly, as if for the moment he had forgotten where
he was, and then with his pocket-knife proceeded to cut such of the
bands as yet remained whole, the cover falling off as the last one was
severed.
An exclamation of disappointment burst from Jake’s lips as the contents
of the box were revealed. He had fully expected to find it filled with
gold or valuables of some kind, despite the fact that it was far from
being heavy, and when nothing but mouldy clothing met his eager gaze it
appeared as if he believed he had just cause for complaint because his
anticipations were not realized.
“I call that a mighty mean piece of business,” he said indignantly.
“Nobody had any right to bury old duds as if they was gold.”
“Perhaps there is something in it besides clothes,” Ben suggested.
“Then hunt for it if you want to, I’m through,” and Jake seated himself
on the sand in a very grief stricken attitude.
“But how could clothes be buried under the trees if no one lives here?”
Gertie asked curiously as Ben begun to pull the musty garments from the
box.
“I reckon some sailor got wrecked on this key,” Jake replied in an
angry tone, “an’ he was sich a howlin’ swell that he thought more of
his duds than he did of hisself. He mighter knowed they’d a sp’iled in
two or three months. Tim Jinks once----”
“There _is_ something else here!” Ben exclaimed as he held up a small
but heavy canvas bag and shook it. “That sounds like money, anyway.”
Jake was on his feet in an instant, and breaking the string which was
around the mouth of the bag, poured its contents on the sand in front
of Gertie, the gloomy look on his face changing to one of satisfaction
as a large number of gold coins were exposed to view.
“I reckon there’s nigh onto a thousand dollars in the pile, which ain’t
so bad considerin’ that it looked one spell as if what we’d found
wasn’t worth the trouble of luggin’ it away.”
“There’s something besides money here,” Gertie said as she took a paper
from the bag which Jake had thrown aside, believing it to be empty.
“It’s a letter, and directed to ‘Whoever finds my dun--dun--’ I can’t
exactly make out some of the writing, but it looks like ‘dunnage.’”
“I reckon that’s what it is. A sailor allers calls his traps dunnage;
but go ahead an’ read what he says. I’d like to know why he left his
money here when most folks would a’took it away--that is,” Jake added
solemnly, “if they could get off theirselves.”
“It’s dated eight years ago,” Gertie said as she deciphered the faded
writing only after the greatest difficulty, while the others stood
close beside her that not a word should be lost. “It’ll take a good
while to read it because some of the words are almost rubbed out.”
“Go ahead the best you can,” Ben said impatiently, “an’ skip the part
that’s hard.”
Slowly, hesitating now and then over some portion, the meaning of which
was obscure, or spelling here and there an entire sentence, Gertie read
what was in reality a message from the dead, while Ben’s face exhibited
alternately the varying emotions of astonishment, grief and something
very nearly approaching fear.
“I am writing this with but little hope that it will ever be read,” the
letter, manuscript or whatever it should be called, began, “and yet I
pray that God may send--not as I came, but from motives of curiosity or
pleasure--some one to this desolate key who will convey these, my last
words, to my wife and little ones. My name is Isaac Clark, and I did
live in Savannah.”
At this point Jake looked toward Ben, whose face had grown very pale,
and who said in a low tone, much as if the cook had asked a question:
“That was my father’s name, and he was lost at sea a good many years
ago.”
“Go on, Gertie,” Jake said with a gesture of impatience, and then he
added half to himself: “It would be the most curious thing I ever heard
about if the boy had been cast away on the very key where his father
died.”
“I am, or was, first mate of the brig Flying Scud,” Gertie continued,
reading in a low, solemn tone, “which left Savannah on the fourth of
last month, just forty days ago, bound for Key West. Off Cape Florida
we run into a nor’easter. In eighteen hours the brig was dismasted,
and while trying to clear away the wreckage every soul except me was
swept overboard. My left arm had been broken two hours before, when
both boats were stove, and I was in the cabin at the time of the last
disaster, which accounts for my being the only survivor, spared from
the sea to die miserably on this coral reef alone. For two days the
wreck was tossed about just outside the chain of keys, and then she
came ashore here, thrown broadside on the southerly end, hanging there
only twenty-four hours before being carried away again by a norther
which destroyed every vestige of her except the few things I had
managed to drag into this clump of mangroves. I have rigged up a decent
kind of a tent from some spare canvas, and would have every reason
to believe I could reach the main land by means of a raft but for my
broken arm. I tried to set the bones, but a man with one arm cannot
make much of a fist at playing the surgeon on himself, and the end is
now very near. Mortification has already begun, and I am doomed to lie
here seeing my body die slowly while my mind is sufficiently active to
note every change.”
Gertie’s eyes were so full of tears that she was forced to stop a
moment, and it appeared as if the brief interruption in this record of
suffering was a welcome one to the listeners. Jake opened the flap of
the tent to hide his face by looking out over the angry waters, while
Ben crouched on the sand sobbing, for it seemed as if he was by the
side of his dying father, as he had been with his mother and brother in
their last moments.
“Is there any more of it?” Jake asked after a long silence, during
which the thunder of the surf as it beat against the coral shore filled
the air with a sound as of impotent grief.
“Only a few lines,” Gertie replied, and then brushing the moisture from
her eyes again, she continued:
“I shall inclose this letter in the money-bag which contains all my
earnings, taken from home with the intention of investing them in Key
West, and place the box in a hole which I have scraped out under the
roots of this tree. Probably it will never be found, since if this
lonely place is ever visited, it is hardly likely there will be a
thought of searching beneath the surface, but it is the only chance,
for during the next high wind every movable article, including my
poor body, must necessarily be swept from the key. If it should be
discovered, however, I charge the finder, if he would aid the widow and
fatherless, to send the money to Mrs. Isaac Clark, care of Gibson and
Deane, Savannah, Georgia, and may God in His infinite goodness reward
him.
“To my beloved wife and darling children I send the blessing of a dying
husband and father, praying now, as I shall with my last breath, that
they may be kept from sorrow and all bodily suffering, after the first
pangs occasioned by my death shall have passed away.”
The letter, discolored by age and dampness, as with the tears of the
unfortunate man who wrote it, was finished, while the three castaways
sat around the box from which it had been taken looking mutely at each
other, and the silence was not broken until a voice of distress could
be heard in the distance, calling feebly:
“Gertie! Honey! Whar is you? Hab de pirates done gone lugged you off
for suah? Don’ yer hear po’ ole Aunty Chloe?”
Ben paid no attention to this cry, which under other circumstances his
ears would have been open to so quickly, and Jake motioned for Gertie
to leave the tent, saying when they were a short distance away:
“It’s kinder like as if he was to his father’s funeral, an’ the best
thing we can do is leave the poor little feller alone while we try to
make Chloe stop her yellin’.”
The last portion of the self-imposed task was not so easy of
accomplishment. Even when the old woman saw the two before her, she was
still almost frantic with fear, and not until after at least fifteen
minutes had been spent trying to explain the situation of affairs could
she be reduced to a condition of partial quietude.
She finally came to understand what had been found, and then more than
ever was she convinced that supernatural influences were at work on the
island; but her terror was less noisy, and this, to Jake at least, was
a decided change for the better.
“Let’s you and I hunt for the tea and the pot,” Gertie said as she took
the withered black hand in hers. “We shall all feel ever so much better
after a hot breakfast, for it must be nearly noon.”
The old woman suffered herself to be led toward the place where the
tent had been pitched on the previous day. Jake crept softly under the
canvas, where Ben still sat beside his father’s box in silent grief,
got two of the staves, and then went back to dig among the furrows of
sand in the hope of finding provisions.
By the greatest good fortune, so far as Aunt Chloe was concerned, the
tea canister was unearthed after half an hour’s work, and not far from
it was the battered tin pot.
“Now we can begin housekeepin’ once more,” Jake said, trying to speak
cheerfully, but in vain; the message from the dead had oppressed every
one visibly, for it told what might be their own fate. “Aunty, you
build a fire, while I hunt for more stuff, and after breakfast is ready
we’ll call Ben, but not till then. Don’t get to feelin’ down-hearted,
for if his father did die here it was cause he couldn’t help hisself,
owin’ to a broken arm; but we’ll rig up some way to leave this place.”
Occupation for the hands was needed quite as much as anything else,
and even old Chloe appeared to understand this, for she bustled around
quite briskly, regardless alike of the wind which was yet strong and
cold, and the cat who persisted in following Gertie wherever she went.
CHAPTER XIV.
AN OLD FRIEND.
Although there was but little variety at the first meal after the
norther, the castaways had every reason to be thankful that so much was
left. Hot tea, canned beef and ships’ bread made a meal such as hungry
people could not grumble about, and when it was ready Gertie went to
the tent for Ben according to Jake’s suggestion.
“You go after him,” the cook said, “’cause I reckon you can do it
better’n me or old Chloe. Of course he feels bad; but he don’t remember
his father, an’ it ain’t to be expected that he’ll grieve so very long.
We’ll make him stir around huntin’ for wreckage, an’ that’ll do him a
power of good.”
What Gertie said to Ben in the way of sympathy the others never knew.
The two remained inside the tent some time, and when they came out the
contents of the box had been restored to their former condition and put
into the excavation again for safe keeping.
Every member of the party was in need of food, and when the meal came
to an end all felt wonderfully refreshed. Their own condition, which
had seemed so desperate while they listened to the letter of the
unfortunate man who died alone on the key, now appeared to be more
hopeful, and instead of viewing the situation in the most dismal light,
Jake spoke very cheerfully.
“We sha’n’t starve to death, even if we have to stay here six months,
because of the shell-fish,” he said by way of preface to the plan
of action he was about to propose. “In that time we oughter rig up
some kind of a craft that’ll carry us to the mainland, or another key
where there’s more chance of bein’ picked up by a vessel. To sit here
thinkin’ of what may happen will only make things worse, an’ all hands
must go to work.”
“What can we do?” Gertie asked.
“You an’ old Chloe must hunt for things that the norther buried in the
sand, an’ I tell you what it is, aunty, nothin’ but hard labor now will
ever give you a chance of seein’ Moses agin.”
“Why don’ dat wuffless nigger come here an’ git his po’ ole mammy when
she’s in sich a terruble place?”
“There’s a good many reasons why he don’t, aunty,” Jake replied with a
laugh. “Fust an’ foremost, he don’t know where she is, an’ then agin
he’d stand a pretty poor show of gettin’ here, ’lowin’ that he wanted
to come, so you’ve got to help yourself. Me an’ Ben will have our hands
full watchin’ the beach for wreckage, an’ we’ve got to look after that
part of the work mighty sharp, ’cause we’re dependin’ on what washes
ashore for our raft. Come, lad, we’ll make a clean circuit of the key
once more, an’ by that time I reckon we’ll want a little rest.”
As he spoke the cook arose to his feet, Ben following the example, and
when the two started toward the beach, Gertie began to carry out the
former’s instructions.
She and Aunt Chloe dug into every hillock of sand industriously,
and before the afternoon was more than half gone they had quite
a collection of household goods. Nearly all the bed-clothing was
recovered; the cases of lime-juice, with which the brackish water in
the breaker could be rendered palatable, were unearthed, and two boxes
of ship’s bread found.
These goods were carried into the tent, and the weary workers had but
just sat down behind the canvas, where they would be sheltered from the
wind at the same time that the warmth of the sun’s rays would reach
them, when the other members of the party returned.
“You’ve had good luck,” Jake said as he looked into the tent, “an’ we
haven’t been so far behind. Ben an’ me have found half a dozen planks
an’ one of the hatches, all of which we’ve dragged up where there won’t
be any danger they’ll be washed away. By to-morrow night I’m allowin’
we’ll have enough to build a pretty comfortable kind of a raft. The
tools an’ nails that were brought ashore must still be here, an’ after
we’ve had a little breathin’ spell we’ll take our turn at bucklin’ onto
the staves.”
Gertie mixed some lime-juice and water, knowing the travelers must be
thirsty after their long walk, and when he had drank what appeared
to be two men’s allowance, the cook filled his pipe, turning in true
sailor fashion to windward as he lighted the match.
That particular flame was never applied to the tobacco, however, for an
instant later he had dashed the pipe to the ground as he shrieked:
“See there! See! See! Now what do you think the chances are of our
leavin’ this blessed key?”
The cook was acting more like an insane person than a castaway who had
just been advocating hard work as a means of preventing the mind from
dwelling on unwelcome thoughts. He danced wildly around, pointing and
staring out over the black, angry-looking waters as if he beheld some
beautiful scene, and it was several moments before his companions could
understand what had caused such a change of manner.
Then Ben succeeded in discovering the same object which had apparently
transformed a weary, reasonably sensible man into a lunatic, and he
shouted as he seized old Chloe by the arms, she having risen to her
feet meantime, forcing her to spin around and around with him like a
top.
“It’s a vessel! It’s a vessel coming right this way, and she can’t fail
to see us!”
After this explanation both Gertie and Chloe were able to distinguish
far away in the distance the white wings, than which nothing could be
more welcome, and the old negress clasped her hands in an ecstasy of
joy as she shouted:
“He’s come! My Moses hab come for his mammy, bress de Lawd! an’ we’se
all gwine home to Savannah once mo’. I’se had ’nuff ob tryin’ to git up
Norf, an’ now, praise de Lam’! I’se gwine ter stay in Georgy.”
By this time Jake had grown more quiet, and as he continued to gaze
over the water a troubled look came upon his face.
“She’s comin’ this way, for a fact,” he said slowly, “but it’s because
she can’t do much of anything else than run dead before the wind. Don’t
you see the foremast has gone by the board, an’ that the other spars
look shaky? She isn’t in very much better trim than the old Simoon was
when we found her.”
“What do you suppose has happened?” Ben asked, forgetting for the
moment the events of the previous night.
“I reckon she’s been foolin’ round with the same norther that made
things lively for us, though why she’s pokin’ her nose into this shoal
water when she could a’ bore up toward the coast, is more’n I can
figger out.”
“Will she stop here and take us away?” Gertie asked as she looked over
the waters, unable at times to distinguish anything save the foaming
crests of the waves.
“I calculate she’s bent on gettin’ to leeward of this island, where
most likely there’s fair anchorage; but yet she may go past without so
much as sayin’ howdy, an’ we’d better try to let her skipper know that
there are some passengers here who’re mighty anxious about makin’ his
acquaintance. Come, Ben we must set fire to one or two of the trees
that the storm knocked over, an’ I reckon the smoke they make will be
as good as a telegraph message.”
In this particular case it proved fortunate that the ex-cook of the Sea
Queen was an inveterate smoker, otherwise their stock of matches might
have shared the fate of the provisions. As it was Jake had a plentiful
supply of those very useful articles, and with them a blaze was soon
kindled under three of the up-rooted trees.
By the time the smoke begun to rise it was possible to distinguish
quite clearly the approaching craft as she plunged into the hollows
of the waves sullenly, or ascended the watery slopes wearily, her
splintered spars and flying ropes giving her the appearance of some
beautiful animal wounded unto death.
The strong wind carried the smoke far away to the eastward without
allowing it to rise very high; but it made such a signal as must have
been seen by those on the coming vessel, yet no answer was given.
“Why don’t they let her go off two or three points?” Jake asked
anxiously as he watched the movements of the schooner, which was still
headed directly for the island and approaching dangerously near. “That
captain must be drunk or crazy to run such risks.”
The stranger was now such a short distance away that those on the
key could make out the form of a man at the helm, and one amidships,
consequently there could be no question but that the craft was yet
under control.
On, on came the laboring vessel, dashing the waves into foam which
was flung mast-head high, or plunging down into the abyss of waters
until it seemed as if she was going to the bottom, while the excited
watchers literally held their breaths as the course remained unchanged,
and Jake shouted and waved his hands as if he fancied the men were not
able to see the island on which the schooner must soon be flung unless
immediate steps were taken to prevent such a catastrophe.
“It looks as if they wanted to wreck her,” Ben cried, clutching Gertie
by the arm much as if he believed her to be in danger. “There is
nothing to prevent them from going clear of the island, for if she
doesn’t answer the helm that man wouldn’t be standing at the wheel.”
“I can’t make it out, lad,” Jake replied in a tone of perplexity. “If
they wanted to wreck the schooner it seems as if there were a good many
better places; but if that ain’t the scheme, I’m beat.”
Even as he spoke the doomed vessel plunged into the shore line of the
waves, rolling to and fro one instant as she half rose above them,
and then settled down upon the coral with a crash that sent the only
remaining spar tumbling over the rail like a rotten stick.
The castaways on the island stood speechless with astonishment, and
motionless as statues, during what looked like the willful destruction
of the schooner, and expecting each instant to see the men swept from
the deck by the angry sea.
In this, however, they were happily mistaken. The waves were not
running nearly as high as appeared to be the case when viewed from the
low plane of the island, and, save for an occasional sea which broke
over the stern, the vessel’s deck was free from water as if she had
been running easily before the wind.
When the first crash was heard Aunt Chloe stood speechless with fear
and bewilderment; but before either of the eager watchers could utter
a word, she cried, shaking Jake vigorously by the arm to secure his
undivided attention:
“Can you see my Mose on dat ar’ vessel what’s done gone smashed herself
up when we wanted to be took away?”
“Don’t you worry ’bout him, aunty. He’s up North I reckon, an’ he can
thank his lucky stars for bein’ there instead of on that craft which
can’t stand the poundin’ of them waves very long, ’cordin’ to my way of
thinkin’.”
Those on board did not seem at all solicitous regarding their
condition. The schooner had struck squarely on that side of the key
which ran out to a shoal, and was lying upright and steady, a fact
which soon caused Jake to change his opinion regarding what at first
appeared like willful destruction.
“I thought they were crazy, but now I reckon they’ve done a wise thing.
She was pretty nigh wrecked, an’ most likely takin’ in water so fast
that it was hard work to keep her afloat, so she’s been plumped on here
where the cargo can be saved.”
“And we’re no better off than if she hadn’t come,” Ben said sadly, for
the storm had left them so nearly destitute that he knew aid in some
form must come quickly or their situation would be desperate.
“That’s where you’re mistaken, my boy. There’s no question but that
they’ve plenty of provisions on board, an’ what’s better, is the timber
which can be got out of her. It’ll make a raft large enough to hold a
hundred, an’ her crew will most likely go at that work when the sea is
quiet enough for them to land.”
“But how can the men get ashore?” Gertie asked anxiously. “It looks as
if the vessel was a long distance from the beach.”
“By to-morrow mornin’ I reckon you’ll see ’em swim for it, or send a
line ashore to be made fast to one of the trees. We’ll keep the fire
goin’ all night, an’ if anything should happen we shall be on hand if
we’re wanted.”
The men on the stranded schooner could now be seen working as quietly
and methodically as if she had been at a dock instead of virtually
wrecked. The fallen spar was thumping heavily against the side, and
this they were cutting partially away, trying to force it inshore
rather than set it adrift entirely.
The little party on the key had almost unconsciously moved toward the
beach until they were at the very edge of the water, and as they stood
gazing earnestly at the wreck, which lay only a few hundred yards
away, one of the men leaped on the rail as he began to wave his arms
vigorously.
“He wants us to do something. Can you hear what he says?” Ben asked,
but Jake made no reply. He was staring as wildly at the figure as ever
he had at the “voodou” cat, and seemingly quite as much alarmed as
when that harmless animal first made her appearance, while the sailor
on the rail gesticulated as if carrying on an animated conversation
with the wind.
“What _is_ the matter?” Ben cried, growing somewhat alarmed because of
the cook’s singular behavior.
“Matter?” screamed Jake as, his scrutiny ended, he begun to dance about
on the beach, waving his hat frantically. “Can’t you see who that is?
Don’t any of you know an old friend when he’s in sight?”
“Is it my Mose?” Aunt Chloe asked in a trembling voice, and Gertie said
pleadingly:
“Tell us who it is. How could we know any one belonging to that vessel?”
“It’s Captain Jack Irwin, an’ he’s signalin’ to us because he knows who
we are.”
“Captain Irwin!” Ben repeated in amazement. “Why that isn’t the Sea
Queen.”
“I know it; but it’s him all the same, though how he comes to be on
that craft beats me.”
The others were quite as much surprised as the cook, but it was
impossible to solve the mystery by speculation, try as they might, and
after each one had made several very improbable guesses, Ben asked:
“Why don’t we do something toward helpin’ him ashore? Perhaps that was
what he tried to talk about when he shouted so long.”
“What can we do, lad? We’re worse off than he is, for there’s plenty
of stuff on the schooner with which to build a raft, while we’ve got
nothin’.”
“Then why doesn’t he come ashore?” Gertie asked, while old Chloe sat on
the sand as if the exertion of thinking had entirely exhausted her.
“Wait till the sea quiets down a bit, an’ then he’ll be here. The wind
is fallin’ now, the schooner lays easy, or will in a little while, an’
there’s no reason for him to hurry much. Most likely he’ll stay where
he is till mornin’, but we’ll keep the fire goin’ in case he should try
it to-night. You an’ Chloe make some more tea, while Ben an’ I drag the
trees together, an’ it won’t be long now before we’ll know the whole
story.”
The sight of the wreck had apparently caused the old negress to forget
her fears of the cat, and she displayed an unusual amount of activity
in preparing such a supper as the condition of the larder would permit.
By the time Jake and Ben had carried or dragged all the up-rooted
trees near the fire, that the work of keeping the blaze alive might
be lessened as much as possible, the shadows of night were gathering
fast and dense, and while the castaways partook of the evening meal
they looked at nothing save the dark mass in the gloom, which all knew
marked the position of the wreck.
CHAPTER XV.
THE FATE OF THE SEA QUEEN.
The wind “went down with the sun,” speaking after the manner of the
weather-wise, and once more the air was warm and balmy. Even had it
continued cold the castaways would have had no thought of retiring
to the tent that night. The stranded schooner, the mystery attending
Captain Irwin’s appearance, and the hope of speedily being able to
leave the key, all served to plunge them in such a state of excitement
that there was no desire for sleep.
Jake and Ben kept the fire burning merrily, for there was no necessity
now to husband the fuel, and Gertie held the cat in her arms as all
speculated upon the singular chain of circumstances which had brought
Captain Irwin to that lonely key at the very time when he was most
needed.
In this way, alternately conversing and listening for any hail which
might come from the wreck, the night passed, and when morning dawned
there was nothing to prevent those on the schooner from landing. The
sea was like a mirror for smoothness, with not a ripple on its glassy
surface, and the long swell rolled up on the beach with the faintest of
murmurs as if weary with the turmoil of the previous twenty-four hours.
That Captain Irwin and his companion had felt perfectly secure
regarding the condition of affairs was shown by their being yet asleep
as Jake and Ben went down to the very edge of the shore when the
first light of day gave them a view of the deck. The hulk was keeled
over slightly, the receding waves having left her considerably nearer
the land, but otherwise she rested as securely as if on a submarine
railway, and her position would probably remain unchanged until another
storm transformed the lazy undulations into leaping, angry waves.
“They seem to be takin’ things pretty cool for shipwrecked men,” Jake
said after he and his companion had gazed at the hulk several moments
in silence. “It appears as if we were the ones who borrowed the most
trouble. I reckon it’s time for Captain Jack to tell us how he came
aboard of that craft, an’ here goes for wakin’ him. Schooner ahoy!
Aho-o-o-y!”
“Halloo on shore!” Captain Irwin replied as he leaped to his feet, the
calm of the morning permitting the words to ring out distinctly.
“Have you made up your mind to stay there all day, or will you come
ashore an’ have breakfast?”
“I reckon we’ll land as soon as we can get a rope stretched. Wade into
the water as far as you can, and I’ll pass a heaving line.”
“It ain’t the pleasantest thing in the world to go foolin’ ’round where
there are sharks,” Jake muttered, his old habit of grumbling coming
upon him now that the captain’s presence seemed to assure the safety of
all; “but perhaps they won’t ven’ter over the shoals.”
“I’ll go,” Ben said eagerly. “It would have to be a pretty lively shark
that could catch me.”
“Stay where you are and take care of old Chloe an’ Gertie,” the cook
replied with a comical assumption of dignity as he waded into the
low-running surf.
Five minutes later he was walking toward the shore pulling a light
hawser which was made fast to the heaving-line, and with Ben’s
assistance a couple of half-hitches were soon taken around the trunk of
the largest mangrove tree.
When this had been done the main hatch was launched as a boat, and on
it Captain Irwin and his companion landed without difficulty.
For several moments after he stepped ashore the scene was one of
boisterous confusion. It appeared as if Jake and Ben would never grow
weary of shaking hands, and Gertie got half a dozen kisses before she
believed her share of the welcome had been received.
“Tell us how you got aboard of that craft, and where the Sea Queen is,”
Jake said as soon as he could make himself heard, and Captain Irwin
replied with a smile:
“You’d better spin your yarn first, for it puzzles me considerably to
know where you picked up two new shipmates,” and he pointed toward Aunt
Chloe and the cat.
It was some time before either of the little party had become
sufficiently calm to be able to tell a connected story, but they
finally succeeded after many interruptions from each other, and when
all the adventures had been related, including the finding of the
message from the dead, they learned of the Sea Queen’s fate, Captain
Irwin’s story being substantially as follows:
The fog enshrouded the schooner just as the line was made fast to the
turtle, and fully ten minutes before Jake, Gertie and Ben were aware
of its coming. Captain Irwin had just gone below before the cloud came
up out of the sea, and the mate who was in charge neglected to take
the bearings of the boat before the dense vapor hid her entirely from
view. There was no wind, and to send out a crew in search of the lost
ones, not knowing in which direction they were towed by the turtle,
would have been the height of folly, therefore no move was made until
the wind sprung up, an hour or two before midnight.
During this enforced idleness, when his step-daughter was in such
great peril, Dr. Harlan showed but little genuine anxiety. He seemed
to be annoyed, fearing he might be deprived of Gertie’s services
after learning of how much assistance she could be in his peculiar
business, and scolded considerably because Captain Irwin had said there
was no danger to be apprehended in attempting to capture the turtle,
but evinced no sorrow for her possible fate. When the longed-for
wind came and the schooner was gotten under way, the quack went into
his state-room, even though both watches remained on deck to act as
lookouts, and so far as could be ascertained, slept soundly. The
vessel’s course was set toward that point where the boat had last been
seen, and all hands kept up an incessant shouting until the howling of
the gale drowned their friendly cries.
When the storm which had thrown the Simoon on the key was at its
height, it would have been impossible to extend any aid even had the
little craft been close alongside, and the Sea Queen was headed toward
the open waters of the gulf, it being the captain’s intention to run
into the very teeth of the wind until it subsided, when he would
continue the search for the missing ones.
As a matter of course, the night was as black as the castaways had
experienced while on the dismantled brig. The lookout could not see
a dozen yards ahead, and the Sea Queen plunged blindly through the
waves, making but little headway, until nearly three o’clock in the
morning, when suddenly a vessel hove up through the gloom close on the
starboard bow, running dead before the gale.
Hardly a dozen seconds elapsed from the time the craft first came into
view until she struck the Sea Queen amidships, and owing to her greater
velocity, crashed through the timbers as if they had been paper.
The stranger’s foremast was carried away by the shock, and with it four
of her crew of five, while she was badly stove about the bow. The Sea
Queen received the brunt of the collision. She was rolled over by the
blow which had splintered her timbers below the water-line, and sank
before the frightened crew had time to make the least effort toward
providing for their own safety. Captain Irwin was near the starboard
rail aft when the catastrophe occurred, and was hurled into the
water clear of his own vessel toward the other craft, which accident
resulted in the saving of his life while all the others on the schooner
perished. He had instinctively struck out with his arms on coming to
the surface near the stranger’s cutwater, and a huge wave dashed him
directly upon the main-chains, from where he readily clambered inboard.
The Mermaid, which was the name of the craft that had sunk the Sea
Queen, had but one of her crew surviving, and it was some moments
before anything could be done to prevent her also from foundering.
When Captain Irwin had collected his scattered senses and learned of
the damage done to the colliding vessel, the foremast was thrashing
and pounding against the side in a manner that threatened speedily to
shatter every timber, and the efforts of both men were directed to the
task of cutting it adrift. Several times, before this was accomplished,
did it seem as if the remaining spars would go by the board, but
fortunately the Mermaid was nearly new, her standing rigging in good
condition, and it was possible, after the most severe exertions, to
heave her to.
In this position she rode out the gale even better than could have been
expected, but Captain Irwin and the man, Tom Johnson, were obliged
to work more than half the time at the pumps. Daylight found them in
nearly the same place, but nothing could be seen of the ill-fated Sea
Queen save a mass of wreckage far away to the westward.
Although the Mermaid was in imminent danger of foundering, Captain
Irwin bore away in the hope of finding some of his crew, but all in
vain. During the day, while the two men alternately stood at the wheel
and worked the pump, she cruised in the vicinity, and at night-fall,
positive that none save themselves had survived the disaster, knowing
also that the schooner could not long be kept afloat, the course was
set for Key West.
Before that port could be reached, and when both men were nearly
exhausted, the norther sprang up. That the Mermaid would live through
it neither of those who were working so manfully believed; but she did,
despite her crippled condition, and when the gale abated sufficiently
to admit of making any headway, she was steered for the nearest land.
“We didn’t get here any too soon,” Captain Irwin said as he concluded
the story. “Johnson and I were so nearly used up that it would have
been almost impossible to work the pumps three hours longer, and when
we struck this key the Mermaid was two-thirds full of water. There was
no thought of coming ashore last night, for we needed sleep more than
anything else, and in ten minutes after she took ground our eyes were
closed, not to be opened until you hailed.”
“Well, now that you’re here, captain, what are you goin’ to do toward
helpin’ us get away from this place?” Jake asked. “It looks pretty nice
while a feller’s on a sinkin’ vessel; but when he’s tied right down to
it, knowin’ what happened to Ben’s father, it ain’t the pleasantest
island to live on I ever saw.”
“I don’t fancy we need stay very long,” Captain Irwin replied
cheerfully. “We shall be pretty poor sailors if we can’t rig up a craft
out of the schooner’s timbers, and it isn’t very far to Key West.”
“Where are we?” Jake asked quickly.
“On Content Key.”
“Then I was right,” he cried triumphantly, and from that moment he
believed himself to be very nearly as good a navigator as he knew he
was a cook.
“Now let’s see what Jake and aunty can do in the way of getting
breakfast,” Captain Irwin said. “There are plenty of provisions on the
Mermaid, and the galley-stove can be brought ashore, or they be taken
on board as may be preferred. My idea is that two cooks ought to be
able to feed us pretty well while we stay here.”
“I’se worked for some ob de fustest families in Georgy,” old Chloe said
with considerable dignity, “an’ I knows how mos’ ebery kind ob a dish
oughter be served; but I’se done gone got frou paddlin’ roun’ on little
boards.”
“Then Johnson and Jake shall go after the stove, and from this time
out, aunty, your reputation as a cook is at stake, for we shall all
be able to eat our full allowance. Come, Ben, you and I will set
about finding the best place for a ship-yard, and after that has been
done, all hands, excepting of course old Chloe and Gertie, will begin
dismantling the schooner. I am expecting that we shall make decently
good wages in the matter of salvage, for she is loaded with hides, and
every one of them can be saved.”
The captain’s business-like manner had a wonderful effect on those
who, a few hours previous, thought it would be a great hardship to
remain many days longer on the key. There now seemed to be no immediate
necessity for departure, and all hands went to work with a will.
After making a complete circuit of the island, and deciding that the
boat-building operations should be carried on at the north, or shoal
side, breakfast was ready, and when that important meal had been eaten
the work of putting up the Mermaid’s mainsail as a stationary camp
was begun. The old tent was to be used as a kitchen, and in it the
provisions and cooking utensils were placed, Chloe being installed as
the presiding genius, for Jake’s services would be required in the work
of unloading the schooner.
Thus the first day was spent, and at night-fall Content Key looked like
a homestead rather than a desolate reef. Two tents, fully protected
from heavy winds by timbers driven firmly into the sand, were up. A
considerable amount of lumber had been carried to the ship-yard, and
all was in readiness for taking out the Mermaid’s cargo.
Everything was done in “ship-shape fashion,” as Jake expressed it in
a tone of most decided satisfaction while they were eating supper.
The edges of the main tent were buried deep in the sand, and weighted
down with the schooner’s chain-cable to steady it in case of a storm,
while one end had been partitioned off for the exclusive use of old
Chloe, Gertie and the cat. The kitchen was lashed even more firmly
than before, and fully supplied with provisions, while two full
water-breakers stood just outside, thus insuring a plentiful supply of
that precious liquid whatever might happen.
It was a pleasing contrast with that scene which four of the castaways
had looked upon the morning previous, and all hands felt remarkably
cheerful despite the many reasons which could have been found for
sadness.
“De Lawd has been wonderful good to us po’ sinful creeters,” old Chloe
said devoutly, as the whole party were resting from the labors of the
day in the main tent, which was lighted by the schooner’s lanterns,
“an’ ef He ain’t done gone forgot us, we oughter show a little bit of
respec’ kase ob His goodness.”
“You’re right, aunty,” Captain Irwin replied heartily, “and I ought to
be ashamed to wait until an old woman like you reminds me of my duty.
We are pretty poor stuff if we’re not willing to acknowledge our debts
after so many good fellows have gone to Davy Jones’ locker, and there
never were six people who had greater cause for gratitude.”
Then the captain offered a simple but soul-felt prayer, which old Chloe
interrupted with many a fervent “bress de Lawd,” and when it was ended
all probably felt as Jake privately expressed himself to Ben, “as if
they hadn’t been doin’ any more’n the square thing.”
It was unnecessary to stand watch, since they were in no danger of
being intruded upon, and all hands laid down with the low murmur of the
placid sea singing them to sleep, while high in the heavens the fair
moon looked upon a scene in which appeared to be pictured perfect peace.
CHAPTER XVI.
ADIEU TO CONTENT KEY.
On the following morning work was begun under the new system. Gertie
and old Chloe had quite as much as they could do in or around the
tents. Jake, Ben and Tom Johnson commenced taking out the cargo, while
Captain Irwin paid no attention to anything save boat-building.
“I am allowing that we sha’n’t have another norther for some time,” the
latter said while they were eating breakfast on this, the first day of
wrecking. “We’ve had two pretty near together, an’ according to the
weather prophets, there’ll be a long spell of clear sky now. If that
comes true we shall be able to save all the cargo, and in order to reap
the fruits of our labor, it is necessary we should retain possession of
the goods.”
“I don’t reckon there is anybody round here who would try to take ’em
away from us,” Jake said with a laugh.
“Perhaps not, but suppose all hands should leave the island and go to
Key West? Then I fancy it would be a race among the wreckers as to who
should get here first.”
“What are you drivin’ at?” Jake asked, unable to gain the slightest
clew as to the captain’s meaning.
“Instead of all trying to leave on a large craft, we’ll build a small
boat, and after the work of wrecking has been done, one or two only
will start for Key West to make arrangements with the underwriters. By
such a course we shall be obliged to remain on this reef quite a while
longer, but that won’t be much of a hardship considering the amount of
money to be gained from the sale of the Mermaid’s cargo.”
No one made any protest against this plan. All had such implicit
confidence in the captain’s judgment, that even old Chloe was ready
to follow his instructions to the letter without so much as a hint of
her desire to return home or to see Moses. So far as Jake and Ben were
concerned, it made but little difference where they stayed providing
they could reach the main land if it should become necessary; and
Gertie, having no fear of being again obliged to assist in the patent
medicine business, was well content to remain until he should give the
word for departure.
The work which was thus begun on the second morning after the stranding
of the Mermaid, continued without interruption, except on the Sabbath,
when all hands indulged in the luxury of a well-earned rest, and it
was on one of these idle days, when the task appeared to be fully
half-performed, that Ben laid before the captain a matter which had
been troubling him as the time for leaving Content Key drew near.
“What is to become of Gertie when we get back to New York? Now that her
step-father is dead she won’t have any home, unless those friends with
whom she lived are willin’ to let her stay with them.”
“You have got considerable money of your own,” Captain Irwin replied
with a smile, “and could do a good deal toward her support.”
“I’ll agree to give her every cent father left, for I can earn my own
livin’ without much trouble.”
“Perhaps there won’t be any necessity for such a sacrifice on your
part, providing she and Chloe will agree to a plan which I have in
mind.”
“I will do whatever you think best,” Gertie said quickly; “but I don’t
want you to feel that I expect to be taken care of, for I can work as
well as Ben.”
“I have no home,” Captain Irwin said, speaking very seriously, “and
I want one, although I’m not ashore very much of the time. It is
necessary Ben should have an abiding place when he goes to school, as
I intend he shall this winter, and it seems as if now was a good time
to start just such a harbor as I need. Madame Servoise, one of the
sweetest and neatest old French ladies I ever met, is living in New
York, and I know from a conversation with her just before we sailed,
that she would take charge of a house for me. I propose to hire a neat
little cottage, and make up a family by adopting Gertie as a sister
for Ben. Now that her step-father is dead she has neither home nor
relatives, and there is no reason why she should not consult her own
pleasure in the matter. Chloe can come with us, unless her Moses has
other plans regarding her future; she will be captain of the kitchen,
and Jake may be mate whenever he’s ashore.”
There was no necessity of asking if the listeners assented to this
proposition. The approval pictured on their faces was so decidedly
unqualified, that from that moment the matter was considered as
settled, and many were the conversations which Gertie and Ben held on
the subject during their leisure moments before leaving Content Key,
when they laid famous plans for the future.
“I’se done gwine to lib wid de chillun no matter what dat wuffless Mose
say ’bout it,” and old Chloe emphasized her words by a vigorous wave
of the skillet above her head as she gave Jake her views regarding
the captain’s proposition that same evening. “When a po’ nigger woman
gits ole now’days she ain’t got no whar to lay her head, an’ de cap’in
sha’n’t nebber want fur good cookin’ while I’se able to stan’ ober de
fire.”
“If you’d only let me tell you one or two things that I know better’n
you do, it would----”
Jake was not allowed to conclude the rather egotistical remark. While
he believed himself to be the better cook, old Chloe looked at the
matter in an entirely different light, and he was forced to leave the
tent very quickly in order to avoid a blow from the skillet.
The work went on without intermission, however, despite the plans
all were making regarding the future, and in due course of time the
Mermaid’s cargo was not only landed, but secured in such a manner that
however severe a storm might arise there would be no danger of its
being blown away.
The boat-building had also received due attention from Captain Irwin,
and when the little party of wreckers begun to tear the hulk to pieces,
a seaworthy craft was finished. It was not large enough to carry all
the castaways to Key West, nor was it intended for such a purpose; but
two men could sail in it among the keys without inconvenience, and
sloop-rigged as she was, there could be no question as to the safety of
those who manned her.
It was agreed that the captain and Johnson should make the voyage,
leaving the others behind to hold possession of the goods until an
agreement for salvage had been made, and on the same day of the launch
the journey was begun, the remainder of the party feeling decidedly
lonely as the little craft sailed swiftly away and they were once more
the only dwellers upon a reef.
They were very far, however, from being in as desperate a condition as
at any time before the Mermaid came ashore, and, unless some unforeseen
accident should occur, all knew that it would only be a question of
comparatively a few hours before the journey to New York could be
commenced.
“You’ll see us again in two or three days,” Captain Irwin shouted as
the rudely-built sloop left the shore; but those on the key hardly
believed that such would be the case until it was proved a fact.
When the castaways were once more the only occupants of the key it
was impossible to repress a certain sense of loneliness, even though
they had every reason to believe that Captain Irwin would return at
some time, even if not quite as soon as he had promised. To old Chloe,
Gertie and Ben the awkward-looking boat seemed all too frail for the
shortest voyage in those treacherous waters, and Jake was not without
certain misgivings in case a norther should make a sudden descent upon
the gulf.
These fears, however, had a very large germ of hope behind them
compared to the terrible desolateness which they had experienced while
in doubt as to whether any one would discover their whereabouts, and
each tried hard to appear cheerful.
Jake proposed that they vary the somewhat limited bill of fare by a
dinner of oysters, large quantities of which hung to such branches of
the mangrove trees as trailed in the water, and when the little boat
had disappeared in the distance, after sailing swiftly before the light
breeze, he and Ben started off to gather this somewhat unusual fruit,
while old Chloe, Gertie and the kitten returned to the main tent.
The dinner of shell-fish was a pleasing success, and after it had been
eaten the occupants of Content Key gave themselves up to the charm of
idleness, for from the morning when the Mermaid came ashore, every one
had been hard at work, with not a moment’s cessation, save during the
hours of darkness.
When night came the tent was brilliantly illuminated with every lantern
they could find, for the absence of two from the small party left a
wofully large vacancy, and it seemed as if the cheering rays of light
gave a certain sense of companionship.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Ben,” Jake said as he carefully filled
and lighted his pipe, after the evening meal had been eaten and the
flaps of the camp were opened that the warmth of a fire at the outside
might be fully enjoyed, for the heavy dew caused the warm air to seem
chill and raw. “The tide will be full about ten o’clock, an’ you an’
I’ll have a regular turtle-hunt. It’s pretty late in the season, but I
reckon we’ll find enough to pay for the trouble, an’ seein’s how we can
sleep all we want to for the next two or three days, it don’t make much
difference whether we’re awake half the night or not.”
As may be supposed, Ben was perfectly willing to participate in
anything which promised even a semblance of sport, and old Chloe
no longer felt averse to being left with Gertie and the alleged
supernatural cat, for long companionship with that harmless animal
during the time while the others were engaged saving the Mermaid’s
cargo, had taught her that she was innocent of voodouism.
To one who has never engaged in the business of catching turtles,
it would seem as if there would be at least considerable excitement
attending it, and Ben was of this opinion until the events of the
evening proved the contrary. Patience is the chief thing necessary, and
it is by no means pleasant to lie among the sand until one of these
huge shell-fish comes up out of the water to deposit her eggs. Then the
“sport” consists simply in turning her on her back at the exact moment
when she starts for the sea again, and after that, a weary time of
waiting for another.
If there was but little pleasure to be extracted from this plan of
Jake’s, it resulted in quite an addition to the castaways’ larder, for
when the tide had so far receded that it was not probable any more
would visit the key, the hunters had four captives and a store of eggs
which looked absolutely enormous.
“We’ll keep three alive till Captain Irwin comes back,” Jake said in a
tone of satisfaction as they went toward the tent, leaving the turtles
on their backs without fear of an escape, “an’ I reckon he won’t find
much fault at bein’ fed on soup for a while.”
The greater portion of the following day was spent in conveying the
eggs to the tent that they might be kept reasonably cool, and in
building a pool where three of the huge captives could enjoy a bath
without possibility of taking unceremonious leave of those who proposed
to convert them into delicacies for the table.
After this work had been done Jake refused to exert himself any
further. He needed a rest, so he said, and was fully determined to take
a long one, for when Captain Irwin returned there would be plenty of
hard labor; therefore he remained idle until the morning of the fourth
day, exactly seventy-two hours after the little boat left the beach, at
which time Ben announced the welcome fact that a craft of some kind was
in sight.
It was quite a while before the anxious watchers could determine the
true character of the tiny speck far away to the westward, but by noon
there was no longer any question that the absent ones were returning.
A tug towing a lighter was what Ben had sighted, and the time for
leaving Content Key was very near at hand.
At sunset both crafts were anchored in shoal water to the northward of
the coral reef, and Captain Irwin was enjoying his share of the turtle
soup as he related in detail the incidents of his visit to Key West.
“Our boat sailed like a clipper,” he said, when the castaways gathered
around as he sat in the tent with supper spread out on a piece of
canvas. “I didn’t think we could do very much with her except before
the wind, but she laid up to it like a yacht. We were made fast to the
dock in Key West eighteen hours after leaving here, and the visit to
the underwriters was finished early next morning. I have left the whole
matter in the hands of a responsible firm, and we shall get all that
belongs to us without fear of being cheated.”
“How long do you reckon it’ll be before we can start from here?” Jake
asked, as if it was of the greatest importance that he should get away
at the earliest possible moment.
“Three days will see the work done, I fancy. We couldn’t get much of a
crew, but there are four of us, which will give a pretty good working
force, and by swinging the lighter well inshore it won’t be such a very
heavy job.”
“Den we’se gwine up Norf inter dat house what you tole ’bout?”
“Yes, aunty, as soon as the business is finished in Key West we’ll
start, and you can count on seeing Moses very soon.”
“I ain’t got no call ter hunt roun’ fur him,” old Chloe said angrily.
“Ef de wuffless chile wants ter see his mammy, he mus’ fin’ her, kase
I wouldn’t done gone got wrecked ef it hadn’t been ’count ob his
nonsense.”
“Then you wouldn’t have seen us, nor be thinking about that wonderful
home Captain Irwin is going to get for our especial benefit,” Gertie
said laughingly.
“You’se right, honey, an’ I won’t break out agin him any mo’ kase ob
dat. De Lawd’s bin mighty good to dis ole nigger by rasin’ up sich
fren’s for her, an’ de leas’ she kin do is ter hole her tongue.”
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the captain of the
steamer, who had come to consult with Captain Irwin as to the best
method of conducting the work which was to be begun at daybreak next
morning, and the castaways left the tent to view the key that seemed
suddenly to have been converted into a populous island. With the crews
of the lighter and tug roaming around on shore, it was difficult to
remember what a desolate place it had once been, and as Ben said, “it
made him feel queer to see so many people.”
It was late in the evening before the visitors and castaways settled
down to rest, and the sun had not yet showed his face above the sea
next morning when the shrill whistle of the tug called all hands to
work.
The summons told how nearly the time of their imprisonment had come to
an end, and every one of the castaways was on the alert at the first
sound of the signal.
CHAPTER XVII.
A HEAD WIND.
Chloe and Gertie were the only ones on the key not busily engaged in
removing the cargo of the Mermaid and such of her tackle as was of
sufficient value to warrant the labor. Even the cook of the tug joined
in this work, and the old woman had quite as much as she could do to
prepare the meals for this large party.
It was necessary to carry the goods to the water’s edge and then raft
them a distance of four or five hundred yards to where the wrecking
crafts lay at anchor. The men were divided into two gangs or crews, one
of which attended to the water portion of the transportation while the
others remained on shore, and Jake and Ben would have joined the first
party but for old Chloe’s emphatic protest.
“I’se gwine onto one ob dem ar’ little boats right away ef you an’ Ben
fool roun’ in de water,” she said when Jake proposed to “ship as one of
the raft crews.”
“What’s the matter, aunty?” the ex-cook of the Sea Queen asked in
surprise. “It can’t make any difference where we work.”
“I’se done gone got frou takin’ any resks,” the old woman replied
sagely. “Nobody ebber knows what’s gwine to happen, an’ I don’ wan’ ter
be lef’ here alone same’s I was on de Cymoon ship.”
It was useless for Jake to explain that there was no possibility that
either she or Gertie would be deserted. Chloe remembered only too well
the morning when she discovered that she was the only person left on
board the brig, and much against his inclination Jake was forced to
volunteer for the most laborious portion of the task--that of carrying
the hides across the hot sands.
The work which was thus begun continued without intermission, save
during the hours of darkness, until two o’clock in the afternoon of
the third day, when everything saved from the Mermaid was aboard the
wrecking crafts.
On that morning no one thought an attempt would be made to get under
weigh for Key West until the following day, even though the task was so
nearly accomplished; but before noon there was such a decided change in
the weather that the master of the tug and Captain Irwin held a serious
consultation.
The wind, which at sunrise was blowing gently from the northwest,
increased in violence each hour until it was half a gale by noon, and
there was every danger the lighter would be forced onto the shore
unless her position was changed. Such a catastrophe meant a total loss
of all the goods upon which so much time and labor had been spent, and
immediate steps were taken to avert the threatened danger.
The tents were rolled up at once. Ben’s legacy, which came to him with
the story of bitter suffering, was carried to the steamer in the box
where it had remained so long, and before the last of the wreckage was
loaded on the lighter, old Chloe and Gertie were notified that the time
for leaving Content Key had arrived.
This work of embarkation, which could have been so easily accomplished
a few hours previous, was now not only difficult, but, in the old
negress’ eyes, extremely dangerous, and nothing but Captain Irwin’s
sternly uttered threat that she should be left behind caused her to
make the slightest effort toward helping herself. Instead of a placid
sea the foam-crested waves were rolling inland with very nearly the
same fury as on the day after the norther, and the heavily laden vessel
was tossed about on them until the stout hawsers were strained to their
utmost tension.
A boat from the steamer was brought around to the eastern end of the
key, where the surf was least furious, and to this point Aunt Chloe,
Gertie, with the cat in her arms, Jake and Ben bent their steps, the
old woman declaring with many a groan and pious ejaculation that she
should never be able to reach the tug alive and safe.
“You won’t by standin’ here howlin’, that’s certain,” Jake said when
they were on the beach, and the sailors, knee-deep in the sea, eager to
conclude what they evidently considered a very disagreeable duty. “Ben
an’ I’ll swing you aboard in a jiffy if you’ll try to help yourself the
least bit.”
“I’se done gone gwine ter wait till de wind is frou blowin’,” and,
forgetting Captain Irwin’s threat, the old woman seated herself on the
sand with a grim look of determination written on her black features.
“You’ll have to wait a long spell if you don’t get aboard lively,” one
of the men shouted. “Our captain won’t fool ’round a great while with
the wind kickin’ up such a bobbery, an’ we’ve got to start mighty quick
or this trip will count for nothin’.”
It was as if Aunt Chloe had not heard a word, for she made no attempt
to change her position, and Jake said in a low tone to Ben:
“Take hold with me, lad, an’ never mind how much she yells.”
Then, before the old woman had time to understand what was being done,
Ben and Jake seized her much as if she was simply an unwieldy piece of
merchandise, and despite the shrill, vigorous screams, deposited her in
the stern of the small boat, where she sat bolt upright in silent wrath
until Gertie and the cat were taken aboard.
Not a word did she speak when, after tossing about on the angry-looking
waves nearly half an hour, during which both Gertie and Ben were
decidedly frightened, they arrived at the tug. Here a rope was fastened
securely under her arms, and as the little craft fell in the hollow
of the waves Aunt Chloe was pulled aboard like a big fish, her black
face alternately exhibiting the utmost alarm and anger, but not a sound
escaped her lips.
It was necessary to treat the children in the same manner, owing to the
heavy seas, and by the time this was accomplished the last of the cargo
had been transferred to the wrecking crafts.
The most inexperienced would have understood now that there was no
time to be lost. The steamer was dancing about like a cork, flinging
the waves high over her bow, or plunging into them until the deck
was awash, and straining at the hempen cables which held her to the
heavy lighter whose anchors were yet down. The hoarse panting of the
steam-pipes, the sharp cries of command, and the trampling to and fro
told the journey was about to be begun, and that no slight amount of
danger would attend it could be seen from the faces of all.
Chloe, Gertie, Ben and the cat had been given quarters in a tiny cabin
at the after part of the tug, and while the old woman remained seated
on the floor like a charcoal statue of fear, the two children clung
to the window-casing, for the violent plunging of the little craft
rendered it difficult to retain a standing position, looking out at the
sailors who were making every effort to get under weigh in the least
possible space of time.
The lighter had her regular crew of four men on board, and when both
hawsers were overhauled they set about raising the anchors, the tug
starting instantly the last one left the ground.
With a clank and jar, and mighty breathing of steam, the powerful
engines begun to do their work; but the strong head-wind which was
rapidly increasing to a full gale, as well as the heavy load behind,
prevented any very great speed. As a matter of fact both the watchers
in the cabin thought during the first ten minutes that it would be
impossible for the small steamer to drag the unwieldy craft away from
the reef; but slowly the two forged ahead, the waves dashing over and
against them as if determined that neither should escape their fury.
Captain Irwin was in the pilot-house, Jake remained in the cook-room,
and with Chloe terrified into silence, it seemed to Gertie and Ben as
if they were alone watching this conflict between the forces of nature
and man’s handiwork.
“If this grows any worse what will become of the tug?” Gertie asked,
trying hard to repress a shudder of fear. “The waves are coming over
her worse than they ever did over the Sea Queen.”
“It looks as if there was going to be a pretty bad storm,” Ben replied
cautiously, not caring to reveal the full extent of his anxiety; “but
I guess she’ll get through safe enough. You see a tug-boat is built
strong, an’ so long as her machinery holds she can go where the Sea
Queen wouldn’t have much show.”
The sound of the children’s voices so far reassured old Chloe that she
managed, despite the violent pitching and plunging of the steamer, to
make her way to one of the stationary arm-chairs, and after clambering
into this she was fully occupied trying to remain in the seat, a task
by no means easy of accomplishment when the tug would straighten the
hawsers with a snap and sudden stop that on two occasions sent the cat
rolling across the floor like a foot-ball.
Three hours passed and yet the two children remained at the window as
if fascinated by the scene, which grew more wild and tempestuous each
moment, and when the gloom of the coming night caused the laboring
lighter to look like little more than a shadow against the darker
background, Captain Irwin came into the cabin, greatly to Ben’s relief.
“Why don’t you light up here?” he asked cheerily as, after quite a
severe struggle, he succeeded in closing the door. “The storm won’t
seem so bad if you can’t look out on the water.”
“I never thought of lamps,” Ben said with a long-drawn sigh. “Gertie
and I were watching the lighter. Do you think this boat can tow her?”
“If the storm increases, as it threatens to do now, I’m afraid we shall
have to cast her adrift,” the captain replied in a low tone. “We are
only barely holding our own now, and a full head of steam on. With
more wind she would soon succeed in dragging us back to the shoals of
Content Key.”
“How will they get the crew off?” Gertie asked inquiringly.
“There is no possibility of doing that. If it becomes necessary to let
go the hawsers they must take their chances like any other sailors in a
storm; but we won’t talk about that until it has to be done.”
Then Captain Irwin lighted the swinging-lamp; but the tiny flame looked
anything rather than cheerful to the occupants of the cabin as they
thought of the four men who might soon be abandoned to their fate. Not
for an instant did their minds dwell upon the possible pecuniary loss,
which was as nothing compared with the sacrifice of human life.
Outside the wind shrieked and howled as if calling all its forces
together that a combined assault might be made upon the laboring
vessels. Now and then the waves would strike the panting tug a blow
which caused her to quiver from stem to stern, and then remain
motionless for a second like some frightened animal who seeks in vain a
way of escape from relentless enemies.
“How near have we got to Key West?” Gertie asked after a long pause.
“We’ve hardly started, my child. During the last two hours no headway
has been made, and our island is probably not more than ten or twelve
miles astern.”
“’Pears like we’se nebber gwine ter get away frum dat wuffless place,”
Aunt Chloe said, speaking for the first time since coming aboard so
unceremoniously.
“If we can hold our own to-night I reckon it will----”
The captain ceased speaking very suddenly, for at that instant a series
of piercing whistles was heard from the steam-pipe, and he knew it was
the signal agreed upon that the crew of the lighter might understand
they were to be abandoned.
An instant later the trampling of many feet sounded on the deck, and
Jake burst into the room, the wind slamming the door behind him with a
report like a pistol-shot.
“All our work is to count for nothin’!” he cried. “They’re goin’ to cut
the lighter adrift, an’ we can whistle for the salvage.”
“God have mercy on her crew!” Captain Irwin said devoutly as he went
on deck, and an instant later the sound of axes was heard as the heavy
hawsers were cut apart.
“Are those poor fellows to be left to drown?” Gertie asked with
quivering lip.
“We couldn’t help them if they were in the water this very minute,”
Jake replied, “but about the drownin’ part I ain’t so sure. If they’ve
got any sense, I don’t see what’s to hinder ’em from runnin’ up the
gulf. The lighter is loaded so deep that she won’t make a great deal of
leeway, an’ though I ain’t the sailor that I am cook, I’d know enough
to try a close-reefed mainsail an’ jib.”
Ben pressed his face against the glass in the vain hope of learning
what steps the abandoned men were taking to aid themselves, but the
gloom of evening and the smother of spray prevented him from seeing
even those who were at work just outside.
A decided change in the motion of the steamer as she plunged down one
wave and up another without that sickening, sudden halt which had
so impeded her headway, told that the unwieldy craft was no longer
towing astern. Unless an accident should happen to the machinery the
tug could ride out the gale in safety, but what would be the fate of
those who had been abandoned the little party in the cabin could only
conjecture. The shoals of Content Key were yet so near that the lighter
might strike before her crew were able to show the smallest piece of
canvas to the wind, and in that event their doom would surely be sealed.
It was a time when the most cheering words fail to give comfort, and
the four who twice previously had been tossed about on the gulf at the
mercy of wind and wave, remained silent and affrighted, waiting for the
night, which had but just begun, to come to an end.
CHAPTER XVIII.
AT KEY WEST.
The hours of that night passed as if each minute was made up of ten
times the usual number of seconds, and the dreary monotony of waiting
was not broken by the entrance of any one into the cabin. Captain Irwin
remained in the pilot-house, and the crew of the tug were in their own
quarters or on deck forward, therefore the castaways, who the morning
previous believed all their troubles had come to an end, were left to
the agony of suspense.
The clanking of the machinery, which subsided sensibly after the
hawsers were cut, told that the captain of the steamer was making no
effort to do more than “hold his own” against the gale that he might be
in the vicinity to search for the lighter when the wind abated.
In this manner, tossed upward, sinking into the hollows of the waves,
or thrown from side to side, but riding buoyantly despite all the
buffeting, the little craft labored on during the hours of darkness,
and when the morning dawned gray and forbidding, the wind no longer
raged with the same fury as during the past twelve hours.
“We’ve seen the worst of it I reckon, lad,” Jake said as he and Ben
stood by one of the windows watching for the first signs of day.
“The clouds have already begun to break away, an’ when the sun gets
up there’ll be blue enough in the sky to make a Dutchman a pair of
trousers.”
“Do you mean that the storm is nearly over?” Gertie asked, not
understanding the ex-cook’s prediction.
“That’s the size of it,” Jake replied, “an’ if I ain’t way out of my
reckonin’, we’ll be puttin’ about pretty soon to hunt for the lighter.”
“Bress de Lawd!” old Chloe exclaimed fervently as she stroked Gertie’s
hair. “I don’ know nuffin’ ob de trousers Massa Jake’s tellin’ ’bout,
but I’se powerful anxious to see de blue sky once mo’, an’ to git out
ob dis h’yar little boat.”
“It will be a good while before you’ll have a chance to do that, aunty,
if we go round for the lighter,” Ben said, feeling that it was possible
to speak cheerfully once more.
The old woman made no reply, probably because she was disappointed in
the hope of being able to land that very day, and Gertie joined the
watchers near the window, all three looking eagerly out at the heavy
clouds.
An hour later there could be no question but that Jake’s predictions
would be verified. The sky was clearing rapidly, and when the sun rose
it was possible to see his face, gleaming warm and friendly amid the
misty vapor. The seas still ran high, as was to be expected, but the
little steamer had shown her ability to ride them so well that the
towering crests no longer caused the castaways any alarm.
Captain Irwin came into the cabin worn and haggard, but bringing
tidings which cheered those who had previously been so despondent.
“We are all right now,” he said cheerily. “It was nothing more than
a wind storm, and if the lighter can be found no one will be much the
worse for a bad night.”
“Are we going to hunt for her?”
“Just as soon as it clears away so we can have some idea where the
steamer is. I believe we’re still within a dozen miles of our key, and
I hope the lighter may be between here and Tampa. Jake, suppose you go
forward and see what’s to be had in the way of breakfast. Chloe and
Gertie must eat in the cabin rather than run the risk of a wetting by
going to the mess-room.”
From this time on the passengers felt no fear. The sky was clearing
rapidly, and when the crew began repairing such damage as had been done
by the storm, the activity and animation everywhere around caused even
Chloe to look upon the situation as one wholly devoid of danger.
Jake brought aft an ample supply of food for breakfast, and before the
meal was eaten the steamer’s bow was turned toward Content Key once
more, the captain intending to run down to shoal water and then make
his way up the gulf in the direction of Cape Sable.
During the day the tug cruised as had been arranged, without seeing the
craft all were so eager to sight, and none of the castaways received
more attention than the cat. From the cook to the greenest deck-hand,
all united in caring for her welfare, and her time of fasting, when she
was driven ashore or made her way out of some turtling schooner, must
have been forgotten in this long thanksgiving day, for she received
full share of every dainty served.
When night came there was no longer any chance that the lighter had
gone ashore on the reefs in the vicinity of her starting point. It was
possible she had drifted directly up Barnes’ Sound, but this chance
seemed so remote that the captain had no intention of looking in that
direction until search elsewhere failed to reveal the missing craft.
So far as saving time was concerned, it was well he carried out the
original plan, for at ten o’clock next morning, when all hands were
acting as lookouts, the lighter was sighted at anchor near the entrance
to Hillsboro Bay, and two hours later she was made fast to the tug
once more, no damage having been done save the loss of a small portion
of the load, which had been thrown overboard when she was first cast
adrift.
There was no time for the crew to tell any lengthy story regarding
the incidents of the night, however, for as soon as the hawsers were
spliced the steamer started for Key West again, and the weather gave
promise that the journey would have no further interruption.
In this case the weather “signs” were read correctly. During the next
seventy-two hours there was not at any time more than a summer breeze,
and the last half of the trip was made over the most placid of seas. As
a matter of course, the progress was slow; but that had been expected,
and Captain Irwin was perfectly content when, on the morning of the
fourth day, the tug passed inside Rebecca shoal to approach Key West
from the south, through the main channel.
It was late in the evening when the wrecking crafts entered the harbor,
and, quite naturally, the castaways had no idea of landing until next
morning; but Captain Irwin held a serious consultation with them in the
cabin when everything was made snug for the night.
“We should be foolish to think of leaving Key West until after the
question of salvage has been settled,” he said by way of preface,
and Jake nodded his head gravely to show that he agreed to the first
proposition. “Now that matter may occupy two or three weeks, and the
expense at a hotel of such a party as ours will be considerable.”
“We can’t stay aboard here all the time,” Jake added quickly.
“You’re right; but we can hire a furnished house, and thus save
considerable money. By so doing we shall be decidedly more comfortable,
and it will make no very great difference how long we are delayed.”
There was no necessity of asking whether the plan met with the
approbation of the others for the answer could be read on their faces;
but the ex-cook of the Sea Queen thought a reply was needed, and spoke
for his companions as well as himself.
“We’ll be satisfied with whatever you say is best, captain, an’
’cordin’ to my way of thinkin’, nothin’ could be better’n hirin’ a
house, ’cause I don’t like the style of cookin’ in these parts.”
“Then you will all remain on board in the morning until I see what can
be done, and as it’s pretty late now we’d better turn in.”
The task of finding a temporary home for the castaways was neither a
long nor a difficult one. It was yet too early in the season for winter
visitors, consequently there were plenty of furnished cottages which
could be hired at a moderate price, and an hour after the cook of the
tug served breakfast Captain Irwin announced that the arrangements had
been made.
“I’ve found a neat little house of six rooms which overlooks the
harbor, and I should not be sorry to stay in it all winter. There is a
carriage on the dock, so that Chloe, Gertie and the cat may ride, and
in it can also be carried Ben’s box.”
An hour later the little party were in their temporary home. Captain
Irwin and Ben had gone out to purchase provisions, while Jake helped
old Chloe and Gertie “set things to rights,” as the latter said, and
the cat stalked gravely around inspecting the new place of abode.
“Bress de Lawd we’se in a house once mo’, an’ kin lay down widout bein’
’fraid de seas will knock us out ob bed,” old Chloe said with a sigh of
relief as she ceased work a few moments and gazed around with delight.
“I ain’t hardly knowed a minit’s peace sence dat wuffless Mose argered
me inter startin’ up Norf, an’ if we didn’t havter go on de water any
mo’, I’d feel jest as comfortable as a coon in de gum tree.”
“Wouldn’t you like to see your Moses again?” Gertie asked.
“’Deed chile, I don’ hanker arter it so much dat I’d like fur to get in
dem little boats any mo’. I’se gwine ter let you write him dat his ole
mammy’s h’yar, an’ he kin come ef he wants ter see her.”
Gertie was quite as well contented as the old woman. She had implicit
confidence in Captain Irwin’s promise to care for her, and it was a
matter of little moment whether they remained there or continued on to
New York. Jake, however, was not so happy; he hoped the question of
salvage might be settled without delay, for while they were on shore
old Chloe would be “captain of the kitchen,” and he was eager to be in
command of a well-appointed galley once more.
“I allers did hate to putter round where wimen are bossin’ a job,”
he said confidentially to the cat when the negress insisted on taking
entire charge of the culinary affairs, “an’ the sooner we’re afloat
agin the better I’ll be satisfied.”
He had walked into the yard toward the front gate while thus
complaining, and on glancing up the street all his imaginary woes were
banished for the time being by seeing Ben coming at full speed, with a
look on his face which betokened some trouble or disaster.
“Ahoy there! What’s the matter now, lad?” he cried as he opened the
gate and the boy entered like one who is nearly exhausted by long and
rapid traveling. “Has anything happened to Captain Irwin?”
“No--he’s--well--enough,” Ben replied with difficulty, forced to pause
at each word because he was literally gasping for breath. “Dr. Harlan’s
alive an’ in this very town!”
“Dr. Harlan!” Jake cried, stepping forward quickly and seizing Ben by
the arms as if fearing he had suddenly taken leave of his senses. “Do
you mean to tell me Gertie’s step-father, what went down in the Sea
Queen, is here?”
“He didn’t sink with the vessel, ’cause he’s in this town an’ as much
alive as I am. He told Captain Irwin he hung onto a couple of timbers
till the next day, when he was picked up by a steamer an’ brought here.”
“An’ the captain spoke to a man what’s jest as good as dead?”
“Of course he did. We went into a grocery store an’ he followed us.”
“Did you say anything to him, Ben?”
“No, ’cause while he was talkin’ with the captain I run so’s to get
Gertie out of the way.”
“Look here, Ben,” Jake said impressively, and glancing quickly around
like one who fancies he may see some terrible sight. “Are you sure it
wasn’t his ghost? Did you touch him to find out? Tim Jinks once knew of
a ghost what kept right on about his business, an’ folks didn’t know he
was dead for two or three days.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Ben said, his fear of Dr. Harlan making him nervous
and impatient. “He wasn’t any more of a ghost than you are, an’ it
won’t be many minutes before he comes here to take Gertie away. Captain
Irwin winked at me when the man begun to talk, an’ I knew he meant that
I was to get home quick.”
“But see here, lad, I don’t seem to understand this thing yet. I
thought the captain was the only one who got off of the Sea Queen.”
“You know now that this doctor escaped, an’ what can we do to prevent
him from gettin’ hold of Gertie?”
This important question so plainly asked seemed to bring the ex-cook to
his senses more quickly than any argument could have done, and he said
very decidedly, as he shut the gate with a vicious slam:
“I’d like to see him get into this house, that’s all. You lock every
window an’ door, while I stay here on guard. If he passes me it’ll be
’cause he’s a smarter man than I think for, an’ I reckon there’ll be
a chance to pay him back for some of the airs he put on while we was
aboard the old Sea Queen.”
Ben waited only long enough to assure himself that Jake fully
understood the extent of the danger which menaced, and then he ran into
the house, frightening old Chloe so much by his abrupt entrance that
she nearly fell over the stove.
There was no incredulity on the part of these listeners as he repeated
the story. Gertie’s face grew pale at hearing that the man whom she
feared so much was yet alive, and Chloe could not find words strong
enough to express her sympathy as she held the child closely in her
arms.
“He will come here to take me away, and I was _so_ happy! Oh, how can I
go with him--how can I?”
“You sha’n’t,” Ben cried in a tone of determination, suddenly
remembering that he had neglected to carry into execution the orders
given by Jake. “We’ll lock every door, an’ then see if he can get in.”
“I’se gwine to put some water on de stove, honey, an’ I’ll scald his
fingers suah, ef he touches de shortest hair on your head,” and old
Chloe arose for the purpose of carrying out the threat just as Ben
returned to report that he had barricaded the house to the extent of
his ability.
CHAPTER XIX.
DESPERATE MEASURES.
Ben’s surprise at seeing old Chloe busying herself about what he
fancied were household duties at a time when Gertie was in such peril,
caused him to ask impatiently:
“What’s the use of cooking now? We’d better be trying to help her
instead of thinking about eating.”
“I’se gwine ter keep dat man away frum here ef dere’s any vartue in
hot water,” the old woman replied with a menacing gesture. “Jas’ don’
trubble ’bout yer old mammy; she kin dribe white trash out ob her
kitchen, I reckon.”
“But you mustn’t do anything like that, aunty!” Ben cried in alarm.
“They would surely arrest you for scalding a man.”
“Nebber you min’, honey. I’se gwine ter keep ’em away frum dat lubley
chile ef dey does ’rest, an’ den we’ll see ef dey kin lug de whole ob
Mammy Chloe to de caboose. I tells you, honey, I’d be a powerful big
load for ’em to tote ef I didn’t wanter go.”
The old woman was so firmly convinced of the efficacy of her plan that
she continued the preparations despite Ben’s protests, and if Dr.
Harlan had presented himself just then it is more than probable he
would have met with a very warm reception.
Fortunately, however, Captain Irwin came first, and one look at his
face was sufficient to convince Gertie that the danger which threatened
her was quite as great as Ben had represented.
“He was sure you were with me when he saw Ben, and demanded that I give
you up,” the captain said, understanding from the appearance of those
in the kitchen that they knew whom he had met.
“And must I go?” Gertie asked, the tears filling her eyes despite the
brave efforts to keep them back.
“Not if I can prevent it. I’m on shore now, where the loss of two or
three weeks’ time don’t matter much, and he must appeal to the law, for
I shall resist any and every attempt to take you away.”
“Do you think he will come here?” Ben asked.
“There is no doubt but that he followed me, for I refused to say
where we were living, and it would not surprise me to see him at any
moment--that is,” the captain added with a grim smile, “if he succeeds
in getting past Jake.”
“Has he got the right to make her go with him?” Ben asked in a
tremulous tone.
“I’m afraid so, my boy. At least, the law will undoubtedly give him the
right unless we can show that he is an unfit person to have the care
of a child. I will wait here until we find out whether he intends to
attempt any force, and if nothing has been done by noon I’ll hunt up a
good lawyer to take charge of the case.”
There was no necessity of waiting so long, for the captain had hardly
ceased speaking when the sound of angry conversation from the front
yard told that Jake had a visitor.
“Don’t be frightened; he sha’n’t do you any harm,” the captain said
reassuringly as Gertie turned her pale face toward him imploringly.
“I’ll go out, and you lock the door behind me, Ben, for it won’t do to
take many chances.”
Then he left the room, Ben following his instructions to the letter,
and during the next half-hour not a word was spoken by the three
occupants of the kitchen, save when old Chloe crooned some negro melody
as she smoothed Gertie’s hair while the child clung to her in an agony
of apprehension.
When Captain Irwin reached the front yard, after passing entirely
around the house in order that he might have time to make up his mind
as to what he should do or say, Jake was entrenched behind the gate,
threatening Dr. Harlan with his clinched fists whenever the latter made
any attempt to enter.
“What do you mean by keeping my girl a prisoner in this house, and
preventing me from seeing her?” the now thoroughly angry man cried as
Captain Irwin appeared on the scene.
“She is not a prisoner, but has appealed to me for protection, and I am
all the more willing to grant it because I know what you would force
her to do. I presume I can prevent you from entering my house if I do
not choose to entertain such people.”
“I’ll take her out of there if I have to break down the doors,” the
quack cried, furious with rage.
“And I shall see to it that you do not have the chance,” Captain Irwin
replied, secretly delighted because the doctor had given an opportunity
of entering a complaint against him.
“You have got the upper hand now, for there are two against one,” Dr.
Harlan said in a snarling tone; “but I have rights as the husband of
her mother which the law will force you to respect, and it won’t be
many hours before you shall be made to understand that fact.”
As he ceased speaking he walked away in what was evidently intended to
be a dignified manner, and Captain Irwin said hurriedly to Jake:
“Of course he can do as he says, and while the case is being tried--for
I will fight him to the last--the court may give him the custody of
the child. I am going to consult a lawyer, and perhaps we may render
him powerless by having him put under bonds to keep the peace, for
he has publicly threatened to break into the house. Stand guard here
while I’m gone, and do not let any one enter, except, of course, an
officer should come with authority to take her away. Above all, don’t
give that man a hold on you by striking him, unless it is absolutely in
self-defence.”
“You needn’t worry about that part of it,” Jake replied grimly. “I’ll
stay on this side the fence, an’ I reckon the law gives me the right to
defend your property.”
Then the captain walked swiftly down the street in the same direction
as that taken by the doctor, and the ex-cook, fully impressed with the
importance of his position, remained stiff and erect, like a soldier
who expects an immediate attack from the enemy.
Not knowing what was taking place outside, for Gertie would not allow
Ben to leave the room even an instant in order to peer through the
front window, the occupants of the kitchen remained in painful suspense
for a long time, hearing nothing save the ordinary noise of the street,
until a loud, peremptory knock at the door brought all three to their
feet in the highest state of excitement and alarm.
“Don’ unlock it, honey; don’ touch de latch, kase it mus’ be dat
drefful man.”
“It’s me! Jake! Open the door quick,” a familiar voice cried, and an
instant later the ex-cook entered with a sheet of paper in his hand.
“Here’s a letter I jest got from the captain, an’ I can’t make any
sense out of the thing. He told me he was goin’ to see a lawyer, an’
while I was watchin’ for the big-whiskered doctor, a nigger boy brought
this. Read it, Gertie, an’ let’s see if all three of us can’t figger up
some kind of a meanin’.”
Gertie took the note, which had evidently been written hurriedly with a
lead-pencil, and read in a trembling voice the following:
“I am advised by the most reputable lawyer here, that in all
probability the child will be placed in the custody of some one
appointed by the court until the case is decided, and there can be no
question now but that Dr. Harlan intends to bring suit at once. In such
an event he would most likely try to steal her away, knowing the law
would hardly surrender her to him after we have shown the kind of a
life he proposes she shall lead.
“_It is positive he will not be able to so present his case that an
order of any kind would be issued until late this afternoon._
“If I should be commanded to give her up, _and knew where she_ was, it
would be necessary to obey.
“Ben has plenty of money in the box he found on Content Key, and there
are a number of large sail-boats here which can be purchased. Three
or four people could live on one of the small islands, ten or fifteen
miles north of the harbor, for several weeks without being discovered,
provided they did not even tell their best friend. By that time the
whole affair would be settled as we want it, with nothing more to fear
from the doctor in a legal way. If a party should make an excursion
to any of the keys near by, it would not be necessary to stop very
long preparing an elaborate outfit, since one of them could visit Key
West very often without fear of detection, and if advice was needed my
attorney, Joel L. Walker, would give it free of charge. It is not safe
for any one to say what Gertie ought to do, because of the questions
which might be asked in court.”
There was no signature to the letter; but none was needed, for all knew
perfectly well who the writer was, and when Gertie ceased reading, Jake
said with a long-drawn sigh:
“Now, if anybody here can make out the meanin’ of that thing, I’d like
to have them speak right up, for it sticks me.”
“Why he wants us to run away until the case is settled,” Ben replied
promptly. “If Gertie isn’t here she can’t be taken from us, and the
doctor won’t have any chance to carry her off.”
“If that’s a fact why don’t he talk right out so’s we’ll know exactly
what to do?” and Jake looked provoked as well as mystified.
“Because he’s afraid of being asked on his oath if he knows where she
is. Don’t you see that the letter jest the same as says so?”
“Do you believe Ben has got the right of it?” Jake asked, turning to
Gertie, who appeared to have been comforted rather than alarmed at the
advice.
“I’m sure he has, and the captain wants us to hurry, for he says that
nothing can be done by the doctor until late in the afternoon.”
Ben had not waited to discuss the matter. After replying to the
ex-cook’s questions, he ran into the room where his father’s box had
been left, took from the bag a handful of gold pieces, and returning to
the kitchen gave them to Jake as he said:
“We haven’t got a minute to spare unless we’re willin’ to run the risk
of losin’ Gertie. Here’s money enough to buy a boat. Don’t fool round
tryin’ to get her cheap. We’ll need a little something to eat, an’
stuff for a tent--perhaps you can find one all made. Be jest as quick
as you can, an’ when you’re ready to start come back for Gertie an’ me.”
Jake could not have hesitated had he so desired, for Ben in his
impatience to leave the key at the earliest possible moment, literally
pushed him out of the room, and when the door was fastened once more,
old Chloe said, as she commenced to bustle around, gathering up such
provisions as had already been brought into the house:
“I don’ s’pect de captin’ll want dese arter we’se gone, an’ dat
wuffless Jake dunno noffin’ ’bout gettin’ ’nuff ter eat.”
“Why you are to stay here, aunty. Somebody must take care of the
house,” Ben said in surprise.
“’Deed I isn’t gwine ter do any sich ting. D’yer s’pose old Chloe would
let dat lubley chile go off all by herself?”
“But we have got to leave in a little boat, an’ you said you wasn’t
going out sailin’ any more.”
“It’s gwine ter be hard totin’ my po’ old bones roun’ in dem
aig-shells, but I’se got ter do it,” and Chloe continued collecting the
articles as if she considered that the matter had been finally settled.
“You are so afraid of a boat, mammy, that it’s too bad to make you go
with us,” Gertie said as she stroked the wrinkled black hand. “Jake
can cook, and I shall get along by myself very well.”
“Don’ talk foolish, chile, don’ talk foolish. Yer po’ ole mammy hab got
ter go wid yer, an’ dat settles de whole ’scussion.”
“But what will Captain Irwin do if there’s nobody here to cook for
him?” Ben asked anxiously.
“De captin hab got ter grub roun’ fur vittles like any odder helpless
white man, kase I’se gwine ter go wid my chile.”
It was evident that Chloe was growing impatient because of these
attempts to dissuade her from what she considered the path of duty, and
the children refrained from saying anything more on the subject.
Owing to the fact that Captain Irwin and Ben had been interrupted in
their shopping at such an early hour, there was but little in the house
which would be of benefit to the party, and that only what Jake had
purchased while walking from the dock. It was all collected, however,
and tied up into packages which could most readily be carried. When
this was done old Chloe said to Ben:
“Now, honey, I wants yer ter gib yer old mammy some of dat money, so
she can buy some clo’es fur dat lubley chile. She’s needin’ a few
powerful bad, an’ I kin git back afore dat lazy Jake done gone fin’ a
boat.”
“But some one will see you, aunty.”
“S’pose dey do? Dat doctor man don’ know me frum any ob dese Key Wes’
niggers, kase I ain’t got on my bestest frock.”
Ben realized the force of this argument at once, and giving the old
woman four gold pieces, he opened the door leading into the back yard
as he said:
“Be as quick as you can, aunty, for we must leave here the minute Jake
is ready.”
“Don’ worry, honey, yer mammy ain’t so foolish as she looks, an’ she
won’t let de sailors be waitin’.”
In this old Chloe kept her word. It hardly seemed to Gertie and Ben
that she had had time to walk as far as the principal stores before she
was knocking at the door for admittance and crying reassuringly:
“It’s me, honey, don’ be feared.”
From the size of her bundle it was evident the old woman had purchased
quite an extensive outfit, but before it could be examined Jake entered.
“I’ve got a sloop-rigged craft with a little cuddy that will hold all
hands in case of a storm,” he said. “She’s at the dock back of this
house, an’ I reckon we can sneak through the small streets without much
chance of the doctor’s seein’ us, even if he’s snoopin’ round in front.”
“Did you get the other things?” Ben asked.
“Yes, I found a couple of pretty fair but small tents, an’ I reckon
there are provisions enough on board to last two or three days. We
haven’t got any time to lose, for it’s past noon, an’ it’ll take five
or six hours with this wind to reach such a key as we want to find.”
Everything was ready for the departure, and gathering up the many
packages, as well as the famous kitten, the little party left the house
in which so much enjoyment had been anticipated, to become castaways
once more, this time fearing pursuit as much as they had previously
hoped for succor.
CHAPTER XX.
FUGITIVES.
It was possible to reach the water’s edge without passing the front
of the house, and Jake led the way at a rapid pace, old Chloe panting
and groaning in her efforts to walk as fast as the others; but growing
angry whenever a proposition was made to slacken the speed for her
benefit. Each one was loaded down with bundles, and in addition Gertie
carried the kitten; but all pressed forward so eagerly that in less
than ten minutes they were on board the new purchase. She was a trim
little craft of not more than five tons burden, but of such light
draught that it would be safe to cruise in her anywhere among the keys
which were situated on the shoals.
No fault could have been found with Jake’s hasty bargain. The boat was
sloop-rigged, with a large cockpit, and a tiny cuddy starting from just
abaft the mast, in which were four bunks. Judging from appearances she
was nearly new, for her sails and rigging were in the best possible
condition.
“A party of sportsmen from up North brought her down here for one
season’s huntin’ an’ fishin’,” Jake said as the fugitives stepped
aboard, “an’ I got her at a bargain. She’ll carry us anywhere, an’ I’d
rather trust her in a storm than that lumbering old lighter we towed
from Content Key.”
Ben was not a good judge of such property, but he thought they had
every reason to be satisfied with the purchase, more especially after
being told that the price paid was only an hundred dollars, and even
old Chloe appeared willing to trust her precious body on the little
craft.
As may be supposed, no time was wasted in conversation. Although it
seemed as if they had succeeded in giving Dr. Harlan the slip, it was
possible he would appear at any moment, and matters might be very
awkward for Captain Irwin if the quack should learn in which direction
the little party had gone.
While Jake gave the details of his business transactions, he and Ben
were loosing the canvas, and the story had hardly been told before the
sloop was gliding out of the harbor toward the north, under a breeze so
gentle that she sailed very nearly on an even keel.
Old Chloe, Gertie and the cat were in the cuddy, for if Dr. Harlan
should chance to come on the dock before the yacht was out of sight he
would hardly fail to understand the true state of the case on seeing
two females aboard.
“Now, where are we going?” Ben asked, after he had done his portion of
the work by trimming the canvas down, flat, for the wind was from the
west.
“At this rate of sailin’ we oughter be ten miles away in a couple of
hours, an’ we won’t think of stoppin’ till then. There are plenty of
keys ’round here to choose from, an’ we’ll take the smallest we can find
that has any trees on it, for we must have somethin’ in the way of
foliage to hide the tent.”
Then, as a means of driving away the fear which was imprinted so
plainly on Gertie’s pale face, Jake begun to talk of Dr. Harlan’s being
defeated in his appeal to the law as if it was already an assured fact,
and before the little craft was five miles from the shore those on
board had the appearance of pleasure-seekers rather than fugitives.
At the expiration of two hours the yacht was skirting along the side of
a small reef, not more than half the size of Content Key, on the north
of which grew a thick clump of mangroves.
“There’s where we’ll land,” Jake said as he shifted the helm in order
to run across the shoal water and gain the shelter of the trees.
“’Cordin to the looks of the place we might stay here a year without
bein’ found. Take the tiller, Ben, while I go forward to see how much
water we’ve got.”
The little craft was of such light draught that she run to the very
edge of the shore before grounding, and ten minutes later the party
were in the midst of the trees selecting a site for the camp.
This task was neither long nor difficult; the mangroves grew so closely
together that a shelter from the wind could be had anywhere in the
thicket, and the first clear space sufficiently large to admit of
spreading the canvas was the one selected.
Two small A tents, each about six feet square, had been purchased by
Jake, and he said as he unrolled them ready for setting up:
“I would have got a big one if I could a’ found it; but you see we
were kinder pressed for time, an’ it wasn’t safe to be too particular.
Anyway, Gertie an’ aunty will have a house to themselves, an’ there’ll
be plenty of breathin’ space by dividin’ the stores between the tents.”
Ben believed this arrangement was much better than if one heavy canvas
was to be shared by all. There would be less danger in case of a heavy
wind; the small camps could not be seen so readily from the water, and
they were thus saved the labor of trying to form two rooms from a large
interior.
He and Jake set about erecting the shelter even before unloading the
stores, and the tents were placed side by side in such a manner that by
raising the inside walls during the day the effect of a single camp was
obtained.
Aunt Chloe and Gertie, seated on the sand close at hand, watched
this portion of the work, and the cat scampered around the key as if
rejoiced at being once more where she had perfect freedom of action,
but running up to her young mistress from time to time to assure
herself that there was no possibility of being deserted.
The task of taking the stores on shore occupied but a few moments after
the tents were erected, and when this had been done Jake said in a tone
of satisfaction:
“I reckon we’ll be about as snug here as if we’d staid at Key West, an’
I ain’t sure but I’ll like it better. Aunt Chloe an’ Gertie can put
the house to rights, an’ after me an’ Ben have seen to the yacht a bit
we’ll bury the water breaker so’s to keep it somewhere near cool. Now,
lad, let’s see what can be done to hide our craft, for we don’t know
how soon that quack may take it in his head to look ’round the keys for
us.”
This was not an easy matter, for the sloop was much too heavy to be
hauled upon shore, and her mast could not be unstepped without taking
down all the standing rigging. After studying the question carefully
for some moments, and realizing that the little craft must of a
necessity remain in the water, Jake said with the air of a man who has
solved a difficult problem:
“We’ll anchor her close in shore, and then cover the spars and hull
with mangrove branches, so she’ll look like a tree when seen from a
distance. It isn’t likely Gertie’s step-father would take the trouble
of searchin’ every key, an’ if he doesn’t see anything suspicious there
won’t be much danger of his coming ashore.”
It was two hours before this work had been done to Jake’s entire
satisfaction, and then it would have required a very close scrutiny to
distinguish a boat in this seeming clump of bushes which was apparently
growing in the water about ten feet from the shore. It would be
necessary to move the little craft further out in case of a heavy sea,
but while there was no surf running she would be perfectly safe even
with her bow resting on the sand. The light kedge was used to moor her,
and Jake hove the cable taut, intending to let out more slack during
the evening.
To land after the task had been accomplished it was necessary to wade
a short distance; but that was of little consequence since the weather
was warm and the water very shoal.
Then the breaker, a small cask holding about five gallons, was buried
in the sand at such a depth that the wide bung was but just exposed,
and the laborers were quite ready for the cold meal old Chloe had
prepared.
“We’ll rig up some kind of a fire-place in the morning, an’ if we can’t
do much cookin’ on it you can at least have your tea,” Ben said as he
did full justice to the bread and butter, boiled ham and fruit.
“I ain’t gwine ter rouse any trubble,” Chloe said with the air of one
who fancies she is making a martyr of herself for others; “but I can’t
linger ’roun’ here berry long widout a little sometin’ hot.”
“You shall have it now,” Jake replied quickly, probably because he
also desired a warm drink, and before the mantle of night had covered
the key a steaming pot of tea was served by way of dessert to the cold
supper they had enjoyed.
All of the party were tired, for the excitement had wearied as much
as the labor, and when the meal was brought to a close every one felt
perfectly willing to retire. A lantern was hung in Gertie and Chloe’s
tent, the wall of canvas dropped, and without a thought of the yacht,
which was riding at a dangerously short cable, the ex-cook wrapped
himself in the blankets, fully prepared for a long night’s rest.
If Jake had been half as good a sailor as he claimed to be cook, his
first thought would have been to care for the safety of the boat; but
he was not, and with foliage enough on her spars to act as a reasonably
good-sized sail, the little craft swung to and fro under the influence
of the night wind, lifting the kedge with each undulation of the light
swell as she slipped inch by inch into deeper water.
The feeling of security which came upon the fugitives when they
succeeded in leaving Key West without being seen by Dr. Harlan,
increased decidedly after the tents were put up on the tiny key, and
served to make their slumbers all the more profound. When the sun
looked up over the sea at the low-lying reefs they were yet asleep, and
not until his rays had dissipated the dampness of the dew did either
awake.
It was old Chloe who first opened her eyes, and she performed her
toilet in the salt water without noticing that any of their belongings
were missing. Her only thought was to begin the duties of the day under
the mild exhilaration of her favorite beverage, and while building
a small fire near the canvas dwellings, Jake made his appearance,
yawning until it seemed as if his jaws would be dislocated.
“We had a pretty long watch below, eh, aunty? I feel as if I could go
back an’ take another twelve-hour snooze, but we’ll have all the sleep
we want before it’s time to make Key West agin. Halloo! What’s----”
He made no effort to finish the question, but stood staring out over
the sea as if he saw some terrible sight, and his loud exclamation
caused Ben to come from the tent very quickly.
“What’s the matter?” he asked nervously, alarmed by the expression on
the man’s face.
“The boat!” Jake cried, pointing to the shore where Ben had last seen
the sloop. “I forgot to give her more cable before I turned in, an’ she
has gone adrift!”
Ben gave one quick glance around, and as nothing met his eager gaze
but the placid sea and shimmering green of the foliage, he ran at full
speed toward the indentation of the beach which had served as harbor.
Here he gained an unobstructed view of the waters, on which, far away
to the eastward, could be seen a clump of green as if some of the
mangroves had left the reef on an independent cruise.
“There she is!” he cried as Jake and Chloe joined him, the latter
puffing and blowing like a miniature steam-engine. “I believe I can
swim that far, for the sea is as calm as a pond.”
“Don’t go to tryin’ anything so wild as that,” and Jake seized the boy
by the shoulder roughly to prevent him from taking off his clothes.
“There are plenty of sharks ’round here, an’ even if they could be
steered clear of, you’d never reach her.”
[Illustration: +Jake seized Ben by the shoulders to prevent him from
swimming for the boat.+]
“But we can’t let her drift away,” Ben cried, struggling to release
himself from the cook’s detaining grasp. “If she’s lost how can we get
to Key West? Nobody knows where we are, an’ it might be two or three
months before Captain Irwin could find us among all these reefs.”
“That’s true, lad, but however bad we’re fixed now, I ain’t goin’ to
let you make it worse by doin’ what’ll surely end in death. The sloop
is driftin’ further away every minute, an’ it would take a ten-mile
swim to catch her.”
“We can’t stand here an’ see her go without doin’ anything to prevent
it.”
“We’ve got to, lad. It’s my fault that she went adrift, an’ I’d take
pretty big chances for the sake of bringing her back, but babies
couldn’t be any more helpless than we are now. I oughter be thumped
black an’ blue, an’ then pickled for bein’ sich a fool. The idea of my
goin’ to sleep when I knew the cable was hove so short that any catspaw
of wind would send her adrift!”
It seemed as if Jake’s condemnation of himself caused Ben to fully
realize the situation, and he no longer made any attempt to swim after
the slowly receding craft. When his excitement subsided a little he
understood how futile would be such an effort, and said quietly as he
removed the cook’s hand from his shoulder:
“You needn’t be afraid of my tryin’ to swim, for it would be foolish.
Don’t blame yourself for what can’t be helped, an’ let’s go back to the
tent. Perhaps we can rig up some plan for gettin’ away from here when
we want to go.”
By this time Gertie had joined the party; but, much to Ben’s surprise,
she did not appear to consider the loss of the boat such a great
misfortune. Her one fear was that she might be again in Dr. Harlan’s
power, and any disaster would have seemed small by comparison.
“Captain Irwin will find us,” she said confidently. “We have got a
comfortable place in which to live, food enough for some time, and it’s
wicked to feel so badly about what can’t be helped.”
“Well,” Jake said with a long-drawn breath of astonishment, “if a child
like you can take things so easy, I reckon an old shell-back like me
ain’t got any call to kick up a row. We’ll get breakfast, an’ then
kinder take account of stock, for we’ve got to be mighty careful of the
provisions an’ water till we know how to get more.”
Then Ben remembered how small the cask was which they had buried in the
sand, and he knew the time must speedily come when there would be no
water to drink; but nothing could be gained by reminding his companions
of this unpleasant fact, therefore he followed the others back to the
tents in silence.
CHAPTER XXI.
AN OPPORTUNE ARRIVAL.
Each member of the party, with the exception of Chloe, was doing his
or her best to appear cheerful during the time they were preparing and
eating breakfast, and the result naturally was that the enforced gayety
gave no signs of mirth. It is barely possible Gertie did not have any
dismal forebodings regarding the future, but the others realized fully
the sufferings they might be called upon to bear, though all were
careful to avoid any word which would lead the conversation into this
very unpleasant channel.
Chloe discussed with Jake the question of how an oven, which would
serve every purpose of a stove, could be built, and Ben carried on
a conversation with Gertie regarding the cat, until the meal was
finished, when the former cook of the Sea Queen beckoned for Ben to
follow him as he said carelessly:
“We’ll look around the island a bit, an’ in the course of an hour or
so come back here to build the oven for aunty. There ain’t any need
of hurryin’ very much for we’ve got more time than we know what to do
with.”
Ben understood that this proposition to explore the key was only made
in order to give them an opportunity of discussing the situation, and
he walked on in silence until they were at the extreme end of the reef,
when he asked:
“How long will our provisions last, Jake?”
“A good while longer than the water, I reckon,” was the reply in a tone
of despair. “We could manage to catch some fish, with now an’ then a
turtle to help out on; but we’ve got to keep drinkin’ all the time, an’
where’s the water comin’ from? Our five gallons may see us through a
couple of days, countin’ what we’ve used already, an’ then what’ll we
do?”
“It may rain before we’ll have to answer the question,” Ben suggested;
but at the same time he knew that such good fortune was hardly within
the range of possibilities.
“You might jest as well say perhaps the yacht will drift back here,
for neither of them chances is likely to turn up,” and Jake spoke very
sharply, as if he believed his companion was treating a serious problem
with too much levity.
“I only said _perhaps_ it might rain. Of course we wouldn’t expect to
find water by digging into a coral reef, an’ when what’s in the breaker
gives out we’ll go thirsty unless some vessel comes this way.”
“That’s the very thing,” Jake said quickly as if this was the point
to which he had been trying to bring the conversation. “Captain Irwin
won’t hunt for us until after two weeks at the very least, ’cause if
we don’t show up in Key West he’ll think we’re all right, an’ the only
hope we’ve got is that a craft of some kind will heave in sight.”
“Would you go back to Key West an’ run the chance of Dr. Harlan’s
seein’ Gertie?”
“It’ll be better to do that than die from thirst,” was the quick reply;
“but we needn’t take them risks. One of us might go there, see the
captain, an’ then come back for the others, for of course a little
water could be got from whatever craft we hailed to keep them as was
left behind from suffering.”
“You know I’m ready to agree to anything which promises to get us out
of the trouble,” Ben said when Jake paused as if for an answer; “but we
must wait till a vessel comes along.”
“That’s a fact, and between whiles it’s our business to rig up
somethin’ that’ll answer for a signal of distress, after which we’ll
take turns at standin’ watch. We want a piece of white cloth, an’ I
reckon it won’t do any harm to tear a strip from one of the tents.”
“Perhaps Chloe has got some; she bought a lot of things for Gertie jest
before we come away.”
“Go an’ see, while I’m lookin’ for somethin’ that’ll serve as a
flag-staff.”
Ben went toward the tents, which were completely hidden from the view
of those on the westerly end of the key by the trees, and on arriving
there found Gertie and Chloe busily engaged in the household duties as
if nothing had occurred to cause them any distress of mind. The old
woman was evidently making ready the new wardrobe she had purchased for
the child, for a quantity of material, as well as a number of outside
garments, lay on the sand just inside the tent.
“That’s the very thing I want, aunty,” Ben said as he pointed to a roll
of cotton cloth. “Will you give me two or three yards?”
“Spects I’ll hab ter, honey; but don’ go cuttin’ up any monkey shines
wid it, kase I paid ten cents for ebery yard.”
Ben did not explain for what purpose he intended to use the cloth; but,
cutting off as much as he believed would be necessary for a signal,
hurried away before any questions could be asked.
Jake’s portion of the work was the most difficult, owing to the lack of
material, and he had done hardly more than settle upon a definite plan
when Ben returned.
“I’m goin’ to hunt among the mangroves for the longest straight branch
that can be found. You get a big pile of wood together while I’m gone,
an’ then our signal of distress will be finished. If we’re lucky enough
to sight a vessel anywhere near the key we ought to be able to attract
attention by sending up a lot of smoke an’ wavin’ a white flag at the
same time.”
It was nearly noon before these preparations were completed. The cotton
cloth hung from a pole about ten feet long, and near by was a stack of
wood as high as Ben’s head, with a lot of shavings at the base by which
a quick fire could be kindled.
“If I hadn’t been sich a fool we wouldn’t have to do anything like
this,” Jake said in a petulant tone as the two went toward the tents
for dinner. “We could be takin’ our ease with a trim little craft
anchored close by, an’ this trip wouldn’t seem anything more’n a bit of
pleasurin’. Now we’ve lost the boat, which cost an hundred dollars, an’
still it’ll be nothin’ but a big piece of luck if we get away without
knowin’ what it means to be mighty thirsty.”
“Is there any chance that vessels will come this way? The water is so
shoal that a very big one couldn’t get within five miles.”
“The sponge-fishers use light-draught craft, an’ some of ’em must
cruise near about. If we could hail one it oughter be an easy matter to
buy some water, an’ a passage for you or I to Key West. I reckon you
brought the money?”
“It’s all in the tent except what I gave you an’ Aunt Chloe,” Ben
replied, and then he relapsed into silence as he wondered how much of
his father’s little hoard would be left when he finally succeeded in
reaching New York.
Dinner was ready when the two arrived at the canvas dwelling, and
despite Gertie’s attempts to cheer her companions, but little merriment
was indulged in during the meal. Even Chloe had begun to feel
depressed, for while making tea she discovered how limited was the
supply of water, and it seemed almost a relief to Ben when Jake said,
as he concluded a not very hearty meal:
“If I have been the dumbest kind of a fool in some things, I managed to
buy a couple of fish-lines an’ hooks, an’ we’ll see what can be done
this afternoon toward splicin’ out the provisions. I reckon we can
catch some red snappers over on the west side where we’ve been workin’.”
After cutting a slice of raw pork for bait, he set out with Ben, saying
when they were at such a distance from the tents that his words could
not be overheard:
“We’ve got to stand watch, lad, an’ we might as well have a little
business on hand to make the time pass quicker.”
But fishing was work rather than amusement while they were so troubled
regarding the future, and the hours dragged along quite as wearily
as if nothing had been done save gaze over the mirror-like water in
the vain hope of seeing a sail. When the sun sunk behind the reefs
not so much as a sleeping turtle had been seen, but the time was not
absolutely wasted, for five small red snappers were shown as the
result of seven hours’ labor.
“’Pears to me like dey was too small to cook,” old Chloe said
doubtfully, as Ben laid the fish in front of her with the request that
they be served up for supper. “I’se powerful fond ob snappers, but dem
ain’t much more’n bones.”
“They must weigh about a pound apiece, an’ I reckon they’ll turn out
great for pan-fish, but if you don’t want to fry ’em on account of the
size, why I’ll have to try my hand at it.”
As he spoke Jake begun to make ready for the work, and Chloe, jealous
lest her privileges as cook should be encroached upon, cried angrily:
“G’way frum dere. Day’ll be spiled suah ef you meddles wid ’em. I’se
gwine ter git right ter work, an’ when I’se frou you kin mess wid de
bones ef you’se achin’ ter show how sailors hab to live. It makes my
ole head snap ter see men folks foolin’ roun’ ’splainin’ what great
cooks dey is.”
“All right, aunty, have it your own way an’ you’ll live the longer. I
wouldn’t a’ said a word only I thought you didn’t want to bother with
’em. Ben an’ me have got plenty to do gatherin’ fire-wood.”
Old Chloe made no reply, but begun bustling around as if all her
strength and energies were necessary in the proper preparation of the
fish, and finding that she could be of no assistance in preparing the
evening meal, Gertie joined the others in the work of collecting fuel.
The party were thus busily engaged, and at least two had begun to build
hopes of sighting some passing craft next day, when all were absolutely
dazed with fear by hearing a cry from the water, apparently not more
than an hundred yards away:
“Halloo! on the key!”
It was nearly a minute before Jake gathered his scattered senses
sufficiently to reply, and then he shouted at the full strength of his
lungs:
“Boat ahoy! ahoy!”
“Well, we can hear without so much noise,” was the reply in an ordinary
tone of voice. “What are you doing on shore?”
Again was Jake dilatory about answering, for that question caused both
him and Ben to fear that the strangers might have been sent by Dr.
Harlan--perhaps the quack himself was in the boat.
“We’re out here for a little sport,” Ben replied after waiting so long
that it seemed certain suspicious had been aroused if the strangers
were in search of them. “Are you coming ashore?”
“Yes, we may as well stretch our legs a bit, I suppose,” the voice
replied, and the rattle of cordage told that a sail was being lowered.
“Stand by to take our line, will you?”
“All right,” Ben shouted, and then he whispered to Gertie: “Run back to
the tents, hide the clothes so these men won’t know there are any women
about, then take the kitten and go way over on the other side of the
key. They may be spies your step-father has sent, an’ you must keep out
of sight.”
The mention of the man whom she feared so much was sufficient to make
Gertie move very quickly, and Ben had hardly ceased speaking before she
was running toward the fire at full speed.
Jake went at once to the very edge of the water, understanding now
what a mistake he had possibly made in not answering the question the
instant it was asked, and when Ben joined him was pulling in on a light
heaving-line.
Slowly the strange craft was hauled out of the gloom until it could be
seen that she was a single-masted boat about the same size of the one
which had gone adrift, and Jake asked of the man who stood in the bow:
“Which way have you come from, stranger?”
“We’ve been in Barnes’ Sound for the last two or three weeks.”
“Didn’t see anything of a stray boat, did you?”
“No; have you lost one?”
“Yes; ours went adrift last night, an’ we’re shut up on this key
without any too much provisions or water. Where are you bound?”
“To Key West. If you are thirsty we can spare you something to drink,
for I suppose we must be pretty near the town?”
“It ain’t more’n ten miles south of here.”
The strangers had come ashore by this time, and, to his great relief,
Ben saw that they were two young men evidently bent on sport rather
than such business as Dr. Harlan’s.
A short conversation showed them to be from the North on a fishing and
hunting excursion, and both Ben and Jake felt that fortune or chance,
whichever it might be, had been very kind in sending them at such a
time. Having come from the sound, while the anxious ones were keeping
watch on the west side of the key, it was impossible to sight her
before dark, which was sufficient explanation of what at first seemed
like a mysterious arrival, and with not a fear now that the strangers
might be hunting for Gertie, the ex-cook lost no time in making
arrangements for a passage to Key West.
“What’ll you take to let one of us go on with you?” he cried. “We’ve
got to buy another boat, an’ don’t want to break up here yet awhile.”
“You’re welcome to a passage if you’ll do your share of the work,” one
of the men replied heartily. “Take a breaker of water ashore now, and
that portion of the trouble will be ended.”
As may be supposed, Jake and Ben worked with a will at this task, and
when the contents of the cask had been emptied into the one which was
buried, the strangers approached the camp-fire.
“Take hold an’ have supper with us,” Jake said as he removed the
decidedly overdone fish from the coals, and in a few moments all four
were busily engaged, the new-comers evidently having no suspicion that
there was any one else on the key.
“When are you going to start?” Jake asked, after his guests had eaten a
hearty meal, despite the diminutive size of the fish.
“I suppose we may as well take advantage of the night wind, for it’s
coming in pretty fresh just now, and we ought to be there before
bed-time. Which of you will go? We can carry both as well as not.”
“I’ll stay here,” Ben said decidedly. “Jake can bring the boat back
better than I, so he’s the one to do the business.”
“Come on, then,” one of the strangers said as he led the way toward the
boat, and Jake lingered behind only long enough for Ben to bring some
money from the tent.
CHAPTER XXII.
WAITING AND WATCHING.
When they were in the tent, and while Ben was taking the gold from its
hiding-place, it occurred to Jake that perhaps he was selfish in going
to Key West without first learning whether his companion would like to
make the trip, and he said:
“I reckon you could do the business as well as I can, lad, an’ perhaps
better. Now, s’posen you go; I’ll stay here and take care of things,
an’ won’t be sorry at gettin’ out of the job.”
“You’re the one who must do the work, for I couldn’t manage anything
larger than a row-boat, an’ besides, I’d never be able to find this key
again.”
“I’m willin’, of course, but thought perhaps you wanted the job. You’ve
got provisions an’ water enough to last three days, with what fish can
be caught, so none of the crowd will suffer if I don’t hurry right
back.”
“Take plenty of time to get all that’s needed, an’ be sure to have a
good talk with the lawyer, if it ain’t safe to see the captain himself.
We shall get along in fine style, even if you’re away four days, now
that we’re no longer worryin’ about water.”
“I won’t say good-by to Gertie, for I don’t want to run the risk of
her bein’ seen by those strangers. Watch out for me after forty-eight
hours, for that will give me plenty of time in case we reach Key West
to-morrow mornin’.”
Then Jake hurried away, and when Ben reached the shore, after having
replaced his gold in its hiding-place, the boat was being poled out
into deeper water before the sails were set.
“Enjoy yourself fishin’,” the ex-cook shouted as the little craft was
swallowed up in the gloom, and Ben barely had time to reply before the
sound of halliards running through the blocks was heard.
“I’ll be all right, so take your time to attend to business.”
Then the hum of conversation died away in the distance as the yacht
forged ahead under the influence of the strong night wind, and when he
could hear nothing more Ben started toward the south side of the key to
tell Gertie and Chloe that they might safely return to the camp.
He found the child in the greatest distress, for, not having been
summoned as soon as it was possible to learn the stranger’s errand, she
felt sure they had come in search of her; but after Ben had explained
all that had happened, she soon recovered her usual good spirits, and
it was a very jolly party which gathered around the fire, bent on
preparing once again the interrupted supper.
“You needn’t be saving of either the provisions or the water, mammy,”
Ben said as he fed the flames with a huge bundle of wood. “Jake will be
back before we can use half the stuff we’ve got, an’ when he does come
you may be certain the second boat won’t get away.”
Old Chloe had been as anxious as either Ben or Jake regarding the
supplies; but now that all necessity for economy was removed she set
about preparing a most elaborate meal, and a merry, care-forgetting
party was it which partook of the viands on that tiny key.
The meal was prolonged until a very late hour in the evening, and when
the castaways sought shelter in the tents it was with the happy belief
that before the sun had set twice more they would have the means of
leaving the reef whenever it should be their pleasure so to do.
“We’se got no call to fuss any mo’,” old Chloe said as she and Gertie
went into their tent, “an’ de Lawd is so good to us dat we’ll get
’roun’ dat medicine doctor yet. We ain’t out here in de wilderness like
de children of Israel for nothin’, an’ whenebber we do get to a home
we’ll fin’ it oberflowin’ wid milk an’ honey, same’s dey did.”
Just at that moment the surf beat against the sandy shore unusually
loud, and Chloe remembered that they had no other defender than Ben,
which caused her to grow very nervous.
“Wha’ dat noise?” she asked in a whisper, and after waiting a few
seconds without receiving any reply from Gertie, she cried: “Don’ go
tryin’ fur ter skeer yer ole mammy, Ben, jes’ kase she’s pretty nigh
alone on dis h’yar little bunch ob sand.”
“I ain’t doin’ anything,” Ben said sleepily. “There’s nothin’ to be
afraid of if Jake is away, for we’re sure that nobody but us is on the
key, an’ it isn’t likely we’ll have any more visitors before morning at
the soonest.”
Now that Chloe had begun to be timid it was not possible to quiet
her rising fears. During the next two hours she called to Ben at
least twenty times, asking the cause of certain imaginary noises, and
insisting that he get up and search over the key to learn whether or
no maliciously disposed persons had landed for the purpose of working
some injury to the party.
It was not until slumber closed her eyelids that either of the children
could go to sleep; but when the occupants of the camp did sink into
a state of repose, they remained unconscious of all fancied danger
until a late hour next morning, when Ben was awakened by the sunlight
streaming through the open flap of the tent across his face.
After calling the others, his first care was to look out over the
placid waters, for it was impossible to check the fear that Dr. Harlan
might send or come himself in search of Gertie; but nothing could be
seen. If the cask had not been filled this absence of a sail would have
caused him great disappointment, whereas he now felt a most intense
satisfaction.
“I don’t want to see the least little bit of a boat till Jake gets
back,” he said to himself as he built the fire, “for then we sha’n’t be
afraid that any one is comin’ for her.”
That this wish was to be gratified during one day at least seemed
positive, for nothing passed within view of the tiny key as the hours
wore on. Chloe fairly outdid herself in the preparation of breakfast,
and when that meal had been eaten the castaways, with the cat following
very close to Gertie, walked around their place of refuge, or out over
the water on the mangrove roots to watch the beautifully colored fish,
which darted to and fro among the coral branches, making their gorgeous
hues seem more vivid by contrast.
Those who have never witnessed such a sight can hardly conceive what
brilliant colors may be found in the sea. That ardent sportsman, Dr.
Henshall, says:
“The fishes about the keys are very handsome, both in form and
coloration; silvery, rosy, scarlet, brown and golden bodies, with
sky-blue, bright yellow, rosy, or black stripes and bands, or spotted,
stellated and mottled with all the hues of the rainbow, and with
jeweled eyes of scarlet, blue, yellow or black; fins of all colors and
shapes, and lips of scarlet, red, blue or silver.”
Ben did not attempt to catch any of these gaudy neighbors. His
experience of the previous day had shown him that they were not easily
coaxed from their natural element with no more alluring bait than salt
pork, and there was no longer the incentive of adding to the contents
of the larder, for they had sufficient food on hand to supply every
want till Jake returned, unless, indeed, he should be delayed by some
accident.
It was a happy day for all. Even old Chloe, who complained at every
opportunity that by wandering over the sand she was sure to “git de
rheumatiz powerful bad,” appeared to thoroughly enjoy herself, and when
they laid down to sleep there was not so much as the shadow of a fear
in the mind of either member of the party.
“We may expect to see Jake by to-morrow night if there is any wind,”
Ben said just before falling asleep, and when he next realized anything
some one was shaking him roughly by the shoulder and shouting:
“Turn out here, my hearty, unless you’re countin’ on stayin’ below all
day. If the doctor was anywhere round he could steal the whole crowd
before one of you could so much as open an eye.”
It was the ex-cook, as Ben saw after he leaped to his feet in alarm,
and an instant later all three were asking a perfect flood of questions
at the same time.
“The easiest way will be for me to spin a reg’lar yarn, ’cause it
would take too much time to answer all you want to know in sections.
You start the fire while my tongue keeps runnin’, Ben, for I’m hungry
enough to eat three men’s rations. I left Key West jest before sunrise
this mornin’, an’ haven’t had a bite since last night.”
Ben did as he was bidden. Chloe and Gertie made very hasty toilets, and
then came out into the open air where they could see the cook while he
told his story.
“We got into Key West about three hours after we left here, night
before last,” Jake said as he threw himself in a comfortable position
on the sand, and spoke slowly as if thoroughly enjoying his importance.
“I didn’t try to find that lawyer Captain Irwin told of till the next
mornin’, an’ then I’d been waitin’ at his office nigh onto two hours.
He wasn’t a bit surprised because I was there, but talked just as cool
an’ quiet like as if he’d met me every day.”
“Never mind that part of it,” Ben interrupted with a gesture of
impatience. “Tell us what he said about Gertie.”
“Now don’t hurry me, an’ you’ll git the yarn all the quicker,” Jake
replied with considerable dignity. “I told him I wanted every bit of
news, an’ he said as how the quack doctor brought a suit against the
captain jest as he threatened to do. If Gertie had been there he might
a’ got hold of her at the start, but it wasn’t hard to show what he
made her do when the Sea Queen stopped at Key West, an’ now the lawyer
says that it ain’t at all likely the judge would appoint any one except
the captain to take charge of her.”
“Isn’t the case settled yet?” Gertie asked in surprise. “It seems as
if there had been time enough to say I’d rather die than go away with
that man.”
“It won’t be fixed for good till you go back and tell your story in
court, an’----”
“Then he would be sure to catch me,” Gertie cried as a look of fear
came over her face. “I had rather stay right here ’till the captain
gets ready to go to New York.”
“You can’t do that,” and Jake spoke very decidedly now. “The lawyer
says we must get there on Monday or Tuesday about eleven o’clock in the
forenoon, an’ he’ll have a man waitin’ at the dock for us so’s there
won’t be any chance of the doctor’s doin’ mischief. You’ve got to tell
your story before the thing can be wound up, an’ there’s no gettin’ out
of it. To-morrow is Sunday, an’ we’ll stay here quiet an’ snug till the
next mornin’.”
“Did you see the captain?” Ben asked.
“No; an’ the lawyer advised me to keep away from him, ’cause what
he don’t know he can’t be made to tell. I run plump into the quack
yesterday afternoon, an’ he wanted to stop an’ have a talk, but I kept
straight on about my business.”
“Do you suppose there was any chance he followed to see which way you
came?” and Gertie’s face began to grow pale with apprehension as she
thought such a contingency possible.
“I don’t reckon he did. He was nosin’ ’round the docks last night, but
I didn’t get under-weigh, although everything was ready. That’s why I
started so early this mornin’, an’ if he saw my boat when she left the
harbor, he must a set up all night.”
This reminded Ben of the new craft, and while Chloe was cooking
breakfast he went with Gertie and Jake to inspect her.
She was much larger than the one which had gone adrift, and was
schooner-rigged, with a beam so broad it seemed as if she could not
draw more than ten inches.
“I didn’t buy her,” Jake said quickly, fancying Ben looked anxious
because of the possible cost. “She was layin’ down at that New York
firm’s dock--they’ve been usin’ her for a sponger--an’ by gettin’ the
lawyer to guarantee that she’d be brought back safe and sound, I hired
her for three dollars a day. She’s a pretty fair sailer, has a cabin
big enough to hold all hands, an’ acts like a good sea-boat. I thought
perhaps we might start out this afternoon an’ hunt for our sloop.”
Before Ben could make any objections to this plan Gertie cried, as she
pointed toward the south:
“See! there’s a boat coming this way from the direction of Key West!
Are you sure, Jake, that no one saw when you left?”
“I allowed I’d given ’em all the slip,” the ex-cook muttered half to
himself as, shading his eyes with his hands, he gazed out over the
water at a small craft of not more than three or four tons burden,
which was coming toward the key at a spanking rate.
“They’re headin’ straight for us,” Ben said nervously. “Did you notice
a boat near here when you landed?”
“I didn’t look, an’ that’s a fact. It was too dark to make out if any
craft left the harbor behind me, and an hour afterward I was among that
nest of keys where one would have been hidden even if it was only two
or three miles astern. Say, Ben, can you tell the color of her hull?”
“I should say it was white with a red ribbon,” the boy replied, after
a close scrutiny of the approaching stranger, and as he spoke Jake
brought his hand down on his thigh with a resounding slap.
“It’s the very craft that anchored pretty close alongside of me about
eleven o’clock last night. I’ll bet a doughnut agin’ a big apple that
the quack was aboard at the time, an’ when I got under-weigh they up
anchor an’ follered. Oh, what a fool I can make of myself without much
tryin’!”
“If he is coming you and Ben can’t prevent him from taking me away,”
Gertie said with quivering lips, and a look of agony shone in the big,
brown eyes which aroused Ben very suddenly from his stupor of surprise.
“We needn’t stay here!” he cried. “They can’t make the key for half an
hour, and there’s nothin’ to stop us from leavin’ at once. If our boat
doesn’t sail any faster than that craft, we can at least reach Key West
in time to put you under the lawyer’s care.”
“You’re right, lad, you’re right, and there isn’t a minute to spare,”
Jake shouted as he ran at full speed toward the tents. “Let’s get this
stuff on board an’ be off.”
“Don’t wait for anything,” Ben cried. “We had better lose all we’ve got
than have him catch Gertie.”
“But we must take a portion, lad, for there’s no knowin’ how long we’ll
be cruisin’ around, an’ we may need all the provisions an’ water.”
Recognizing the truth of this remark, Ben followed Jake’s example
without delay, and while three of the party were exerting themselves to
the utmost, the strange craft was steadily drawing nearer the key.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A STERN CHASE.
To Ben it seemed as if he had never been so awkward as now, when every
moment was precious. In trying to gather up half a dozen articles at
the same time, he was of necessity obliged to drop several, and the
result proved to him the truth of the old adage that “the more haste
the less speed.”
Gertie was doing more effective work than any other member of the
party. Fear, instead of rendering her nervous, made her the more
methodical, and she had been from the tents to the boat twice with an
armful of goods before Ben succeeded in carrying his first load.
Old Chloe was absolutely helpless. When Jake shouted the startling
information that Dr. Harlan was fast approaching the key, she sank upon
the sand a helpless, quivering mass of black flesh, which was by no
means silent. She alternately called the names of her companions, or
uttered the most absurd threats in case the quack should dare to land,
and the outcry only served to make the others more nervous.
“Don’t stop to take down the tents, lad,” Jake cried as Ben began
unloosening the ropes. “We can afford to lose ’em, an’ there won’t be
room in the boats for everything. Make sure of your money, an’ when
I’ve got this water-breaker aboard we’ll start.”
All the stores, as well as the greater portion of the camp equipage,
had been conveyed to the little craft by this time, and Gertie was
trying to catch the kitten, who appeared to think her young mistress
was bent on a frolic, when Jake stowed the cask in the cuddy.
“Come, aunty, we’re off now,” Ben said as he tried to shake the old
woman into something approaching activity. “Get down to the boat as
quick as you can.”
“Dey’ll drownd all hands ef dey ketch us on dat ’ar little aig-shell,”
she moaned, without making any effort to rise, and Ben looked from her
to the craft in the distance, which was coming down upon the key so
rapidly.
“If we get away before they are in a position to stop us we shall be
all right,” he cried imploringly. “_Please_ hurry, aunty.”
“We’ll have to drag her along,” Jake said as he came running from the
shore at full speed. “Go on board at once, even if you have to leave
the kitten behind,” he shouted to Gertie, and then seizing Chloe by the
arm, began to pull her toward the boat with no more ceremony than if
she had been a not very valuable article of merchandise.
Ben understood that heroic measures only would avail them at such a
time, and he assisted the ex-cook to the best of his ability, the old
woman mingling her groans with appeals for the others to let her “die
in peace.”
Meanwhile Gertie had succeeded in convincing the cat that this was no
time for a romp, and she allowed herself to be caught just as Chloe’s
unceremonious removal was begun. Thus the girl could aid her companions
in their difficult task, and the old woman was dragged to the water’s
edge almost as quickly as if she had gone of her own free will.
“Throw her right on board!” Jake shouted as he struggled to raise the
burden to a standing posture, and she cried frantically:
“Lef’ me be! Please lef’ me ’lone, Massa Jake, kase I’se willin’ to
step out quick.”
“You two hold the boat so it can’t swing around, and I’ll help her
over the side,” Gertie said as she put the kitten in the cock-pit, and
three minutes later Chloe was cowering in the cuddy wiping the sand and
perspiration from her face.
“Run up the jib and mainsail while I shove off!” Jake shouted, and in
a wonderfully short space of time the little craft was so far from the
shore that the influence of a strong breeze could be felt.
It was, indeed, time for the fugitives to start. The new-comer, which
had caused such a sudden change of base, was hardly more than half a
mile away, coming toward the key with a good-sized “bone in her teeth,”
and in the bow could be distinctly seen the form of Dr. Harlan, who
turned now and then to his crew as if urging them to greater speed.
“You can yell yourself hoarse, old whiskers, without changin’ matters,”
Jake said, between his teeth, as he exerted all his strength on the
oar, which he was using as a pole. “That boat is doin’ the best she can
now, an’ swearin’ won’t do a bit of good.”
Ben did not trouble himself about hoisting the canvas smooth and trim;
it was sufficient for him that the sails were up far enough to draw,
and when this was done he went aft to assist Jake.
Thanks to their activity the little schooner was running well before
the wind in two or three minutes from the time old Chloe stepped
aboard, and then it was possible to devote some attention to trimming
her in the best condition for sailing.
Jake sat at the helm while Ben swung down on the halliards, carried
the sheets free and clear, and stowed neatly away the goods so hastily
thrown aboard until the weight was evenly divided, when he had an
opportunity of watching their pursuers.
Owing to the delay of getting under way the doctor’s boat was now
almost within hailing distance, and her crew could be plainly
distinguished. There were three men on board in addition to the quack,
and it was only reasonable to suppose they were much better acquainted
with the channel than Jake.
“They’re sailin’ her for all she’s worth,” the ex-cook said, glancing
back for an instant, and then turning again to watch his own boat that
no advantage might be lost. “I reckon he’s promised to pay ’em well if
we’re caught, an’ they’ll do their best.”
“Do you think she can sail faster than our craft?” Ben asked nervously.
“That’s hard to tell yet awhile; but we shall find out soon enough.
What I’m afraid of is that we’ll plump on to some shoal, for they’re
thicker ’round here than June flies in a molasses jug, an’ I’m goin’ to
work into clearer water till we can bear straight for Cape Sable.”
“Do you want to land there?”
“Not a bit of it; but we can then work up shore, pervidin’ we hold our
own, an’ perhaps get a chance to double back on ’em. Key West is the
place we must fetch before landin’, an’ to make things anyways even we
oughter be there at least an hour ahead of that quack.”
“I’m afraid it can’t be done,” Ben replied in a low whisper lest the
words should be overheard by those in the cuddy. “They’ll manage to
hold their own if nothin’ more.”
“Then we’ll give ’em a mighty lively sail of it. We’ve most likely got
more provisions aboard than they have, an’ unless we carry away the
spars there’s nothin’ to prevent our cruisin’ around for a week. Take
the tiller while I fill my pipe, an’ then we can run comfortable like.”
Both pursuer and pursued were well to the north and westward of the
keys by this time, each moment getting into clearer water, where
there was every opportunity for a long race. So far as could be told
the sailing qualities of the two boats were about equal, and if the
fugitives should get into the open gulf the doctor might find it
necessary to put into some port for provisions and water.
On finding that they were not captured immediately, old Chloe recovered
somewhat from the frenzy of fear which had rendered her so incapable of
everything save the power of making a noise, and with Gertie’s aid set
about putting the cabin to rights.
“I’se reckonin’ Massa Jake’s gwine ter run away frum dat low-down,
cheap doctor, an’ we’se boun’ ter fix up here honey, so’s we kin toddle
roun’ widout splashin’ all ober dis h’yar lot ob stuff.”
Anything was preferable to remaining idle, speculating as to whether
Dr. Harlan would overtake them, and Gertie worked industriously until
the interior of the cuddy presented quite a habitable appearance. Then
old Chloe began to prepare the breakfast, which had been put on board
in a half-cooked condition, and at the end of two hours she dished out
a palatable portion for each one, with plenty of cold tea to wash it
down.
“There’s no reason why you two shouldn’t come out into the cockpit,”
Jake said when Gertie pushed the food from the cabin as she tried to
keep herself hidden from view. “Your step-father knows you are here,
for he was near enough to see all hands of us when we started, an’
it’ll be more comfortable to move around.”
It seemed to Gertie much as if she was increasing the chances of
capture by showing herself, but the desire to be in the open air was
so great that after a little hesitation she acted upon the ex-cook’s
advice, and all hands breakfasted in the cockpit after a very jolly
fashion, even though an enemy was in close pursuit.
Upon gaining the open water Jake’s greatest fear was that the wind
would die away until the doctor could overtake them by using oars, in
which work he and Ben would have been decidedly at a disadvantage, but
happily this did not occur. That which had been only a summer breeze
at sunrise continued to grow stronger at noon, when there was quite as
much as either craft could stand up under; and dashing the tiny waves
into clouds of spray on either bow the two sped on until the low,
palmetto-covered shores of Cape Sable drew close on the starboard hand.
So far the race had resulted in favor of the fugitives. At the start
they had not been more than a quarter of a mile in advance, while now
Dr. Harlan’s boat was so far astern that it was no longer possible to
distinguish the features of her occupants.
“Before the wind we’ve got the best of ’em,” Jake said with a smile of
satisfaction, “an’ now we’ll see what can be done runnin’ free.”
“Why not keep on this way a while longer?” Ben asked, unwilling to give
an advantage for an uncertainty.
“Because they’ll soon have us so near the land that we can’t crawl off,
an’ if we’re obliged to go ashore the jig is up, for they could easily
catch us.”
After this statement of the case no further protest was made, and the
little craft was brought around until the wind came over the port
quarter, the pursuing boat adopting the same tactics at once, which
still kept her to seaward.
“They’re figgerin’ to stop us from sneakin’ out side,” Jake said as he
watched the maneuvers of the enemy, “an’ perhaps they’ll succeed; but I
doubt it.”
On this point of sailing neither boat had the advantage, and during the
remainder of the afternoon the relative positions remained unchanged,
one skirting the shore at a distance of from six to seven miles, while
the other hung to her quarter doggedly.
The anxiety of the pursued prevented them from feeling that
exhilaration which is produced by rapid sailing, otherwise the day
would have been most enjoyable. Chloe served dinner and supper in the
cockpit, and although the food was cold, all did it full justice. At
nightfall Jake begun to edge further away from the shore, increasing
the distance slowly but surely, until when the mantle of night shut
down over the leaping waters he had an offing of at least ten miles.
The wind had a sensible weight of dampness in it as the darkness
increased, and when the gloom hid from view all traces of the pursuers,
Jake said, as he pulled his coat more closely around him:
“Now, Gertie, you, Chloe an’ the cat had better turn in. Ben an’ I
won’t be likely to have a watch below till after sunrise; but that’s
no reason why the rest of the crowd should stay on deck. It’s gettin’
kinder dusty here an’ you’ll be wet through if you don’t crawl into
the cuddy mighty lively.”
Nothing could be seen by remaining in the cockpit save the milky-white
crests of the waves, and Chloe’s teeth were actually chattering with
the cold, therefore Gertie, after giving one last look in the direction
where the pursuers were supposed to be, went into the tiny cabin, Ben
shutting the companion-way behind her.
“We’re likely to get more wind instead of less,” he said as he returned
to Jake’s side, “an’ the question is how much sail can we carry?”
“She’ll stand this an’ considerable more. If it can’t be helped we’ll
reef her down; but just now we want to show our best gait, for I’m
goin’ to put about in a few minutes an’ point straight toward Key West.”
“If the doctor should do the same thing he’d get there ahead of us.”
“That’s a fact, an’ it’s a risk we’ve got to take. It stands us in hand
to be ready for lively work when day breaks; but jest now we’ve got
nothin’ to do but set still, for we sha’n’t be near the keys until a
good while after sunrise.”
During the next half-hour the little craft continued on up the gulf,
drawing the wind more and more astern until Jake said suddenly:
“Go for’red an’ ’tend to the jib-sheets. I ain’t sure that she’ll come
about so very smartly, an’ we don’t want to waste any time.”
As a matter of fact the boat did not move as quickly as could have been
desired by those who were so eager to gain distance and moments; but
she was finally heading down the gulf with her bow pointed as nearly
direct for Key West as was possible without a compass.
“We may run slap into ’em, or we may go past without bein’ seen,” Jake
said, when Ben came aft once more, “so it stands us in hand to be ready
to make things fly if we find ourselves in a scrape.”
Then both sat silently watching for the other boat while the trim,
buoyant little craft dashed on swiftly over the waves as if fully
conscious how much depended on her speed, and from out the blackness of
night nothing was seen to cause alarm. If the pursuers kept straight
on, then they had surely given them the slip, but if they put about in
anticipation of such a maneuver it became a question of which was the
best sailer.
CHAPTER XXIV.
JAKE’S STORY.
It was by no means a pleasant task sitting in the small cockpit
surrounded by the darkness as the little craft dashed on over the
foam-capped billows at imminent danger of being run down by a steamer
or sailing-vessel. To display lights would lessen the risk of such a
disaster very materially; but at the same time any signals would serve
to show their pursuers the proper direction.
“We’ve got to take our chances of havin’ some lumberin’ old hooker
stick her nose straight through us,” Jake said in a matter of fact
tone, when Ben spoke of the possible danger; “but I reckon we stand
more sight to sneak along all right this way, than if we hung out a
sign for that blessed doctor to follow.”
Ben remained silent for a time listening to the rushing, shrieking
wind and the sobbing of the waves, until it seemed as if the sound of
a human voice was absolutely necessary. Then he said with an evident
attempt at cheerfulness:
“It ain’t very nice sailing in such a small craft, but it might be
worse.”
“That’s jest where you’re right, lad,” and Jake spoke very
emphatically. “I’ve knocked about in the night on what would make this
boat seem like a big ocean steamer, to compare the two, an’ it was that
as first started me off to sea agin my own will.”
“Tell me about it, Jake. Things won’t be so lonesome, nor the night as
long if you are talkin’.”
“I reckon you’re right, lad. Leastways it’ll show you how snug we’re
fixed alongside of what I was one night.”
Then, as the necessary preparation for story-telling, Jake gave up the
tiller to Ben while he lighted his pipe, and when a coal of fire glowed
bright and cheery in the bowl he resumed his duty as helmsman, as he
began:
“Captain Irwin an’ me were raised by the side of a river, an’ I s’pose
that’s how he took so naturally to the water. In the summer we used to
knock about in any kind of a tub we could borrer, and winters, when the
ice covered it for fifteen or twenty miles, the skatin’ matches us boys
had would make your eyes stick out.
“The night I’m tellin’ about was in the spring, more years ago than I
care to count. The weather held warm for three or four days; but nobody
thought the ice had grown weaker, and a crowd of us boys started just
after sun down to kinder wind up the skatin’ season. The wind had been
blowin’ hard all day; but that didn’t hinder, ’cause by usin’ our coats
as sails we could scoot ’round mighty lively.
“There was about twenty in the crowd; but somehow Tommy Deacon an’
me got separated from the rest, an’ before we knowed much about our
bearin’s the bay was dead ahead with the waves churnin’ up agin the ice
pretty lively.
“I was for turnin’ back, but Tommy allowed that we’d keep on five
minutes longer, an’ fearin’ he might say I was afraid, fool-like, I
agreed.
“‘We’ll take a big circle round, an’ then go back,’ he said, an’ the
words wasn’t more’n out of his mouth before it seemed as if the ice was
lifted right up in the air while we pitched over on our noses.
“When I struck I went straight through into the water with the big
cakes on top, an’ by the time I knew what had happened I was scramblin’
about among the ice tryin’ to get my nose out for a breath of air.
“Somehow, more by good luck than wit, I got hold of a thick piece of
ice, an’ don’t think I didn’t kick mighty lively till I was on top of
it. The sea was runnin’ so high that I couldn’t a’ stood up even if
the cake had been big enough, which it wasn’t, an’ there I staid on my
hands an’ knees doin’ some mighty lively thinkin’ about the folks at
home; but poor Tommy never come into my mind till I heard a yell close
alongside.
“It was him of course, an’ after considerable hard work he crawled up,
while the ice went sailin’ out to sea, an’ our clothes frozen so hard
that they seemed more like boards than cloth. Cold? Well, you can’t
have any idea what the wind felt like. There wasn’t any chance to
move around, so we had to lay an’ take it, seein’ the lights on shore
growin’ dimmer an’ dimmer till they faded out entirely, an’ we was
alone on the ocean with our craft of ice bein’ chewed up mighty fast by
the waves.
“For as much as an hour Tommy kept groanin’ an’ fussin’; but all at
once he stopped, an’ I knew the cruise was pretty nigh ended for him.
I talked, an’ scolded; but he never said a word, only kept rubbin’ his
fingers up an’ down my arm till it made me feel creepy like. Then I
managed to get over on my side so’s I could chafe his face an’ hands,
an’ while I was doin’ it he kinder stiffened out an’ laid like a log. I
tell you, Ben, four weeks on a craft like this wouldn’t be nothin’ to
one minute on that cake of ice with a dead chum alongside.
“It was the horror that kept me alive, I reckon, for it didn’t seem as
if the cold could have any effect just then. After that I don’t know
whether I lost my senses, or if a kind of sleepy feelin’ came over me;
but I didn’t know much of anything till I felt somebody pullin’ an’
haulin’ to tear my clothes off the ice where they had been frozen on.
It was a boat’s crew from a ship which was hove-to about a mile off,
an’ we was well out to sea. They took me aboard, an’ in a couple of
days I was as chipper as ever; but whenever I’m out in the night like
this every little portion of that cruise comes back to my mind.”
“Did they carry you right home?” Ben asked, forgetting in the interest
caused by Jake’s story the possible danger which menaced Gertie.
“Not a bit they didn’t. The ship--she was the Golden Age--had jest left
port for the west coast of Africa, an’ I had to go along whether I
wanted to or not.”
“It must have been two or three years before you saw your mother again.”
“It was more than six when I turned up at home, lad, an’ then she was
dead.”
“Why did you stay away so long?”
“Mostly ’cause I couldn’t help myself, an’ here’s another yarn if you
want to hear it. Take the tiller while I fill my pipe once more, an’
I’ll finish the spinnin’.”
The wind did not sound so desolate, nor the swish of the water so
mournful as Ben sat by the helm thinking of the ex-cook’s story, and
it seemed as if the boat had suddenly increased in size because of
comparison with the cake of ice on which one boy had died and another
drifted all night over tempest-tossed waters.
“This was the way of it,” Jake said, as he resumed his seat at the
helm, and Ben crouched behind the weather rail.
“We had a long run, for the Golden Age was an old tub, and got short
of water--vessels in them days was mostly always short of something.
So we had put in at a little island to fill the casks. I was one of
the boat’s crew, though I was a mite of a shaver, an’ when we lowered
away the captain shoved in a couple of muskets an’ some ammunition. We
hadn’t seen anybody on shore, but in them days there wasn’t as much
known about foreign parts as now.
“I couldn’t do a great deal toward fillin’ the casks, an’ when the
crew found a spring not far from the beach, I loitered out through
the woods, lookin’ at the parrots an’ other gay-colored birds, an’
travelin’ over what seemed to be an old path. It didn’t appear to me
that I was a cable’s length from the boat, when with a sudden crash
everything turned blank, an’ by the time I knew anything more there was
half a dozen natives around me grinnin’ like so many monkeys.
“They must have carried me quite a ways, for we were near a lot of
huts, an’ I was trussed up like a chicken ready for roastin’. A short
bit off was a whole crowd of nigger-lookin’ men an’ wimmen, an’ I says
to myself, ‘your last day has come, my lad.’ But it hadn’t, of course,
or I wouldn’t be here a smokin’ of this ’ere pipe. Pretty soon I saw
the crowd bringing up the muskets, oars and a lot of truck which I
knew belonged to the crew, so there was no question but that the whole
boatload had been killed, which made me think I was saved only to be
made into a stew.
“I had an ugly cut on my head from which the blood flowed in a
decent-sized stream, an’ the pain was so great that I didn’t care very
much what was done providin’ I was put out of my misery; but bless you,
they hadn’t any idea of such a thing. I laid there two days, the old
women shovin’ food enough into my mouth from time to time to keep five
men alive, an’ when the tribe got through celebratin’ the victory, I
was as whole as ever.
“Then I learned why I hadn’t been killed. They wanted me as a slave,
an’ for nigh onto three years I was everybody’s pack-horse. If anything
was to be carried Jake had to do it; if fish were wanted Jake caught
them, an’ between you an’ me, Ben, I did pretty much the whole work for
that lazy lot of niggers until life was a burden.
“How I stood it nobody knows; but I did, an’ grew fat into the bargain.
Then one day while I was fishin’ a whaler put in for water, an’ perhaps
I didn’t take to my heels. Forty thousand niggers couldn’t have stopped
me then, an’ to make a long story short, I got on board. Oh, how good
Christian vittles tasted! Talk about the pleasure of hearin’ people
talk! why that captain’s swearin’ sounded like music for the next week.
“It was hard lines on board the Betsy, however, as I s’pose it is
anywhere in this world, but I was young an’ tough. I stuck by the ship
’cause I was afraid to run away agin, an’ in course of time we landed
at New Bedford, which was the end of my cruise for four weeks. Then I
saw Captain Irwin, all my friends were dead or had moved away, an’ I
shipped with him. Since that day I’ve follered him like a shadder till
we saw that blessed turtle, an’ the rest you know.”
“So goin’ to sea wasn’t your fault?” Ben said after a long pause.
“Indeed it wasn’t, or I might a’ been cured of it years ago; but
what’s done an’ gone can’t be helped now, an’ I’m lookin’ ahead for the
time when we’ll all be settled on shore in the house Captain Jack tells
about.”
Then Jake relapsed into silence, and from that time until sunrise but
little conversation was indulged in by the two who were making such
strenuous efforts to escape from Dr. Harlan.
Once during the night Ben went into the cuddy for food, not because
either he or Jake were hungry, but in order that by eating they might
be more wakeful, and with the first grey light of dawn both were
eagerly scanning the surrounding waters.
Far away to the southward could be seen the chain of keys; but when the
golden rays of the sun dispelled the clouds of vapor not another sail
was in view on that vast, beautiful expanse, and Jake cried joyously:
“So far we’re all right, lad, an’ now it’s our business to get up to
that lawyer’s house in Key West before the quack knows where we are.”
CHAPTER XXV.
A PLACE OF SAFETY.
The glad sunlight, the leaping, dancing wind and the sparkling water on
which was no sail to cause him fear, all served to make Ben feel happy,
and he shouted through the companion-way:
“Come! Turn out! It’s mornin’, an’ the doctor’s craft must be pretty
near Cedar Keys by this time. What are you goin’ to give us for
breakfast, aunty?”
There was no reply for a moment; but the sound of some heavy body
could be heard moving around in the cuddy, and then a fat, black face
appeared above the hatch as its owner asked anxiously:
“Hab you done gone run ’way from dat low-down white man?”
“It looks like it, aunty,” Jake replied triumphantly. “There’s Key
West dead ahead, an’ as his craft can’t sail so very much faster than
this, I reckon we’ve given him the slip about as neat as Captain Irwin
himself could a’ done it.”
“Is dat de truf, honey?” she asked, and when Ben nodded his head she
exclaimed with a deep sigh of relief, resting her wrinkled chin on her
hands as if the better to draw in long draughts of the invigorating
morning air: “I ’clar to goodness, I ain’t had a good chance to breave
till now. I’se nebber gwine ter poke fun onto Massa Jake any mo’ ef
he’s done gone run ’way from dat wuffless trash.”
“It looks very much as if we had done it, aunty,” Ben said gleefully,
“an’ in three or four hours we’ll be at Key West.”
“Wha’ you’se gwine dere fur? Why don’ you sail back to our island? De
doctor’s suah to come to Key West, an’ den what’ll be done?”
“If we get there an hour before he arrives we can put you an’ her under
the lawyer’s care, where you’ll be safe till the matter is settled in
court. It’ll be all right, ’cause he told Jake to have Gertie at his
office not later than Tuesday.”
“But dis yere’s Sunday mornin’, an’ how’se you gwine to fin’ him, when
mos’ likely he’s in de meeting whar ebery Chris’ian oughter be?”
For a moment Ben was at a loss to know what reply to make. He had
entirely forgotten that this new day was the Sabbath, and had counted
on finding the attorney at his office.
“We’ll fix that all right,” Jake said with the air of one who is not to
be deterred by such trifling difficulties. “Key West ain’t sich a large
city but what we can soon find out where a man lives, an’ it’ll be all
the better for us if we have to go right to his house.”
This reply evidently satisfied Chloe, for her head was immediately
withdrawn from the hatchway, and a few moments later both she and
Gertie came on deck for such a toilet as could be made with salt water,
no soap, and a piece of cotton cloth as a towel.
The wind died away very perceptibly as the day advanced. By the time
breakfast had been spread in the cockpit, it was nothing more than
a fairly good sailing breeze; but this did not trouble Jake in the
slightest, for if he was delayed the other craft would be also, and it
was a matter of little moment whether they arrived in the forenoon or
late at night.
“Unless the wind gives out entirely we’ll be there about noon,” he said
cheerfully, as he ate the potted meat and dry hard-tack while holding
the tiller, “an’ that will suit us exactly.”
In this he was more nearly correct than he himself had fancied. It was
just twelve o’clock when the little craft glided lazily through the
northwest channel into the harbor, where nothing could be seen of the
boat the fugitives were so anxious to avoid, and preparations were made
for a hurried landing.
“One of us will go ashore with Gertie, find a carriage if possible,
and hunt for the lawyer’s house, while the other stays here with Chloe
until we know what’s to be done,” Jake said as the boat approached the
dock.
“You’d better do that part instead of me, ’cause you’ve met him once,
an’ I might stand right alongside of him without knowin’ who he was,”
Ben replied, not waiting to consult Gertie’s wishes in the matter,
and the ex-cook made ready to go on shore by smoothing down the hair
over his forehead, and otherwise trying to make himself presentable
according to his own ideas on the subject.
No time was wasted after the little craft was at the dock. The
possibility that the quack doctor might arrive at any moment caused
Jake to make all haste, and the instant one of the hawsers was made
fast he leaped ashore with Gertie in his arms, running up the street as
if fancying the enemy was in pursuit.
“He’s all right so far,” Ben said after watching until the ex-cook was
out of sight, and then entering the cuddy where Chloe sat nursing the
kitten as some slight consolation for the temporary loss of the child
she loved so well. “There ain’t much chance he’ll meet the doctor, an’
we can count on bein’ back to the captain’s house again pretty soon.”
“I’se gwine whar my chile is,” Chloe said stiffly, as if fearing Ben
might propose that she be separated from Gertie during a certain length
of time. “Dere’s no reason why she shouldn’t go on ahead; but I mus’
foller her jes’ as soon as dat wuffless Jake done gone foun’ de lawyer
man.”
“Of course you will,” Ben replied so heartily that any suspicions Chloe
may have had as to the possibility of not seeing Gertie again at the
earliest practicable moment were immediately dispelled. “He can’t be
away more than an hour, an’ then you shall take the cat and start.”
“Wha’s you and Massa Jake gwine?” the old woman asked.
“We’ll stay on board here till to-morrow, I guess, an’ then hunt up the
captain.”
“Den I’se gwine ter fix yer something to eat.”
“Don’t do it, aunty,” and Ben spoke quickly to prevent her from
carrying the plan into immediate execution. “We’ve had all the cold
stuff we want, an’ when it’s dinner-time we’ll eat on shore where we
can get a hot meal.”
After that Chloe made no effort to prolong the conversation. That she
was uneasy regarding Gertie’s welfare could be plainly told from her
face, and she remained on one of the lockers in anxious expectancy
until the ex-cook’s return, nearly an hour later.
“Well, I found my man!” he exclaimed triumphantly as he leaped on board
the little boat with a jar that caused her to tremble from stem to
stern. “We got a hack at the head of the dock, an’ the driver knew all
about the lawyer. He says she’ll be safe with him, an’ Chloe’s to go up
there as soon as she can git ready.”
“An’ dat’s jes now, Massa Jake,” the old woman said as she gave an
extra twist to the bandana turban on her head. “I’se only been waitin’
fur de word, an’ don’ wanter spend any time foolin’. I’ll take de cat
wid me, an’ den de family’ll be mostly togedder.”
Jake was not eager to set out at once, and would have waited to gossip
about what he saw and heard while on shore; but Chloe was impatient to
be with “her chile” once more, and Ben said:
“Go with her now, and that part of the work will be settled. When you
get back we shall have a chance to talk while we’re eating dinner.”
Then the ex-cook went on shore the second time and Ben was left alone
for half an hour, at the expiration of which the two set out in search
of the long-deferred meal.
In one of the Cuban cafés, with its cages of singing birds, Pride of
India trees and multiplicity of parrots, the two ordered an elaborate
dinner, during the progress of which Jake repeated over and over again,
amid his criticism of the cooking, that which he had learned from the
lawyer.
As near as Ben could ascertain he had simply been assured that there
was no chance that Dr. Harlan could work her any harm now that his
character was so well known by the judge before whom the case had been
presented; but he told this so many times that it seemed as if he had a
great amount of news to impart.
“I tell you, lad, that man lives in swell style, an’ I reckon she
won’t hanker after anything she can’t get while he has charge of her.”
“And there’s no chance the doctor can steal her away?”
“Not a bit. Why, I had mighty hard work to get inter the house till I
explained all the whys an’ wherefores of my comin’ to a big nigger, an’
I tell you, my boy, she’s as snug as a bug in a rug.”
“That will be more than we can say for ourselves if the doctor sails
into the harbor before dark,” Ben replied with a laugh, and then after
paying a moderate price for a highly satisfactory meal, the two walked
leisurely down to the dock.
Once on board their own craft but little attention was paid to anything
in the vicinity. Now that Gertie was in a place of safety there was
nothing to fear, and for the time at least, Dr. Harlan had not so much
as a place in their thoughts. It was as if the anxiety of the previous
day and night had been so great that all fear of him fled with the
departure of his step-daughter.
In his mind, however, they probably occupied quite a conspicuous place,
for he arrived in port about a half an hour after Jake and Ben had gone
on board to think over their very satisfactory dinner, and both were
more surprised than pleased at hearing him hail them from the dock.
“I want to know where my daughter is?” he asked angrily when Jake
showed his good-natured face above the companion-way.
“Your daughter?” the ex-cook repeated, as if he was hearing of such a
person for the first time, and Ben crouched close behind him, believing
they were about to have a very disagreeable interview.
“Yes, my daughter, for the law recognizes her as such!” the man
screamed, his face absolutely livid with passion. “She was on board
this boat last night, and I insist on knowing where she is now.”
“Then you’ll have to go up town to find out,” Jake replied with an
exasperating drawl, “for she isn’t here.”
“I’ll come on board and see,” the man cried, leaping on the deck as he
spoke, and Ben, thinking the time had come when Jake needed assistance,
stepped out into the cockpit.
“Don’t get into a fret,” the ex-cook said in a tone calculated to
excite rather than calm the visitor’s anger. “If it’ll do you any good,
an’ you ask it as a favor, we’ll let you go below. But dare to put on
any high an’ mighty airs, an’ overboard you go, for this is our craft
so long as we choose to hire her.”
For one single instant it seemed as if the quack was about to rush upon
Jake with an intent to do him bodily injury, and Ben seized the tiller
in anticipation of a fight; but the visitor, understanding that he
might get worsted in an encounter, stepped back a few paces as he said
threateningly:
“Remember that I have certain rights in law which are not to be trifled
with. I demand to know if my step-daughter is here?”
“An’ I told you she wasn’t. If you come on board here it is at your own
peril, an’ unless I’m way off my reckonin’, the law gives us the right
to throw you overboard if we choose.”
“Let him look into the cabin if he wants to, Jake,” Ben cried, “and
then it will be best for him to get ashore as quickly as he can.”
“The boy is skipper now, so you can take a peep at our saloon,” Jake
said with a mocking bow, and it was not necessary for the doctor to
make any very lengthy examination. A single glance was sufficient to
show that the tiny cabin had no occupants, and he cried in a shrill
tone as he shook his fist in the ex-cook’s face:
“You shall answer for this before another day has passed, and I will
have you arrested for abducting my daughter.”
“Do as you please to-morrow, but just now you’ll get ashore mighty
lively, or I’ll give you a chance to swim.”
There was no mistaking the fact that the former cook of the Sea Queen
was very angry, and Dr. Harlan understood that it was not safe to stay
on board any longer. In a very undignified manner he clambered onto
the pier, and once in a place of safety gave vent to his rage in a
multiplicity of angry words and gesticulations expressive of what he
would do in the way of revenge when the proper time arrived.
“Will we go ashore an’ knock his two eyes into one?” Jake asked while
the man was dancing about in grotesque rage on the string-piece of the
pier.
“No, let him alone, but if he attempts to come on board again it will
be at his own risk,” Ben replied, swinging the tiller around in a
savage way, while the doctor, evidently believing it would be of no use
to prolong what was a profitless conversation, jumped into a small boat
that had been moored near the head of the dock and rowed to his own
craft a short distance away.
“What’ll we do now?” Ben asked when the quack disappeared over the side
of the boat.
“Go to sleep, of course,” Jake replied calmly. “He won’t come back,
for he knows Gertie isn’t here, and we’ve got to make up for last
night’s wakefulness.”
It was good advice. Without fear of another visit from the irate man
they went into the cuddy to get the rest both so sadly needed, and
neither awakened to consciousness until the next morning, when Captain
Irwin had shouted half a dozen times from the string-piece of the dock:
“Sleeping late, ain’t you?” he asked as Ben’s head appeared through the
companion-way, and before any reply could be made he was on board ready
to hear the story of their adventures during the past few days.
It was some time before a detailed account had been given, and then the
captain said:
“Well, I reckon the child’s troubles are nearly over. It is probable
that the court will appoint me her guardian, and then we can go back to
our cottage, for between all three of us I don’t fancy the doctor will
be able to steal her away. The matter of the salvage on the Mermaid’s
cargo is progressing finely, and we can count on being ready to leave
here in a month at the longest.”
Neither Jake nor Ben had much interest in anything except Gertie’s
welfare just at that moment, and neither was sufficiently curious
regarding the goods of the wrecked vessel to ask the probable amount
which might be awarded them.
Acting upon Captain Irwin’s suggestion the boat which had served them
so well was delivered up to her owners, the amount due for her use was
paid, and the remains of their outfit, now a very limited collection,
was carried to the hired cottage.
“I reckon I’ll snug the kitchen up a bit,” Jake said, as if delighted
because of the opportunity, and determined to make the most of it
during Chloe’s absence. “How long do you allow it’ll be before the
court tells Gertie whether the quack’s her father or not?”
“The attorney himself couldn’t answer that question. We’ve got to wait
for the law to take its course, and there’s no use trying to hurry
matters,” the captain replied as he left the house to visit the lawyer.
“If they’d let me at that judge about ten minutes I’d soon show him
how the thing oughter be fixed,” and Jake leaned on the broom in deep
reflection for several seconds, as if trying to decide whether he
should make an effort at once to convince the court of its duty. “You
see lawyers allers fool ’round a good while so’s to make more wages.”
“Since Captain Irwin can’t hurry ’em up, I don’t believe you’d be able
to do much at it,” Ben said, and Jake replied in a very decided tone:
“I ain’t so sure of that, lad. Could he a’ sneaked away from the quack
any neater than I did? When I take hold of a job it’s allers done up
pretty slick; but I s’pose the captain thinks he can sling more style
than me, an’ I’m willin’ to say that that’s what counts sometimes.”
Then Jake resumed his sweeping, Ben set about building the fire, and
during the next half-hour but little conversation was indulged in, for
both were thinking how lonely it seemed without Gertie.
When night came the legal question had not been settled, greatly to the
disappointment of those who were so deeply interested, and a second and
a third day passed in the same unsatisfactory manner. Gertie, Chloe and
the cat remained at the attorney’s home, while Ben and Jake wandered
around the cottage disconsolately, trying in vain to curb their
impatience, and at times even going so far as to threaten to take the
law in their own hands by carrying away the child once more.
On the second day Captain Irwin reported that Dr. Harlan had been
around the city breathing threats of the most dire vengeance against
those who had so successfully eluded him.
“Barkin’ dogs don’t often bite,” Jake said when the captain related
this bit of news, “an’ I reckon Ben an’ me will live jest as long as if
he’d gone down with the Sea Queen as he oughter done.”
“In a legal way he is powerless,” the captain said musingly, “but it
isn’t well to feel too safe, for he is an unscrupulous man, and in this
city it is not difficult to hire another to make an attack. I think you
and Ben had better keep pretty snug till the matter is settled.”
“I’m willin’ to do that so far as stayin’ in the house is concerned,”
the ex-cook replied in a dissatisfied tone, “but I don’t like to let
him think we’re afraid.”
“Never mind what he thinks, so that no more trouble comes to us,”
the captain said, and then he walked away as if to show that the
conversation was ended.
Jake and Ben had no real desire to stroll around the city, save as it
might be to show Dr. Harlan that they had no fear; but the captain’s
suggestion was virtually a command, and both remained at home, the
former spending the greater portion of his time grumbling at the slow
course of justice in Key West.
Thursday was a day of rejoicing at the cottage, for about eleven
o’clock in the forenoon, when the ex-cook and his companion had begun
to despair of ever seeing Gertie again, she and Chloe walked into the
house, the latter carrying the kitten whose neck was decorated with a
remarkably large bow of blue ribbon.
“We’se done gone fixed eberyting,” Chloe said as she sunk panting and
breathless into a chair, which creaked and groaned under her weight.
“De captin am her pappy now, an’ de doctor man’s gwine down to Mexico
all by hisself.”
“Is it really settled at last?” Ben cried as Jake took the child in his
arms to show his joy at her return.
“Indeed it is. Captain Irwin told us to come here, for the judge has
appointed him my guardian, and Dr. Harlan is going away this afternoon
in the steamer. Chloe and I have had a perfectly splendid time at the
lawyer’s house, but we’re awfully glad to get back with you and Ben.”
“It’s mighty lucky you come jest as you did,” the ex-cook said sternly.
“If they’d fooled round another day tryin’ to settle a case that was as
plain as the nose on a man’s face, me an’ Ben would a’ straightened the
thing up by gettin’ another boat an’ carryin’ you so far off that all
the judges in Key West couldn’t a’ found us.”
“Dere’s gwine ter be no mo’ gallivantin’ in dem aig-shells,” Chloe
added quickly. “I tole de captin I’se done got frou wid sich nonsense,
an’ he declared he’d put his foot right down on fool work like dat. But
what hab you an’ dat wuffless Jake bin up to now?” she asked, surveying
the room, while a look of distress came over her black face. “It seems
like de pigs had bin rootin’ roun’, ’stead ob a place fur ’spectable
folks.”
Then Chloe arose slowly with many a groan and gasp, and five minutes
later she was raising so much dust in her efforts to set the house to
rights that Jake and Ben were literally driven out of doors.
CHAPTER XXVI.
AN UNDISPUTED DEPARTURE.
When Ben and Jake were in the yard, and old Chloe was making
preparations for a regular siege of house-cleaning, while the dust was
coming from the open windows like little clouds of smoke, the cook said
mournfully:
“It seems like we didn’t have a chance to feel glad ’cause they’d got
back. It’s a puzzler to me why a woman thinks she must have a broom in
her hand all the time. I couldn’t see any dirt to speak of, an’ yet
Chloe an’ Gertie will find it everywhere, I s’pose.”
“Which goes to prove that we’re mighty poor housekeepers,” Ben replied
with a hearty laugh, for the look of dejection on Jake’s face was
comical in the extreme.
“I ain’t willin’ to give in to that, lad. If there’s dirt hid away in
the room where nobody can see it, what merit is it to drag every grain
out?”
“Or what good does it do for us to try and prove that our plan of
keepin’ house is the best, so long as old Chloe believes to the
contrary? It’ll be two or three hours before she gets things so far to
rights that it’ll be comfortable inside, and are we going to stand out
here all this time?”
“I dunno,” the cook replied meekly. “Where do you think we’d better go?”
“Let’s see the last of Dr. Harlan in Key West. Gertie said he was to
leave this afternoon, so he must be intending to take the Mexican
steamer.”
“I ain’t over an’ above anxious to look at his ugly face agin,” Jake
said in a tone of indecision. “We’ve had about enough of him to last
the remainder of our natural lives.”
“But we can make sure he has really gone. I sha’n’t be positive but
that he is sneakin’ ’round to get hold of Gertie unless I see him on
board the steamer.”
“There’s a good deal of truth in that, my boy, an’ we’ll have the
matter settled. Come on, the steamer sails in less than an hour, an’ we
haven’t got any time to lose.”
During the walk to the dock Jake discussed the possibility of Dr.
Harlan’s remaining on the island for the purpose of trying to get
Gertie in his power regardless of the court’s decree, and he spoke of
what “might be” so strongly that Ben begun to look upon the arguments
as facts. By the time they arrived at the pier he was in a very
uncomfortable frame of mind, and the prospects of peace, which had been
so bright an hour previous, were decidedly dull.
“I don’t see nothin’ of him,” Jake said, indulging once more in his
former habit of finding pleasure in being miserable. “He’s most likely
up to the hotel waitin’ till it’s safe to come snoopin’ ’round our
house agin.”
Ben searched eagerly from one end of the pier to the other, even going
on board the steamer; but the quack was not there, and just when he
had become fully convinced Jake was correct in his surmise, Gertie’s
step-father appeared in view.
That he intended to leave the island there could now be no doubt,
and it was equally certain he had made preparations for continuing
his trade in nostrums. He had two large trunks and a number of small
bundles loaded on a dray, while he led the short procession with the
air of one who feels positive of victory in his own special line of
business.
“He’s been makin’ more stuff to sell,” Jake said in a hoarse whisper,
“an’ I reckon he calculates on pullin’ teeth for every greaser in
Mexico; but he couldn’t do very much in that line jest now.”
As a matter of fact, the doctor was hardly in condition to attend
to patients. To drown his chagrin at being obliged to leave without
his step-daughter, or from some other cause, he had been indulging
in liquor to such an extent that his steps were far from steady. He
lurched from one side to the other at imminent risk of falling under
the wheels of the dray, and the more erratic his course, the louder
he scolded the porters for loitering, although they were moving on as
rapidly as possible while he was in advance.
The loungers were making sport of the tipsy quack in very
uncomplimentary terms; but he was oblivious to everything but his own
importance until arriving at the foot of the gang-plank, when he caught
sight of Ben.
“You little scoundrel!” he cried, lunging forward. “If it had not been
for your meddling my daughter would not be separated from her father.”
“It’s a mighty lucky thing for her that somebody meddled,” Jake said
jeeringly; but the doctor paid no attention to the remark.
Continuing on toward Ben in as nearly a direct course as his condition
would permit, he cried savagely:
“You need to be taken down a peg or two, an’ I’m going to do it. I’ll
give you such a flogging as won’t leave a whole bone in your body.”
Jake was several paces away when this threat was made; but as the
drunken man started forward he leaped toward Ben to lend his assistance
if it should be necessary.
Ben had no idea, however, of remaining where he would be caught so
easily. When the quack was within two or three paces he sprung aside
behind one of the hawser piles, and with nothing to check his headway,
Dr. Harlan lurched over the string-piece into the water.
“That’ll sober the fool off, I reckon,” Jake said calmly, as he looked
down at the struggling man who could be seen just beneath the surface.
“Let him stay there half an hour or so, and he’ll have more sense,”
some one among the crowd shouted, and to Ben it seemed as if no effort
was to be made to save him from drowning. As a matter of fact the crew
of the steamer were getting out life-lines; but he did not see them,
and without a thought of the enmity between this man and himself, he
leaped over.
The water was so clear that even the smallest objects could be seen on
the bottom, and to seize the quack’s coat was not a difficult matter.
To hold him above the surface, however, was by no means as easy. The
involuntary bath had not dispelled the fumes of liquor from the man’s
brain, and instantly Ben raised him he flung his arms around the boy’s
neck.
Unable to free himself from the grasp, it was impossible for Ben to
keep his head above water, and for some seconds it looked very much as
if both would be drowned.
Fortunately a canoe partially loaded with fish was moored near the head
of the wharf, and into this Jake leaped when Ben made the first motion
toward going overboard. It was not more than a minute that the two were
struggling beneath the surface before he was directly above them, and
by aid of lines from the steamer the rescue was soon effected.
The ex-cook pulled Ben into the canoe, but held the doctor at arm’s
length until a rope was passed under his arms, when the sailors hauled
him on board the steamer with but little ceremony.
“That settles him, an’ now we’ll go home to get you wrung out an’
dried,” Jake said, as he made the canoe fast at its old mooring place,
and helped his companion upon the pier.
“The water won’t hurt me, an’ I’m goin’ to stay right here till I’m
sure he has left the island,” Ben replied as he made his way toward the
gang-plank once more.
“But there’s no danger of the quack’s comin’ on shore agin; he’s too
drunk an’ too wet.”
“It won’t be a great while before the steamer starts, an’ I’d rather
make sure,” Ben said in such a decided tone that Jake ceased his
remonstrances.
Several of the bystanders praised the would-be rescuer, and some
offered him money; but he showed such a thorough aversion either to
listening or receiving payment that after a few moments he was left
alone with Jake.
Then came the last flurry of excitement which always attends a
departure, no matter how long it has been delayed, and as the crew
rushed to and fro in an apparently aimless fashion, while the shouting
of officers, escaping steam, or cries from those on the dock added to
the confusion, Ben kept his eyes fixed on the gang-plank until it was
hauled inboard. The hawsers were cast off, the screw begun to churn the
water into a foam, and as the steamer glided away from the pier Ben
said to Jake, with a long-drawn sigh of relief:
“He’s gone now for sure, and I hope we’ll never see him again.”
“Anybody would a’ thought he was your best friend by the way you went
overboard after him.”
“I couldn’t stand still while he was drowning, no matter how much of an
enemy he was.”
“It would a’ been better to let him had a little more of a taste. He
oughter staid on the bottom till he got black in the face, then perhaps
he’d a’ learned to behave himself.”
“And while you was waiting for his face to get black he might have
died.”
“The world would a’ got on jest as well,” Jake replied with the air of
wisdom, and then he added: “Come on now, an’ get some dry clothes. I
expect old Chloe will make things mighty lively for us when she finds
out that you’ve been overboard.”
Ben was not exactly certain how his attempt at lifesaving might be
looked upon at home, more especially when taken in connection with his
very moist condition, and he acted on the suggestion at once.
The work of house-cleaning was concluded, at least for a while, and
Chloe was in the kitchen with Gertie and the cat when the two entered.
For a moment the old woman did not notice that Ben’s clothes were wet;
but Gertie’s exclamation of surprise caused her to be aware of the
fact, and turning to Jake she asked angrily:
“Wha’ you bin doin’ to that chile? ’Pears to me like you’re allers
gittin’ trouble onto somebody.”
“You didn’t think that the night we started up the gulf to give the
quack a show of our heels. Seems to me I got you all out of trouble
that time, aunty,” and Jake seated himself near the window with a very
comical assumption of dignity.
“Where have you been?” Gertie asked, and Ben replied, as he stood first
on one foot and then the other in the vain effort to prevent the water
from running on the clean floor.
“We went down to the steamer so’s to make sure Dr. Harlan left town. He
was kinder tipsy an’ fell overboard, an’ I jumped after him.”
Old Chloe looked up in open-mouthed astonishment.
“Yes, an’ Ben come mighty near gettin’ drownded himself,” Jake added.
“Now don’ go to skeerin’ de chile out ob her senses wid yer
foolishness,” Chloe cried as Gertie’s eyes began to fill with tears,
and then she bustled around with a great show of activity, adding
to Ben: “Go right away an’ get on some dry clo’es. I s’pose it was
Christian-like to help de po’ sinful man out ob de water, but you’se
gwine to ketch yer death ob cold ef yer stan’ roun’ like dat.”
“But I haven’t any dry ones to put on, aunty. This is the only suit
I’ve got.”
“Den make dat wuffless Jake get some ob his,” the old woman said as
she literally pushed Ben out of the room, and the ex-cook followed
after winking at Gertie as if to say that he was not disturbed by any
epithets which Chloe might bestow upon him.
There was plenty of opportunity for mirth when Ben came down stairs,
owing to the peculiarity of his costume. Jake had fitted him out
with an entire suit, trousers and vest of his own, and a storm-coat
belonging to Captain Irwin. He looked, as Chloe said, “like a pea
in a quart measure,” and probably felt quite as uncomfortable as his
appearance indicated.
When Captain Irwin came home he knew all about the rescue of Dr.
Harlan, and said as he took Ben by the hand:
“I’m proud of you, my boy. First, because you would face danger to aid
one who was helpless, and again because there was no question as to
whether it was an enemy or a friend.”
Ben’s face grew rosy red as he listened to these words of praise from
one whose opinion he valued so highly, and Gertie danced around him in
very excess of joy because it was her particular friend who had proven
himself so brave.
“I think we can safely say our affairs are prospering, now that the
quack has gone,” the captain continued. “It is only a matter of time
before we can go North and look for another ship, and as for the
question of salvage, that must soon be settled in our favor.”
“Are you going to sea again?” Ben asked, as if surprised that the
captain should think of such a thing after enduring so many hardships.
“Of course, my boy. What else can old shell-backs like Jake and I do to
earn a living? We must have a home for you children, and it won’t come
without hard work.”
“We mus’ hab a home,” Chloe said, as if there was no question but that
she was a member of the family. “I’se done gone got sick ob totin’
roun’ in dis yere shiff’less way.”
“You sha’n’t do it any more after we reach New York, aunty, that I
promise,” the captain replied cheerily. “I want a snug anchorage on
shore as much as the rest of the family do, an’ we’ll have it before
long.”
“Bress de Lawd, I hope so,” old Chloe added fervently, and then she
busied herself with getting supper while Jake criticised her methods of
cooking until she threatened to drive him out of doors, after which he
remained silent until the meal was prepared.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SALVAGE.
It would have been a hard task to find a happier family, either on the
keys or the mainland, than that composed of the castaways. Since Dr.
Harlan had taken his departure there was nothing to fear, and Gertie
and Ben, with Jake acting as guard and guide, explored every portion of
that quaint little city known as Key West.
Each morning they visited the market, where provisions of all kinds are
disposed of at auction rather than by private sale, and the novelty of
such a proceeding afforded them no slight amount of amusement. At other
times, and very often, they went to the docks where the sponge-fishers,
with a fleet of boats towed behind a wide-beamed schooner, brought from
the gulf all sorts of queer-looking marine plants, shells or turtles.
The fish-wharf, crowded with smacks, canoes or tiny vessels was
another favorite resort, and Gertie was soon able to give the proper
names to the grunts, groupers, porgies, snappers, hog-fish, Jew-fish,
yellow-tails, spots, Spanish mackerel or king-fish.
At least twice each week the little party searched for shells, always
returning home with a large collection of beautiful specimens, and once
Jake hired a sponge-fisher’s outfit, which they used unsuccessfully for
about twelve hours.
During an excursion to the fish market they saw three of the
Seminole Indians from their reservation in the Everglades, and very
disappointing was the sight to Gertie. She had expected that real
Indians always wore plenty of feathers, carried a quantity of weapons,
and were fierce in the extreme; but here was Little Tiger, Big Charley
and Tommy Doctor appearing as mild as Quakers.
They wore calico shirts, buckskin leggings and moccasins, with huge,
bright-colored turbans; but with neither hatchet nor scalping-knife in
sight, and they bargained and haggled over the sale of their fish like
any peaceable native.
Ben wanted to ask them about their villages on the mainland; but Gertie
felt such a sense of injury at their very ordinary appearance that she
would not stop for an interview, and when the children left, the son of
the once dreaded Tiger Tail was disputing with a negro woman over the
price of a very small snapper.
The time of waiting for the adjudication of the salvage claim seemed
neither long nor dreary, even though it was six weeks before the matter
was settled. Old Chloe was well content to remain at home with the cat;
Captain Irwin had quite as much business on hand as could be attended
to, and the others spent nearly all the hours of daylight in the open
air.
Finally the day came when there was nothing more for which the
castaways were obliged to remain at Key West. The claim for salvage was
adjusted, and Ben was absolutely astonished at his share of the amount,
which proved to be one thousand dollars. Captain Irwin received three
thousand, while Jake and the sole survivor of the Mermaid were awarded
two thousand each.
“It was hard work,” Captain Irwin said on the night after the money
had been paid and “the family” were discussing the matter, “but we made
good wages. How much of your father’s money was spent for Gertie, Ben?”
“Almost two hundred dollars.”
“Then you’ve got eighteen hundred in all, and the three of us are
worth nearly seven thousand dollars, quite enough for a good start
in business. Now, I have a proposition to make, and if it doesn’t
suit either you or Jake, don’t hesitate to say so. There is a little
schooner called the Restless--one of the prettiest models I ever
saw--lying off the fish-wharf for sale. She has been in the New York
fruit trade; but her captain, who was also the owner, is dead, and his
heirs want to dispose of her for cash. We can close the bargain for
five thousand dollars, and she is actually worth seven. I have been
talking with the firm who chartered her during the past three years,
and they agree to give me the first call if I buy her. Now, I’ll take
three-fifths, and Jake and Ben one-fifth each, or we’ll go in as equal
partners.”
“How large is she?” the cook asked.
“One hundred and eighty tons, with the neatest little galley that ever
held a stove.”
“Then I go in for buying her,” Jake replied promptly.
“How much will one-third cost?” Ben asked.
“Sixteen hundred and sixty-six dollars and a few cents.”
“Then I go in for an equal share,” Ben said, delighted at having such
an opportunity to become a ship-owner, and Jake concluded that it would
be to his advantage to own as much as either of his companions, instead
of allowing the captain to be the largest stockholder.
“We’ll go down to-morrow morning and have one more look at her. Chloe
and Gertie had better come along also, for they’ll surely want to know
what the cabin is like.”
“Is she hitched up to de wharf?” the old woman asked quickly.
“No; she’s anchored out in the harbor; but one of the tenders is moored
at McKesson and Robbins’ dock, and it is large enough----”
“Dey can’t make dem little aig-shells big enuff fur yer ole mammy,”
Chloe said with great emphasis. “I’se ’bused my po’ bones too much
sence I done lef’ Georgy, an’ I ain’t gwine to drag ’em ’round any mo’.”
“Then you shall stay here and cook a regular thanksgiving dinner, for
most likely it will be ship-owners instead of poor castaways who’ll
dine with you this noon.”
“Who ever dey is de vittles ’ll be right dar smokin’ hot, an’ it won’t
be no sich trash as sailor-men hab ter eat.”
“Just wait till you get on board of our schooner to go to New York,”
Jake said, laughing heartily at the old woman’s allusion to his skill
as a cook, “an’ then you’ll find out that sailor-men ain’t starved,
more especially them as lives in the cabin.”
“I spects dat’ll be the time when I’se done gone choked to deaf fur a
piece of bread,” old Chloe replied, raising her hands in horror with
such a quick motion that the cat, who had been sleeping peacefully on
her broad lap, jumped down in alarm.
The prospective ship-owners were ready to inspect the schooner at a
very early hour next morning, and when they arrived on board Jake and
Ben were in a perfect fever of delight.
The Restless had indeed a beautiful model, and Captain Irwin’s praise
of her was not half-strong enough, so his companions thought. As
she swung at anchor, pulling gently at her cables now and then, the
spectator would have said that she was a pleasure yacht, and but one
glance at the shapely black hull with its narrow band of gilt, was
necessary to give a good idea of how swiftly she would fly before the
wind when her white wings were spread.
“I never saw nothin’ like her before,” Jake said, as he stood aft and
looked forward across the decks, which glistened white and smooth in
the sunlight. “It don’t seem as if a craft like this oughter be made to
work.”
“She was built especially for the fruit trade, and I fancy that nothing
can catch her when once she’s given her head,” Captain Irwin said with
an air of pride. “Now we’ll show Gertie the cabin, and then look around
forward.”
The saloon, which seemed very large for a craft the size of the
Restless, was what one might expect from the appearance of the
outside--cool, dainty and finished in the best of taste, with various
kinds and colors of polished wood. The furniture was cane, with the
exception of a stationary dining-table, and the swinging-trays of
highly polished glasses, lamps and mirrors gave a sparkle and life to
the interior which exactly accorded with Gertie’s fancy.
Leading from this apartment were four tiny state-rooms, each containing
two bunks, a chest of drawers, wash-stand, mirror, lamp and one chair.
These sleeping quarters were not more than half as large as those on
the Sea Queen, but that was by no means a serious defect in the eyes of
the party who proposed to purchase what Captain Irwin pronounced the
most perfect vessel he had ever seen.
“She’s just beautiful!” Gertie exclaimed, after every room had been
inspected and they were in the saloon once more. “If you buy her, and
let Chloe, the cat and me sail with you all the time, there’ll be
nothing more for which we can ask.”
“I’m afraid you would think differently after we made two or three
voyages and you saw other girls with pretty dresses or trinkets,” the
captain said laughingly. “I’ll promise that you shall cruise in her
now and then; but you and Ben are going to school when we arrive in
New York, and it’ll be a couple of years at least before he signs the
shipping papers.”
“Then we’ll spend our vacations on board, and call every night while
you are in port,” Gertie said gleefully as the captain led the way
forward, where Jake in turn expressed his perfect satisfaction with
that portion of the schooner which would most naturally interest him.
“That’s a galley what is a galley, an’ after I’ve been in it
twenty-four hours I’ll knock old Chloe’s eye out with the style of our
dinners, or agree never to lift a skillet agin.”
From stem to stern, above and below, the prospective purchasers of the
Restless went on their tour of inspection, and when it was finished no
one had a single fault to find. It was not necessary for the captain to
ask Jake and Ben if they were still willing to buy the schooner; both
urged him to go on shore with the least possible delay and conclude the
trade, lest some one else should accept the offer.
Two hours later the transfer of the jaunty little vessel was effected,
and when they went home to the feast Chloe was supposed to be
preparing, the Restless had been chartered to load with fruit as soon
as she could be made ready for sea.
Old Chloe was the only one who did not feel delighted because of this
accession of property, and her failure to participate in the general
joy arose from the dislike of trusting her precious body on the water
again.
“I don’t like dis yere scurryin’ ’roun’ on de sea,” she said very
decidedly. “Ef yer wants ter go any whar in de steam-cars, Mammy
Chloe’s on han’, an’ den she knows all de time whar she is; but dis
gittin’ inter a little boat an’ bein’ blowed frum one part ob de world
to de odder is jes’ flyin’ in de face ob Providence, kase yer nebber
knows noting ’bout youseself.”
“We won’t ask you to take but one trip, aunty,” Captain Irwin said when
mirth would permit of speech. “After we arrive in New York you shall be
anchored in some comfortable little cottage, and you needn’t ever so
much as look at water, except while washing your face.”
“If I kin drag my po’ ole bones dat far it’ll be a marcy,” Chloe said
with a sigh, “but I ’specs we’se all gwine ter be drowned two or free
times ’fore we gits dere.”
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE SHORE ANCHORAGE.
The day on which the good schooner Restless became their property was
the last Captain Irwin’s party spent at Key West in the same aimless
fashion as the six weeks previous had been passed.
On the following morning each one had quite as much as he or she could
do, for according to the terms of the charter it was necessary the
vessel should leave port at the earliest possible moment.
The captain had a variety of duties which could only be attended to by
himself. To Jake was left the work of buying and putting aboard the
provisions; Ben and Gertie were detailed to set the cabin to rights,
help Chloe pack up such household goods as they owned, and look after
their removal.
On the second day the task of loading the schooner was begun, and
forty-eight hours later the Restless left the harbor bound north. Four
sailors, one of whom was to act as mate, had been hired, and with such
help as Jake and Ben could give, she had crew enough to handle her in
any kind of weather.
Of course Chloe, Gertie and the cat were installed in one of the
state-rooms; Captain Irwin occupied the second, while the mate had
another, and it was supposed that Ben and the cook would divide the
last between them, but Jake insisted on sleeping in the forecastle,
even though he was a third owner of the vessel, giving the following
as his reason:
“You see, I never have lived aft, an’ it’s hard work teachin’ old dogs
new tricks. Then, agin, no matter if _half_ the schooner was mine, I’m
only the cook after all, an’ it don’t do for the captain of the galley
to sling too much style.”
After that explanation no one attempted to dissuade him from his
purpose. He did not think it out of place to visit the cabin very
often during his leisure moments, nor did he forget his intention to
“knock Chloe’s eye out” by a series of elaborate meals. It seemed as if
each contained a greater variety of food than the one preceding, and
before two days elapsed the old woman was willing to admit that he was
skillful.
“He’s de fustest man I’se eber seen what was wuff his salt in a
kitchen,” she said confidentially to Gertie. “He kin turn out what
tastes mighty good, but bress yer heart, honey, it’s only kase he’s on
de water. Wait till we fin’ dat home de captin tells ’bout, an’ den he
won’t ’mount to scarcely nuffin’ at all side ob yer ole mammy.”
It was as if the Restless tried on this first voyage to convince her
new owners that they had not been mistaken in regard to her speed. With
strong, favoring winds she fairly flew over the water, and it is an
actual fact, as Ben can prove by certain newspaper cuttings which he
preserves very carefully, that she arrived at New York in two hours’
less time than was occupied by the mail steamer during the same week.
The passengers did not land immediately after the schooner reached the
dock. They already looked upon her cabin as home, therefore it was
decided that all should remain on board until after the cargo was
discharged, when the captain would have plenty of time in which to make
the necessary arrangements.
Before a week passed every detail had been settled regarding the “shore
anchorage.” The old French lady with whom Captain Irwin was acquainted,
Madame Servoise, was not only willing, but very happy to be installed
as the superintendent of such a home as it was proposed to make, and at
once set out to search for a dwelling, after which matters progressed
finely.
A little cottage on the banks of the Hudson River, with a view of the
water, such as would be pleasing to Captain Irwin, and a garden that
gave Chloe visions of table luxuries grown under her own eyes, was the
place selected. It was but a short walk from the school which Ben and
Gertie were to attend, and to the castaways who had never before known
what a real home was, it filled every requirement.
Chloe was allowed to fit up her own especial domain--the kitchen--as
best pleased her, and never was a purchaser more captious than she when
the culinary articles were selected.
“I’se gwine ter hab what’s mos’ needed,” she said privately to Gertie,
“so’s I kin show dat wuffless Jake de meanin’ ob a good cook. ’Pears
like he’s swelled all up kase we ate so much on de schooner, an’ yer
ole aunty’s gwine ter fill him up full once, so’s he can’t talk ’bout
his own vittles.”
She succeeded, as a matter of fact, for the first dinner in the new
house was such an one as would have tempted the appetite of the
daintiest epicure, and to the old woman’s great delight Jake did full
justice to the meal.
“You ain’t a bad cook, aunty,” he said, when it was not possible for
him to eat any more, “an’ I allow you can get up what’s good for a
man’s stomach; but jest wait till I own half of the Restless instead of
one-third. Then the whole cabin is to be turned into a galley, an’ I’ll
have a chance to swing myself.”
Chloe made no reply. She knew the change in the schooner Jake spoke of
would never be made and the amount of food he had eaten was sufficient
praise.
If it were only possible to show you that home now, after it has been
occupied all these years, you would acknowledge that there could
be none more pleasant. Yet though such a long time has elapsed,
that little cottage where the cat, which was once believed to be
supernatural, is spending her declining days in comfort, save when an
over-bold mouse causes some trouble, is one of the most delightful
places at which to visit, and a guest is always eager to return.
Sometimes, when he is in a particularly good humor, Jake admits that
he gets better meals ashore than on the Restless, and it is positive
Captain Irwin looks forward impatiently to the days when he can remain
permanently with his family in New York.
It has been a number of years since the Sea Queen started out on her
last voyage, and Ben and Gertie are now so far embarked on the sea of
life that she wears a pretty diamond ring on her forefinger, apparently
thinking it very precious, for it was presented by the young mate of
the Restless.
Perhaps it would be well to look back for a moment to the time when
Captain Irwin’s “family” first began housekeeping, for there were
one or two incidents which occurred shortly afterward that may be
interesting.
When the Restless arrived in port at the end of the second voyage
after she was owned by those who spent so many days on Content Key,
Captain Irwin made it his business to search for Chloe’s Moses, and
after some difficulty succeeded in finding him at a hotel on Broadway,
where he was employed as waiter.
Of course Moses was delighted to hear from his mother, whom he had
believed to be dead, and quite naturally he took advantage of the first
opportunity to call upon her.
Prepared in advance for the visit, Chloe sat in the kitchen with her
turban twisted a trifle tighter than usual, and her fat face fairly
glistening with motherly affection.
Mrs. Servoise was at the window when Moses came up the stoop, and,
just for an instant, she might perhaps have thought her visitor was
a fragment of some dyspeptic rainbow. The most conspicuous portions
of his costume were the shirt-front, collar and cuffs, bedecked with
colored illustrations of horseshoes, jockeys’ caps, whips and spurs.
A red and blue neck-tie, with broad bars of yellow, hung out over the
black, white and green checks on his clothes, and a small cane with a
very large handle lent a general finish to the whole.
Ben and Gertie were almost as much interested in this meeting between
mother and son as the old woman herself, and the former admitted the
gorgeous youth while the latter followed the others to the very door of
the kitchen.
Chloe started to her feet as the boy entered, but instead of folding
him to her bosom as the watchers in the hall-way anticipated, she
retreated toward the stove in real or simulated fear.
“G’way, g’way from h’yar!” she cried, waving her hands nervously.
“Wha’ you fool nigger doin’ in dis house?”
“Why, don’t you know me, mammy? Has I growed so fine dat you fail to
dismember yer own chile?”
“G’way, g’way; don’ come one inch furder, or I’ll scald you, suah! My
Mose wasn’t no sich jumpin’-jack as you is; he was a ’spectable nigger
when he lef’ his ole mammy.”
Ben and Gertie were nearly convulsed with mirth at the tableau
presented just at this moment. In the corner stood old Chloe with both
black hands held in front of her to keep the gorgeous apparition at a
respectful distance, and in the center of the room, his mouth wide open
with astonishment, stood Moses, gazing at his mother as if fearing her
senses had suddenly taken their leave.
“You’se wrong, mammy, you’se wrong. I’se de same Mose what sent fur you
to come up Norf, an’ I’se gettin’ erlong right smart.”
“My boy sent for me,” Chloe said, speaking slowly and with considerable
dignity, “an’ I’se done gone got pretty nigh dead gettin’ here; but it
wasn’t fur sich a hollyhock as you is dat I dragged my pore ole bones
ober de sea. G’way, I tells yer, an’ ef you see my Mose when he’s
’specterable, sen’ him up here ter me.”
It was useless for Moses to insist that his position in society
demanded a faultless costume, and all in vain did he plead with her to
“be sensible.” She positively refused to recognize him until he “looked
decent,” and not until he presented himself in less gorgeous array
would she even treat him with civility.
And the old woman conquered, for on the following evening he called
again dressed according to her ideas of good taste, and received as
affectionate a greeting as the most loving child could have desired.
To-day he is general assistant on board the Restless, and both Jake and
Ben give Chloe glowing reports of his industry and good character.
Nothing was heard regarding Dr. Harlan for nearly two years after the
law had given to Gertie a guardian, and then Captain Irwin brought from
Key West reliable information of his death. During that time he had
remained in the City of Mexico selling his nostrums, when not wholly
intoxicated, and while trying to extract a tooth for an unwilling
patient, but succeeding only in breaking the man’s jaw, he was killed.
It would be affectation to say that Gertie mourned for him. Her
earliest memories were of his cruelty to her mother, and later came
personal fear, after which the knowledge that he was dead could not but
be a relief.
And now a final word.
Next fall Ben takes command of the Restless, Captain Irwin believing
it is time for him to retire from active life; the little schooner has
earned a comfortable competency for her owners, and both he and Jake
will live on shore the remainder of their days. Chloe is also to resign
in favor of a younger cook; her time of labor is well nigh spent, and,
as Jake says, the old people will have nothing to do but watch for the
arrival of the fruiter.
Ben is to be her captain when she goes again to Key West for a cargo,
and with him will be Mrs. Clark, for whom Chloe is to officiate the
last time in the kitchen when she makes the wedding cake. It is safe to
assume that the young captain will be both happy and prosperous, and
never forget that his wife as well as his fortune came from that one
attempt to catch a turtle, which resulted in five people becoming the
most intimate of friends when they could no longer be called castaways.
THE PAW-PAW HUNT.
“Well,” said Phil critically, “I never thought that box of tools would
be of the least earthly use to you, Ned. But that’s as good a bookcase
as any cabinet-maker could turn out.”
“Yes, sir! That’s pretty fair.” Ned Holmes stood up, wiping his hot
face. “The thing’s not hard to put together. But when you come to this
polishing--first varnish and then sandpaper, varnish and sandpaper--it
almost cracks your back.”
The boys were in the back yard, where Ned had made his workshop under
the big walnut. They were just out of school, and Phil had followed
Ned home. Carpentering was the last hobby. Just then they heard Ned’s
sister Fan, with two or three other girls, come down the street to the
gate.
“Let’s go in and see Ned at work,” cried Jenny Symons, with her usual
giggle.
“Ned don’t like to be bothered,” whispered Fanny.
“Dear me! The Grand Turk, is he? Well, I’m not going to bother him.”
In they came.
“Isn’t it splendid?”
“How nice! Why, it’s perfectly lovely!”
“La! Did you really do it all yourself, N-- Mr. Holmes?”
Ned and Phil were near enough to the age of “beaux” to touch their hats
and say, “Good-evening, ladies.” Then they both stooped and began to
sandpaper, as if for their lives.
“I can’t do anything, with a lot of girls cluttering about,” muttered
Ned, not so low but that Jenny and her companions heard him, and after
a few more giggles and tosses of the head they flounced off, leaving
Fan and Phil’s sister Maggie on the steps.
“Do we worry you, Ned?” asked Fan.
“Not if you sit there.”
Phil and he then continued their conversation, which was couched in
mysterious phrases of how Jim Ford muffed four times, and that there
could not be a doubt that Joe had a foul, and how they would lay three
to one that Denzell would gag in Horace to-morrow.
Maggie was busy with her box of paper dolls, but Fanny had nothing to
do but notice how warm the sun was, although the grass patch under the
walnut tree was nipped brown by the frost. She looked beyond the mass
of smoky chimneys to where Mt. Hale rose like a green sugar loaf into
the October sky.
“I’ll tell you what would be good for Saturday,” she said, with a wise
little nod. “Paw-paws. You and Ned, Phil and Maggie and me, and more
if you choose. Start by daylight, and go to Mt. Hale, and stay all day
paw-paw hunting.”
“And pack baskets!” cried Maggie, clapping her hands. “Dinner and
supper both, Fan. We’d better take a lot, for our Phil--Oh, well, he’s
_always_ hungry.”
Phil’s face grew very red, and Ned answered on behalf of his friend,
“Paw-paw hunting? Bosh!”
“Don’t you think it would be nice, Ned?” said Fan.
“Very nice for a lot of girls,” loftily. “But I don’t like paw-paws;
mushy, sweet stuff. Anyhow, you couldn’t climb Mt. Hale, and if you
did, there’s no paw-paws on it.”
“I’ve been to the top twice. And the paw-paws are on the
side”--quietly. “But we’ll not go. Come in, Maggie.”
The girls disappeared in the house. As soon as they were out of sight
Ned threw down his sandpaper.
“I tell you, Phil, it’s just the thing.”
“Mt. Hale? Yes, it would be jolly. We’ll go Saturday. There’s Jim and
John Stiles, and Sam Bender’ll go, and--oh, lots! And mother’ll put up
a market basket of dinner, and your mother’ll do the same; and----”
“But about the girls?”
“Oh, no matter about the girls! They’re always in the way, stuck in
the mud, or screaming at snakes, or crying out ‘Oh, how can you?’ if a
fellow gets a bird’s nest or trees a bunny, or anything.”
“That’s so!” rejoined Ned. He sandpapered away in silence for awhile,
and then looked up.
“Tell you, Phil, it would be mean to leave ’em out. It was Fan thought
of it, you know.”
“Yes, I was just thinking that;” for Phil always took Ned’s opinions
second-hand as his own.
“We’ll let them in. Fan, and your Maggie, and--well, Jenny Bowler
hasn’t much nonsense about her. But none of that Symons set. No, sir!”
“No, indeed. And about the fellows?”
“Oh, of course I won’t have the Stileses or that crowd where Fan is.
Sam Bender’s all right. Fan!” beckoning with his plane to the window
and sauntering up. “Phil and I are willing to take you girls out,
Saturday. We’ve thought over the places and settled on Mt. Hale.”
“Oh, thank you, boys!” cried little Maggie.
“You can tell Jenny Bowler she may go, but nobody else, mind. You
needn’t trouble yourself about any arrangements. We’ll attend to
everything.”
“Very well,” said Fan. But she laughed to herself when they were gone,
and then hurried to write a note to “_Miss Jenny Bowler. Private and
immediate._”
Fan was the only girl alive, her father said, who never asked
questions. The time passed until Friday evening, and she had not shown
the slightest curiosity as to Ned’s arrangements, though he and Phil
went about in an exasperating state of fuss and mystery.
“We’re all ready for to-morrow,” said Ned at last.
“Provisions?” Fan looked up from her beadwork. “You know what Maggie
says of ‘our Phil’s appetite.’”
“Then our Phil’s father ought to have come to his rescue. Didn’t take
the slightest interest whatever. Wouldn’t put down a penny. However, we
managed it. We’ve got Bender’s buggy and Sharp’s old mare, and eight
pounds of crackers.”
“Is that all?”
“Why, what more do you want? The buggy’s for you girls. And we’re going
to shoot game, and catch fish for dinner. Hunters never take anything
but bread with them.”
“Oh!”
Fanny pricked away at her beads. Presently, she said gently, “Ned, if
I might advise--we girls can easily walk, and that old mare of Sharp’s
is blind and lame. You’ll find her harder to manage than a dozen tired
girls. And I really don’t think I’d bring my gun. There’s always risk
of accident with children like Maggie about.”
“I have made the arrangements, Frances. I did not, I believe, ask for
any advice.”
When Ned said Frances matters were grave indeed. Fanny was silent.
Early the next morning Sharp’s old mare, Betty, arrived, Bender’s old
buggy lumbering behind her, threatening to go to pieces at every turn.
The three girls were hoisted in with difficulty, while Ned stood up to
drive. An enormous bag of crackers lay in front--“The whole of Smith’s
stale stock,” Maggie whispered, peeping in with a wry face. Phil and
Sam marched alongside, loaded with guns and fishing-rods.
On they went from Dr. Thorpe’s door, down Church street into Main, past
the warehouses and mills. Would they never get out of town? The buggy
creaked, the old horse stumbled and puffed, and finally began to wheeze
and snort, precisely like a steam-tug. Ned’s face grew scarlet, though
he tried to laugh. The mare’s walk grew slower and slower.
“Hello, Ned! Going to a funeral?” called some boys from the sidewalk.
“Bound for the races, Ned?” shouted another. “Blooded stock there.”
He could see two gentlemen going down the pavement glance at each other
and hide a smile, and one pretty young lady laughed outright. Phil and
Sam had pushed on before, ashamed of the turnout. At last Mrs. Betty
stopped altogether, to treat herself to a comfortable wheeze in quiet.
Ned looked round in despair.
“Girls, I’m very sorry, but if you’d only get out and walk a bit, may
be I could get her out of town faster.”
Out scrambled the girls, only too glad to be released.
The end was that they walked to the top of Mt. Hale, while Betty
wheezed and puffed and balked behind. But once on the mountain top,
what was Betty or any other trouble? Mt. Hale was one of the steep
hills that overlook the Ohio. Underneath, the black, bituminous smoke
of the town drifted like a passing cloud across the broad landscape
of sunlighted, rolling hills and misty valleys. The river, yellow and
glistening, wound from one horizon to the other. Here and there a trail
of white smoke showed where a steamer lay.
But the children did not look long at river or landscape. They only
knew they were high in the air, above the rest of the world; the moss
was deep under their feet; old oaks and sycamores rose like giants
overhead; through the tangled undergrowth glowed the golden-green
paw-paws, full of luscious meat. There were miniature ponds, dark with
sumach; bushes, brooks, like glittering threads, among the rocks.
“There’s lots of minnows in those runs,” said Ned. “You try for them,
Sam, and Phil and I will bring down a squirrel or two. Broiled squirrel
will be very good for dinner;” for the boys, who had eaten no breakfast
in their excitement, began to feel, after their five miles’ walk, that
dry crackers were not so palatable as they seemed yesterday.
Betty was tied to a tree, where she could nibble at will. Ned put the
crackers in a basket and hung them on a paw-paw bush.
“Are they quite safe there?” said Maggie anxiously.
“Now what would hurt them?” cried Phil. “Boys, I believe Mag thinks
these woods are full of tigers and lions. Girls are so fussy!” in a
pitying tone, as they walked away guns in hand.
“Women,” said Ned, “are well enough in their place. But their place,
you see, is the house. They don’t somehow know how to get along out of
doors.”
Fan and Jenny had apparently a good deal to do out of doors. There
were paw-paws to gather, and moss, and roots, and ferns for their
herbariums, and then they sat down and began some weighty school
secrets, having established Maggie out of hearing in a doll’s house at
the root of a tree. Now and then, the whiz of a gun would be heard,
but the sun crept overhead and began to go down on the other side, and
the boys did not appear.
“I am so hungry!” cried Maggie, with a little sob.
“So are we,” said a voice behind her, and Sam Bender came up. “Where
are the girls, Maggie?”
“I don’t know. They’ve been gone half an hour. It’s awfully lonely
here. Where’s your fish, Sam?”
“Yes, where’s your fish, Sam?” shouted Ned, coming with Phil through the
thicket. The boys were a little boisterous, as if they wanted to cover
some uneasiness.
“Well, the fact is, I haven’t any. Plague on the minnows! they’d shy
at the bait, do what I would. But minnows are poor eating for a hungry
man, and here are six of us,” for by that time the two girls came
strolling up from the hollow, loaded with moss.
“Where’s the game, boys? I’m a good hand at skinning a squirrel.”
Ned looked at Phil, and Phil stared after a bird that was flying past.
“I hadn’t a single chance for a good shot, to-day,” growled the latter
hunter.
“I nearly winged two,” said Ned, “and I just grazed a fellow going into
his hole--hit the top of his tail. It was as pretty a shot as ever I
saw.”
“Do you mean,” said Sam, “that you’ve shot nothing--nothing at all?”
Phil gave a foolish laugh.
“That’s about it,” said Ned.
There was a dead silence. Then poor little Maggie began to sob. “I’m
as hungry as ever was, and we’re here in this big forest, and Betty
can’t take us home, and we’ll die of starvation. I eated just one bun
for my breakfast this morning. A girl can’t live forever on one bun.”
“It’s this gun,” said Ned, giving it a vicious shake. “Nobody could
have aimed better than I did!”
“Look there!” screamed Jenny. They all turned in dismay, to see an
enormous pig dashing through the bushes, the cracker basket around her
neck like a necklace, munching as she ran, while a napkin streamed out
of one side of her jaws, and the cracker bag out of the other. The boys
gave chase, shouting and flinging stones, but the harder they ran, the
more recklessly the triumphant hog threw herself headlong through bush
and brake. They gave up at last, and came back.
“Well, there’s an end of the last chance,” said Ned.
“There are plenty of paw-paws,” suggested Fan.
“The very thought of them sickens me. The only thing left is to go home
as fast as possible. It’s a miserable end to the day.”
“I think,” said Fan, trying to keep a laugh out of her face, “I think I
see a smoke. Come and let us see if it is a troop of wandering Indians
with buffalo meat. Who knows, Maggie?”
Down through the bushes they rushed, over the brook, round the high
peak of the hill. There, in a sheltered little cove made by the rocks
was a glorious wood fire, a great heap of delicious biscuits well
buttered, a steaming pot of coffee, cold chicken.
“And here is beef to frizzle, and two slices of ham to broil,” said
Fan, talking very fast, her cheeks red as roses, and her eyes bright.
“Get two forked sticks, boys, so,” placing it in their awkward fingers.
“Isn’t it splendid?”
Phil and Sam gave a tremendous cheer that made the woods ring. Maggie
joined in with her shrill little pipe, and jumped like a crazy child.
But Ned was very quiet.
“These are mother’s biscuits. How did you bring the things, Fan?” he
said.
“In the seat of the buggy.”
“How good they are!”
Never did any meal taste like that one, though the ham was scorched
and the beef was fairly burned. They did not leave a crumb nor a bit
of meat, though Maggie pleaded hard for the little birds. She had not
exaggerated the appetite of “our Phil,” and to tell the truth the
others were quite his equals.
The girls walked home, I am ashamed to say.
The road was steep, and made of slippery clay.
The buggy perpetually ran down on Betty’s heels, and such were her
asthmatic puffs and snorts, that the boys declared the people living on
the mountain would fancy a steamer had missed its way, and was scaling
the height. Ned and Phil both had to hold her head to bring her down in
safety; and it was quite dark before they reached the town. But nobody
could now mistake the procession for a funeral.
“I never had more fun in my life,” said Sam.
“Nor such a dinner!” responded Phil. “Ned, what d’ye say to going again
some Saturday--soon?”
“All right! But”--lowering his voice--“let’s leave the girls to manage.
There’s more in girls than I thought”--reflectively--“but it wouldn’t
do to tell them so.”
THE LEATHER HARNESS.
Along the banks of the blue Connecticut were dotted the substantial
white houses, and the graceful elms of the village of Hadley--an old
town now, and almost hidden out of sight by the stately sweep of the
great elm branches; but then scarcely beyond the age of a “settlement,”
and content with ways and goings that we should call very primitive.
But the houses, standing to this day, show by their solid square walls
and gamble roofs and handsome finishings within, that their owners felt
they had a dignity to preserve, even though working their fortunes out
of colonial soil, almost beyond the reach of the king’s benediction.
And the great waving seas of broomcorn and tobacco, rising and falling
on every August breeze to-day, tell us what those fortunes may have
grown to be; or rather, how full the cellars and granaries must have
been; for the purses were not so easily swelled.
There was little money in circulation, and little market for what their
famous “meadow-land” produced; but what of that? Everything that the
palate could desire was stored in abundance in the house; and there was
goose every day for dinner, if one could judge from the flocks that
hissed across the greensward between the double row of elms along the
street. And under every roof was a loom where the thrifty housewife
fitted out her family with homespun suits in which stately gentlemen
were quite content to follow everyday vocations. “Boughten suits”
of cloth purchased at the store, were reserved for solemn and grand
occasions and for the more ordinary wear of the great dignitaries of
the town--the minister, the squire and the high sheriff of the county.
And what that dignity, particularly as embodied in the minister, really
was, boys growing up in modern days can never fully comprehend; they
can only listen to stories they hear their fathers and uncles, or
great-uncles telling among themselves, just as they listen to the tales
of encounter with painted Indians. No such thing nowadays; gone forever.
Imagine a set of boys wild with the excitement of their games, tumbling
over or racing past each other, pell mell, helter skelter, like mad,
when, at a muffled cry from one of them, “There comes the minister!”
the whole troop are suddenly transfixed, stand for an instant as if
struck by a thunderbolt, and then falling into ranks wait motionless,
hat in hand, until that embodiment of sacred truth in gown and bands
has passed them by!
But Parson Hopkins, though he knew how to preserve his dignity, and
could look stern enough on Sunday when teaching those very boys how
very far they were from keeping a perfect law, had enough of the
true spirit of his Master hidden behind those stiff white bands to
kindle a good many sparks of sympathy with all that interested
them. A tradition is handed down of his even having been seen on the
greensward, gown and all, playing the best bat in all their game of
ball. Be that as it may, he had two boys of his own, who played him a
trick that is repeated on their parents by boys of this generation;
that is to say, they grew up rapidly and before he realized the fact
stood head and shoulders above him; Nathan was within a week of being
twenty-one, and John a year behind him.
When this crisis had arrived, the old gentleman summoned Nathan to his
study, an event which would once have seemed to him of awful solemnity,
and even now, that he felt himself within one week of being a man, wore
an aspect most thoroughly to be respected.
His father, in a dark-green gown of ample folds, sat behind his study
table; a sermon on the inalienable gift of free will lay half completed
before him, a freshly starched neck band had been put on for the
occasion, and his light hair combed directly toward his nose and square
cut across the middle of his forehead, showed respect for the occasion
by the smoothness with which it lay upon his reverend head.
“Nathan,” he said, “a few days will bring you to that age when a man
is expected to take a position of his own, and begin to make way for
himself in the world. You have been a dutiful son, Nathan, and I wish
to give you as handsome an outfit as lies in my power. There is a deed
of three acres of my meadow land, and I shall add to it a freedom suit
of ‘boughten’ cloth and a leather harness. If I abounded more largely
in worldly goods, I could rejoice for your sake; but I give you what
I can and you must make of it what you can. And you may be sure my
blessing goes with it.”
The old gentleman reached his hand toward his son, who had remained
standing all this time, for young people in those days never ventured
to sit in the presence of their parents unless invited. The grasp was
warm and strong, but was also a signal that Nathan was dismissed; and
having thanked his father as properly as he knew how, he closed the
door and descended the stairs with all the speed his new grandeur would
permit.
A “boughten suit,” and a leather harness.
And himself a man, dismissed affectionately from his father’s care to
see what kind of a show he could make for himself in the world with
three acres of meadow land as a foundation. He met his brother John as
he reached the hall, but passed him with very little notice. A dignity
like his must be considered by all parties.
But the year that was to make a man of John also whirled quickly round,
and he, in his turn, was summoned to that solemn place of audience, the
study.
“John,” said his father, “I wish to do as well by you as I did by
Nathan, and would gladly have done better by you both. Your freedom
suit shall be of ‘boughten cloth’ like his, you shall have a leather
harness and here is a deed for the meadow land, as fine a piece as
his. And may you do well with it, my boy. It is only a beginning, but
that is all a young man needs. We will see what you will work out for
yourself.”
John had been standing at a respectful distance from his father,
listening to what he said with a gaze fixed upon the floor. Now he
raised his head, and looked at the parson with an earnest face and
frank, honest eyes.
“Father,” he said bluntly, “you are very kind, and I trust I shall
always prove a grateful and dutiful son. But I don’t want a ‘boughten
suit’ and a leather harness. I don’t want anything I may have to
_come down from_. A rope harness is good enough for me, and so is the
homespun I have worn all my life. If I am able to work my way up from
them to something better that I have earned for myself, why then I can
wear it and feel like a man; but if I begin with fine feathers only to
drop them out, or draggle them in the mud, I shall cut a sorry figure
by and by.”
For a moment the reverend face was betrayed into an expression of
surprise, but it was quickly followed by another of hearty approval.
“Take your own way then, my son,” he said; “it is a good principle
to start upon. Only add to it the fear of God and the love of your
neighbor, and I shall live to see you all I could desire.”
A few days later John might have been seen setting resolutely forth
on his first visit to his new farm, for the planting season was just
coming on, and the broad meadows, stretching up and down the river
without a fence to mar them, were dotted everywhere with carts and
plows, horses and busy farmers, passing up and down the long furrows
with merry sounds.
As he walked sturdily beside his horse he met his brother, mounted in
his cart, driving in the opposite direction, and greeted him with a
cordial smile, which, was returned only by a contemptuous glance at the
rope harness.
“You think I am a great fool, don’t you?” said John, laughing
good-naturedly.
“Well, I don’t know that I should say that?” replied Nathan rather
coldly, “but I don’t agree with you. Take all you can get in this
world; that’s my principle.”
“And precisely what I mean to do,” said John, “but the first thing is
_to get it_. Taking what is given you when you are not sure you can
hold on to it, I don’t like as well. But wait a minute, though; there’s
a bit of rope caught in your harness, let me pull it off for you.”
“No, no,” said Nathan, “it’s a piece I put in there. You see that strap
wore out and I couldn’t very well have it replaced, so I worked in a
bit of rope instead. It draws just the same.”
“A pity, though,” said John; “it doesn’t look as well as leather. But I
must get to my work. Good-morning and success to you.”
He plodded on, and so did time and seasons; and meanwhile the two
brothers worked, not only their farms but their principles.
Nathan’s, if he had condescended to extend his remarks in the meadows,
would have been not only “Take what you can get,” but “don’t trouble
yourself too much about getting it. Make a good appearance in the
world, and trust to things coming to you without too much hard work;”
while John’s “Yes, but the first thing is to get it,” meant also, “if
you have your way to make in the world, go to work and make it. Don’t
despise humble beginnings, but aim at something higher. Don’t stand
with your gun on your shoulder either, but fire, and whatever you
fairly bring down pick up and enjoy it.”
The next spring the brothers met again, but the bit of rope in Nathan’s
harness had multiplied into three or four.
“How does your harness wear?” he asked. “Mine breaks away, here and
there, and as I did not realize all I hoped on my crops last year I
feel a little pinched, and have mended it as I could.”
“Seems to me rather soon for a leather harness to be giving out if it
is well taken care of,” said John. “I found mine getting a little weak
in one place and I put in a leather strap. I thought that would be the
best economy in the end.”
So things went on, and before very long Nathan’s splicings of rope grew
more and more apparent, while as one portion after another of John’s
harness became worn it was quietly replaced by a similar one of leather
until the neighbors could not help noticing that the original leather
harness was becoming rapidly transformed into one of rope, while John’s
more humble outfit assumed, gradually but steadily, a more substantial
character.
The “boughten suit,” also, refused to meet the wear and tear of life
without a protest, and one darn after another appeared, until at last a
patch of homespun seemed the only resort, and after that final disgrace
the whole was dropped off, and a substitute from a home loom, and
rather coarser than usual, took its place.
John worked steadily on, and with industry and his new harness in
a few years had laid up capital enough to buy a partnership in the
village store. The partnership soon became an ownership, and village
store-keeping being profitable John one day found himself able to
gather up his possessions and invest them in a fine business in Boston.
And the day came when with “boughten” clothes of the most gentlemanly
cut the city could afford, and with his own horses and carriage, he
came to make his native town a visit, and to find that Nathan and all
his affairs had been growing more and more _ropy_ all the while.
“Take all you can get honestly in this world, brother,” said John, with
the old frank smile; “a pretty good rule _sometimes_, especially just
now,” and he slipped into his hand a check for a thousand dollars, with
which Nathan was very happy to pay off the mortgage on his farm, buy a
new harness, and make himself more comfortable in several ways.
Which way do _you_ think the best, in taking all you can get?
THE END.
A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS
For Young People
BY POPULAR WRITERS,
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=Bonnie Prince Charlie=: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. By +G. A.
Henty+. With 12 full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo,
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The adventures of the son of a Scotch officer in French service. The
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=With Clive in India=; or, the Beginnings of an Empire. By +G. A.
Henty+. With 12 full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo,
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The period between the landing of Clive as a young writer in India and
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=The Lion of the North=: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus and the Wars of
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In this story Mr. Henty gives the history of the first part of the
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=The Dragon and the Raven=; or, The Days of King Alfred. By +G. A.
Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +C. J. Staniland+, R.I.
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle
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“Treated in a manner most attractive to the boyish
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=The Young Carthaginian=: A Story of the Times of Hannibal. By +G.
A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +C. J. Staniland+, R.I.
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Boys reading the history of the Punic Wars have seldom a keen
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“Well constructed and vividly told. From first to last nothing stays
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=In Freedom’s Cause=: A Story of Wallace and Bruce. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price
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In this story the author relates the stirring tale of the Scottish
War of Independence. The extraordinary valor and personal prowess of
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Schoolmaster._
=With Lee in Virginia=: A Story of the American Civil War. By +G.
A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
The story of a young Virginian planter, who, after bravely proving his
sympathy with the slaves of brutal masters, serves with no less courage
and enthusiasm under Lee and Jackson through the most exciting events
of the struggle. He has many hairbreadth escapes, is several times
wounded and twice taken prisoner; but his courage and readiness and, in
two cases, the devotion of a black servant and of a runaway slave whom
he had assisted, bring him safely through all difficulties.
“One of the best stories for lads which Mr. Henty has yet written.
The picture is full of life and color, and the stirring and romantic
incidents are skillfully blended with the personal interest and charm
of the story.”--_Standard._
=By England’s Aid=; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604). By
+G. A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Alfred Pearse+, and
Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The story of two English lads who go to Holland as pages in the service
of one of “the fighting Veres.” After many adventures by sea and land,
one of the lads finds himself on board a Spanish ship at the time of
the defeat of the Armada, and escapes only to fall into the hands of
the Corsairs. He is successful in getting back to Spain under the
protection of a wealthy merchant, and regains his native country after
the capture of Cadiz.
“It is an admirable book for youngsters. It overflows with stirring
incident and exciting adventure, and the color of the era and of
the scene are finely reproduced. The illustrations add to its
attractiveness.”--_Boston Gazette._
=By Right of Conquest=; or, With Cortez in Mexico. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations by +W. S. Stacey+, and Two Maps. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.50.
The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under the
magnificent leadership of Cortez is always rightly ranked among
the most romantic and daring exploits in history. With this as the
groundwork of his story Mr. Henty has interwoven the adventures of
an English youth, Roger Hawkshaw, the sole survivor of the good ship
Swan, which had sailed from a Devon port to challenge the mercantile
supremacy of the Spaniards in the New World. He is beset by many perils
among the natives, but is saved by his own judgment and strength, and
by the devotion of an Aztec princess. At last by a ruse he obtains the
protection of the Spaniards, and after the fall of Mexico he succeeds
in regaining his native shore, with a fortune and a charming Aztec
bride.
“‘By Right of Conquest’ is the nearest approach to a
perfectly successful historical tale that Mr. Henty has yet
published.”--_Academy._
=In the Reign of Terror=: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy. By +G.
A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +J. Schönberg+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
Harry Sandwith, a Westminster boy, becomes a resident at the chateau
of a French marquis, and after various adventures accompanies the
family to Paris at the crisis of the Revolution. Imprisonment and death
reduce their number, and the hero finds himself beset by perils with
the three young daughters of the house in his charge. After hairbreadth
escapes they reach Nantes. There the girls are condemned to death in
the coffin-ships, but are saved by the unfailing courage of their boy
protector.
“Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat
Mr. Henty’s record. His adventures will delight boys by the
audacity and peril they depict.... The story is one of Mr. Henty’s
best.”--_Saturday Review._
=With Wolfe in Canada=; or, The Winning of a Continent. By +G. A.
Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
In the present volume Mr. Henty gives an account of the struggle
between Britain and France for supremacy in the North American
continent. On the issue of this war depended not only the destinies
of North America, but to a large extent those of the mother countries
themselves. The fall of Quebec decided that the Anglo-Saxon race should
predominate in the New World; that Britain, and not France, should take
the lead among the nations of Europe; and that English and American
commerce, the English language, and English literature, should spread
right round the globe.
“It is not only a lesson in history as instructively as it is
graphically told, but also a deeply interesting and often thrilling
tale of adventure and peril by flood and field.”--_Illustrated London
News._
=True to the Old Flag=: A Tale of the American War of Independence.
By +G. A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+.
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
In this story the author has gone to the accounts of officers who
took part in the conflict, and lads will find that in no war in which
American and British soldiers have been engaged did they behave with
greater courage and good conduct. The historical portion of the book
being accompanied with numerous thrilling adventures with the redskins
on the shores of Lake Huron, a story of exciting interest is interwoven
with the general narrative and carried through the book.
“Does justice to the pluck and determination of the British soldiers
during the unfortunate struggle against American emancipation. The
son of an American loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls
among the hostile redskins in that very Huron country which has been
endeared to us by the exploits of Hawkeye and Chingachgook.”--_The
Times._
=The Lion of St. Mark=: A Tale of Venice in the Fourteenth Century.
By +G. A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+.
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
A story of Venice at a period when her strength and splendor were put
to the severest tests. The hero displays a fine sense and manliness
which carry him safely through an atmosphere of intrigue, crime, and
bloodshed. He contributes largely to the victories of the Venetians at
Porto d’Anzo and Chioggia, and finally wins the hand of the daughter of
one of the chief men of Venice.
“Every boy should read ‘The Lion of St. Mark.’ Mr. Henty has
never produced a story more delightful, more wholesome, or more
vivacious.”--_Saturday Review._
=A Final Reckoning=: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. By +G. A.
Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +W. B. Wollen+. 12mo, cloth,
price $1.00.
The hero, a young English lad, after rather a stormy boyhood, emigrates
to Australia, and gets employment as an officer in the mounted police.
A few years of active work on the frontier, where he has many a brush
with both natives and bushrangers, gain him promotion to a captaincy,
and he eventually settles down to the peaceful life of a squatter.
“Mr. Henty has never published a more readable, a more carefully
constructed, or a better written story than this.”--_Spectator._
=Under Drake’s Flag=: A Tale of the Spanish Main. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
A story of the days when England and Spain struggled for the supremacy
of the sea. The heroes sail as lads with Drake in the Pacific
expedition, and in his great voyage of circumnavigation. The historical
portion of the story is absolutely to be relied upon, but this will
perhaps be less attractive than the great variety of exciting adventure
through which the young heroes pass in the course of their voyages.
“A book of adventure, where the hero meets with experience enough,
one would think, to turn his hair gray.”--_Harper’s Monthly Magazine._
=By Sheer Pluck=: A Tale of the Ashanti War. By +G. A. Henty+. With
full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The author has woven, in a tale of thrilling interest, all the details
of the Ashanti campaign, of which he was himself a witness. His hero,
after many exciting adventures in the interior, is detained a prisoner
by the king just before the outbreak of the war, but escapes, and
accompanies the English expedition on their march to Coomassie.
“Mr. Henty keeps up his reputation as a writer of boys’ stories. ‘By
Sheer Pluck’ will be eagerly read.”--_Athenæum._
=By Pike and Dyke=: A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic. By +G.
A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Maynard Brown+, and 4
Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
In this story Mr. Henty traces the adventures and brave deeds of an
English boy in the household of the ablest man of his age--William the
Silent. Edward Martin, the son of an English sea-captain, enters the
service of the Prince as a volunteer, and is employed by him in many
dangerous and responsible missions, in the discharge of which he passes
through the great sieges of the time. He ultimately settles down as Sir
Edward Martin.
“Boys with a turn for historical research will be enchanted with the
book, while the rest who only care for adventure will be students in
spite of themselves.”--_St. James’ Gazette._
=St. George for England=: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. By +G. A.
Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
No portion of English history is more crowded with great events than
that of the reign of Edward III. Cressy and Poitiers; the destruction
of the Spanish fleet; the plague of the Black Death; the Jacquerie
rising; these are treated by the author in “St. George for England.”
The hero of the story, although of good family, begins life as a London
apprentice, but after countless adventures and perils becomes by valor
and good conduct the squire, and at last the trusted friend of the
Black Prince.
“Mr. Henty has developed for himself a type of historical novel for
boys which bids fair to supplement, on their behalf, the historical
labors of Sir Walter Scott in the land of fiction.”--_The Standard._
=Captain’s Kidd’s Gold=: The True Story of an Adventurous Sailor Boy.
By +James Franklin Fitts+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
There is something fascinating to the average youth in the very
idea of buried treasure. A vision arises before his eyes of swarthy
Portuguese and Spanish rascals, with black beards and gleaming
eyes--sinister-looking fellows who once on a time haunted the Spanish
Main, sneaking out from some hidden creek in their long, low schooner,
of picaroonish rake and sheer, to attack an unsuspecting trading
craft. There were many famous sea rovers in their day, but none more
celebrated than Capt. Kidd. Perhaps the most fascinating tale of all is
Mr. Fitts’ true story of an adventurous American boy, who receives from
his dying father an ancient bit of vellum, which the latter obtained
in a curious way. The document bears obscure directions purporting
to locate a certain island in the Bahama group, and a considerable
treasure buried there by two of Kidd’s crew. The hero of this book,
Paul Jones Garry, is an ambitious, persevering lad, of salt-water New
England ancestry, and his efforts to reach the island and Secure the
money form one of the most absorbing tales for our youth that has come
from the press.
=Captain Bayley’s Heir=: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California. By
+G. A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +H. M. Paget+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
A frank, manly lad and his cousin are rivals in the heirship of a
considerable property. The former falls into a trap laid by the latter,
and while under a false accusation of theft foolishly leaves England
for America. He works his passage before the mast, joins a small band
of hunters, crosses a tract of country infested with Indians to the
Californian gold diggings, and is successful both as digger and trader.
“Mr. Henty is careful to mingle instruction with entertainment;
and the humorous touches, especially in the sketch of John Holl,
the Westminster dustman, Dickens himself could hardly have
excelled.”--_Christian Leader._
=For Name and Fame=; or, Through Afghan Passes. By +G. A. Henty+. With
full-page Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
An interesting story of the last war in Afghanistan. The hero, after
being wrecked and going through many stirring adventures among the
Malays, finds his way to Calcutta and enlists in a regiment proceeding
to join the army at the Afghan passes. He accompanies the force under
General Roberts to the Peiwar Kotal, is wounded, taken prisoner,
carried to Cabul, whence he is transferred to Candahar, and takes part
in the final defeat of the army of Ayoub Khan.
“The best feature of the book--apart from the interest of its scenes
of adventure--is its honest effort to do justice to the patriotism of
the Afghan people.”--_Daily News._
=Captured by Apes=: The Wonderful Adventures of a Young Animal
Trainer. By +Harry Prentice+. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
The scene of this tale is laid on an island in the Malay Archipelago.
Philip Garland, a young animal collector and trainer, of New York, sets
sail for Eastern seas in quest of a new stock of living curiosities.
The vessel is wrecked off the coast of Borneo and young Garland, the
sole survivor of the disaster, is cast ashore on a small island, and
captured by the apes that overrun the place. The lad discovers that the
ruling spirit of the monkey tribe is a gigantic and vicious baboon,
whom he identifies as Goliah, an animal at one time in his possession
and with whose instruction he had been especially diligent. The brute
recognizes him, and with a kind of malignant satisfaction puts his
former master through the same course of training he had himself
experienced with a faithfulness of detail which shows how astonishing
is monkey recollection. Very novel indeed is the way by which the young
man escapes death. Mr. Prentice has certainly worked a new vein on
juvenile fiction, and the ability with which he handles a difficult
subject stamps him as a writer of undoubted skill.
=The Bravest of the Brave=; or, With Peterborough in Spain. By +G. A.
Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +H. M. Paget+. 12mo, cloth,
price $1.00.
There are few great leaders whose lives and actions have so completely
fallen into oblivion as those of the Earl of Peterborough. This is
largely due to the fact that they were overshadowed by the glory and
successes of Marlborough. His career as general extended over little
more than a year, and yet, in that time, he showed a genius for warfare
which has never been surpassed.
“Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of his work--to
enforce the doctrine of courage and truth. Lads will read ‘The
Bravest of the Brave’ with pleasure and profit; of that we are quite
sure.”--_Daily Telegraph._
=The Cat of Bubastes=: A Story of Ancient Egypt. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
A story which will give young readers an unsurpassed insight into the
customs of the Egyptian people. Amuba, a prince of the Rebu nation, is
carried with his charioteer Jethro into slavery. They become inmates
of the house of Ameres, the Egyptian high-priest, and are happy in his
service until the priest’s son accidentally kills the sacred cat of
Bubastes. In an outburst of popular fury Ameres is killed, and it rests
with Jethro and Amuba to secure the escape of the high-priest’s son and
daughter.
“The story, from the critical moment of the killing of the sacred
cat to the perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very
skillfully constructed and full of exciting adventures. It is
admirably illustrated.”--_Saturday Review._
=With Washington at Monmouth=: A Story of Three Philadelphia Boys. By
+James Otis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Three Philadelphia boys, Seth Graydon “whose mother conducted a
boarding-house which was patronized by the British officers;” Enoch
Ball, “son of that Mrs. Ball whose dancing school was situated on
Letitia Street,” and little Jacob, son of “Chris, the Baker,” serve
as the principal characters. The story is laid during the winter when
Lord Howe held possession of the city, and the lads aid the cause by
assisting the American spies who make regular and frequent visits from
Valley Forge. One reads here of home-life in the captive city when
bread was scarce among the people of the lower classes, and a reckless
prodigality shown by the British officers, who passed the winter in
feasting and merry-making while the members of the patriot army but
a few miles away were suffering from both cold and hunger. The story
abounds with pictures of Colonial life skillfully drawn, and the
glimpses of Washington’s soldiers which are given show that the work
has not been hastily done, or without considerable study.
=For the Temple=: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations by +S. J. Solomon+. 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
Mr. Henty here weaves into the record of Josephus an admirable and
attractive story. The troubles in the district of Tiberias, the
march of the legions, the sieges of Jotapata, of Gamala, and of
Jerusalem, form the impressive and carefully studied historic setting
to the figure of the lad who passes from the vineyard to the service
of Josephus, becomes the leader of a guerrilla band of patriots,
fights bravely for the Temple, and after a brief term of slavery at
Alexandria, returns to his Galilean home with the favor of Titus.
“Mr. Henty’s graphic prose pictures of the hopeless Jewish resistance
to Roman sway add another leaf to his record of the famous wars of
the world.”--_Graphic._
=Facing Death=; or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A Tale of the Coal
Mines. By +G. A. Henty+. With full-page Illustrations by +Gordon
Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“Facing Death” is a story with a purpose. It is intended to show that
a lad who makes up his mind firmly and resolutely that he will rise
in life, and who is prepared to face toil and ridicule and hardship
to carry out his determination, is sure to succeed. The hero of the
story is a typical British boy, dogged, earnest, generous, and though
“shamefaced” to a degree, is ready to face death in the discharge of
duty.
“The tale is well written and well illustrated, and there is much
reality in the characters. If any father, clergyman, or schoolmaster
is on the lookout for a good book to give as a present to a boy who
is worth his salt, this is the book we would recommend.”--_Standard._
=Tom Temple’s Career.= By +Horatio Alger+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Tom Temple, a bright, self-reliant lad, by the death of his father
becomes a boarder at the home of Nathan Middleton, a penurious
insurance agent. Though well paid for keeping the boy, Nathan and his
wife endeavor to bring Master Tom in line with their parsimonious
habits. The lad ingeniously evades their efforts and revolutionizes the
household. As Tom is heir to $40,000, he is regarded as a person of
some importance until by an unfortunate combination of circumstances
his fortune shrinks to a few hundreds. He leaves Plympton village to
seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an important mission to
California, around which center the most exciting incidents of his
young career. Some of his adventures in the far west are so startling
that the reader will scarcely close the book until the last page shall
have been reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger’s most fascinating
style, and is bound to please the very large class of boys who regard
this popular author as a prime favorite.
=Maori and Settler=: A Story of the New Zealand War. By +G. A. Henty+.
With full-page Illustrations by +Alfred Pearse+. 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
The Renshaws emigrate to New Zealand during the period of the war
with the natives. Wilfrid, a strong, self-reliant, courageous lad, is
the mainstay of the household. He has for his friend Mr. Atherton, a
botanist and naturalist of herculean strength and unfailing nerve and
humor. In the adventures among the Maoris, there are many breathless
moments in which the odds seem hopelessly against the party, but they
succeed in establishing themselves happily in one of the pleasant New
Zealand valleys.
“Brimful of adventure, of humorous and interesting conversation, and
vivid pictures of colonial life.”--_Schoolmaster._
=Julian Mortimer=: A Brave Boy’s Struggle for Home and Fortune. By
+Harry Castlemon+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Here is a story that will warm every boy’s heart. There is mystery
enough to keep any lad’s imagination wound up to the highest pitch.
The scene of the story lies west of the Mississippi River, in the days
when emigrants made their perilous way across the great plains to the
land of gold. One of the startling features of the book is the attack
upon the wagon train by a large party of Indians. Our hero is a lad
of uncommon nerve and pluck, a brave young American in every sense of
the word. He enlists and holds the reader’s sympathy from the outset.
Surrounded by an unknown and constant peril, and assisted by the
unswerving fidelity of a stalwart trapper, a real rough diamond, our
hero achieves the most happy results. Harry Castlemon has written many
entertaining stories for boys, and it would seem almost superfluous to
say anything in his praise, for the youth of America regard him as a
favorite author.
“=Carrots=:” Just a Little Boy. By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With
Illustrations by +Walter Crane+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our
good fortune to meet with for some time. Carrots and his sister are
delightful little beings, whom to read about is at once to become
very fond of.”--_Examiner._
“A genuine children’s book; we’ve seen ’em seize it, and read it
greedily. Children are first-rate critics, and thoroughly appreciate
Walter Crane’s illustrations.”--_Punch._
=Mopsa the Fairy.= By +Jean Ingelow+. With Eight page Illustrations.
12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“Mrs. Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all living
writers for children, and ‘Mopsa’ alone ought to give her a kind of
pre-emptive right to the love and gratitude of our young folks. It
requires genius to conceive a purely imaginary work which must of
necessity deal with the supernatural, without running into a mere
riot of fantastic absurdity; but genius Miss Ingelow has and the
story of ‘Jack’ is as careless and joyous, but as delicate, as a
picture of childhood.”--_Eclectic._
=A Jaunt Through Java=: The Story of a Journey to the Sacred Mountain.
By +Edward S. Ellis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The central interest of this story is found in the thrilling adventures
of two cousins, Hermon and Eustace Hadley, on their trip across the
island of Java, from Samarang to the Sacred Mountain. In a land where
the Royal Bengal tiger runs at large; where the rhinoceros and other
fierce beasts are to be met with at unexpected moments; it is but
natural that the heroes of this book should have a lively experience.
Hermon not only distinguishes himself by killing a full-grown tiger
at short range, but meets with the most startling adventure of the
journey. There is much in this narrative to instruct as well as
entertain the reader, and so deftly has Mr. Ellis used his material
that there is not a dull page in the book. The two heroes are brave,
manly young fellows, bubbling over with boyish independence. They cope
with the many difficulties that arise during the trip in a fearless way
that is bound to win the admiration of every lad who is so fortunate as
to read their adventures.
=Wrecked on Spider Island=; or, How Ned Rogers Found the Treasure. By
+James Otis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
A “down-east” plucky lad who ships as cabin boy, not from love of
adventure, but because it is the only course remaining by which he
can gain a livelihood. While in his bunk, seasick, Ned Rogers hears
the captain and mate discussing their plans for the willful wreck of
the brig in order to gain the insurance. Once it is known he is in
possession of the secret the captain maroons him on Spider Island,
explaining to the crew that the boy is afflicted with leprosy. While
thus involuntarily playing the part of a Crusoe, Ned discovers a wreck
submerged in the sand, and overhauling the timbers for the purpose
of gathering material with which to build a hut finds a considerable
amount of treasure. Raising the wreck; a voyage to Havana under sail;
shipping there a crew and running for Savannah; the attempt of the crew
to seize the little craft after learning of the treasure on board, and,
as a matter of course, the successful ending of the journey, all serve
to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most captious boy
could desire.
=Geoff and Jim=: A Story of School Life. By +Ismay Thorn+. Illustrated
by +A. G. Walker+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“This is a prettily told story of the life spent by two motherless
bairns at a small preparatory school. Both Geoff and Jim are very
lovable characters, only Jim is the more so; and the scrapes he gets
into and the trials he endures will, no doubt, interest a large
circle of young readers.”--_Church Times._
“This is a capital children’s story, the characters well portrayed,
and the book tastefully bound and well illustrated.”--_Schoolmaster._
“The story can be heartily recommended as a present for
boys.”--_Standard._
=The Castaways=; or, On the Florida Reefs. By +James Otis+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
This tale smacks of the salt sea. It is just the kind of story that
the majority of boys yearn for. From the moment that the Sea Queen
dispenses with the services of the tug in lower New York bay till the
breeze leaves her becalmed off the coast of Florida, one can almost
hear the whistle of the wind through her rigging, the creak of her
straining cordage as she heels to the leeward, and feel her rise to
the snow-capped waves which her sharp bow cuts into twin streaks of
foam. Off Marquesas Keys she floats in a dead calm. Ben Clark, the hero
of the story, and Jake, the cook, spy a turtle asleep upon the glassy
surface of the water. They determine to capture him, and take a boat
for that purpose, and just as they succeed in catching him a thick fog
cuts them off from the vessel, and then their troubles begin. They
take refuge on board a drifting hulk, a storm arises and they are cast
ashore upon a low sandy key. Their adventures from this point cannot
fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young people Mr. Otis is a
prime favorite. His style is captivating, and never for a moment does
he allow the interest to flag. In “The Castaways” he is at his best.
=Tom Thatcher’s Fortune.= By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
Like all of Mr. Alger’s heroes, Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious,
unselfish boy. He supports his mother and sister on meager wages earned
as a shoe-pegger in John Simpson’s factory. The story begins with Tom’s
discharge from the factory, because Mr. Simpson felt annoyed with the
lad for interrogating him too closely about his missing father. A few
days afterward Tom learns that which induces him to start overland
for California with the view of probing the family mystery. He meets
with many adventures. Ultimately he returns to his native village,
bringing consternation to the soul of John Simpson, who only escapes
the consequences of his villainy by making full restitution to the
man whose friendship he had betrayed. The story is told in that
entertaining way which has made Mr. Alger’s name a household word in so
many homes.
=Birdie=: A Tale of Child Life. By +H. L. Childe-Pemberton+.
Illustrated by +H. W. Rainey+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it
that makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout
of children at play which charmed his earlier years.”--_New York
Express._
=Popular Fairy Tales.= By the +Brothers Grimm+. Profusely Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“From first to last, almost without exception, these stories are
delightful.”--_Athenæum._
=With Lafayette at Yorktown=: A Story of How Two Boys Joined the
Continental Army. By +James Otis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The two boys are from Portsmouth, N. H., and are introduced in August,
1781, when on the point of leaving home to enlist in Col. Scammell’s
regiment, then stationed near New York City. Their method or traveling
is on horseback, and the author has given an interesting account of
what was expected from boys in the Colonial days. The lads, after no
slight amount of adventure, are sent as messengers--not soldiers--into
the south to find the troops under Lafayette. Once with that youthful
general they are given employment as spies, and enter the British
camp, bringing away valuable information. The pictures of camp-life
are carefully drawn, and the portrayal of Lafayette’s character is
thoroughly well done. The story is wholesome in tone, as are all of Mr.
Otis’ works. There is no lack of exciting incident which the youthful
reader craves, but it is healthful excitement brimming with facts which
every boy should be familiar with, and while the reader is following
the adventures of Ben Jaffreys and Ned Allen he is acquiring a fund of
historical lore which will remain in his memory long after that which
he has memorized from text-books has been forgotten.
=Lost in the Cañon=: Sam Willett’s Adventures on the Great Colorado.
By +Alfred R. Calhoun+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
This story hinges on a fortune left to Sam Willett, the hero, and the
fact that it will pass to a disreputable relative if the lad dies
before he shall have reached his majority. The Vigilance Committee of
Hurley’s Gulch arrest Sam’s father and an associate for the crime of
murder. Their lives depend on the production of the receipt given for
money paid. This is in Sam’s possession at the camp on the other side
of the cañon. A messenger is dispatched to get it. He reaches the lad
in the midst of a fearful storm which floods the cañon. His father’s
peril urges Sam to action. A raft is built on which the boy and his
friends essay to cross the torrent. They fail to do so, and a desperate
trip down the stream ensues. How the party finally escape from the
horrors of their situation and Sam reaches Hurley’s Gulch in the very
nick of time, is described in a graphic style that stamps Mr. Calhoun
as a master of his art.
=Jack=: A Topsy Turvy Story. By +C. M. Crawley-Boevey+. With upward
of Thirty Illustrations by +H. J. A. Miles+. 12mo, cloth, price 75
cents.
“The illustrations deserve particular mention, as they add largely to
the interest of this amusing volume for children. Jack falls asleep
with his mind full of the subject of the fishpond, and is very much
surprised presently to find himself an inhabitant of Waterworld,
where he goes though wonderful and edifying adventures. A handsome
and pleasant book.”--_Literary World._
=Search for the Silver City=: A Tale of Adventure in Yucatan. By
+James Otis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Two American lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam
yacht Day Dream for a short summer cruise to the tropics. Homeward
bound the yacht is destroyed by fire. All hands take to the boats, but
during the night the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They come
across a young American named Cummings, who entertains them with the
story of the wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians.
Cummings proposes with the aid of a faithful Indian ally to brave the
perils of the swamp and carry off a number of the golden images from
the temples. Pursued with relentless vigor for days their situation is
desperate. At last their escape is effected in an astonishing manner.
Mr. Otis has built his story on an historical foundation. It is so full
of exciting incidents that the reader is quite carried away with the
novelty and realism of the narrative.
=Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy.= By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+ 12mo, cloth,
price $1.00.
Thrown upon his own resources Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely
determines to make a living for himself and his foster-sister Grace.
Going to New York he obtains a situation as cash boy in a dry goods
store. He renders a service to a wealthy old gentleman named Wharton,
who takes a fancy to the lad. Frank, after losing his place as cash
boy, is enticed by an enemy to a lonesome part of New Jersey and held
a prisoner. This move recoils upon the plotter, for it leads to a
clue that enables the lad to establish his real identity. Mr. Alger’s
stories are not only unusually interesting, but they convey a useful
lesson of pluck and manly independence.
=Budd Boyd’s Triumph=; or, the Boy Firm of Fox Island. By +William P.
Chipman+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The scene of this story is laid on the upper part of Narragansett
Bay, and the leading incidents have a strong salt water flavor. Owing
to the conviction of his father for forgery and theft, Budd Boyd is
compelled to leave his home and strike out for himself. Chance brings
Budd in contact with Judd Floyd. The two boys, being ambitious and
clear sighted, form a partnership to catch and sell fish. The scheme
is successfully launched, but the unexpected appearance on the scene
of Thomas Bagsley, the man whom Budd believes guilty of the crimes
attributed to his father, leads to several disagreeable complications
that nearly caused the lad’s ruin. His pluck and good sense, however,
carry him through his troubles. In following the career of the boy firm
of Boyd & Floyd, the youthful reader will find a useful lesson--that
industry and perseverance are bound to lead to ultimate success.
=The Errand Boy=; or, How Phil Brent Won Success. By +Horatio Alger,
Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The career of “The Errand Boy” embraces the city adventures of a smart
country lad who at an early age was abandoned by his father. Philip
was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper named Brent. The death of
Mrs. Brent paved the way for the hero’s subsequent troubles. Accident
introduces him to the notice of a retired merchant in New York, who
not only secures him the situation of errand boy but thereafter stands
as his friend. An unexpected turn of fortune’s wheel, however, brings
Philip and his father together. In “The Errand Boy” Philip Brent is
possessed of the same sterling qualities so conspicuous in all of the
previous creations of this delightful writer for our youth.
=The Slate Picker=: The Story of a Boy’s Life in the Coal Mines. By
+Harry Prentice+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
This is a story of a boy’s life in the coal mines of Pennsylvania.
There are many thrilling situations, notably that of Ben Burton’s
leap into the “lion’s mouth”--the yawning shute in the breakers--to
escape a beating at the hands of the savage Spilkins, the overseer.
Gracie Gordon is a little angel in rags, Terence O’Dowd is a manly,
sympathetic lad, and Enoch Evans, the miner-poet, is a big-hearted,
honest fellow, a true friend to all whose burdens seem too heavy for
them to bear. Ben Burton, the hero, had a hard road to travel, but
by grit and energy he advanced step by step until he found himself
called upon to fill the position of chief engineer of the Kohinoor Coal
Company.
=A Runaway Brig=; or, An Accidental Cruise. By +James Otis+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
“A Runaway Brig” is a sea tale, pure and simple, and that’s where it
strikes a boy’s fancy. The reader can look out upon the wide shimmering
sea as it flashes back the sunlight, and imagine himself afloat with
Harry Vandyne, Walter Morse, Jim Libby and that old shell-back, Bob
Brace, on the brig Bonita, which lands on one of the Bahama keys.
Finally three strangers steal the craft, leaving the rightful owners
to shift for themselves aboard a broken-down tug. The boys discover
a mysterious document which enables them to find a buried treasure,
then a storm comes on and the tug is stranded. At last a yacht comes
in sight and the party with the treasure is taken off the lonely key.
The most exacting youth is sure to be fascinated with this entertaining
story.
=Fairy Tales and Stories.= By +Hans Christian Andersen+. Profusely
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“If I were asked to select a child’s library I should name these
three volumes ‘English,’ ‘Celtic,’ and ‘Indian Fairy Tales,’ with
Grimm and Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales.”--_Independent._
=The Island Treasure=; or, Harry Darrel’s Fortune. By +Frank H.
Converse+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Harry Darrel, an orphan, having received a nautical training on a
school-ship, is bent on going to sea with a boyish acquaintance named
Dan Plunket. A runaway horse changes his prospects. Harry saves Dr.
Gregg from drowning and the doctor presents his preserver with a bit of
property known as Gregg’s Island, and makes the lad sailing-master of
his sloop yacht. A piratical hoard is supposed to be hidden somewhere
on the island. After much search and many thwarted plans, at last Dan
discovers the treasure and is the means of finding Harry’s father. Mr.
Converse’s stories possess a charm of their own which is appreciated by
lads who delight in good healthy tales that smack of salt water.
=The Boy Explorers=: The Adventures of Two Boys in Alaska. By +Harry
Prentice+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Two boys, Raymond and Spencer Manning, travel from San Francisco to
Alaska to join their father in search of their uncle, who, it is
believed, was captured and detained by the inhabitants of a place
called the “Heart of Alaska.” On their arrival at Sitka the boys with
an Indian guide set off across the mountains. The trip is fraught
with perils that test the lads’ courage to the utmost. Reaching the
Yukon River they build a raft and float down the stream, entering the
Mysterious River, from which they barely escape with their lives, only
to be captured by natives of the Heart of Alaska. All through their
exciting adventures the lads demonstrate what can be accomplished
by pluck and resolution, and their experience makes one of the most
interesting tales ever written.
=The Treasure Finders=: A Boy’s Adventures in Nicaragua. By +James
Otis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Roy and Dean Coloney, with their guide Tongla, leave their father’s
indigo plantation to visit the wonderful ruins of an ancient city. The
boys eagerly explore the dismantled temples of an extinct race and
discover three golden images cunningly hidden away. They escape with
the greatest difficulty; by taking advantage of a festive gathering
they seize a canoe and fly down the river. Eventually they reach safety
with their golden prizes. Mr. Otis is the prince of story tellers, for
he handles his material with consummate skill. We doubt if he has ever
written a more entertaining story than “The Treasure Finders.”
=Household Fairy Tales.= By the +Brothers Grimm+. Profusely
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“As a collection of fairy tales to delight children of all ages this
work ranks second to none.”--_Daily Graphic._
=Dan the Newsboy.= By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The reader is introduced to Dan Mordaunt and his mother living in a
poor tenement, and the lad is pluckily trying to make ends meet by
selling papers in the streets of New York. A little heiress of six
years is confided to the care of the Mordaunts. At the same time the
lad obtains a position in a wholesale house. He soon demonstrates
how valuable he is to the firm by detecting the bookkeeper in a bold
attempt to rob his employers. The child is kidnaped and Dan tracks the
child to the house where she is hidden, and rescues her. The wealthy
aunt of the little heiress is so delighted with Dan’s courage and many
good qualities that she adopts him as her heir, and the conclusion of
the book leaves the hero on the high road to every earthly desire.
=Tony the Hero=: A Brave Boy’s Adventure with a Tramp. By +Horatio
Alger, Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, is under the control of
Rudolph Rugg, a thorough rascal, shiftless and lazy, spending his time
tramping about the country. After much abuse Tony runs away and gets a
job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a large estate
in England, and certain persons find it necessary to produce proof of
the lad’s death. Rudolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throws
him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided
for him, and by a brave act makes a rich friend, with whom he goes
to England, where he secures his rights and is prosperous. The fact
that Mr. Alger is the author of this entertaining book will at once
recommend it to all juvenile readers.
=A Young Hero=; or, Fighting to Win. By +Edward S. Ellis+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
This story tells how a valuable solid silver service was stolen from
the Misses Perkinpine, two very old and simple minded ladies. Fred
Sheldon, the hero of this story and a friend of the old ladies,
undertakes to discover the thieves and have them arrested. After much
time spent in detective work he succeeds in discovering the silver
plate and winning the reward for its restoration. During the narrative
a circus comes to town and a thrilling account of the escape of the
lion from its cage, with its recapture, is told in Mr. Ellis’ most
fascinating style. Every boy will be glad to read this delightful book.
=The Days of Bruce=: A Story from Scottish History. By +Grace
Aguilar+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“There is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all
of Grace Aguilar’s stories which cannot fail to win the interest and
admiration of every lover of good reading.”--_Boston Beacon._
=Tom the Bootblack=; or, The Road to Success. By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the bootblack. He was not at all
ashamed of his humble calling, though always on the lookout to better
himself. His guardian, old Jacob Morton, died, leaving him a small sum
of money and a written confession that Tom, instead of being of humble
origin, was the son and heir of a deceased Western merchant, and had
been defrauded out of his just rights by an unscrupulous uncle. The
lad started for Cincinnati to look up his heritage. But three years
passed away before he obtained his first clue. Mr. Grey, the uncle, did
not hesitate to employ a ruffian to kill the lad. The plan failed, and
Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a comfortable fortune.
This is one of Mr. Alger’s best stories.
=Captured by Zulus=: A story of Trapping in Africa. By +Harry
Prentice+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
This story details the adventures of two lads. Dick Elsworth and Bob
Harvey, in the wilds of South Africa, for the purpose of obtaining a
supply of zoological curiosities. By stratagem the Zulus capture Dick
and Bob and take them to their principal kraal or village. The lads
escape death by digging their way out of the prison hut by night. They
are pursued, and after a rough experience the boys eventually rejoin
the expedition and take part in several wild animal hunts. The Zulus
finally give up pursuit and the expedition arrives at the coast without
further trouble. Mr. Prentice has a delightful method of blending
fact with fiction. He tells exactly how wild-beast collectors secure
specimens on their native stamping grounds, and these descriptions make
very entertaining reading.
=Tom the Ready=; or, Up from the Lowest. By +Randolph Hill+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
This is a dramatic narrative of the unaided rise of a fearless,
ambitious boy from the lowest round of fortune’s ladder--the gate of
the poorhouse--to wealth and the governorship of his native State.
Thomas Seacomb begins life with a purpose. While yet a schoolboy he
conceives and presents to the world the germ of the Overland Express
Co. At the very outset of his career jealousy and craft seek to
blast his promising future. Later he sets out to obtain a charter
for a railroad line in connection with the express business. Now he
realizes what it is to match himself against capital. Yet he wins
and the railroad is built. Only an uncommon nature like Tom’s could
successfully oppose such a combine. How he manages to win the battle is
told by Mr. Hill in a masterful way that thrills the reader and holds
his attention and sympathy to the end.
=Roy Gilbert’s Search=: A Tale of the Great Lakes. By +Wm. P.
Chipman+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
A deep mystery hangs over the parentage of Roy Gilbert. He arranges
with two schoolmates to make a tour of the Great Lakes on a steam
launch. The three boys leave Erie on the launch and visit many points
of interest on the lakes. Soon afterward the lad is conspicuous in the
rescue of an elderly gentleman and a lady from a sinking yacht. Later
on the cruise of the launch is brought to a disastrous termination
and the boys narrowly escape with their lives. The hero is a manly,
self-reliant boy, whose adventures will be followed with interest.
=The Young Scout=; The Story of a West Point Lieutenant. By +Edward S.
Ellis+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The crafty Apache chief Geronimo but a few years ago was the most
terrible scourge of the southwest border. The author has woven, in a
tale of thrilling interest, all the incidents of Geronimo’s last raid.
The hero is Lieutenant James Decker, a recent graduate of West Point.
Ambitious to distinguish himself so as to win well-deserved promotion,
the young man takes many a desperate chance against the enemy and
on more than one occasion narrowly escapes with his life. The story
naturally abounds in thrilling situations, and being historically
correct, it is reasonable to believe it will find great favor with the
boys. In our opinion Mr. Ellis is the best writer of Indian stories now
before the public.
=Adrift in the Wilds=: The Adventures of Two Shipwrecked Boys. By
+Edward S. Ellis+. 12mo, cloth, price, $1.00.
Elwood Brandon and Howard Lawrence, cousins and schoolmates,
accompanied by a lively Irishman called O’Rooney, are en route for
San Francisco. Off the coast of California the steamer takes fire.
The two boys and their companion reach the shore with several of the
passengers. While O’Rooney and the lads are absent inspecting the
neighborhood O’Rooney has an exciting experience and young Brandon
becomes separated from his party. He is captured by hostile Indians,
but is rescued by an Indian whom the lads had assisted. This is a very
entertaining narrative of Southern California in the days immediately
preceding the construction of the Pacific railroads. Mr. Ellis seems to
be particularly happy in this line of fiction, and the present story is
fully as entertaining as anything he has ever written.
=The Red Fairy Book.= Edited by +Andrew Lang+. Profusely Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“A gift-book that will charm any child, and all older folk who have
been fortunate enough to retain their taste for the old nursery
stories.”--_Literary World._
=The Boy Cruisers=; or, Paddling in Florida. By +St. George
Rathborne+. 12mo, cloth, price, $1.00.
Boys who like an admixture of sport and adventure will find this book
just to their taste. We promise them that they will not go to sleep
over the rattling experiences of Andrew George and Roland Carter, who
start on a canoe trip along the Gulf coast, from Key West to Tampa,
Florida. Their first adventure is with a pair of rascals who steal
their boats. Next they run into a gale in the Gulf and have a lively
experience while it lasts. After that they have a lively time with
alligators and divers varieties of the finny tribe. Andrew gets into
trouble with a band of Seminole Indians and gets away without having
his scalp raised. After this there is no lack of fun till they reach
their destination. That Mr. Rathborne knows just how to interest the
boys is apparent at a glance, and lads who are in search of a rare
treat will do well to read this entertaining story.
=Guy Harris=: The Runaway. By +Harry Castlemon+. 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
Guy Harris lived in a small city on the shore of one of the Great
Lakes. His head became filled with quixotic notions of going West to
hunt grizzlies, in fact, Indians. He is persuaded to go to sea, and
gets a glimpse of the rough side of life in a sailor’s boarding house.
He ships on a vessel and for five months leads a hard life. He deserts
his ship at San Francisco and starts out to become a backwoodsman, but
rough experiences soon cure him of all desire to be a hunter. At St.
Louis he becomes a clerk and for a time he yields to the temptations of
a great city. The book will not only interest boys generally on account
of its graphic style, but will put many facts before their eyes in a
new light. This is one of Castlemon’s most attractive stories.
=The Train Boy.= By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother
and sister by selling books and papers on one of the trains running
between Chicago and Milwaukee. He detects a young man named Luke Denton
in the act of picking the pocket of a young lady, and also incurs the
enmity of his brother Stephen, a worthless fellow. Luke and Stephen
plot to ruin Paul, but their plans are frustrated. In a railway
accident many passengers are killed, but Paul is fortunate enough to
assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude takes him into his
employ. Paul is sent to manage a mine in Custer City and executes his
commission with tact and judgment and is well started on the road to
business prominence. This is one of Mr. Alger’s most attractive stories
and is sure to please all readers.
=Joe’s Luck=: A Boy’s Adventures in California. By +Horatio Alger,
Jr.+ 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Without a doubt Joe Mason was a lucky boy, but he deserved the golden
chances that fell to his lot, for he had the pluck and ambition to push
himself to the front. Joe had but one dollar in the world when he stood
despondently on the California Mail Steamship Co.’s dock in New York
watching the preparations incident to the departure of the steamer.
The same dollar was still Joe’s entire capital when he landed in the
bustling town of tents and one-story cabins--the San Francisco of ’51,
and inside of the week the boy was proprietor of a small restaurant
earning a comfortable profit. The story is chock full of stirring
incidents, while the amusing situations are furnished by Joshua
Bickford, from Pumpkin Hollow, and the fellow who modestly styles
himself the “Rip-tail Roarer, from Pike Co., Missouri.” Mr. Alger never
writes a poor book, and “Joe’s Luck” is certainly one of his best.
=Three Bright Girls=: A Story of Chance and Mischance. By +Annie E.
Armstrong+. With full page Illustrations by +W. Parkinson+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
By a sudden turn of fortune’s wheel the three heroines of this story
are brought down from a household of lavish comfort to meet the
incessant cares and worries of those who have to eke out a very limited
income. And the charm of the story lies in the cheery helpfulness of
spirit developed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the
author finds a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts.
“The story is charmingly told, and the book can be warmly recommended
as a present for girls.”--_Standard._
=Giannetta=: A Girl’s Story of Herself. By +Rosa Mulholland+. With
full-page Illustrations by +Lockhart Bogle+. 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
The daughter of a gentleman, who had married a poor Swiss girl, was
stolen as an infant by some of her mother’s relatives. The child having
died, they afterward for the sake of gain substitute another child for
it, and the changeling, after becoming a clever modeler of clay images,
is suddenly transferred to the position of a rich heiress. She develops
into a good and accomplished woman, and though the imposture of her
early friends is finally discovered, she has gained too much love and
devotion to be really a sufferer by the surrender of her estates.
“Extremely well told and full of interest. Giannetta is a true
heroine--warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women
nowadays are, largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The
illustrations are unusually good. One of the most attractive gift
books of the season.”--_The Academy._
=Margery Merton’s Girlhood.= By +Alice Corkran+. With full-page
Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her
father--an officer in India--to the care of an elderly aunt residing
near Paris. The accounts of the various persons who have an after
influence on the story, the school companions of Margery, the sisters
of the Conventual College of Art, the professor, and the peasantry of
Fontainebleau, are singularly vivid. There is a subtle attraction about
the book which will make it a great favorite with thoughtful girls.
“Another book for girls we can warmly commend. There is a delightful
piquancy in the experiences and trials of a young English girl who
studies painting in Paris.”--_Saturday Review._
=Under False Colors=: A Story from Two Girls’ Lives. By +Sarah
Doudney+. With full-page Illustrations by +G. G. Kilburne+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
A story which has in it so strong a dramatic element that it will
attract readers of all ages and of either sex. The incidents of the
plot, arising from the thoughtless indulgence of a deceptive freak,
are exceedingly natural, and the keen interest of the narrative is
sustained from beginning to end.
“Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned
stories--pure in style, original in conception, and with skillfully
wrought out plots; but we have seen nothing equal in dramatic energy
to this book.”--_Christian Leader._
=Down the Snow Stairs=; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By +Alice
Corkran+. With Illustrations by +Gordon Browne+. 12mo, cloth, price
75 cents.
This is a remarkable story: full of vivid fancy and quaint originality.
In its most fantastic imaginings it carries with it a sense of reality,
and derives a singular attraction from that combination of simplicity,
originality, and subtle humor, which is so much appreciated by lively
and thoughtful children. Children of a larger growth will also be
deeply interested in Kitty’s strange journey, and her wonderful
experiences.
“Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our
table this one stands out _facile princeps_--a gem of the first
water, bearing upon every one of its pages the signet mark of
genius.... All is told with such simplicity and perfect naturalness
that the dream appears to be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little
Pilgrim’s Progress.”--_Christian Leader._
=The Tapestry Room=: A Child’s Romance. By +Mrs. Molesworth+.
Illustrated by +Walter Crane+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of
children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming
juvenile which will delight the young people.”--_Athenæum_, London.
=Little Miss Peggy=: Only a Nursery Story. By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With
Illustrations by +Walter Crane+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
Mrs. Molesworth’s children are finished studies. She is never
sentimental, but writes common sense in a straightforward manner. A
joyous earnest spirit pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded.
She loves them with her whole heart, while she lays bare their little
minds, and expresses their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their
inward struggles, their conception of duty, and their instinctive
knowledge of the right and wrong of things. She knows their characters,
she understands their wants, and she desires to help them.
=Polly=: A New Fashioned Girl. By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated, 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a writer
of stories for young girls. Her characters are living beings of flesh
and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials and
crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest
and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high moral
purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are
rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons.
=Rosy.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. Illustrated by +Walter Crane+. 12mo,
cloth, price 75 cents.
Mrs. Molesworth, considering the quality and quantity of her labors,
is the best story-teller for children England has yet known. This is a
bold statement and requires substantiation. Mrs. Molesworth, during the
last six years, has never failed to occupy a prominent place among the
juvenile writers of the season.
“A very pretty story.... The writer knows children and their ways
well.... The illustrations are exceedingly well drawn.”--_Spectator._
=Little Sunshine’s Holiday=: A Picture from Life. By +Miss Mulock+.
Illustrated by +Walter Crane+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“This is a pretty narrative of baby life, describing the simple
doings and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child
nearly three years old.”--_Pall Mall Gazette._
“Will be delightful to those who have nurseries peopled by ‘Little
Sunshines’ of their own.”--_Athenæum._
=Esther=: A Book for Girls. By +Rosa N. Carey+. Illustrated, 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
“She inspires her readers simply by bringing them in contact with the
characters, who are in themselves inspiring. Her simple stories are
woven in order to give her an opportunity to describe her characters
by their own conduct in seasons of trial.”--_Chicago Times._
=Sweet Content.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. Illustrated by +W. Rainey+.
12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“It seems to me not at all easier to draw a lifelike child than
to draw a lifelike man or woman: Shakespeare and Webster were the
only two men of their age who could do it with perfect delicacy and
success. Our own age is more fortunate, on this single score at
least, having a larger and far nobler proportion of female writers;
among whom, since the death of George Eliot, there is none left whose
touch is so exquisite and masterly, whose love is so thoroughly
according to knowledge, whose bright and sweet invention is so
fruitful, so truthful, or so delightful as Mrs. Molesworth.”--+A. C.
Swinburne.+
=One of a Covey.= By the Author of “Honor Bright,” “Miss Toosey’s
Mission.” With Numerous Illustrations by +H. J. A. Miles+. 12mo,
cloth, price 75 cents.
“Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up
readers may enjoy it as much as children. This ‘Covey’ consists of
the twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge, out of which is
chosen a little girl to be adopted by a spoilt, fine lady.... It is
one of the best books of the season.”--_Guardian._
“We have rarely read a story for boys and girls with greater
pleasure. One of the chief characters would not have disgraced
Dickens’ pen.”--_Literary World._
=The Little Princess of Tower Hill.= By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty
as a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more
attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh pages
and fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it--which is
much better than crying for it--it is a book that can be read with
pleasure even by older boys and girls.”--_Boston Advertiser._
=Honor Bright=; or, The Four-Leaved Shamrock. By the Author of “One
of a Covey,” “Miss Toosey’s Mission,” etc., etc. With full-page
Illustrations, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“It requires a special talent to describe the sayings and doings
of children, and the author of ‘Honor Bright,’ ‘One of a Covey,’
possesses that talent in no small degree.”--_Literary Churchman._
“A cheery, sensible, and healthy tale.”--_The Times._
=The Cuckoo Clock.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With Illustrations by
+Walter Crane+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“A beautiful little story. It will be read with delight by every
child into whose hands it is placed.... The author deserves all the
praise that has been, is, and will be bestowed on ‘The Cuckoo Clock.’
Children’s stories are plentiful, but one like this is not to be met
with every day.”--_Pall Mall Gazette._
=Girl Neighbors=; or, The Old Fashion and the New. By +Sarah Tytler+.
With full-page Illustrations by +C. T. Garland+. 12mo, cloth, price
75 cents.
“One of the most effective and quietly humorous of Miss Tytler’s
stories. ‘Girl Neighbors’ is a pleasant comedy, not so much of errors
as of prejudices got rid of, very healthy, very agreeable, and very
well written.”--_Spectator._
=The Little Lame Prince.= By +Miss Mulock+. Illustrated, cloth, price
75 cents.
“No sweeter--that is the proper word--Christmas story for the little
folks could easily be found, and it is as delightful for older
readers as well. There is a moral to it which the reader can find out
for himself, if he chooses to think.”--_Herald_, Cleveland.
=The Adventures of a Brownie.= As Told to my Child. By +Miss Mulock+.
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“The author of this delightful little book leaves it in doubt all
through whether there actually is such a creature in existence as a
Brownie, but she makes us hope that there might be.”--_Standard_,
Chicago.
=Only a Girl=: A Story of a Quiet Life. A Tale of Brittany. Adapted
from the French by +C. A. Jones+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price
$1.00.
“We can thoroughly recommend this brightly written and homely
narrative.”--_Saturday Review._
=Little Rosebud=; or, Things Will Take a Turn. By +Beatrice Harraden+.
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“A most delightful little book.... Miss Harraden is so bright, so
healthy, and so natural withal that the book ought, as a matter of
duty, to be added to every girl’s library in the land.”--_Boston
Transcript._
=Little Miss Joy.= By +Emma Marshall+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price
75 cents.
“A very pleasant and instructive story, told by a very charming
writer in such an attractive way as to win favor among its young
readers. The illustrations add to the beauty of the book.”--_Utica
Herald._
=Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe.= By +Charlotte M. Yonge+. Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for
pleasant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the
subtlety with which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to
children, and perhaps to their seniors as well.”--_The Spectator._
=Joan’s Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere.= By +Alice
Corkran+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that
they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented.
Altogether this is an excellent story for girls.”--_Saturday Review._
=Count Up the Sunny Days=: A Story for Boys and Girls. By +C. A.
Jones+. With full-page Illustrations, 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“An unusually good children’s story.”--_Glasgow Herald._
=Sue and I.= By +Mrs. O’Reilly+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price 75
cents.
“A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as
fun.”--_Athenæum._
=Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.= By +Lewis Carroll+. With 42
Illustrations by +John Tenniel+. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.
“From first to last, almost without exception, this story is
delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the
story.”--_New York Express._
=Celtic Fairy Tales.= Edited by +Joseph Jacobs+. Illustrated by +J. D.
Batten+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“A stock of delightful little narratives gathered chiefly from the
Celtic-speaking peasants of Ireland.”--_Daily Telegraph._
“A perfectly lovely book. And oh! the wonderful pictures inside.
Get this book if you can; it is capital, all through.”--_Pall Mall
Budget._
=English Fairy Tales.= Edited by +Joseph Jacobs+. Illustrated by +J.
D. Batten+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“The tales are simply delightful. No amount of description can do
them justice. The only way is to read the book through from cover to
cover.”--_Magazine and Book Review._
“The book is intended to correspond to ‘Grimm’s Fairy Tales,’ and it
must be allowed that its pages fairly rival in interest those of the
well-known repository of folk-lore.”--_Sydney Morning Herald._
=Indian Fairy Tales.= Edited by +Joseph Jacobs+. Illustrated by +J. D.
Batten+. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“Mr. Jacobs brings home to us in a clear and intelligible manner the
enormous influence which ‘Indian Fairy Tales’ have had upon European
literature of the kind.”--_Gloucester Journal._
“The present combination will be welcomed not alone by the little
ones for whom it is specially combined, but also by children of
larger growth and added years.”--_Daily Telegraph._
=The Blue Fairy Book.= Edited by +Andrew Lang+. Profusely Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“The tales are simply delightful. No amount of description can do
them justice. The only way is to read the book through from cover to
cover.”--_Magazine and Book Review._
=The Green Fairy Book.= Edited by +Andrew Lang+. Profusely
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“The most delightful book of fairy tales, taking form and contents
together, ever presented to children.”--+E. S. Hartland+, in
_Folk-Lore_.
=The Yellow Fairy Book.= Edited by +Andrew Lang+. Profusely
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“As a collection of fairy tales to delight children of all ages ranks
second to none.”--_Daily Graphic_ (with illustrations).
=Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.= By +Lewis
Carroll+. With 50 Illustrations by +John Tenniel+.
“A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely
funny both in text and illustrations.”--_Boston Express._
=The Heir of Redclyffe.= By +Charlotte M. Yonge+. Illustrated, 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
“A narrative full of interest from first to last. It is told clearly
and in a straightforward manner and arrests the attention of the
reader at once, so that one feels afresh the unspeakable pathos of
the story to the end.”--_London Graphic._
=The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest.= By +Charlotte M. Yonge+. Illustrated,
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in
genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high
and noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be
so safely commended as hers.”--_Cleveland Times._
=A Sweet Girl Graduate.= By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth,
price $1.00.
“One of this popular author’s best. The characters are well imagined
and drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest
does not flag until the end too quickly comes.”--_Providence Journal._
=The Palace Beautiful=: A Story for Girls. By +L. T. Meade+.
Illustrated, cloth, 12mo, price $1.00.
“A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T.
Meade in this country will be delighted with the ‘Palace Beautiful’
for more reasons than one.”--_New York Recorder._
=A World of Girls=: The Story of a School. By +L. T. Meade+.
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It
will afford pure delight to her numerous readers.”--_Boston Home
Journal._
=The Lady of the Forest=: A Story for Girls. By +L. T. Meade+.
Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“This story is written in the author’s well-known, fresh and
easy style. All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this
well-written story. It is told with the author’s customary grace and
spirit.”--_Boston Times._
=At the Back of the North Wind.= By +George Macdonald+. Illustrated by
+George Groves+, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr.
Macdonald’s earlier work.... It is a sweet, earnest, and wholesome
fairy story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most
delightful volume for young readers.”--_Philadelphia Times._
=The Water Babies=: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By +Charles
Kingsley+. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
“The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in
his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water
in the luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a
poetical nature.”--_New York Tribune._
THE LITTLE MEN SERIES.
Uniform Cloth Binding. Profusely Illustrated.
PRICE 75 CENTS PER COPY.
This series of boys’ books have been selected from the writings
of a large number of popular authors of juvenile stories, and are
particularly adapted to interest and supply attractive reading for
young boys. The books are profusely illustrated, and any one seeking to
find a book to give a young boy cannot make a mistake by selecting from
the following list of titles.
[Illustration]
=Black Beauty.= The Autobiography of a Horse. By +Anna Sewell+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Carrots=: Just a Little Boy. By +Mrs. Molesworth+. Illustrated,
cloth, price 75 cents.
=Chunk, Fuskey and Snout.= A Story of Wild Pigs for Little People. By
+Gerald Young+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Daddy’s Boy.= By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Flat Iron for a Farthing, A.= The Story of an Only Son. By +Juliana
Horatia Ewing+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Flock of Four, A.= A Story for Boys and Girls. By +Ismay Thorn+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Geoff and Jim.= A Story of School Life. By +Ismay Thorn+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Jack=: A Topsy Turvy Story. By +C. M. Crawley-Boevey+. Illustrated,
cloth, price 75 cents.
=Jackanapes.= By +Juliana Horatia Ewing+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75
cents.
=Larry’s Luck.= By the author of “Miss Toosey’s Mission,” “Tom’s
Opinion.” Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Ivan’s Hero.= A Story of Child Life. By +Helen Milman+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Mopsa the Fairy.= A Fairy Story for Boys. By +Jean Ingelow+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=My Dog Plato=: His Adventures and Impressions. By +M. H. Cornwall
Legh+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Peter the Pilgrim.= The Story of a Boy and His Pet Rabbit. By +L. T.
Meade+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Prince Prigio, Adventures of.= By +Andrew Lang+. Illustrated, cloth,
price 75 cents.
=Robin’s Ride.= A Story for Children. By +Ellinor D. Adams+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Squib and His Friends.= A Story for Children. By +Ellen Everett
Green+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Tom’s Opinion.= The Story of a Boys’ School. By the author of “Miss
Toosey’s Mission.” Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=We and the World.= A Story for Boys. By +Juliana Horatia Ewing+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Wonder Book, A=: For Boys and Girls. Comprising Stories of Classical
Fables. By +Nathaniel Hawthorne+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75
cents.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 97 Reade Street, New York=.
THE LITTLE WOMEN SERIES.
Uniform Cloth Binding. Profusely Illustrated.
PRICE 75 CENTS PER COPY.
A series of most delightful stories for young girls. Selected from
the best known writers for children. These stories are narrated in a
simple and lively fashion and cannot but prove irresistible with the
little ones, while throughout the volumes there is a comprehension of
and sympathy with child thought and feeling that is almost as rare out
of books as in. These stories are sunny, interesting and thoroughly
winsome and wholesome.
[Illustration]
=Adventures of a Brownie=, As Told to My Child. By +Miss Mulock+.
Illustrated. Price 75 cents.
=Adventures in Toyland.= What the Marionette Told Molly. By +Edith
King Hall+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.= By +Lewis Carroll+. With 42
Illustrations by John Tenniel. Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Birdie.= A Tale of Child Life. By +H. L. Childe-Pemberton+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Count Up the Sunny Days.= A Story for Girls. By +C. A. Jones+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Cuckoo Clock, The.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With 7 Illustrations by
Walter Crane. Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Down the Snow Stairs=; or, From Good Night to Good Morning. By +Alice
Corkran+. With 60 Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price 75 cents.
=Joan’s Adventures.= At the North Pole and Elsewhere. By +Alice
Corkran+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Lame Prince=, and His Traveling Cloak. By +Miss Mulock+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe.= By +Charlotte M. Yonge+. Illustrated,
cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Miss Joy.= By +Emma Marshall+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75
cents.
=Little Miss Peggy.= Only a Nursery Story. By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With
13 Illustrations by Walter Crane. Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Princess of Tower Hill.= By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated, cloth,
price 75 cents.
=Little Rosebud=: or, Things Will Take a Turn. By +Beatrice Harraden+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Little Sunshine’s Holiday.= A Picture from Life. By +Miss Mulock+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=Mixed Pickles.= A Story for Girls. By +Mrs. E. M. Field+.
Illustrated, cloth, price 75 cents.
=One of a Covey.= By the author of “Honor Bright.” With 19
Illustrations by H. J. A. Miles. Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Rosy.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With 8 Illustrations by Walter Crane.
Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Sue and I.= By +Mrs. Robert O’Reilly+. Illustrated, cloth, price 75
cents.
=Sweet Content.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. With 20 Illustrations by W.
Rainey. Cloth, price 75 cents.
=Tapestry Room, The.= By +Mrs. Molesworth+. Illustrated, cloth, price
75 cents.
=Through the Looking-Glass=, and What Alice Found There. By +Lewis
Carroll+. With 50 Illustrations by John Tenniel. Cloth, price 75
cents.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 97 Reade Street, New York=.
The Fairy Library
A series of books composed wholly of Fairy Stories, compiled and edited
by various authors, comprising the fairy stories and folk tales of
various people. Each volume profusely illustrated and handsomely bound
in cloth ornamented in gold and colors.
PRICE $1.00 PER VOLUME.
[Illustration]
_=The Red Fairy Book=_, edited by +Andrew Lang+, with numerous
illustrations by H. J. Ford and Lancelot Speed, cloth, price $1.00.
_=The Blue Fairy Book=_, edited by +Andrew Lang+, with numerous
illustrations by H. J. Ford and G. P. Hood, cloth, price $1.00.
_=The Green Fairy Book=_, edited by +Andrew Lang+, with numerous
illustrations by H. J. Ford, cloth, price $1.00.
_=The Yellow Fairy Book=_, edited by +Andrew Lang+, with numerous
illustrations by H. J. Ford, cloth, price $1.00.
_=Celtic Fairy Tales=_, edited by +Joseph Jacobs+, profusely
illustrated by John D. Batten, cloth, price $1.00.
_=English Fairy Tales=_, edited by +Joseph Jacobs+, profusely
illustrated by John D. Batten, cloth, price $1.00.
_=Indian Fairy Tales=_, edited by +Joseph Jacobs+, profusely
illustrated by John D. Batten, cloth, price $1.00.
_=Andersen’s Fairy Tales=_, by +Hans Christian Andersen+, with many
illustrations by Cooper Edwards and others, cloth, price $1.00.
_=Grimm’s Household Fairy Tales=_, by the +Brothers Grimm+, with many
illustrations by Walter Crane and others, cloth, price $1.00.
_=Grimm’s Popular Fairy Tales=_, by the +Brothers Grimm+, with many
illustrations by Walter Crane and others, cloth, price $1.00.
_=For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publisher, A. L. BURT, 97 Reade Street, New York.=_
THE PRINCETON SERIES.
EACH COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.
Uniform Cloth Binding. Price, $1.25.
A SERIES OF STANDARD WORKS
BY
POPULAR AUTHORS.
EMBRACING
Fiction, History, Essays, Etc.
Printed from large type, on good paper, and bound in handsome cloth
binding.
[Illustration]
=Les Miserables.= A Novel. By +Victor Hugo+. Translated from the
original French by +Charles E. Wilbour+. Cloth. Illustrated.
Price, $1.25.
=Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dragoon.= By +Charles Lever+. Cloth.
Illustrated. Price, $1.25.
=The French Revolution.= A History by +Thomas Carlyle+. Cloth.
Illustrated. Price, $1.25.
=The Count of Monte Cristo.= By +Alexandre Dumas+. Cloth. Illustrated.
Price, $1.25.
=Montaigne’s Essays.= Translated by +Charles Cotton+ and edited by +W.
Carew Hazlitt+. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
=The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling.= By +Henry Fielding+. Cloth.
Price, $1.25.
=Harry Lorrequer.= By +Charles Lever+. Cloth. Illustrated. Price,
$1.25.
=Adventures of Don Quixote de la Mancha.= From the Spanish of +Miguel
de Cervantes+. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.25.
=Ten Thousand a Year.= By +Samuel Warren+. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
=Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship and Travels.= From the German of
+Goethe+. By +Thomas Carlyle+. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
=The Mysteries of Paris.= By +Eugene Sue+. Cloth. Illustrated. Price,
$1.25.
=The Wandering Jew.= By +Eugene Sue+. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.25.
=A History of Our Own Times.= From the Ascension of Queen Victoria to
the General Election of 1880. By +Justin McCarthy+, M. P. Cloth.
Illustrated. Price, $1.25.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 97 Reade Street, New York=.
THE HENTY SERIES FOR BOYS
Uniform Cloth Binding. Price $1.00.
“Wherever English is spoken one imagines that Mr. Henty’s name is
known. One cannot enter a schoolroom or look at a boy’s bookshelf
without seeing half a dozen of the famous volumes. Mr. Henty is no
doubt the most successful writer for boys, and the one to whose new
volumes they look forward every Christmas with most pleasure.”--_Review
of Reviews._
=Bonnie Prince Charlie=: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=With Clive in India=; or, The Beginning of an Empire. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=The Dragon and the Raven=; or, The Days of King Alfred. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by C. J. Staniland, R.I. Price $1.00.
=The Young Carthaginian=: A Story of the Times of Hannibal. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by C. J. Staniland, R.I. Price $1.00.
=The Lion of the North=: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus and the Wars of
Religion. By +G. A. Henty+. With Illustrations by John Schönberg.
=With Lee in Virginia=: A Story of the American Civil War. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=By England’s Aid=; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604). By
+G. A. Henty+. With Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. Price $1.00.
=By Pike and Dyke=: A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic. By +G. A.
Henty+. With Illustrations by Maynard Brown. Price $1.00.
=Captain Bayley’s Heir=: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California. By
+G. A. Henty+. With Illustrations by H. M. Paget. Price $1.00.
=Under Drake’s Flag=: A Tale of the Spanish Main. By +G. A. Henty+.
With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=In Freedom’s Cause=: A Story of Wallace and Bruce. By +G. A. Henty+.
With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=In the Reign of Terror=: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy. By +G.
A. Henty+. With Illustrations by John Schönberg. Price $1.00.
=True to the Old Flag=: A Tale of the American War of Independence.
With 12 page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=With Wolfe in Canada=; or, The Winning of a Continent. With 12 page
Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=By Right of Conquest=; or, With Cortez In Mexico. With 6 page
Illustrations by W. S. Stacey. Price $1.00.
=St. George for England=: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. With 8 page
Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=The Bravest of the Brave=: With Peterborough in Spain. With 8 page
Illustrations by H. M. Paget. Price $1.00.
=For Name and Fame=; or, Through Afghan Passes. With 8 page
Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=The Cat of Bubastes=: A Story of Ancient Egypt. With 5 page
Illustrations by J. R. Weguelin. Price $1.00.
=For the Temple=: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem. With 10 page
Illustrations by S. J. Solomon. Price $1.00.
=The Lion of St. Mark=: A Story of Venice in the Fourteenth Century.
With 10 page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=By Sheer Pluck=: A Tale of the Ashanti War. With 8 page Illustrations
by Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=A Final Reckoning=: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. With 8 page
Illustrations by W. B. Wollen. Price $1.00.
=Facing Death=: A Tale of the Coal Mines. With 8 page Illustrations by
Gordon Browne. Price $1.00.
=Maori and Settler=: A Story of the New Zealand War. With 5 page
Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. Price $1.00.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 97 Reade Street, New York=.
THE YALE SERIES OF POETS.
A Selection of Twenty-five Authors from the Most Celebrated Poets of
All Nations.
+Each Author’s Poems Complete in One Volume.+
_UNIFORM CLOTH BINDING. PRICE $1.00 PER COPY._
[Illustration]
BROWNING, R.
BRYANT.
BURNS.
BYRON.
CHAUCER.
COLERIDGE.
DANTE.
FAUST.
HOOD.
ILLIAD.
INGOLDSBY LEGENDS.
KEATS.
LIGHT OF ASIA.
LONGFELLOW.
LUCILE.
MILTON.
MOORE.
ODYSSEY.
POPE.
ROSSETTI.
SHAKESPEARE.
SHELLEY.
SWINBURNE.
TENNYSON.
WHITTIER.
THE CONTINENTAL SERIES.
Uniform Cloth Binding. Olivine Edges.
Extra Illustrated. Price $1.50.
In this series of historical stories each one is complete in itself,
yet taken together they form one of the most entertaining histories
of the Revolution. The utmost care has been exercised to have them
historically correct, and so much of romance as is used to make the
tales stirring is subordinated to the facts. They have been written
with the distinct purpose of portraying the struggle for liberty in
romantic form, and while being in the highest degree interesting
stories for the young, are at the same time especially instructive,
inasmuch as the greatest possible amount of information is given.
[Illustration]
_=The Capture of the Laughing Mary.=_ A Story of Two New York Boys in
1776, as set down by Eliphalet Willett, and edited by +James Otis+.
With 8 page illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Extra 12mo, illuminated
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.50.
_=With Lafayette at Yorktown.=_ A Story of How Two Boys Joined the
Continental Army. By +James Otis+. With 8 full page illustrations by
George E. Graves. Extra 12mo, illuminated cloth, olivine edges, price
$1.50.
_=With Warren at Bunker Hill.=_ A Story of the Siege of Boston. How
Ben Scarlett Escaped from Boston Town, as set down by his Comrade, and
edited by +James Otis+. With 8 full page illustrations by J. Watson
Davis. Extra 12mo, illuminated cloth, olivine edges, price $1.50.
_=With Washington at Monmouth.=_ A Story of Three Philadelphia Boys. By
+James Otis+. With 8 full page illustrations by George E. Graves. Extra
12mo, illuminated cloth, olivine edges, price $1.50.
Transcriber’s Notes
For printer’s errors in punctuation, spelling, etc., only the changes
listed below were made.
_Italics_, +Small Caps+, and =Bold Face= were converted as so.
The table of contents was added by the transcriber.
The varied spelling “round” and “’round” were kept without
standardization due to many instances of both.
Page-long illustrations originally on page 7, page 43, and page 187
were moved to the end of the paragraph to which each caption referred.
On page 8 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “could a’ had his
pick outer the ships”.
On page 11 “‘I never went to sea” was corrected to ““I never went to
sea”.
On page 30 “murmer” was corrected to “murmur”.
On page 31 a misprinted “goin’” was corrected in “I was afraid the
doctor was goin’”.
On page 46 a missing apostrophe was added in “be on this ’ere craft
quite a spell”.
On page 48 a missing apostrophe in “’pears” was added in “It ’pears
like as if my voice”.
On page 52 “annudder” was corrected to “anudder” in “larn him not to
leave anudder ole nigger woman”.
On page 69 two missing apostrophes in “a’” were added in “We might a’
known that any kind of a boat would a’ been stove in them seas”.
On page 88 an extra opening double quotation mark at the beginning of
“He was interrupted, and the children” was removed.
On page 91 a missing period was added to the end of “and old Chloe gave
the fullest particulars”.
On page 100 a misprinted “Ben” in “Jake began to prepare breakfast, and
Ben” was corrected.
On page 104 “‘Of course the cat looks a good deal” was corrected to
““Of course the cat looks a good deal”.
On page 104 a misprinted “she” was corrected in “to induce the old
woman to confess she”.
On page 104 a missing period was added to the end of “is still roamin’
’round the island”.
On page 110 a missing apostrophe in “an’” was added in “an’ we’re cut
down to sich short allowance”.
On page 116 a missing apostrophe was added in “consequently we must a’
struck”.
On page 123 a missing apostrophe in “’cause” was added in “did die here
it was ’cause he”.
On page 127 “‘I reckon she’s been” was corrected to ““I reckon she’s
been”.
On page 128 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “this shoal water
when she could a’”.
On page 132 an extra ending double quotation mark was removed from
“Can’t you see who that is?”.
On page 159 an extra ending double quotation mark was removed from the
end of “seeks in vain a way of escape from relentless enemies.”.
On page 167 “aint” was corrected to “ain’t” in “I ain’t hardly knowed a
minit’s peace”.
On page 172 a missing opening double quotation mark was added to the
beginning of “He was sure you were with me when he saw Ben”.
On page 183 “runing” was corrected to “running” in “but running up to
her young mistress”.
On page 185 “pre-prepared” was corrected to “prepared” in “fully
prepared for a long”.
On page 189 a missing ending double quotation mark was added to
“Captain Irwin will find us,”.
On page 191 “be” was corrected to “he” in “but at the same time he
knew”.
On page 195 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “I wouldn’t a’
said”.
On page 204 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “he might a’ got
hold of her”.
On page 210 a missing period and quotation mark were added to the end of
“to step out quick”.
On page 219 “an’” was corrected to “an” in “For as much as an hour
Tommy kept”.
On page 219 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “that I couldn’t
a’ stood up”.
On page 219 “Alice” was corrected to “Gertie” in “Ben asked, forgetting
in the interest caused by Jake’s story the possible danger which
menaced Gertie”. The only “Alice” in this book is in the ads for “Alice
in Wonderland”
On page 222 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “I might a’ been
cured”.
On page 224 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “Captain Irwin
himself could a’ done it”.
On page 225 a missing quotation mark was added to the end of “not later
than Tuesday”.
On page 225 a missing apostrophe in “an’” was added in “an’ how’se you
gwine”.
On page 229 a missing opening double quotation mark was added in “That
will be more than we can say”.
On page 233 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “Could he a’
sneaked”.
On page 235 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “Ben would a’
straightened the”.
On page 235 a missing apostrophe in “a’” was added in “in Key West
couldn’t a’ found us”.
On page 240 “one” was correct to “once” in “toward the gang-plank once
more.”
On page 241 missing apostrophes in “a’” were added in “Anybody would a’
thought he was your best friend”, “It would a’ been better to let him
had a little more”, “then perhaps he’d a’ learned to behave”, and “The
world would a’ got on jest as well”.
On page 242 “pecularity” was corrected to “peculiarity” in “owing to
the peculiarity of his costume”.
On page 249 a missing ending double quotation mark was added in “I
never saw nothin’ like her before,”.
On page 263 a missing opening double quotation mark was added in “You
know what Maggie says of”.
On page 264 a missing ending double quotation mark was added in
“There’s always risk of accident with children like Maggie about.”.
On page 267 a misprinted, missing comma was added in the second
instance of “fish, Sam?”.
On page 272 an extra ending double quotation mark was removed from the
end of “and bands has passed them by!”.
On page 274 a missing ending double quotation mark was added in “We
will see what you will work out for yourself.”.
On page 278 “THE ENE.” was corrected to “THE END.”.
On page 1 of ads a misprinted “a rested” was corrected to “arrested” in
“is arrested for aiding a”.
On page 1 of ads a misprinted “of” was corrected in “and of the greater
part of Southern India”.
On page 1 of ads a misprinted “Hen y” was corrected to “Henty” in
“Henty gives the history of the first part of the”.
On page 3 of ads a misprinted “seve al” was corrected to “several” in
“is several times wounded and twice taken”.
On page 4 of ads a misprinted “aft r” was corrected to “after” in “and
after various adventures accompanies”.
On page 8 of ads a misprinted “l ttle” was corrected to “little” in
“extended over little more than a year”.
On page 8 of ads a misprinted “p iest” was corrected to “priest” in
“the Egyptian high-priest”.
On page 8 of ads a misprinted “Thr e” was corrected to “Three” in
“Three Philadelphia boys, Seth Graydon”.
On page 8 of ads a misprinted “conduc ed” was corrected to “conducted”
in “whose mother conducted”.
On page 8 of ads a misprinted “r gular” was corrected to “regular” in
“spies who make regular”.
On page 11 of ads a misprinted “a” was corrected to “as” in “well as
entertain the”.
On page 11 of ads a misprinted “the e” was corrected to “there” in
“Ellis used his material that there is”.
On page 13 of ads “Canon” was corrected to “Cañon” in “=Lost in the
Cañon=”.
On page 13 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “By +C. M.
Crawley-Boevey+.”.
On page 13 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “Thirty
Illustrations by +H. J. A. Miles+.”.
On page 14 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “brings Budd
in contact with Judd Floyd”.
On page 17 of ads “By” was reformatted from small caps to normal case
in “By +Edward S. Ellis+.”.
On page 19 of ads “woven,in” was corrected to “woven, in”.
On page 19 of ads “By” was reformatted from small caps to normal case
in “By +Edward S. Ellis+.”.
On page 20 of ads “St George” was corrected to “St. George”.
On page 20 of ads “By” was reformatted from small caps to normal case
in “By +St. George Rathborne+.”, “By +Harry Castlemon+.”, and “By
+Horatio Alger, Jr.+”.
On page 20 of ads a misprinted “oarding” was corrected to “boarding”
in “in a sailor’s boarding house”.
On page 20 of ads “follow” was corrected to “fellow” in “a worthless
fellow”.
On page 21 of ads “By” was reformatted from small caps to normal case
in “By +Horatio Alger, Jr.+”.
On page 23 of ads a missing comma was added to the end of “Illustrated”
in “=Polly=: A New Fashioned Girl. By +L. T. Meade+. Illustrated,”.
On page 24 of ads misprinted or otherwise defaced words “doings” and
“possesses” were corrected in “describe the sayings and doings” and
“possesses that talent”.
On page 25 of ads “narrarative” was corrected to “narrative” in “this
brightly written and homely narrative”.
On page 25 of ads a doubled “the” was removed from “A Tale of Brittany.
Adapted from the French”.
On page 26 of ads “preic” was corrected to “price” in “=Celtic Fairy
Tales.= Edited by +Joseph Jacobs+. Illustrated by +J. D. Batten+. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.”.
On page 26 of ads a misprinted “o” was corrected to “No” in “No amount
of description can do them”.
On page 28 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “A Story of
Wild Pigs for Little People”.
On page 29 of ads “Price 75c.” was expanded to “Price 75 cents” in
“=Down the Snow Stairs=; or, From Good Night to Good Morning. By +Alice
Corkran+. With 60 Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Price 75 cents.” for
standardization within the page.
On page 29 of ads a misprinted “Illu trated” was corrected to
“Illustrated” in “=Mixed Pickles.= A Story for Girls. By +Mrs. E. M.
Field+. Illustrated”.
On page 29 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “With 20
Illustrations by W.”.
On page 29 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “and What
Alice Found There”.
On page 30 of ads a misprinted “_=Grimm’ Popular Fairy Tales=_” was
corrected to “_=Grimm’s Popular Fairy Tales=_”.
On page 30 of ads a missing comma was added after “by Walter Crane and
others” in “_=Grimm’s Popular Fairy Tales=_”.
On page 31 of ads a missing decimal point was added in “=Harry
Lorrequer.= By +Charles Lever+. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.25.”.
On page 32 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “By +G. A.
Henty+.” in “=With Clive in India=”.
On page 32 of ads a missing period was added to the end of “G.” in
“=With Lee in Virginia=”.
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