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diff --git a/77795-h/77795-h.htm b/77795-h/77795-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb71b44 --- /dev/null +++ b/77795-h/77795-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8958 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Voyage of the Norman D. | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { + margin-left: 12%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + h1, + h2, + h3, + h4, + h5, + h6, + header { + text-align: center; + /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; + } + + .p2 { + margin-top: 2em; + } + + hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; + } + + hr.tb { + width: 45%; + margin-left: 27.5%; + margin-right: 27.5%; + } + + hr.chap { + width: 65%; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + } + + @media print { + hr.chap { + display: none; + visibility: hidden; + } + } + + .pagenum { + /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; + } + + .sidenote { + width: 9%; + padding-bottom: .2em; + padding-top: .2em; + /*padding-left: 1em; + padding-right: 1em;*/ + margin-right: 0.5em; + float: left; + clear: left; + position: absolute; + left: 2%; + /*margin-top: 0.5em;*/ + font-size: small; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: 1px dashed; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + font-style: italic; + } + + .smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + } + + .allsmcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + text-transform: lowercase; + } + + figcaption { + font-weight: bold; + } + + figcaption p { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: .2em; + text-align: inherit; + } + + #transcribers-notes header p { + text-align: center; + text-transform: uppercase; + } + + /* Images */ + + img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; + } + + /* Transcriber's notes */ + .transnote { + background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size: small; + padding: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + font-family: sans-serif, serif; + } + + /* General CSS */ + + section p + p, + section hr + p, + #body p + p, + #body hr + p, + span + p { + text-indent: 1em; + } + + body > div { + page-break-before: always; + } + + p.continued { + text-indent: 0; + } + + h1, + h2, + h3, + *.uppercase { + text-transform: uppercase; + } + + *.larger { + font-size: 1.1em; + } + + *.smaller { + font-size: 0.9em; + } + + .right { + text-align: right; + } + + blockquote.letter footer.left p { + text-align: left; + } + + *.mt-2 { + margin-top: 2em; + } + + *.mr-2 { + margin-right: 2em; + } + + *.mt-5 { + margin-top: 5em; + } + + abbr[title] { + text-decoration: none !important; + } + + #body p.p2 { + text-indent: 2em; + } + + #body p.p3 { + text-indent: 3em; + } + + /* Images */ + + div.full-page-img { + margin: auto; + width: 50%; + } + + div#logo { + margin: auto; + width: 5em; + } + + div#signature { + margin: auto 2em auto auto; + width: 10em; + } + + div#score { + width: 70%; + margin: 0.75em auto 0.75em auto; + } + + /* Half titlepage */ + + #halftitlepage-1 header { + font-size: 2em; + text-align: center; + } + + /* Adv */ + + #adv>* { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + } + + /* Titlepage */ + + #titlepage * { + text-align: center; + } + + #titlepage h1 i { + text-transform: none; + } + + /* Copyright page */ + + #copyright>* { + text-align: center; + } + + /* Note */ + + #note p { + font-style: italic; + } + + #note p i { + font-style: normal; + } + + .note-anchor { + font-size: 0.75em; + vertical-align: super; + } + + /* Halftitlepage 2 */ + + #halftitlepage-2 h2 i { + text-transform: none; + } + + /* Body */ + + *.header { + margin-left: 70%; + } + + *.header > p > span { + display: block; + } + + *.header > p > span + br { + display: none; + } + + *.header > p span.i1 { + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -1em; + } + + *.header > p span.i2 { + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -1em; + } + + /* Publisher note */ + + #publisher-note * { + text-align: center; + } + + blockquote.letter footer p { + text-align: right; + padding-right: 5em; + } + + /* Poetry */ + + blockquote.poetry p { + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + } + + blockquote.poetry p > span { + display: block; + padding-left: 1em; + text-indent: -1em; + } + + blockquote.poetry p > span + br { + display: none; + } + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77795 ***</div> + <div class="full-page-img"> + <img src="images/letter.svg" alt="A letter written in a cypher, with drawings replacing letters."> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div id="halftitlepage-1"> + <header> + <i>The</i> <span class="uppercase">Voyage</span><br> + <i>of the</i> <span class="uppercase">Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></span> + </header> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div id="adv"> + <p> + <span class="uppercase">By</span><br> + <i>Barbara Newhall Follett</i> + </p> + + <hr> + + <p class="uppercase"><span class="larger"> + The House</span> + <br> + Without Windows<br> + <span class="smaller">And Eepersip’s Life There</span> + </p> + + <p>1927</p> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <section id="titlepage"> + <header> + <h1> + <i>The</i> <span class="uppercase">Voyage</span> + <br> + <i>of the</i> <span class="uppercase">Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></span> + </h1> + <p class="larger"><i>as told<br> + by the cabin-boy</i></p> + </header> + + <p class="uppercase mt-2">Barbara<br> + Newhall Follett</p> + + <hr class="mt-5"> + + <p>MCMXXVIII</p> + + <p class="uppercase">New York · Alfred · <abbr title="Abraham">A</abbr> · Knopf · London</p> + </section> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div id="copyright"> + + <p><i>Copyright 1928 by Alfred <abbr title="Abraham">A.</abbr> Knopf, <abbr title="Incorporated">Inc.</abbr></i></p> + <p><i>Manufactured in the United States<br> + of America</i></p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</span></p> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <section id="note"> + <h2>Note by the Publisher</h2> + + <p>The manuscript from which this book is + set is the carbon copy of a letter which the author + wrote, during the weeks just following her return + from the voyage recorded, to a distant friend with + whom (as appears in the context) she had long had + some piratical understandings. She mailed it in eight-page + typewritten installments as they were produced. + The book is identical with the letter except in the following + particulars: (1) Many purely personal passages + are omitted. (2) Much repetition due to the + haste of first composition has been weeded out. (3) + The name of the actual schooner and the names of + some of the crew have been disguised. (4) The division + into sections is an afterthought. (5) The end-papers + consist of a document in code with which + the author amused herself during one interval in + the composition of the letter.</p> + + <p>The narrative represents chiefly two obvious + traits of its author. The first is a circumstantial + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</span>memory. (Her jottings made day by day throughout + the voyage, four pages all told, served but to recall + changes of weather and stages of progress.) The second + is that same intense natural love of natural beauty + which found its first public expression in <i>The House + Without Windows and Eepersip’s Life There</i> + (1927). In <i>The House Without Windows</i> this passion + clothed itself in fantasy which incorporated here + and there some details of actual experience. In this + record of an actual experience, it clothes itself in a + shimmering veil of fantasy, so transparent that the + actuality of the basic experience is rather heightened + than obscured. + </p> + + <p>The voyage was taken three months after the + author’s thirteenth birthday. The book comes to publication + a little before her fourteenth. It is, then, the + spontaneous output of a very young writer who, as it + happens, has never as yet had a day of formal schooling, + and who learns her craft by that simplest of all + processes, enjoying with abandon whatever comes + into her life, reading with absorption whatever + comes into her hands, and writing with demoniacal + energy whatever comes into her head. To the publisher, + it seems that this one exhibit justifies her + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span>obvious contentment with the schooling which, for + part of an ecstatic month, was got out of the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, her rigging and sails and crosstrees, the men + of her cabin and her forecastle; and out of the various + magic of the waters beneath her keel. + </p> + + </section> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <section id="halftitlepage-2"> + + <h2> + <i>The</i> Voyage<br> + <i>of the</i> Norman <abbr>D.</abbr> + </h2> + + </section> + + <div id="body"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> + + <blockquote class="header"> + <p> + <span>The Cottage in the Woods</span> + <br> + <span class="i1">Lake Sunapee, New Hampshire</span> + <br> + <span class="i2">July 23, 1927</span> + </p> + </blockquote> + + <p class="p2"> + Dear Alan: + </p> + + <p class="p3">Thank you a lot for your very mysterious + letter from Honolulu. I wish I could have been + with you. But the Congressmen and their families + must have been a bore. I could have helped you concoct + a regular mutiny, and, with me aboard, you may + be sure it would have been done in a piratical way. I + should have accosted the desperate-looking sailor + and become acquainted with him. That would have + been the first step.</p> + + <p>Well, I feel tempted to sail full force into my + own adventures, even if they are not so exciting and + mysterious as your own. For the adventures that + have befallen me since you set sail for Sulu are + wilder and rasher than anything you ever heard me + tell you before.</p> + + <p>You know very well (better than anyone, I + think) my profound devotion to pirates and things + piratical. And you know, too, about the pirate tales + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span>which I started a little while before you went away—very + bloody, exciting, villainous, profane stories, + were they not? I had such a great many ideas for + pirate stories (and more and more ideas kept showing + their faces), I finally decided that my pirates + would make a much greater showing if I blended all + the short tales I had written, and a great many more + that I had in my mind, into one moderately long + story. No sooner said than I started to work. + </p> + + <p>I found, in the course of the very first few + pages, that I was getting involved in considerable + difficulties. There had to be ships, that was certain; + but I found that I knew almost nothing about ships. + So I laid the story aside a little while, turned to + Webster, and buried my face in the dictionary. I + looked up every nautical term that I could think of, + whether I knew it or not. I looked up nautical words + found in books I had read. I studied the list of nautical + words and their meanings at the end of <i>The + Dauber</i>. Then the sails bothered me. I needed to + know something about sails, and about different + kinds of rigs, and about the fastenings of the sails + and the names of them all. So I turned to the word + <em>sail</em>, and—lo and behold! exactly what I wanted. + Accompanying the word <em>sail</em> were two pictures, one + of the schooner or fore-and-aft rig, and the other of + the beautiful square-rig, each sail numbered and + named below. I fell to work with great zeal, and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> + learned topsails, topgallants, royals, skysails, jibs, + staysails, and all the rest of them; I can reel them off + now like second nature. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Rudimentary Nautics</span></p> + + <p>Then I realized that I didn’t know much about + rigging and ropes—the uses, the names of them. I + found just what I wanted under the word <em>ship</em>. It + was a picture of a ship in diagram, showing all the + principal ropes, spars, and yards. There were close + to two hundred figures in all, but I settled right down + to business and learned just about everything: lifts, + braces, clews, stays, backstays, sheets, ratlines, tops, + caps—the whole works. I don’t know how many exciting + hours I spent at my dictionary, digging into a + perfect treasure-trove of nautical words. I never in + my life before realized how many nautical terms + there are. And I was getting very gay indeed. I was + really learning something, and I was not slow to + make use of my knowledge. I danced around the + house, shouting out ship words and phrases which I + had found in <i>Treasure Island</i> and other books, but + which now had a new meaning for me. The first result + was that my pirate story gradually began to + improve a great deal. The second result was far + more important.</p> + + <p>I found myself going about to various people to + find out still more about ships. But I based most upon + the dictionary; I was sure that was correct, at any + rate. I found myself getting crazy and crazier about + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>ships (whether pirate ships or not—though of + course they were preferable) and about the sea. I + found that <em>my own writing</em> was getting me into a + wild state. My own writing was making me want to + sail. Now, if somebody else’s writing (the writing of + somebody who had really sailed) had been making + me crazy about it, I should not have been so surprised. + But when I had never sailed, and knew nothing + about ships except what I had learned from + Webster’s Dictionary—that seemed strange indeed. + Whether from one source or another, <em>something</em> + made me want to sail, and so badly that my blood + fairly itched within me, and I went after the dictionary + harder than ever, in case an opportunity should + suddenly come up; for I wanted to be well prepared. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Real Authority</span></p> + + <p>This was the second result (or, at least, the beginning + of it), and I presume it was making me a bit + hard to live with. One day Mother took me over to + see old <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen. <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen is the chief + carpenter of the house they are putting up behind + ours, and, so Mother had discovered some time before, + he had been a sailor all his life. I had told her + very savagely that I had determined to sail. Even a + schooner “would do,” thought I, though of course a + square-rigged ship would do better. Mother tried at + first to dissuade me. She told me that the only schooners + in existence now, as far as she knew, were the + fishing schooners that came into Boston, and they + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span> + were so soaked with fish and fish oil that they were + really quite unbearable. But I was not to be dissuaded + so easily, though I did begin to wish that I had been + alive in the days of the great old clipper ships, dashing + across the Atlantic from England to America. I + was furious with myself for living at a time when the + beauty and stateliness and romance of sailing ships + had dwindled down to a few stenching schooners in + Boston Harbor. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Well, then, I went over to see <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen. + You would love talking with him, Alan. He is full of + tales of his old sailing days, and rattles them off even + while he is sawing lumber or driving nails. And as + for knowledge, why, ships are second nature to him. + The sea is in every line of his face, too. He has a + mass of wrinkles radiating from the corners of his + eyes, from squinting in the sun and looking off into + the dazzling sea. He is brawny, firmly muscled, and + tattooed on the inside of his left forearm. He is delightfully + disgusted with things on land. I remarked + to him, as he was up on the scaffolding: “Well, that + kind of rigging isn’t so much fun, is it?” He replied + instantly: “No, too steady. Hasn’t got give + enough.” (He said “gib.”) He has a quaint power + of description, too. He tells about typhoons off the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>China coast—says “you would think a pack of + demons was loose on the sea.” <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen, by + the way, has a forty-foot sloop of his own, and about + every two weeks he goes off in it for the week-end, + going over to Block Island to fish. He has promised + me that I shall go with him on one of those trips + sometime. + </p> + + <p>But, to go on with the story, Mother said to + him: “I’ve got a daughter here who’s gone crazy + about boats. We thought you ought to know about + all the sailing ships there are, and we wondered if + you knew where there is a schooner or square-rigger + that is working now.”</p> + + <p>Says he: “Why, yes, indeed. There’s a nice little + schooner come in New Haven now; she come in right + ahead of me last Monday. She come down with lumber + from Nova Scotia. Pretty boat, too—all white. + I think her name is <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>”</p> + + <p>“Do you think there’s any chance we could go + aboard of her, mate?” I asked. (I liked to pretend + that he had been a shipmate of mine.)</p> + + <p>“Go aboard of her? Oh my, yes—they’d be + tickled to death to have a chance to show somebody + the boat. The crew are all home boys, and I guess + they’re mighty lonely down here where they don’t + know anyone.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Topmasts against the Sky</span></p> + + <p>He gave us full instructions as to how to get to + the schooner, and we resolved to go the next day. I + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> + stayed and had a little talk with the old sailor. He + says: “I usually go out o’ port on Friday. Now, + ’tain’t commonly supposed to be lucky to leave port + on a Friday, but I don’t take no stock in superstition. + I once sailed along of a captain that wouldn’t leave + port on a Friday, even when there was good wind, + good tide, good weather—everything just right.” + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Mate, you can believe that I hardly slept a wink + all that night. I was going down to see a real + schooner. I was going aboard of her. I should see the + crew, and be friendly with them. I should climb up + in the rigging, if allowed. (That was a secret hope + of mine, and I was almost more excited about that + than anything.) I would show the family, and the + crew, too, that if I got a chance to go up in those + ratlines, I would go!</p> + + <p>We must have made quite a sight, the whole Follett + family going down the street under royals and + skysails, headed straight for the schooner <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i> It seemed an infinitely long way, but we saw the + masts of her as soon as we got out of the trolley car, + and I know I was like a bucking wild horse all the + way down Brewery Street. When I saw those noble + topmasts against the blue sky ahead of me, I wanted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> + to run and get there; but Sabra was with us, and we + couldn’t hurry. I ran a few steps, excitedly snapping + my fingers; then I would buck and wait. So we proceeded + down towards the old broken-down wharf. + As we came nearer and nearer, though not yet near + enough to see the white hull of her, the beautiful, + stately topmasts and lower masts became clearer and + clearer, and at last I could see the rope ladder—the + shrouds and ratlines that I might be going up in. + And, at the idea of climbing into those spider webs, + I was so thrilled that I was almost dizzy, and knew + hardly anything.</p> + + <p>We came up and up alongside her, till we were + right beneath her bulwarks, and saw over us her + stately bowsprit, with the jibboom and flying jibboom. + I was thrilled to realize that I had already begun + to recognize things. I recognized that small + vertical spar projecting downward from the jibboom + which is called the “dolphin striker.” This was one + of the many things I had learned from that diagram + under the word <em>ship</em>.</p> + + <p>They were busy discharging her cargo of lumber; + the deck load was making good progress. There + were three carts on the wharf alongside her, on to + which they were loading it. The captain was sitting + on the edge of the deckhouse superintending the + work, which was going on very briskly. We hailed + him: “May we come aboard?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Initiation</span></p> + + <p>“Why, I gesso,” he replied. “What you + want?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, we’re just landlubbers who want to see + your ship.”</p> + + <p>“Well, come ahead,” he said.</p> + + <p>So we scrambled over the lumber carts, the + whole Follett family, still under full sail and laughing + heartily. I was the first upon the bulwarks amidships, + and I jumped down and landed with a thump + upon the deck load. (Quite a long jump it seemed to + me then, but before long I jumped from the bulwarks + on to the empty deck without thinking anything of + it.)</p> + + <p>I spoke to the captain first of all, but very + vaguely and dreamily, gazing about me—fascinated, + enraptured, all the time. I looked at the long, + huge booms, with the sails frapped closely round + them; at the great, splendid masts; at the many ropes + descending over blocks and made fast on belaying + pins along the side of the boat; at the double and + triple sheet-blocks; and, above all, at the ratlines and + shrouds, into which I longed to go up. The next + minute I had jumped upon the spanker boom and + crawled along to the very end, hanging slightly over + the water, where I supported myself by one of the + wire lifts.</p> + + <p>“Oh,” said the captain, “I see you’re a girl as + likes to climb around.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> + + <p>And that was true: for really I liked to climb + around even better than I dared admit at first. I + climbed many times upon the top of the deckhouse + and on to the spanker boom, I walked stealthily and + cautiously along the bulwarks, I talked a bit with two + of the sailors who were waiting for one of the carts + before they began loading again; I laid my hand + longingly upon the shrouds. But, though I had plenty + of courage, and a lot left over, to climb, I had not + quite the courage to ask permission, since I felt sure + that I should not be allowed. At last, after I had explored + around a bit, after I had taken hold of the + vast, hand-worn spokes of the wheel, after I had examined + the compass in the binnacle—I went up to + the captain and said: “I don’t suppose you would let + me go up into the rigging, would you?”</p> + + <p>“Sure!” he replied, “only stick to the ladder, + see? Don’t go off the rope ladder—and hold on + tight.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, don’t worry,” I answered. “I most likely + shan’t get up very far.” And I ran to the starboard + mizzen rigging.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">From the Crosstrees</span></p> + + <p>There Mother accosted me: “Oh, don’t go up + there! You scare me to death.” I overlooked her entirely, + and laid my hand upon the shrouds. Upon the + shrouds! I felt a little thrill go through my hand. + Next minute I was over the taffrail. “You don’t + dare, do you?” she continued. “Watch me and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> + see,” I replied. Then I pulled up on to the ratlines. + The emotions and sensations of that moment are indescribable. + I was starting my career as a sailor. I + was already in the rigging, and I hadn’t been on the + ship for more than twenty minutes! And only yesterday, + before that talk with my old sailor friend, it was + a far-away dream, pretty nearly impossible to accomplish. + Things had shaken about strangely. I was + in the rigging! Up and up I went, hand over hand. I + could have gone much faster without a quiver, but I + was so taken by it that I went slowly. I felt the rigging + sway beneath my weight. Fascinating! The + shrouds were getting closer and closer together, and + the ratlines, therefore, shorter and shorter. I was a + few steps below the crosstrees, I never believed, + never in this world, that I should be able to go more + than halfway up. Yet up I went, and the ratlines + were so very short that I could just wedge my feet + between them. Next moment I had reached out an + arm, put it over the crosstrees, braced my foot on the + iron futtock shrouds, and pulled myself up. There I + was, <em>sitting on the crosstrees</em>, one foot braced upon + the futtock shrouds, the other foot dangling in mid-air, + sixty-five feet above the deck. + </p> + + <p>The deck down there looked about six inches + long, and the busy crew about the size of ants, yet + very clear and sharp. I had never dreamed of being + so close to the truck. There was the slender tip of the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>mizzen-mast hardly twenty feet above me. There I + was, sitting on the crosstrees. I thought of many and + curious things. It was here that Jim Hawkins had sat, + in his terrified flight from Israel Hands. Here I was, + and I could imagine an Israel, wounded, dirk in + teeth, climbing after me. I stood up on the crosstrees, + and, looking out to sea, I found that I could see very + far and clearly. A few little harbor boats were cruising + about. Yes, the deck was certainly not more than + six inches long. But I found, to my intense delight, + that I could look down upon it without a tremor. My + head is built for height. I have a sailor heart, and a + sailor head, thought I. Now, if only I were sure that + I had a sailor stomach, everything would be perfect. + </p> + + <p>It is very alarming to get from the crosstrees on + to the ratlines again. It is necessary to hang over + space for a moment, until you can get your feet on + the rigging. But it did not bother me. I lowered myself + by the strength of my forearms, took the futtocks + with my hands, and dropped my feet on to the + ratlines. Then I came down, feeling, Alan, a good + deal more like a real pirate than I had ever felt + before.</p> + + <p>The captain complimented me gravely, saying: + “I couldn’t go up as far as that,” and telling me that + I had a good head.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Ancient Mariner</span></p> + + <p>That was about the end of the first day’s climbing. + Right now I forget whether I went up again or + not, but the first time was the most thrilling, anyway. + I talked for a while with two of the sailors; then the + captain took us about the ship, showing us the galley, + the fo’c’sle, the engine-room, the after cabin. The + latter is a very ample, seemingly luxurious place: two + moderately large rooms, one used for dining room, + which has a massive table hooked up to the wall to + prevent its rolling about; the rest of it divided into + five small compartments, each containing a bunk. Of + these the captain, mate, bo’s’n, and cook had four, + and the other was a spare bunk. In the fo’c’sle there + are bunks for four, but there were only three men + there, then. On asking one of the men if that wasn’t + quite a small crew to handle the schooner, they answered + very definitely in the negative.</p> + + <p>The captain is a most delightful old fellow, a + true sea captain. He will talk for hours at a time. I + think he can say as many words in an hour as another + man in a day. He told us about various experiences + of his in his many schooners—storms, losing deck + loads, and so on. He says:</p> + + <p>“I’m not boasting, but, folks, I’ve never lost a + ship in my life, and only one deck load. Now, that’s + a good record for a man that’s been at sea forty year. + An’ I’ll tell you, folks, how I lost that deck load. It + was in that gale we had last October—on a Friday, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>I think ’twas—an’ part of the port taffrail got carried + away—see there, folks, where you can see that + new paint? Well, that’s the piece as got carried away, + and I see we had to lose that load. So we give it a + little start, and, I tell you, folks, it wasn’t very hard. + All we had to do was give it a little start, and off it + went. I had it all insured, folks, and I guess the boys + would have been glad enough to have the whole lot + go, hold and all! Ha! Ha! Ha!” (It was the same + gale that carried down one of the oak trees in the + woods near us.) + </p> + + <p>He evidently liked to boast about his early days + at sea. One tale he told which particularly took my + fancy: “When I was a greenhorn, I got the hang of + a sailor’s job pretty quick. I was a smart lad at the + helm. The cap’n was particklarly pleased with me. + I was proud, I tell you, folks, one time when we was + havin’ some rough weather. Another greenhorn that + put out to sea with me went up aft to take his trick, + but he couldn’t manage it at all—the waves come + breaking over the ship, and the cap’n saw he didn’t + know the ropes at all. Well, I’d jist had my two + hours; I was all through and gone up forrard, but + when the cap’n see this lad didn’t know nothing, he + called me aft agin, and gave me the helm fer another + trick. Well, I was proud, I tell you!”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Heard and Seen on Deck</span></p> + + <p>So he rattled on, tale after tale. He was telling + us about the schooner he was in command of before + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> + the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> “She was a sweet schooner, folks,” + he said; “she would do anything but talk, and she + tried hard enough to do that.” + </p> + + <p>For the matter of that, I have said little enough + about the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> herself. She is a 390-ton + schooner. The captain said she used to be 425, but + she was cut down, because on a schooner of more + than 400 tons, there has to be a certified mate—a + mate who has passed examinations and has a license + or something of the kind to indicate that he is a competent + officer. Nowadays there is so little sailing, and + the terms of enlistment are so short, and the men are + so unsteady, sailing a few months and then going + off ashore somewhere, that they don’t get enough + training to become certified mates. Therefore mates + are very hard to get. So the schooner was cut down. + (An ordinary man would have told all that in about + three minutes and three quarters, but not so the captain. + He told it inside and out, backwards and forwards, + two or three times, and we never heard the + last of that certified mate.) She has masts of about + ninety feet; very fine trees they were once. Her booms + are huge, especially the spanker, which is almost as + large around as the part of the mast just below the + crosstrees. Her jibboom is very long and straight, + for she carries an outer jib—jib, flying jib, and + outer jib. She is all painted white, with a narrow + stripe of red about three feet below the bulwarks, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>and a little red painted ornament on the top of the + cutwater. Her hull seemed to me to be of a beautiful + shape—but it was beautiful enough to see a wooden + hull at all, these days. + </p> + + <p>The captain explained to me a great many + things about a sailing vessel, and I went home with a + much clearer idea of things. He told me all the names + of the sails, showed me the gaffs, which I had never + quite understood, and told me which sails were usually + taken in first in a wind, and which were first + hoisted. Like Jim Hawkins when he found Long + John Silver, I began to realize that <em>here</em> was a <em>shipmate</em>! + If I could live with Captain Avery for a while, + I did not doubt but that I should really know something.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Sunday Obstacles</span></p> + + <p>There could be only three or four different results + to all this. So far, the result was that we invited + the captain out to dinner the next Sunday, and arranged + to have the Bryans come over “to meet a + real old sea captain.” Accordingly, Sunday morning + about half-past ten (five bells), I set out alone for + the schooner. Again I had the pleasure of seeing her + proud and noble topmasts against the sky, but this + time I could go tearing at full speed down Brewery + Street. Yet I was not so hasty but that I stopped to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> + think a minute. It was Sunday. Very likely the crew + would be ashore: suppose there were no one aboard + the schooner—no one to let me aboard? Then I + should have to go prowling about alone, without permission, + sneaking down into the cabin to search out + the captain, and I might be suddenly challenged and + questioned by one of the sailors. Also it would look + rather curious, to anyone ashore, to see me going + over the ship’s side without permission. I might be in + some embarrassing situations before the end of the + morning! I confess that I was a little worried, and I + stopped tearing along, and walked quietly and decently + down the street. + </p> + + <p>The gate to the wharf was closed, and at that + time I didn’t know about a certain little side gate, + always possible to open by hand. Here was my first + barrier. I determined, however, to get to the ship + anyway; and I pulled lightly over the fence and + dropped down upon a heap of coal. Then I started + around it. But I was looking down, walking rather + fast, and before I saw what I was doing I had + brought up short against the bow hawser of the + schooner. I was a bit stunned, for the rope was heavy + and very taut. I ducked under it and found my way + to the side of the schooner.</p> + + <p>At first it looked as though the worst of my suspicions + were too true. There was not a sign of a soul + upon the decks. The whole ship was as still as night. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>I didn’t even hear any voices from the cabin or + fo’c’sle. But I determined to stick it out until I knew. + The silence was positively terrifying. I could only + judge that the captain had gone off to Boston (as he + had warned us he might), and that all the rest of the + crew were ashore. Yet, I thought, someone ought to + be aboard; the ship wouldn’t be likely to be left all + alone. With this in my mind, I raised a small hail—“Yoo-hoo!”—and, + to my delight, someone appeared + in the door of the fo’c’sle. Two or three + others were behind him, looking curious and rather + startled. + </p> + + <p>I put a very bold and saucy face upon the matter. + “Look here,” said I, “I’m the kid who was here a + couple o’ days ago, and the captain was coming out + to lunch with us today, so I came down to get him. + Is he aboard?”</p> + + <p>There were many answers to this question. + “The captain’s ashore.” “I think he’s gone to Boston.” + “No, no,” from the cook, “the captain’s aft. + He ain’t gone to Boston.”</p> + + <p>I thought I had better cover up the toploftiness + with which I had started, and I was very pleasant + and friendly for a bit. Then I said: “May I go + aft and find the captain?” “Yes, indeed,” they returned. + Meanwhile I had slipped rather sure-footedly + from the edge of the wharf to the top of the + bulwarks, and leaped down upon the deck. (By this + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> + time the deck load of lumber was gone.) I found my + way down into the cabin. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Forty Winks</span></p> + + <p>Then came the most exciting thing of all, my + hunt for Captain Avery. He was not in the dining + room or in the other part of the after cabin, where + there were a desk and a barometer, a couch and a + few chairs. Then I began ransacking the various + sleeping compartments—for I did not remember + which the captain had said was his. I found him in the + second, lying down, fast asleep, his white hair falling + over his face, his cheeks rosy, and part of his + Sunday clothes on. I waited ten full minutes, I am + sure, to see if he wouldn’t wake up of his own accord; + for if there is anything I detest, it is waking up sleeping + persons. At last I said very softly: “Captain + Avery!” No answer. Then I tapped gently on the + open door, and said again: “Captain Avery!” He + woke as though eight bells had struck, or as though + the bo’s’n had suddenly called “All hands on deck!” + And, believe me, there was no yawning or coughing + or blinking or rubbing. He was wide awake in a flash—which + shows what a sailor he is. He recognized + me immediately with a smile. “Well, I guess I dozed + off all right. I took it into my head to read, ’n’ so I + got out my Bible and read a chapter or two. ’N’ then + I began to feel sleepy, ’n’ I jist dozed off.” Then he + was up and putting the finishing touches to his Sunday + dress. I was rather sorry, though, to see the old + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>fellow dressed up. It didn’t look right to see him in a + stiff collar and a clean white shirt. + </p> + + <p>He fell to talking immediately, about this and + that and the other and why he didn’t go to Boston + and what the crew was doing and what they wanted + to do and what they usually did on Sunday and how + they went cruising around and how soon he thought + the cargo would be discharged and how long he + thought the schooner would be in port—everything + all in a jumble, with no commas, just as I have written + it. Then he told about his home town, Moncton, + Nova Scotia, and the various railway routes and + harbors. Also he began to tell what he had done in + New Haven, and what a pretty town it was, and how + glad he was to have a chance to see more of it, and + was I sure about the trolley car routes? and did I + have plenty of car-fare? and how far out did we live? + and what building was this, and that, and the other? + and so on, and so forth, and so following. Then he + fell to about ships and schooners; and that I was + really glad of, and began to pay more attention. And + he began yarning about storms and gales, and furling + the sails hastily, and coming through dangerous + shoals and shallows under bare poles, until I thought + that I had never met such an interesting old codger.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Monological</span></p> + + <p>By this time we were in the Whitney Avenue + trolley car. The captain was much impressed by the + stately elms. They led to a general discussion of all + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> + the various trees in all the various parts of the world, + especially Nova Scotia. But really the business part + of the town was the most interesting to him, and, as I + said, he kept asking me about this building and that + one till I thought I had never had such a drill on my + own home town. All the way up Armory Street he + ran on, in a monotone which it often became difficult + for me to understand. When we got home I dumped + him into a rocking-chair, feeling quite stunned with + all the talk I had heard. I was willing to have the air + more silent around me, and so I was rather glad + when he picked up a newspaper and began to scan + it. I never heard anyone so entertaining when reading + to himself. He would read the headlines aloud, + then the articles to himself, making audible or inaudible + comments now and then. And after he had + finished he would say: “Hm! And a hard enough + time they’ll have of it, too!” or the like incomprehensible + ejaculation. + </p> + + <p>All day Sunday he talked in the same way, pouring + forth streams of conversation concerning everything + under the sun. Of course I liked his ship talk + the best, but, since that was second nature to him, he + seemed to prefer talking of other things. Late in the + afternoon we all went down to take him back to the + schooner, and to show her to the Bryans.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p> + + <p>I have never managed to go down there without + having thrills run through and through me at the + sight of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>—her long and graceful + jibboom, the sharpness of her white cutwater, her + mazes of rigging, ratlines, blocks; even the very idea + of her—of a schooner, a real schooner, a large vessel + under sails—thrilled me. The bo’s’n brought a + ladder when he saw the captain coming, and aboard + we all went. By this time I had got to feel very much + at home on the ship. I wanted to feel at home on her; + I loved to, because I felt more than ever like a sailor. + I grew, of course, steadily more daring, and now I + walked right along the bulwarks without a quiver. + The first thing I did when I got aboard was to scramble + up the rigging again. Oh, how I loved that rigging! + How I loved to grip the shrouds tight, to feel + myself going up hand over hand over hand! How I + loved the quivering, the shaking, which my weight + gave to it! And how I was thrilled, how I was always + thrilled, to find myself sitting on the crosstrees!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A New Acquaintance</span></p> + + <p>One thing, however, I had not hitherto dared + to venture upon—the topsail ratlines. Just above + the crosstrees are five or six more frail rope steps, + not nearly so steady and strong as the main part of + the rigging. These steps are used when the sailors + are aloft working at the topsails. Somehow they + looked too frail and shaky for me. I didn’t quite dare + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> + begin climbing <em>them</em>, especially when I was starting + more than sixty feet above the deck. But I stood out + on the crosstrees, and I put my hand to my forehead, + and I looked out to sea—feeling a good deal like + the lookout man on the fo’c’sle deck. + </p> + + <p>By this time they had entirely moved the deck + load and were working on the hold (though, of + course, not on that day), and so the boom of the + mainsail had been belayed to the port side of the + schooner, to make room for hoisting out the cargo. + Now it was loose, and I had a lot of fun pushing it + back and forth. Then I scrambled up on to it—and + quite a job that was, too—and Daddy pushed it + back and forth, until it swung almost out over the + water, bringing up hard on the sheet. Afterwards I + learned to get up on the boom in one pull of my arms, + by means of the downhaul, but of course the sails + weren’t hoisted then.</p> + + <p>That evening we became acquainted with the + mate. He is a very nice fellow. Evidently he had been + ashore, for he had on his shore togs. We went up + forward on the fo’c’sle deck and had a long talk with + him. I happened to hint something about the jibboom. + I longed to go out on it, but I didn’t quite dare + to. I hadn’t quite got my sailor-familiarity-with-the-ropes + on yet. But the mate immediately started to + go out on the bowsprit. “See,” said he, “this is a + nice, easy little walk out here”—as he went along + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>a shelf of the bowsprit no more than three inches + wide, holding on by a wire rope. “See, you just be + careful to hold on to this rope—you must be careful + to not grab anything that’ll let you down.” Then + he reached the jibboom, and stepped down on to the + footropes. “But these footropes are a good long + stretch for a youngster,” said he. “I tell you, this is + a nasty place in bad weather; it certainly is. Imagine + how it would be with waves running high, and washing + up over you when you are out on there!” Then + he told us how once he had managed to fall off the + jibboom when a high sea was running, but, happily, + had caught by his armpits among the bowsprit rigging + and climbed up on again. I surely believed him: + I had never known anything, even the topsail ratlines, + look more insecure than those footropes. They + jerked back and forth, and at every step they sagged + ’way down. But I determined to be sailorly, and, + though I didn’t go out that evening, I secretly resolved + that some day I should surprise everyone by + going out on those frail, jogging footropes, where, if + I should fall off, I should probably stick fast in nice, + oozy harbor mud. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Wanting the Moon</span></p> + + <p>How that schooner haunted me! I was like a + caged lion all day, and at night I dreamed that I was + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span> + sailing off, back to Nova Scotia, with her. The days + were drawing on. She would be going in about two + weeks. I should see her no more. Perhaps I should + <em>never</em> see her again, for Captain Avery has no regular + schedule, and he goes into New Haven very rarely. + Yes, perhaps I should never see her again. And there + would end my brilliantly begun sailor career. Again + I should have to resort to the stenching fishing + schooners around Boston. The best I could possibly + hope for, thought I, would be to go out on the tug + which would tow her out of the harbor. Then I could + at least see her hoist her sails and sail and roll away. + How lonely I should be! I was afraid of the thought. + In my imagination I could see her casting her towrope, + her sails filling with a fresh breeze, already her + cutwater making wings of foam reach out along her + sides. I should see her dwindle to a snow-sailed fairy + ship in the distance; then she would be a microscopic + speck on the horizon. Oh, but that was to die by + inches, thought I. I think I could never have borne it. + </p> + + <p>“Oh! don’t you wish we could go with her + when she sails?” said I to Daddy, who was fascinated + by her, as I was.</p> + + <p>“Why yes, of course I do,” said he. “But we + can’t—so there’s no use in talking about it.”</p> + + <p>No, there was certainly no use in talking about + it. The impossible cannot be accomplished. But the + schooner continued to haunt me.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> + + <p>And so Mother and I escaped from the house + and went down to see the schooner again. This + proved to be one of the most thrilling visits of all. + When we got aboard, the mate was sitting on top of + the deckhouse piecing the great outer jib. That sail + had been ripped in a gale, and they had taken it off + the jibboom to mend it. The mate had a huge rope-needle, + and he wore a regular sailmaker’s thimble, + which is a small metal disk set in a leather strap worn + around the wrist. He was putting in a strip of new + canvas, which looked very clean and white in contrast + to the other. We had a little talk; then I played + about the ship as usual, climbing along her bulwarks—in + fact, literally skipping and running along her + bulwarks, to Mother’s terror. Then, after I had + climbed up to the crosstrees two or three times, always + looking rather longingly at the topsail ratlines, + Captain Avery asked us if we would like to eat supper + with him, aft, at four bells (six o’clock). Mother + called me down from some high perch and asked me. + Would I eat a meal on a real ship? Would I indeed!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Nautical Fare</span></p> + + <p>So down we went, into the room where the massive + table was hooked up to the wall. Before that I + had become well acquainted with the cook, a delightful + old man who told us he was up in the seventies + somewhere. (You may believe it or not, but his + name was Oscar Follett.) He was, or at least had + been, the best sailor aboard; he had served in real + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> + square-riggers, and knew a great deal about them. + I called him “matey,” and we had a grand time together. + Once I had asked him if he wouldn’t like me + to go with him back to Nova Scotia. I told him I + would wash dishes for him. He replied: “Yes, you + could help me a lot.” For the matter of that, I had + even asked the captain—in joke, of course—if <em>he</em> + wouldn’t like me to sail back with him, and I had + told him too that I was willing to wash dishes to earn + my passage. Said he: “You wouldn’t have to wash + dishes to go with me!” The cook is very amusing. + Right off, then, I had a feeling—a doubtful, vague + feeling—that all was not quite right between the + cook and the skipper. For the cook, seeing company + arrive, was in the process of changing the tablecloth, + which was rather begrimed. The captain said: “Oh, + don’t bother about that, steward—that’s all right.” + Then said the cook very violently: “’Tain’t neither! + ’s dirty!” And he yanked it off with one good + snatch. + </p> + + <p>Down we sat, the three of us, to a delightful + meal of cold fat ham, boiled potatoes mixed up with + corned beef and a kind of greasy gravy, very tough + ship’s bread, canned pears, and very strong black tea. + It was coarse grub—there is no denying it—yet, + in the excitement of the moment, it seemed to make + everything more romantic and adventurous. I tackled + the bread with the determination of one possessed; + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>I hardly heard the cook spinning us a yarn. This is + something to the effect of the way he talked: + </p> + + <p>“The only disadvantage of your comin’ along of + us when we sail is ’at ye’re powerful likely to be seasick. + ‘Most everyone is seasick for a few days. Me, + when I first went to sea, I was seasick ten days, and + I lay there in me bunk, and ate nuthin’ at all—nuthin’ + ’cepting a little cold water, an’ I’d chuck that + right up again. Now, the cap’n I was sailin’ with, he + was always nice to me, ’n’ he didn’t see me for ten + days, so after a while he come forrard and asked me + what was the matter. ‘What’s the matter with you, + Si?’ says he. ‘Well, sir,’ says I, ‘I’m seasick. I’ve + been here ten days.’ ‘Have you eaten anything, Si?’ + says he. ‘No, sir,’ says I. ‘Well, but, Si, you must + eat something, or you’ll die. You must eat something, + Si. Now come, get out of your bunk, and walk + around a bit.’ So I got out of my bunk, and I was so + weak that he had to put his arm around me, or I + should have fallen over. ‘Now, Si, ain’t there anything + you’d like to eat?’ ‘No, sir, nothing,’ says I. + ‘But, Si, you must eat something, or you’ll die.’ ‘No, + sir, I can’t eat anything.’ ‘Now, Si, you jist take it + easy, and think if there ain’t something I can get you + to eat.’ ‘No, sir, there ain’t nuthing.’ ‘Now, Si, you + jist think a minute, and see if there ain’t anything.’ + ‘Well, sir,’ says I, ‘I believe I’d like a little strong + cold tea, without any sweetening in it.’ So he got up + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> + and went and fetched me my quart mug full of tea, + and I drank the last drop of it, and it stayed down, + too. ’N’ I was niver seasick again after that.” + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Strained Relations</span></p> + + <p>(I managed to hear that three times before + seeing the last of the steward, and each time it was + longer and more complicated, with more details.) + All the time, the little old man was leaning up + against a projecting panel of the wall, with his arms + crossed, glaring and glowering and staring and + scowling at the captain. He would arch up his bald + forehead, making the high wrinkles show, and his + eyes would look most keen and piercing—his old + blue eyes—beneath his high forehead. I never saw + such expressions of hatred in my life; and I confess + that I was amused very much indeed. And when + Captain Avery looked at the steward to ask him for + something, he, too, looked frowningly and hatefully. + But the cook was fond of me, partly because I listened + to his talk with a long ear, and partly because + I had helped him, to my own delight, setting the + table and getting the supper ready.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>We were through before very long, and the + mate and bo’s’n came down to take our places at the + table. The most exciting part of the evening was still + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>to come; it was indeed. No sooner was I out on deck + than I scurried again up into the rigging. I never got + so used to climbing the rigging that I could treat it + as a commonplace matter. It was always thrilling to + me, and I felt myself growing more and more a + sailor. By this time the whole crew knew that I liked + to climb around and that I was daring about it, and + usually I could see one or two, especially the old + cook, looking out of the galley or the fo’c’sle, grinning + up at me. I was no longer in their world: I was + at the level of the sea gulls. + </p> + + <p>But on this trip up to the crosstrees I had a new + idea in my head—those quivery, frail topsail ratlines<!--rat-lines -> ratlines-->. + They tempted me hugely. I felt that my climbing + in the rigging was very imperfect until I could say that + I had been on the topmost of those additional rope steps<!--rope-steps -> rope steps-->. + This time, when I reached the crosstrees, I + didn’t pause at all. I was afraid my idea might not + work. I gripped for those shrouds right off, and I went + right up those shaky ropes. They were hard to climb, + too, because I didn’t quite dare do them from the + outside, where, of course, they would have been a + great deal easier. Instead, I went up from the inside + of the rigging, so that I was climbing at a very awkward + angle. But I went on up, until I stood, quivering + and shaking, on the topmost rope. I felt as if I + were adding more and more steps to my brilliant + sailor record. So I was quite proud and delighted + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> + when I came down from the ratlines. I went and + talked a moment to the cook, who had been sitting on + the starboard bulwarks amidships, watching. He immediately + said to me: “Why didn’t you go right on + up to the truck?” “I see no footropes,” said I. + “Well,” said he, “you might have shinned right + up.” “Oh, I imagine I’ll come to that in time,” I + answered. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Invasion of a New Province</span></p> + + <p>But now I had an even more exciting idea in my + mind. I went back to the mate and told him I was + going out on the bowsprit. “I’m going out as far as + I can,” I said. “I don’t know whether I’ll get any + farther than the jibboom, but I’ll get out to those + footropes anyway.”</p> + + <p>“Well,” said he, “just be careful to hold on to + that wire rope, and you’ll be all right.”</p> + + <p>So I started. I crawled, step by step, out along + that three-inch shelf on the side of the bowsprit, + holding fast to the indicated rope. Once the furled + jib, which was loosely a-swing amid its tackle, lumbered + outwards toward me and nearly pushed me off + the bowsprit; but, happily, I ducked under it and + went on. As I walked along that shelf, I felt that I + could not possibly keep on climbing out so successfully; + it was incredible that I should be able to walk + so far without any mishap. Yet I reached the frail + footropes of the jibboom in safety. Cautiously I + stepped down upon them, and they sagged deeply + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>beneath me. From knot to knot I edged, bracing my + feet upon the cross-ropes. Without them I could + never have made my way out, because the jibboom + was tipped uphill so steeply. And at each step I felt + new surprises. Why didn’t something happen to stop + me? Why didn’t I go suddenly hurtling down into + the sea so far below? Was I actually going to be + allowed to reach the very end? After a little breathless + manœuvring, I did reach it—the very white + painted tip of the jibboom, which is one of the most + romantic inches of wood in the world. Holding on + to the forestay, I stood up and smiled a smile of + triumph. + </p> + + <p>Then I had one of the strangest surprises of my + life. It was time for the factory workers to be getting + out, and, when I stood up and looked over to the + road, there was an audience of at least fifty people, + of all ages and sexes, leaning over the bridge and + looking at me. Some of them waved and grinned. + How like a sailor I felt! Then, cautiously, but not + quite so slowly, I edged down the jibboom again, + always being careful to brace my feet on the footrope + knots so that I shouldn’t slip. When I got back + I will not deny that I skipped, danced, ran, flew, all + the way down the bulwarks until I reached the taffrail, + where I leaped down.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Breaking in a Green Hand</span></p> + + <p>Gradually my reputation was increasing. I was + climbing rung after rung of the ladder of sailor + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span> + fame. I was so gay that I skipped about among + mate, cook, and captain, asking the names of ropes + and things. I learned quite a lot that evening. But I + had more delights coming to me: I still had great + duties to perform about the deck. The mate was running + about, getting everything ready for the night. + The main gaff was hoisted, having been used to swing + the main cargo up from the hold and over the side of + the ship, where the men working in the lumber trucks + had unfastened it. So the gaff had to be lowered. + That was where the main part of my work came in. + I held the peak halyards; the mate, on the other side + of the ship, held something else—I could not see + what, but in all probability the throat halyards. The + mate came over and said to me: “You want to be a + sailor man? See, now, hold this rope, and let it out + very slowly.” So I took the rope, and I let it out + slowly, hand over hand. Slowly the gaff came down, + and I felt an enormous weight pulling at the rope, + so that sometimes it pulled itself more quickly than + I wished through my hands, burning them. Once it + almost got free from me, and I saw it whizzing + along. I heard a cry from the mate, and with a little + strength I managed to stop it. There was a small + bang and the gaff came to rest. + </p> + + <p>Then a rope had to be uncoiled from the mainsail + boom, which the mate wanted to use to make the + gaff fast. We uncoiled it together, one on each side + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>of the boom, and pulling the rope across hand over + hand—I pulling, the mate loosening the coils. Several + times I got the rope’s end in my face with a + smart little <i>smack!</i> but that was sailorly, and I + minded it no more than the dirt. + </p> + + <p>After that I helped the mate by carrying coils + of rope which he wanted moved, and doing other + small jobs. By this time Mother was saying that it + was time to go home; so after the mate had finished + his work I said to him: “Oh, how I wish I could go + along back to Nova Scotia!” and left the schooner.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Sea Fever</span></p> + + <p>I don’t remember whether or not we visited the + schooner any more before a certain memorable day, + only a few days before she sailed. It was on a Saturday. + I had been talking steadily about the schooner + to everyone; I had described in full detail my various + accomplishments to my old friend <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen; + I had thought more about the beauty and the + adventures of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> than I had ever + thought about anything before. And this Saturday + morning, more than two weeks after the schooner + had come in, the fever which was in me for sailing + became intolerable. I shall never forget—never, + though I live to be a thousand—how I felt that + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> + morning. I strode up and down the porch, feeling, + ranting, and looking a good deal like a lion just + brought in from the jungle, caged. I was frantic—wild—unpersuadable. + I said: “You can’t keep me + from it—you can’t, you can’t—I’m going to sail + with the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> And I’m going up to the dictionary + <em>now</em> to learn the thirty-two points of the + compass by heart, so that I shall be well prepared, + and so that I shall be allowed to steer. Yes, I’m going + with the schooner!” + </p> + + <p>“But you can’t go alone.”</p> + + <p>“I can! I can! I must! I shalt die if I don’t. Of + course I can. Of course! I know the captain well, and + the mate, and the cook, and the bo’s’n, too, for + that matter. Oh, don’t talk to me—I’m going; I + must go!”</p> + + <p>“But how can you get back?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, Lord! I am wild, and I am crazy, but I’m + not so wild that I can’t think that out. You know the + <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> is going to load up at Bridgewater; then + she sails for New York; and Daddy can meet her at + New York when she comes in. Oh, don’t try to talk + to me, or keep me from it, because you can’t. You + can’t do it. No! I’m going to sail.” + </p> + + <p>What a wretched, cruel thing <em>reality</em> is—one + of those hideous monsters which ill-fated Pandora + let out of her magic chest!</p> + + <p>“Now, Bar, be reasonable. You know you can’t + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>go without someone else to go along too, and look + out for you—someone we know.” + </p> + + <p>“But we do know the captain, and the mate, + and the cook.”</p> + + <p>“Yes, but not intimately. Now, listen a minute, + and I’ll tell you something.”</p> + + <p>“Not a word, unless you give me permission + to go. And if you don’t give me permission, I’ll go + without. I’ll run away, I will, and be a stowaway + aboard the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> And, if that’s the case, what’s + more, I shan’t return home at all. I shan’t come back + to New York. I’ll stay aboard her all the time. Indeed + I will! And I’ll live the life I’m made to live.—Oh, + if I were only sure I had a sailor stomach!”</p> + + <p>“That’s right, too: you’ll certainly be seasick.”</p> + + <p>“What do I care? Do you think you can break + me of my desire to sail just by telling me I’ll get seasick? + To be sure I’ll be seasick. And, what’s more, I’ll + get over it, too. Now, may I go, or must I go without + leave?”</p> + + <p>“Now, listen again. You can go if you get someone + to go with you. And if you can’t get someone to + go with you, you just cannot go with the schooner, + that’s all. That’s definite—you cannot sail with her + unless someone goes with you. But you can go out + on the tug to see her set sail—”</p> + + <p>“Oh! I could never stand to see her sail away + without me.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Argumentative</span></p> + + <p>“And you can go with her some other trip—perhaps + on her next trip—”</p> + + <p>“But she has no schedule, and she only comes + into New Haven very rarely.”</p> + + <p>“No matter. Perhaps you can sail with her + from New York the next time she comes in there.”</p> + + <p>“But by that time I may not want to sail any + more.”</p> + + <p>“Well, that’s absolutely the best that can be + done. If you can get someone to go with you, you + may sail; if not, no.”</p> + + <p>“And so now I’m going to learn the points of + the compass.”</p> + + <p>“But wait! Not so fast! Supposing you can’t + get anyone to go?”</p> + + <p>“Why, then I’ll go alone, and heaven help + me!”</p> + + <p>“No, you won’t go alone.”</p> + + <p>“Well, I’m going to learn the points of the + compass, anyway, because it may take me a long + time to learn them all—and I shan’t mind knowing + them anyway, whether I go or not. But I’m going! + I’m sure of it. Something tells me so.”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>So I fled upstairs to the dictionary and looked + up the points of the compass. After about fifteen + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>minutes of hard studying, I could stand off from the + dictionary and repeat them all, slowly and rather + hesitatingly, from north clean round to north again. + In five more minutes I could say them off quite + smoothly, and before I got downstairs I could run + them off pretty fast—though I still had to think + hard about them. Now I can reel them off as fast as + the names of the sails of a square-rigger. They are + nothing but second nature to me. All the morning ran + through my head: “North, north by east, north-northeast, + northeast by north, northeast, northeast + by east, east-northeast, east by north, east. …” + (You have no idea how much harder that is to write + than it is to say.) + </p> + + <p>When I appeared downstairs, the family stared + at me as though I had gone absolutely cuckoo. In + fact, by this time I had not the slightest doubt that + I had. I immediately confronted them with “North, + north by east,” and the rest of it. Then I said: “Now + whom do you suggest?”</p> + + <p>“For what? To go with you?”</p> + + <p>“Ay, ay! What else should I mean? For what + else can anyone possibly serve?”</p> + + <p>“Bar, are you serious? Is it true that you really + want to go so badly as all this, or is it just one of + your jokes?”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Free Fantasia</span></p> + + <p>“Lord! Do I joke? Can’t you tell that I am + serious? What? Have you never seen me serious before? + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> + Or possibly you haven’t. Anyhow, don’t you + know when I’m serious, and when I’m not?” + </p> + + <p>And through me flowed a stream of the most + marvellous sea dreams I have ever known. I thought + of having the high white sails puffing with wind over + my head. I thought of a great ship leaning over, + I thought of pirates, buried treasure, mystic isles. I + thought of the delight of sailing, not to New York + or Boston, but to Nova Scotia—a strange country, + new to me. I thought of the companionship I might + develop with the crew. I thought of the storms, + gales, perhaps even typhoons, I might encounter. I + thought of the stories I should have to tell when I + came back, swinging to and fro in my sailor walk, + sunburned, brawny, knowing everything about the + ropes which looked as numerous to my inexperienced + eyes as sea shells on the seashore. I thought of how + strange it was that, only two weeks ago, I had considered + the whole thing well-nigh an impossible + dream, and of how, now, here I was on the point—perhaps—of + sailing myself.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>To be reasonably brief with the matter, there + was a whole lot more talk, but eventually it was decided + that, if I could get <abbr>G. S.</abbr> Bryan to go as my + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>shipmate on this adventure, the chances were all in + favor of my going—that is, if Captain Avery assented. + Otherwise the chances were distinctly unfavorable. + And so, after a lot of complicated long-distance + telephoning, I communicated the idea to the + Bryans and got them to come over Sunday (the next + day) to talk it over with us and with Captain Avery. + </p> + + <p>Of course, I spent most of my time skipping + wildly around the house, shouting out “North, north + by east …” and other ship words. Also, I spent + a good deal of time with my face buried in the dictionary, + learning new words and names, so that I + should not be landlubberly when I went off sailing + in that schooner. Off sailing—think of it! My + dreams realized so soon—so soon!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Art of Digression</span></p> + + <p>Well—and this is leaving out a great, great + many details—the Bryans did come over on Sunday, + and we all went down to assault Captain Avery. The + old skipper was most entertaining that day. He + spread out all his charts on the dining room table + and showed us his various passages, and by which + way he would go up to Nova Scotia, and which way + he had come on <em>all</em> of his previous trips; and, of + course, that involved us in listening to a great many + tales of all kinds, I really thought the man was powerless + to stop talking. He spread out chart after + chart, and explained them all to us—all the various + things which the mysterious little signs indicate. This + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> + was a whistling buoy, that a bell buoy—and so on, + absolutely endlessly. (Charts are certainly fascinating. + They show the stretches of sea all marked and + written up, even more than a land map shows the + land. They show soundings everywhere, marks for + buoys, lighthouses, and the rest, and also signs which + indicate what kind of bottom you are sailing over. + As for the land, it is simply blank, just as the sea is in + land maps—blank except for a few of the important + shore towns.) Then, after they had been rolled + up and put away, he fell to telling tales once more. + He came into a description of rough weather; and + that evidently reminded him to show off his trick + furniture, for he immediately put his hand beneath + the table and pushed a shutter of some kind, and + instantly little racks, crisscrossing each other and + running all around the edge, shot up two or three + inches above the rest of the table. “It’s a very primitive + arrangement, folks, but it certainly does come in + handy in rough weather.” + </p> + + <p>He pointed to a hook on the wall of the cabin + just beside his desk, to which was attached a long + string with an empty ink-bottle hanging at the end + of it. “Now, folks,” said he, “do ye knaow why + I hung that up there? Well, I’ll tell you. You look + very carefully and see ’f you can tell which way the + schooner is listing.” We all studied the empty ink-bottle + for some time in silence. At last Daddy said: + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>“It strikes me she lists to port a little.” “That’s + right, folks; she lists just a leetle bit to port. Yes, I + allus did have an idea that she listed a little.” + </p> + + <p>He described everything in absolute detail. He + would tell us exactly what sails he took in or let out + during such and such a trip; also exactly how many + reefs he took in this sail or that during this or that + kind of weather. And some of his pronunciations + were delightful. He was continually saying: “Ye + knaow, folks …” and he always pronounced + “route” as “rout.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Reward of Persistence</span></p> + + <p>We fell to giving little hints about our going + on the trip back with him. But he was rather obstinate, + and persisted in his own material. Some of the + hints he would take, and then slyly pass them over, + with “Oh, yes, I guess that girl would like to go + along with us! I wouldn’t mind taking her either, + if she had another girl friend to go along with her.” + This seemed to suggest something like accordance, + and we redoubled our efforts. But he persisted gently + in his “girl friend” idea, and wouldn’t take the most + obvious hints. At last we all withdrew from the + schooner, except Daddy, who stayed behind, talking. + We considered ourselves vanquished in our hopes, + and there were some pretty gloomy moments. But + Daddy shortly afterwards came tearing out on to the + wharf, looking very excited about something or + other. “Now you,” he said, “you’re going to go + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> + down to the schooner on Tuesday morning, to find + out when she sails. And then you telephone your + shipmate here, and tell him when; and then the two + of you pile aboard and away to Nova Scotia. And + I think I make out that it would relieve Captain + Avery of considerable embarrassment if you would + take along some blankets.” + </p> + + <p>My head was in a whirl, being mixed up with + the captain’s indifference to hints and Daddy’s explosion + of the welcome which the captain had apparently + given to the situation when it had been + placed before him directly. But the delight that + possessed me! I was really going to sail! Yes, in + spite of all obstacles, I was going to sail. And not + long before that I had thought of sailing only as a + vague dream far off in the future; and not long before + that I was only beginning to know a few of + the simplest things about ships, which were all vague + and romantic and fairy-like to me; and not very long + before that I didn’t know the slightest thing about + sails of any kind, and, not knowing, had not cared. + But now! Something had suddenly started to open + up to me, like a great window overlooking ships and + the sea.</p> + + <p>And I could not help a few doubts crossing my + mind. It was really a bit too good to be true, and I + was inclined to disbelieve it a little. For my superstition + warned me that something would turn up to keep + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>me from sailing—that an accident might occur + aboard, or an accident at home, or an accident that + would prevent my shipmate from accompanying me. + And, after all, it <em>was</em> too good to be true. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Anticipatory</span></p> + + <p>Yet nothing did occur. The few days flowed on + smoothly. On Tuesday morning, as had been previously + arranged, Mother and I went down to see + Captain Avery and find out when he “calculated on” + sailing. We walked down Brewery Street in a drizzling + rain, and just before reaching the wharf we encountered + the skipper himself, walking up the street + to town, with a huge umbrella over his head. We consulted + with him, standing there in the rain, for a + few minutes. He told us to be aboard the schooner + by four bells (six o’clock) that afternoon; he told us + to bring blankets, and also any small snacks, such as + crackers or fruits, which we might want for luxuries, + in case we were seasick. It seemed almost certain + that I should go. I didn’t see anything standing in + the way. Again the romance, the adventure, the + piraticalness of it overwhelmed me, and I could not + believe my senses. We walked down close to the + wharf gate and stood there for a short time, watching + them discharge the lath from the bottom of the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> + hold. They were using the main gaff as a crane. They + would swing it over the hold, tie several bundles of + the lath on to a rope from the end of it, and then + swing it out over the lumber carts, where the teamsters + would unfasten the bundles. They were working + the gaff, of course, by the machinery in the engine-room. + I was thinking about the next day, and + of being towed out into the open sea; I hardly saw + the crew toiling away in the rain, hardly heard the + steady drone of the engine. + </p> + + <p>To my delight, who should be riding back in the + same trolley but my old friend <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen? I + fell immediately to telling him all about it. “Well,” + said I, “the captain says for all hands to be aboard + by four bells this afternoon.”</p> + + <p>“So!” said he. “And you—are you all ready? + Have you got your oilskins, sea boots, sou’wester?”</p> + + <p>“Well, no. You see, I haven’t had very much + time to get ready. I only decided a few days ago that + I would sail with the schooner.”</p> + + <p>“Why, what kind of a sailor are you?” said he.</p> + + <p>“You see, mate,” I replied, “I haven’t yet decided + whether I shall enlist as a regular member of + the crew. I’m still only a passenger.”</p> + + <p>We talked some more, about his own sloop, and + what the chances were of my having a sail in her + sometime. He told us all about her—how he had + bought her, and how he had taken her all apart to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>find out what she was made of and whether she were + really seaworthy, and how he repaired her here and + there until she was as snug and tight as he could wish, + and how now he was not afraid of any weather for + her, knowing her to be as strongly made and ship-shape + as a sailor’s heart could desire. + </p> + + <p>We telephoned, and the Bryans agreed to be + over at two bells, so as to have a good margin left + over. The day seemed horribly long, I was so wild + and excited. After lunch I went to the most tipsy + rocking-chair in the house and rocked, and rocked, + and rocked—so that I should be ready for a little + rolling after meals. I didn’t honestly think I should + be seasick—but I am a very suggestible sort of + person.</p> + + <p>There was something darksome and fearful in + the air—and, in spite of my common sense, I could + not help a vague misgiving. I found myself repeating + hotly: “I’m going! Of course I’m going! There + is nothing to prevent it.”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Anxious Moments</span></p> + + <p>In the early part of the afternoon the telephone + rang. I jumped like a madman for it. It was Captain + Avery’s familiar croaking voice, and I was so startled + that my heart sank down into the toes of my + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> + boots. He was pleasant, even though he didn’t sound + as if he were accustomed to telephoning. All he + wanted was to know my address and that of my shipmate; + evidently he had to register us. + </p> + + <p>I was indescribably relieved. But the telephone + rang again a very few minutes afterward. Again I + sprang for it, and again I could feel my heart running + downstairs. Again it was Captain Avery. But + this time his voice seemed to denote trouble. “Barbara,” + he said, “do you realize that you will have + to have some identification to go into Canada—something + to show that you’re an American citizen? + You’re likely to be held up at Boston, coming back, + as an immigrant.”</p> + + <p>“But—but—what sort of identification must + I have, Captain Avery?”</p> + + <p>“Just a minute.” (Pause.) “I think a letter + from your father would do, Barbara.”</p> + + <p>“Hold the line, please, Captain Avery.” I was + absolutely terrified, now, and I was about to call for + help, when another person took up the line and said, + in a pleasant, expressionless voice, “Is your father + or mother there?”</p> + + <p>“Just a minute,” I said again—and, at the + same time, I heard the voice of Mother answering + on the telephone downstairs. For that I was grateful—so + grateful! My heart was still going like a perfect + sledge hammer, but I had to pick up the upstairs + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>receiver and listen. This is what I heard (or something + to this effect, for my brain had gone absolutely + crazy, and my senses had forsaken me. I found myself + saying: “You fool! Didn’t you know all the + time that you couldn’t—couldn’t—couldn’t go on + this trip? Didn’t you know that something would + come up? You mean to say you didn’t know that it + was far too good for yourself?”). + </p> + + <p>“Do you realize,” said the pleasant, expressionless + voice, “that an adult male is taking a minor + female into a foreign country?”</p> + + <p>“Well,” said Mother, characteristically, “I + hadn’t thought of it in just that way, but, now you + speak of it, those do seem to be the facts.”</p> + + <p>But I could listen no more. I couldn’t listen—it + was like hearkening to my own doom, and I put + down the receiver. I afterwards found out that the + rest of the talk was simply on the necessity of identification + of some kind, and what kind, and the need of + going to a lawyer about it, and so on. And here it + was, the afternoon I was supposed to sail; undoubtedly + the Bryans were now on their way; and it looked + pretty black and desperate.</p> + + <p>Mother came dashing upstairs and assaulted + me: “This is very serious, Bar. It looks as if you + mightn’t be able to go, after all. We have to go + down-town to see a lawyer, and we may not be able + to get through in time.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Calamity Threatens</span></p> + + <p> + We bustled into good clothes and bustled at full + speed down-town, through the same sort of drizzling, + melancholy rain that we had had earlier in the + day. Even the rain and the dull greyness of the day + seemed to predict no good. Yes, everything was going + wrong now—everything which, up to half an + hour ago, had been going right. What a difference a + telephone call may make! It might make, in this case, + the difference between a week of the most piratical, + adventuresome, glorious days that I had ever known, + and a week of gloomy days at home, lamenting the + marvellous chance which I had lost through carelessness, + and through not having a wider margin of time + left over. I was prepared for the blackest. But my + piratical fancies did not forsake me altogether, and + I dreamed of how delightful it would be if I could + leave home suddenly—snooping out, and flying + down the street; down to the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> Then I + should tell my friend the mate all the trouble, and I + was sure he would sympathize, and allow me to stay + aboard until she sailed back to New York. There he + would smuggle me ashore as a bundle of old clothes, + and Daddy would pick me up. Everything would go + in a mysterious, piratical fashion. It seems strange, + but none of us had ever thought of Canada as a + foreign country.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Subscribed and Sworn to</span></p> + + <p>And now I was to be put to the trial of facing + one of those formidable persons called lawyers. But + the hope of going even now put courage into my + heart, and I strode eagerly. We went into <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Holbrook’s + high office feeling very queer indeed. In that + place I looked for no surprise; but one exciting thing + did happen. When I went desperately over to the window + to get a little light, if not air, while Mother was + stating, in her most pitiful tones, the entire case, I + saw, over tier after tier of roofs and high buildings, + the blue water of the bay, and, looking like a child’s + toy dock, the old, broken wharf, and, lying alongside + it, like a child’s toy ship, the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, mirrored + in the calm water, white, noble, with her beautiful + tall masts towering up against the sky. While Mr. + Holbrook was in some of his most solemn moments + of discussion, I shrieked out: “Oh, look! There’s the + schooner now! See, down there by that tiny little + wharf. That’s the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> See? Isn’t she beautiful?” + At the same time <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Holbrook was dictating + the necessary affidavit to his secretary. It had to + be signed by each of us; and it had to be certified and + sealed by the Clerk of the Superior Court; and arrangements + had to be made for my birth-certificate + to be mailed to Nova Scotia for us on the return trip. + While Mother took care of these grave matters, I + was dashing furiously homeward in the first trolley, + to arrive before the Bryans, if possible, and explain + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> + the whole complicated mess to them. And again I + fell into my dreams of adventure. It happened that + the Bryans had not arrived when I got home, but + they had called up from Derby, and been told as + much as the house knew about it, and that had put + them into confusion, and I was very much afraid that + they had gathered from the report that they weren’t + to come at all. What a grand mess that would be! + But they did come, soon after Mother, and again the + mess was gone through, and pored over, and thought + about. We felt truly safe and sound, having such a + ponderous affidavit with us; we did indeed! “… By + and with the full consent of the deponent …”! + </p> + + <p>We drove down to the schooner to find out for + sure whether she was to sail that afternoon or the + next morning. We hoped it would be in the morning, + because we were very much crowded and confused, + and rather giddy with so many accidents and telephone + calls and lawyers and affidavits, and we wanted + time to get settled down a little and to think things + over, and to buy crackers and fruit as Captain Avery + had suggested. But I, secretly and against my common + sense, hoped to sail right then. I was furiously + eager to get away from New Haven and all its traps + and snares. Also, I feared that, if I had to spend another + night at home, I should be so excited that I + shouldn’t sleep. I should be so full of ideas about the + sea, and ships, and pirates, and adventures—and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>the trip, the actual trip that I was going on—that + I <em>knew</em> I shouldn’t sleep a wink. + </p> + + <p>We drove down in the same sort of rain we had + been having all day. We told everything to Captain + Avery; also Mother, following one of <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Holbrook’s + numerous advices, asked him if he would + please write a note to certify that we really were his + passengers, on board his schooner, from New Haven + to Bridgewater. This note we should present to the + officials at Boston if challenged.</p> + + <p>But we found, to everybody else’s joy and my + dismay, that the schooner was not to sail until + Wednesday morning. Tired and confused and a + little dizzy, I ran about among the various members + of the crew—especially the cook and mate—and + told them, with huge glee, that I should be sailing + with them. The cook, good old soul, seemed very + much delighted, and at once retold his favorite yarn + about the cold tea. The mate said he was sure I + should make a splendid sailor.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Day of Days</span></p> + + <p>Glorious! But I need not repeat my new dives + into even more wonderful sea dreams. Now, for the + first time, I could really shake off the misgiving; now + I really knew that I was to do what I had, though for + so short a time, longed to do. We ate supper down-town<!--downtown -> down-town-->. + When I got home to bed, instead of lying + awake and tossing, and becoming feverish from excitement, + I dropped like a stone into a deep, dreamless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> + sleep. I never slept more soundly in my life—except, + perhaps, afterwards, when—but wait a page + or two. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>The day dawned fair, and there seemed to be a + breeze where we were, for white fair-weather clouds + were scudding across the sky. I woke rather early; + I was wide awake in a flash, and I leaped out of bed, + clapping on my old clothes as hastily as I could. My + hair I braided up tightly, as I always do when I go on + any wild enterprise. Mother fussed a little over the + braids, and said I looked like a hobgoblin. I said that + braids were nautical, and befitted the schooner and + the sea.</p> + + <p>We took three jars of our own homemade + orange marmalade, some of which was to go to the + men in the fo’c’sle, the rest aft. We thought this + would please Captain Avery. Then, with my sailor + rags fluttering about me like a proud banner of triumph, + Mother and I marched down Armory Street + to the trolley. Mother left me down-town to wait for + the Bryans and to buy those everlasting crackers and + fruits, but I simply <em>couldn’t</em> wait, and I transferred + into another trolley and sailed down Chapel Street. + I was so absorbed in my own dreams that I almost + went past Brewery Street. But I saw the topmasts + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>of the schooner just in time, and got out. I couldn’t + resist saying to myself: “Oh, thank heaven! She is + still there.” You see, my superstition tried its hardest + to make me believe that I still might possibly be hindered + from going. It was still trying to make me see + imaginary obstacles. But I didn’t see any, and I + wouldn’t see any, and I went tearing down Brewery + Street, vaulted lightly through the little gate, and + reached the side of the ship, with my suitcase and the + three jars of marmalade. + </p> + + <p>But—what is this? Is my superstition right + after all? Are there still more difficulties? It seemed + so, for not a soul stirred on deck. I stood there, gazing + at the ship, with my suitcase in one hand, and + my heart again sinking into my boots. I was just + about to raise a hail, as I had done once before, when + a sailor-like man, in a blue cotton shirt with the + sleeves cut off at the shoulders—he was very brown, + almost coppery, with terrific muscles—strode up + to me and asked if I wanted to go aboard. He hopped + aboard, brought a ladder instantly, and lowered + it over the side.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Wager on a Delicate Subject</span></p> + + <p>In no time I was having delicious conversations + with the cook, who was telling me he was + sure I should be seasick, while the mate sat on the + bulwarks on the other side of me, telling me he + thought I shouldn’t be. The mate and the cook fell + into a sort of playful arguing, and finally they laid a + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> + wager on me—the mate wagering a quarter that I + shouldn’t be seasick, and the cook wagering his quarter + that I should. + </p> + + <p>The delight of it! Already, this intense familiarity + with the crew—and two of them wagering about + my seasickness! I could contain myself no longer. I + slipped down off the bulwarks and ran to the foremast + shrouds; then up on to the bulwarks again and + up the ratlines, quick as a squirrel, hand over hand. + There I sat on the crosstrees, in the blazing morning + sun, watching three or four of the crew who were out + on the jibboom replacing the repaired outer jib.</p> + + <p>When I came down, the mate and the cook were + still talking where I had left them. The mate began + to compliment me again on my daring aloft. He told + me about one of the crew, Richardson, who had + never been much good as a sailor, and who couldn’t + climb nearly so well as I. We watched that same + Richardson, a foolish-looking lad, going up the port + main rigging on some little task, and he seemed, indeed, + very timid and scared. He turned almost white + when he was ordered up, and he went very slowly + and cautiously. It was perfectly true that he couldn’t + climb so well as I. Then the mate came back to my + seasickness. The cook had gone back into the galley, + and evidently the mate wanted very much to argue + in favor of his wager, and strengthen his side a little. + So he said to me: “Now, ’tain’t likely as you’ll be + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>seasick. And, if you are, you’ll certainly get over it + in a couple o’ days. As long as you’ve a good head, + that makes all the difference in the world. Now, + Richardson here, he hasn’t got a head—he can’t + stand the height, and he gets seasick every trip. But + you—look at the way you go scrambling up to the + crosstrees. Them as can climb like that never get + sick.” + </p> + + <p>We talked about the trip, and what time the + captain thought he should be getting out. The captain + was then ashore, collecting the last provisions, + and they were all anxiously awaiting him and the tug + which was to tow us out of the harbor. It was, of + course, dead calm in there, but there was a line of + vivid blue out beyond, and it looked like a breeze. + I asked the mate, in order to air my knowledge a bit, + if four bells had yet struck. But the mate evidently + saw my trap and thought that I was talking about + what I knew nothing of, and he queried in a tone of + obvious scorn: “What is four bells?” And I was + proud to reply without the slightest hesitation: + “Ten o’clock, mate.”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Purchase on Suspicion</span></p> + + <p>But now, in spite of the pleasure of sitting and + yarning with my matey, I began to think over again + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> + the delight, the impossibly delightful idea, of the + voyage. And I fairly squirmed and itched all over. + Of course I was impatient for the return of the captain. + Shortly he appeared, with a large and mysterious-looking + bundle under his arm. Said he to Mother, + who was standing on the wharf: “I bet you can’t + guess what I’ve got here!” and he chuckled mysteriously. + </p> + + <p>“No; what is it?”</p> + + <p>He chuckled some more. “Well, I’ll tell you! + I’ve got two brand-new <em>pails</em>, in case they get seasick!”</p> + + <p>To myself I was thinking: “Supposing we fool + you? Then your new pails would go to waste, + wouldn’t they?” For I was secretly pretty sure I + should be steady. I talked a little to the captain, asking + him what time he thought we should be under + way, and how soon he expected the tug; for now + everything was ready, and we were to slide out to + sea as soon as the tug appeared. The mate got up + instantly when the captain drew near—not to be + caught idling, I suppose—and began to busy himself + about the deck. That man has a marvellous + knack of finding things to do. When he feels like + working, he can always find a thousand little jobs to + do here and there.</p> + + <p>Mother came aboard, too, and talked with the + captain and the mate. The mate was extraordinarily + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>pleasant, telling her all about what a fine climber I + was and what a good head I had, and saying that he + didn’t think I would be sick. A man had come from + town along on to the wharf—seemingly a very nice + person, dressed in city clothes. He leaned over the + bulwarks, talking to Mother, and telling her how he + loved to see the schooners that still came into New + Haven now and then, and how rare they were now, + and how lucky I was to be sailing with the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, and how soon he’d go if he had the chance. + </p> + + <p>And, amid all these happenings, the tug which + was to tow us out to sea had chugged up slowly, and + now lay alongside the schooner to port. There was + shouting and <i>yoho</i>‑ing among the two crews, and + through the confusion could be heard the hoarse, + loud voice of Captain Avery, rapidly giving his orders. + He seemed to me to have a clear idea of what + he wanted done, but, if a moment were lost in the + execution of his orders, he immediately became nervous + and hectic. Towropes were got out and thrust + through the cable-holes. Now our mate had skipped + ashore and loosened the ropes which held the ship + to the posts on the wharf; then he called out to me to + untangle the rope where it was snarled around the + capstan. Shortly afterwards I was sent to coil it up + in a snug, neat coil.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Outward Bound</span></p> + + <p>Now everything was astir. The schooner was + securely made fast to the tug by a long, stout towrope. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> + This was let out, and the schooner began + slowly, slowly to move from the wharf. Now she was + quietly turning upon her heel, and soon she was + headed out for the open sound, past the breakwaters, + past the lighthouses. I felt her sliding on beneath me. + There were several little yachts and small sailboats + in the bay: they turned and stared at us as we went + gliding past. Beautiful indeed we must have looked—but + of that I was hardly thinking; indeed, I was + thinking of few things, my head was in such a whirl + with the delight of the moment. + </p> + + <p>The wharf grew more and more distant, and + the smoking town, too. I was glad to realize that, at + length, we were leaving it behind and were bound for + the open, free sea and the wild winds and waves. + Now we saw East Rock and West Rock as small + nubbins of hills in the distance. The tug was to stay + with us until we had rounded the tip of a long green + peninsula which jutted out into the bay. Beyond + this I could still see the bright blue which seemed to + denote wind. Now the tug had reached full momentum, + and the great schooner was gliding pretty + swiftly through the water. More and more distant + grew the land behind us—nearer and nearer the + open sea.</p> + + <p>I was called back to myself by the sudden sound + of an engine running. The bo’s’n had started our + engine, and now the sails were to be run up. Oh, was + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>it true? Could it possibly be true that we were going + to run up sails? that there really were a few sails left + in this modern world? I heard the voice of Captain + Avery giving orders. “Mainsail up first—then foresail, + forestaysail, and jibs—put up the spanker and + topsails last. Lively there, boys!” And—it was so + glorious that I had to pinch myself and rub my eyes + hard—the peak halyards were wound around the + winch on one side of the engine-room, and the throat + halyards around the other, and now, amid the roaring + of the engine and the quivering of the great tackles, + up went the gaff slowly, quivering and shaking; + up went the sail, spreading out gracefully, as white + hoop after white hoop ran up the tall mainmast. Up + and up and up! Then the mainsail was stretched to its + full length, and the gaff came to rest just below the + crosstrees. Never had I realized what a vast expanse + the sails have. The halyards were made fast. + And now the foresail, too, shivering and groaning, + began to reach up. It, too, was soon made fast. And + then the beautiful jibs, two at a time, went rolling + up, their long points seeming to reach into the sky + itself. The first two were the forestaysail and jib, the + last the flying jib and outer jib. The schooner shuddered. + The engine had awakened her; the sea had + called, and she was answering. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Under Sail at Last</span></p> + + <p>We were now almost out of the bay. A gentle + puff of wind rose, and I saw the great white sails + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span> + lifting and filling. Then, when the wind died down, + they collapsed. And now we had cast the towrope. + The tug fell away. We felt like a queen on the ocean, + dominating the little boat proudly. Now the tug + circled, wheeled about, and started for the wharf + again. The <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> ran up her spanker, the largest + sail of all, headed her nose for the open, and + began to sail gently on with a steady little breeze + puffing out the sails. We were off! We were headed + for who knows what strange and mysterious adventures? + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>About the first thing we did was to have dinner. + We went below aft, and fed on the same sort of + sailor grub that Mother and I had had the night we + ate supper there. I was sorry that I had to break up + the delight by having dinner, and I finished hastily, + and went back on deck as soon as possible. Yes, we + were sailing. The bo’s’n was at the wheel. I talked + to him a while. The wind seemed to be rising just a + little bit. I tried my best to make the schooner seem + to be rolling, but all I could see was a slight waving + of the horizon up and down; I couldn’t feel it at all. + But the sails were full and steady, and oh! so beautiful + they seemed to me. I could see myself entering + into the spirit of sailing right off. I had the most + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>curious sensations I have ever experienced—of + mystery, of adventure; I can’t describe it at all. But + I could think myself a sailor. The crew were now unfurling + the topsails. When they were all loosened, + the topsail halyards were hauled, and up went the + topsails, one at each topmast, sharp mountain-peaks + on the lower sails. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Amenities in the Galley</span></p> + + <p>But, thought I, I mustn’t neglect my duty + through sheer delight. I ran up to the galley, had a + talk with the cook about almost everything under the + sun, and dried his dishes and helped clean up the + galley for him. He thanked me cordially and very + touchingly, and I resolved to help him a great deal. + He seemed like such a sad little old man! I never + knew quite what to make of him. The arched wrinkles + upon his high, bald forehead, his smallness and + robustness, all combined to make him a very curious-looking + specimen. He wore, too, a sort of butcher’s + apron arrangement, and somehow the strings dangling + behind always seemed comical to me. But he + knew more about ships than anyone there, and he + seemed rather disgusted at the greenness of this + young crew. “Oh, Lordy, Lordy,” he would say, + “that crew—they give me a pain. Why, in old days, + when the sails were much harder to hoist up, and + when all the work was a cursed sight harder—why, + we poor sailors would get flogged and fired fer bein’ + so slow as on this schooner. And here, they have an + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> + engine and everything made to suit them, yit they + dawdle and lazy around and don’t seem to know + how to do nothing.” + </p> + + <p>There seemed now to be quite a breeze outside. + I could somehow feel the deck sliding from beneath + me, and I staggered around in the galley, much to + the amusement of the cook, who put his hands on his + hips, and roared aloud, and told me I hadn’t got my + “sea legs on yit.” I stepped out of the galley to see + what the weather was doing. It was sparklingly clear. + The sun made mazes of color on the blue sea. The + wind <em>was</em> coming up, and I could see the waves sloshing + against the side of the schooner. We were slipping + down along the coast of Rhode Island, a low green + bar far off. The ship was leaning gently and quietly + before the rising wind. The sails looked fuller and + puffier than ever, and the breeze was very fresh + and delightful. I returned to the galley and said: + “Well, there seems to be quite a breeze out, cook.” + But the cook was not to be fooled with a landsman’s + idea of a breeze. And he replied in a truly pathetic + tone of voice: “Oh! Oh! There’s such a terrible + wind out—I’m seasick!” and he laughed and + laughed.</p> + + <p>The dishes were finished very shortly. I went + on deck and sat and watched the sea. I had such a + marvellous sense of remoteness! In spite of the long + green coast, I could not help feeling that we were + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>out in mid-ocean—and when I turned my back to + that edge of land I was sure of it. The sea seemed to + stretch away boundlessly. The sky was of a marvellous + color, but away off on the horizon there were + banks of clouds, casting weird and lovely shadows + down on the far skyline—maroons, wine-colors, + green, and dark, dark blue. Very strange! And the + sails seemed white—oh! so white—in spite of the + fact that they were somewhat dirty with rough + handling. + </p> + + <p>The wind was steadily rising all the time, and + the schooner keeled over gently and quietly, more + and more, on her starboard side. When I ran to the + starboard bulwarks to look down into the waves, all + I saw was the raging white bone which the schooner + carried proudly in her white teeth—a mass of foam, + white, whiter than fresh-blown snow, curling into + gorgeously weird and beautiful shapes, with a rushing + noise as its small bubbles went out, thousands at a + time. How angry the sea was becoming! The waves + rose high and high—ten times higher than in any + gale I had ever fought in the canoe. The waves + roared, the wind moaned, the whitecaps rose up mysteriously + like snow-palaces and then subsided again. + All this time the sea was becoming overcast with + clouds, and now the waves were shadowed and + strange. And to see them, in their dark green and + blue, with those castles of foam surmounting each + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>wave like proud ivory—oh, this was sailing! And + yet it was nothing to what was to come. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Waves and Foam</span></p> + + <p>The schooner was keeled away over now, but + she didn’t roll a bit. She was absolutely steady, and + kept on her course without varying a quarter point, + straight as an arrow. I shall never forget the delight + with which I went to the fo’c’sle deck, where I sat as + far as I could squeeze into the peak of the bow and + looked down on the port side, where the raging sea + seemed far, far below; and then down on the starboard + side, where it was near, and angry, and lapping + furiously at the ship, and reaching hungrily for it. + And from there I could look down straight ahead + and see the foam, I could see where the sharp cutwater + divided the seas in half, and I could see one + long chain of foam reaching down the port side and + another down the starboard—each of them like + a range of towering snow-capped mountains. And + three or four white-winged gulls swooped and darted + about, looking, as they flew low over the waves, like + whitecaps themselves.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>For a good part of the afternoon this kept up. + But, alas, towards night I could feel the breeze going + down, and the schooner slowly and gradually righted + herself, and the sails were close-hauled a little to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>catch every bit of breeze that was coming to us. And + then I began to feel the roll. I could see the horizon + ahead of us waving up and down. It was a delightful + sensation, like that of a seesaw, for the schooner was + not pitching, but only rolling head-on. All the same, + I was sorry to find the sails flapping. First they would + puff out suddenly at a little spurt of wind, then slowly + empty again and hang idly flapping. Calmer and + calmer it grew, and then the tackle began to rattle + and groan: and what a racket it did make! + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Sunset at Sea</span></p> + + <p>I believe there is no other din aboard a sailing + vessel that is anywhere nearly so loud, tiresome, or + monotonous as that which the tackle makes in a calm. + First the sails would swing out to the full stretch of + their sheets, either when the schooner rolled forward + or when a tiny spurt of wind suddenly rose; + then they would bring up short against the sheet with + a terrific groaning as the ropes became taut with a + jerk; then, on the return, the booms would swing + back in again and every bit of breeze would go out + of the sails. They would flap, and billow and roll + uncannily, with the reef points jigging about like live + creatures. This would go on while the schooner + rolled back, and then, as she dived forward again, + the sails jerked back on the full reach of the sheet. + The sails would fill for a brief moment, and during + that moment each reef point would tap its tip upon + the taut canvas, each at a slightly different time, so + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> + that there was a sort of <i>purr‑r‑r‑r‑r‑r‑r‑r!</i> and almost + at the same time the sails would relax. Again they + would billow and flap, and again swing back inwards. + And a terrible creaking and groaning was + going on all the time, until, if you listened to it, it + would almost drive you crazy. + </p> + + <p>The schooner was now rolling deeply. Below + in the cabin, everything was banging about. The inside + of it was so much more like a house than the + deck was, that I could scarcely persuade myself I was + on a ship; and it seemed strange to feel a house rolling + and swinging.</p> + + <p>The air, in spite of the calm, remained clear and + sharp, and there was a glorious sunset. Long fingers + of fire reached out in fan-like shapes from the horizon, + and the sky was all flushed with rose. To see a + sunset from a schooner! We were so enchanted with + our new kind of life that we stayed up very late that + night. It grew dark quickly; night came down upon + us like a sudden black cloud, and it grew cold. A + breeze came up—just enough to hold the beautiful + great sails steady as though they had been carved of + marble, and to make a glimmering pair of foamwings + along the sides of the ship.</p> + + <p>It was then, standing by the wheel in the dark, + that I had my first real talk with the mate. It was + also the first time I thought of him as piratical-looking. + He was, when I stopped to think about it, the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>most piratical-looking person I ever laid eyes upon. + He is very dark and swarthy, with luxuriant black + hair and eyes the most wicked-looking on earth; + wicked, yet strangely playful at the same time, and + with a curious twinkle which shows when anything + amuses him. And he is a silent, mysterious, soft-footed + person, who looks as though he were brooding + dark and treacherous things—perhaps concocting + a mutiny. And, standing there in the dark, his + pirate face sharply silhouetted against the brightness + of the starry sky, he made me feel as though I were + cabin-boy on a pirate ship. But this is looking at him + from only one side. In the morning, and on sunny + days, one wouldn’t suspect that he was piratical. + There is only a hidden suggestion of it—a faint + smile of treachery in his eyes, and something that is + evil in his chuckle. It is on foggy days, and in the + late of the afternoon when it begins to grow dark, + that the pirate in him shows. He is the one for us to + sail with, Alan, if we ever start off on a treasure-expedition! + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Rolling Sky</span></p> + + <p>When I saw the stars, I had a strange experience. + In spite of the small breeze which kept the sails + from making their infernal racket, there was quite a + roll and swing and swoop to the ship; she dipped her + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> + prow like the wings of a sea gull. But when, looking + up at the high stars, I picked out one bright one + above the truck of the mizzen-mast, and was just beginning + to try to identify it, I saw it swinging about + the mast in bewildering and beautiful curves and + flashes of gold; and, to my puzzled eyes, it seemed + to leave a burning track behind it. I have seen shooting + stars; I saw one two years ago which glided very + slowly and softly across the northern half of the sky—so + slowly that I could watch every motion of it. + And my first thought was that this revolving star was + a specially magical shooting star. But I never saw a + shooting star make bewildering curves and circles. I + looked at the other stars, and they all seemed to be + gyrating crazily about the sky, sometimes fast, sometimes + slowly. And then I could feel the mighty ocean + throbbing beneath me, and again I looked at the + mast, and it seemed stock-still against the wheeling + sky; yet I could feel the schooner rolling and pitching + in the swell. Of course, the sky was just as it + ought to be: it was the mast, the schooner, that rolled + as the sea heaved. + </p> + + <p>The moon had not yet risen, and everything was + pitch dark except for magical sparks of starlight. + All the afternoon we had been continually passing + small steamers and barges, and I had never thought + they were beautiful until now. I was too devoted to + my original idea of vessels with sails to pay much + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>attention to little “chuggers,” as the crew often + called them. But now, at night, they suddenly became + fairy-like. A small steamer would click slowly + by across our bow, with a swash of foam, and she + looked like an enchanted ship out of some mysterious + land of stars. Then a long string of barges + passed us far ahead, all towed by a small power boat, + and each one gleaming with red and green and yellow + lights. One after another they passed, at even intervals, + until we had begun to think that there would + never be an end to them. And when they had gone, + we were again alone in the darkness, except for the + far-away lights on shore. + </p> + + <p>I ran up forward as soon as it was dark, to + watch Roy set our side lights. These are large, + strong lanterns, one red, one green, which are set in + cases a few steps up the rigging. The green one is to + starboard, the red to port. They cast mysterious + color-shadows on to the sea by our sides.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Moon-magic</span></p> + + <p>Then the captain began to tell us about the + small power boats known as “rum-chasers.” You + are likely to see them at any time, cruising about and + keeping an eye on all the sea traffic. Sometimes, he + said, they board a schooner and examine her cabins + and cargo. We had seen several of these boats ploughing + at terrific speed through the waves, piling up + mountains of foam. One of them now speeded up to + us through the darkness and cast a powerful search-light + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> + upon our stern, apparently to read our name. + And those long rays shone out strangely in the darkness. + Then the boat wheeled about and tore off, diving + and rearing and plunging. + </p> + + <p>And now I began to see a strange, soft light + over in the east. I watched and watched, and then + I began to see the top of the full moon’s circle. Up + and up she came, huge in the darkness, and shining + like sunlight on snow. I had often dreamed of sailing + by moonlight. And now my dreams were realized. + Now the breeze held everything quiet, and, except + for the swing and roll of the ship and the rushing + of the foam divided by her cutwater, everything was + silent—oh, so silent and beautiful!</p> + + <p>We were on a long run with the wind on our + port beam, so that the sails were blown mysteriously + over to starboard. They were so still, so soft and + still and rounded, that I could scarcely believe they + were full of wind. Of course the binnacle lamp was + now lighted; and strange it seemed to be steering by + that faint glimmer. And now the moon was rising + higher—higher. I looked forward at the front part + of the ship, and saw the moonlight full on those taut + sails, making the moon’s side of them shine like newfallen + snow, while the inside was dark, gray, and + shadowed. How lovely it was to see them gleaming + with that strange light, while on and on they bore us + without a sound!</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> + + <p>I ran up forward on the fo’c’sle deck. The lookout + was sitting there, whistling faintly. It gave me + a curious feeling to find him there. Ships had lately + become so mysterious that I had actually begun to + think such things as two-hour tricks, lookouts, and + the like were slightly too romantic to be true—though, + in the nature of the case, they <em>must</em> be true. + And, though I knew that there must be a lookout at + night, yet, when I found the man sitting there, alone, + on the fo’c’sle deck, I was surprised. This was growing + more like the old sailing days with every minute!</p> + + <p>I had gone up forward for the simple purpose + of looking at those moonlit sails from all parts of + the ship. Now I saw the jibs once more from close + up; and beautiful they were, rounded with wind, running + up their slender points into the sky, and flooded + with the snowy moonlight like all the other great, + majestic sails. Sometimes their rounded outer sides + were huge, dome-like mountains with crowns of snow—mountains + whose flanks were shadowed, but + whose summits loomed out into the full moonlight. + Then I looked over the bow, and saw the foam + down there, looking more than ever like two white + wings. With the moonlight shining on it, it was + ghostly white and curling—moonlight on newfallen + mountain snow! The sea itself, very dark green, + mysteriously heaving and throbbing, was shadowy + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>except on the eastern side, where the moonlight + changed it to a delicate mass of quivering, shifting + silver. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Sailor on Seafaring</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>When I returned aft, after I had sat there on + the fo’c’sle deck in the moonlight for a long time, + the mate was standing just where I had left him. Evidently + it was his watch on deck. He began talking to + me immediately—telling me about what a miserable + business sailor life was. “It’s all right in summer,” + he said; “yes, it’s real fun in summer when there’s + no rough weather, but, I tell you, it’s a rotten, beastly + business in winter. Imagine how it would be to get + down the sails in a blizzard, when there’s snow and + hail and sleet flyin’ around so thick you can’t see, and + when your hands freeze up, and you can’t keep warm + no matter how many clothes you have on—and + when you <em>have</em> to stand your four hours, whether + you want to or not, no matter in what kind of + weather, and when you <em>have</em> to be ready for a call, + whether it’s your watch or not. I tell you, it’s no fun. + You know, Barbara, I could get plenty of good jobs + ashore, with just as good pay as I get here. But—there’s + somethin’ about it, in spite of the hard work, + and so on; and I just stay and stay, and I don’t seem + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>to leave the sea. So I guess I’m a sailor for life, + now!” + </p> + + <p>I had discovered that Bill was his name, and for + fun I always used to call him Mate Bill, because of + Billy Bones in <i>Treasure Island</i>. I told Bill my opinion + of sailing, and how I had always wanted to sail, + and how glad I was to see that there still were sailing + vessels in the world besides fishing schooners. + Also we discussed the weather for tomorrow. I told + Bill that I wished we could have a real gale of wind, + because I had never been at sea, and had never seen + anything in the way of rough weather except some of + the breezes we used to have on inland lakes. I told + him there would be whitecaps, and good white foam, + and black squalls, but that they were nothing compared + with even the little wind I had seen that afternoon.</p> + + <p>Soon Bill strode over to the port bulwarks and + looked down into the water. I looked down, too, and + to my surprise there were mysterious sparkles in the + sea, close to the side of the ship. They were much like + firefly sparkles, except that they stayed longer and + faded slowly. Bill didn’t know what caused them, but + he said that they were always a sign of a strong + northeast wind. I expressed my delight and said that + I hoped for a terrific gale. Bill thought he would + tease a little; he said: “Oh, you want to get there + too fast! I guess you’re eager to be leavin’ us.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Words on the Weather</span></p> + + <p>“No, it isn’t that, mate. I should just like to + see some rough weather, never having seen any on + the sea.”</p> + + <p>“And right you are. I should like you to see + some weather out here, except that I know you’d be + seasick—and then I should lose my quarter!” he + added, chuckling slyly. That man has an irresistible + chuckle—very piratical and treacherous indeed. + “But,” he went on, “I don’t believe we’ll have any + really rough weather out here—’cause it’s June, + and it’s summer, and you almost never get much wind + then. But I guess it wouldn’t take much to have you + call it a gale!”</p> + + <p>“No, I guess not.”</p> + + <p>“You know,” he said, “I don’t like the idea one + bit of a northeaster, ’cause that is exactly the way + we’re trying to sail—northeast—and it will slow + us up a lot.”</p> + + <p>“Well, that won’t be so bad,” said I. “Because + then I’ll have my rough weather, and yet I shan’t + have to leave you so soon! And I should like very + much to see how a big sailing vessel tacks, too.”</p> + + <p>“Well,” said Bill, “you’ll see some tacking, all + right, if we have a northeast gale.”</p> + + <p>He talked about the whales which he had seen. + He said we were always likely to see one, and that + they had seen one seventy-five feet long on the trip + down from Nova Scotia. (But I didn’t ask whether + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span>he had measured it with a tape measure.) He said + that there were also a great number of blackfish in + the sea, which swam and blew just like whales, but + were ever so much smaller. + </p> + + <p>At last he went back to the life at sea. “I’ve + sailed as cook quite a lot, Barbara, too.”</p> + + <p>“Which do you like better, being mate or + cook?” I asked.</p> + + <p>“Well, ’t’s hard to tell. There’s good things to + say for both. I kinda think I like bein’ mate. The + cook’s job is a mighty pleasant one, though. He don’t + have to stand no watch, or git wet ’n’ cold in bad + weather—he jist sits tight in a warm galley and + cooks the meals. You may want t’ be mate, but there + are some times, I tell you, when you’d like bein’ cook. + ’t’s no fun taking in the sails in winter, in a blizzard; + ’n’ ’t’s no fun standin’ four hours’ watch in freezin’ + weather.”</p> + + <p>It was getting on to ten o’clock—four bells—and + we turned in, leaving the mate alone with his + watch. I think I have never—even on mountain-tops—slept + more soundly. The roll was like that of a + cradle, and it wasn’t enough to be uncomfortable, as + it grew to be later—only a gentle, easy motion that + put me off to sleep in a flash.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Teasing a Landsman</span></p> + + <p>I woke up bright and early, and went on deck. + The day started off with just enough breeze to feel + fresh and cool and to keep the sails steady. We were + passing Martha’s Vineyard, and the big island + looked very green over on the horizon—a long, + rather high green bar, in sudden contrast to the + bright sea-blue.</p> + + <p>We were now getting into the shoals which + Captain Avery had showed us two or three times on + the charts. There were buoys, lightships, and lobster-trap + buoys everywhere. Every now and then we + would pass a lightship with, painted on it, the name + of the shoal at which it was stationed. There were + odd names—Handkerchief, Half Moon, Stone + Horse.</p> + + <p>Going down to breakfast with a very good appetite, + I couldn’t help counting off on my fingers the + number of meals I had had without the slightest seasick + feeling. The crew were very teasing and bothersome + all day about it. They kept asking me, every + time I was silent and stood gazing down into the + water, whether I were seasick. I laughed—I + couldn’t become angered with those people whom I + had always wanted for companions—took their + teasing as a matter of course, and determined to + make them respect me later on. I had already won + the esteem of the cook. I dried dishes for him again + after breakfast. Then I saw that the mate had a + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>broom out and was sweeping the deck. Wishing to + be of service, I said: “Don’t you want me to help?” + </p> + + <p>“Do you like to sweep?” said he.</p> + + <p>“Sure!” I replied.</p> + + <p>He gave a curious, pleased grin and left the + broom where he had been working. I picked it up and + began, rather deftly, I thought, to sweep in narrow + corners of the deck and under coils of rope. I started + working down from the port bow; the mate went to + fetch another broom and swept down from the starboard + bow; and together we made quite brisk work + of it. Then the mate fetched a shovel, dumped + the débris overboard, and thanked me. Yes, I would + show that crew that I was no more afraid of work + than any of them.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Steward on Skipper</span></p> + + <p>I rather liked Bob, the bo’s’n. The youngest + aboard, except possibly Richardson, he had been + at sea only two years, but already he had risen in + rank. He was a most amusing lad. He told me all + about his family, and about himself, and about Bill; + and, when I asked him if he didn’t like having Bill + for a mate (I believe I forgot to say that Bill and + Bob are brothers), he replied that it didn’t make + the slightest difference to him, except that perhaps he + didn’t get so much blame for things. He is remarkably + careless when he is steering. If the captain + orders the spanker to be close-hauled, Bob leaves + the wheel in mid-air, as it were, and fixes the sail. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> + He told me that all the other boys made a mess of + steering—that they were always turning the wheel + this way or that way; but that he found the right + position and then let it take care of itself, as it would + for some time. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>The day turned out remarkably exciting. To + begin with, my shipmate and I went forward, in the + middle of the morning, to talk with the cook, who + was sitting sedately in the galley doorway, looking + very curious and sad. He seemed mighty glad to + have someone to talk to. He rattled on for a while + in a delightful way, about this and that and the other + thing; really he was much more entertaining than + Captain Avery, and he stuck to one subject longer. + But I was watching the sea and the sky and the sails, + and I didn’t pay much attention to him until I heard + something that made me prick up my ears.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Oral Portrait of the Skipper</span></p> + + <p>“As for Captain Avery,” he was saying, “I + never knew an uglier, more nasty, more contemptible + man. I never knew a man that could do one half the + mean things he does. Why, he’s famed all along the + coast of Nova Scotia for being a rascal! I tell you, + he’s never paid a bill in his life without making a + row over it. Why, even the men who came to buy the + lumber we brought down—he tried to cheat them + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>out of the few dollars they earned. Now, here, I get + sixty dollars a month for cookin’ for this schooner. + I can’t even get that much without some kind of a + bally row. And every man of this crew is dissatisfied. + If you don’t believe me, go ask some of them. They’ll + tell you what they think of him! You know, I’ve been + cook of this vessel before, and, when the owner enlisted + me agin, I didn’t want to go. Says I: ‘Now + I just can’t get along with Captain Avery, and I refuse + to sail on this vessel while he’s skipper.’ But the + owner says: ‘Now, Si, you’re all wrong about the captain.’ + ‘He hates me,’ says I. ‘now, Si,’ says he, ‘he + told me with his own lips that he thought you was a + fine cook, and that he thought very highly of you.’ + ‘Oh, nonsense,’ says I, ‘I’ve sailed with Captain + Avery before, and I know what I know—he hates + me!’ Well, the owner coaxed and coaxed, and finally + I said I would go, for sixty dollars a month. But + Captain Avery don’t play fair with me. He tells me + to my face he dislikes my cooking. How can I help + that, when he won’t give a fellow anything to cook + with? You wouldn’t believe it when I tell you, but I + haven’t got a drop of flavoring extract of any kind + on board this vessel. And he always buys provisions + of the very poorest kind—the poorest, cheapest, + dirtiest brands of coffee and tea they make. Why, I + asked him if he didn’t think he ought to get some + fancy biscuits or cookies of some kind, for you folks—and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> + do you know what he got? By the Lord, do + you know what he got? Uneeda Biscuits! Do you + want me to tell you why he never plays the graphophone? + ’cause he almost never does. Do you want me + to tell you? He’s too stingy to use the needles! Once + that man was made captain of a Chinese vessel, with + a Chinese crew and cook. Before he had been on the + ship ten minutes the cook chased him ashore with a + drawn cutlass. Do you know why? ’cause he come + nosing around and poking his blasted head into the + cook’s galley. Now, the galley belongs to the cook, + and no one else is supposed to interfere with the + cook’s work, and it made the Chinese cook mad to + see him come interfering. So he just drew his cutlass + and chased the man ashore.” (I had an idea that it + would be untactful to inquire how Captain Avery + happened to be in China.) + </p> + + <p>“Why, I’m very surprised to hear all this about + Captain Avery,” said I. “When he came up to lunch + we thought he was very entertaining and delightful. + He strikes me as a very nice old sailor.”</p> + + <p>It must have taken the cook fifteen or twenty + minutes to get the captain denounced to his satisfaction. + His voice had been growing louder and more + vehement, with more and more small oaths intermingled, + and when I interrupted him he was talking + with a force that almost shook the galley, so that I + felt that it was going to rise up and blow away any + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>minute. I think he would have gone on until supper + if I hadn’t interrupted. + </p> + + <p>He soon began again. “So you thought he was + a nice old fellow, did you? Well, I’m surprised. + Couldn’t you see by the look in the face of him what + he was like?”</p> + + <p>“Why, no. It struck me he was a very good-looking + old fellow—very kind and quiet.”</p> + + <p>“Well, if you had lived as long as I have, you + would know,” he went on savagely. “And, I tell you, + I seen a fellow that the owner wanted to enlist for + a voyage some time back, with Captain Avery for + skipper, and the fellow had it all arranged; but when + he seen the look in the face of that man, he backed + out right off, and said: ‘Not me, thanks! Why, to + look at that man, I wouldn’t sail along of him for a + hundred dollars!’ and he didn’t, neither.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Consequences of Deafness</span></p> + + <p>So here was the key to that hatred in the face + of the cook whenever he looked at the captain! And + immediately we began to see Captain Avery in a new + light. We didn’t really believe all that had been said + about him, but we began to open our ears and eyes + and look about us more sharply. We began to hear + things which the crew said about him; and we noticed + a small, shrill cry, like the peep of a bird, which the + bo’s’n uttered now and then. At first we had supposed + this to be the bo’s’n’s giggle, but we soon discovered + that he was mocking the captain. And, listening + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> + closely, we could make out the words of this + mockery. Whenever the captain gave an order, the + mate, usually in the forward part of the vessel, would + repeat it, and then would come this shrill, small, + mocking voice of the bo’s’n, croaking out the order—echoing + word for word everything the skipper + had said. + </p> + + <p>Captain Avery would stand on deck, with his + head thrust forward, his back hunched up, and his + mouth open. And his voice seemed uglier and harsher + than ever to us. Also, he was slightly deaf, and he + had an annoying habit of saying “Hey?” every time + anyone spoke to him, whether he had really heard or + not. This used to amuse us, because when he said that + word “Hey?” he would drawl it out into space, + squeezing the last drop out of it; but now it began + to annoy us a great deal. We formed a habit of waiting + when he said “Hey?” until sure whether he had + really heard us or not. Often after “Hey?” he + would answer what had been asked him.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Sad to relate, the wind died down soon before + dinner. The sails went through the same noisy tactics + as during the afternoon of the first day. I couldn’t + believe that anything could be noisier than the way + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>they had banged about at that time, but it was nothing + to this. We could hardly hear ourselves think, + and the inside of the cabin was pandemonium. The + doors were banging, dishes were jingling, the whole + cabin was swinging back and forth crazily. Through + it all the cook was standing very firmly on his two + legs, getting dinner ready. If I wanted to stand up + for a moment, I had to brace my feet far apart; but + the cook was standing at ease, his body yielding + gracefully to every motion, while pots and pans were + swinging about on the walls, and the tea slopping + every which way. As the cook said, I hadn’t got + my “sea legs on yit.” I didn’t feel one speck seasick, + though the crew redoubled their efforts to irritate + me by teasing; and I went dancing down to + dinner. But—something about the hotness and stuffiness + down below, and the unsteady way in which the + chairs were tipping about, and the way the table rose + and fell, and the smell—the greasy, fat gravy smell + which always saturated the cook’s cooking—turned + me almost inside out; and, though I ate dinner, I + found, just as I was almost through, that I must get + out into the open air—there was not a moment to + lose! I grabbed the piece of bread and butter which + I had been eating, and raced up the stairs without + one word of apology or explanation. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Acquiring Sea Legs</span></p> + + <p>The fresh air braced me right up. I didn’t get + over my weak and dizzy feeling for two or three days, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> + and I ate nothing but oranges and crackers, and those + out on deck; but I was never actually sick. I hardened + myself during those two or three days; and when + the real weather came I minded it no more than dirt. + What I did when I began to feel qualmy was to lie + down cautiously on top of the deckhouse, in the cool + shadow of the sails, and sleep it off. Then I would + feel myself for two or three hours; then do the same + thing again. In this way I found some very delightful + places for naps. My favorite was on the + spanker boom—right on the broad saddle of the + boom, of course on the windward side of the sail. But + this was impossible except in weather when there was + enough breeze to hold the sail steady. In calm weather + I was often jerked and flapped right off by the sudden + reverse motion of the sail, or by the endless tugging + and pulling of the boom, or by the way it lifted whenever + the sail filled, and then let down with a jerk + when the sail emptied. It was fun enough for a short + time; but it quickly grew tiring, and I would find a + more comfortable place to sleep. + </p> + + <p>My dizziness gradually wore off, even during + the course of that day, and, especially when I did + something about the decks, I forgot all about it. The + only trouble was that I couldn’t go into the galley + to dry the dishes for my friend the old cook. As soon + as I sniffed the smell of greasy gravy—So I sat in + the doorway, poking my head in now and then to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>talk, and then breathing out into the fresh air again. + I have forgotten to say that early that morning the + captain had complimented us on our endurance, saying + that he had thought we should both be turning + our toes up by morning, because of the rolling we had + had on the first afternoon. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Just after dinner, as I emerged from the cabin + in that mad dash of mine, we saw far off on the horizon + a beautiful four-masted schooner coming down + from the northeast. What small wind there was was + behind us, and it was a head wind for her. She was + on the starboard tack. Now, I hadn’t realized that + at sea there is a definite system of traffic laws among + ships. Being on the starboard tack, she had right of + way of us, and she crossed our bows very near us, + but not so near that we had to heave to. She managed + it very neatly, shaving right across clean as an arrow. + I was surprised at the progress we were making, in + spite of what seemed like the total absence of wind; + we approached each other quite fast, and had passed + before long. It struck me that the breeze might be + coming up a little. Yes, evidently it was, for the sails + weren’t making so much racket, and the surface of + the murmuring ocean seemed bluer and more restless.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p> + <p><span class="sidenote">Weather Prophecy</span></p> + + <p>The lofty four-master passed us, and we could + see that her sails were rippling and banging about + like our own. I watched and watched her until she + disappeared. If we looked as lovely as she did to us, + we must have been a beautiful sight. I noticed that + both her helmsman and ours turned their heads and + looked at each other.</p> + + <p>Bill and I got to talking again about the + weather. It struck me that this was a pretty poor + apology for the northeast gale which he had promised, + and I told him so. He only chuckled, shrugged + his shoulders meaningly, and said: “You wait! We’ll + have a little breeze-o’-wind yet.” That phrase, + “breeze-o’-wind,” somehow always delighted me. + Then he added, as a tiny bluish squall, a kitten’s-paw, + swept over the quiet silver sea: “See! There comes + that breeze-o’-wind now!”</p> + + <p>The breeze, what there was, swung around + gradually into the northeast; but it was light and + variable, and it was really hard to tell where it was + coming from. We beat and floundered about all the + afternoon, making attempts at tacking, though we + hardly moved. We kept seeing the same shore line, + only it changed its location in a very puzzling way. + Sometimes it would be on our larboard bow, sometimes + on our starboard, while the ship appeared to + be standing still. Sometime during the afternoon a + two-topmaster hove in sight and beat about for an + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>interminable length of time, doing as puzzling things + as the land—appearing here, and then rising up + mysteriously in the other hemisphere, showing now + her beam and now her slender bow. + </p> + + <p>We gave up in despair and dropped anchor. At + this I was rather nervous, for the mate had told me + how many a sailor who had never been seasick before + in his life was likely to succumb when anchor was + dropped in a swell. Afterwards the mate told me that + he was very sorry for me when he heard that we + were going to drop anchor. We rolled about like a + bottle. But it didn’t bother me. Already I was remarkably + on the improve.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Man the Capstan!</span></p> + + <p>Then it struck the captain that the wind seemed + to be coming up and swinging around to its former + position. After a few hours of lying there we started + the engine and hauled up the mudhook. I was interested + to see how this was done, and I went forward + to watch. The mate leaned far over the side, watching + the cable like a cat—giving orders, and stopping + the winch every time the chain managed to get + fouled, or when anything else went wrong. The head + of the anchor slowly appeared through the sea, as + that huge rusty chain inched up slowly, disappearing + into the cable-hole. Then the head of the anchor + lifted its uncanny, sea-ghostlike arms out of the + water, dripping, and looking like the risen skeleton + of a drowned pirate. Then the whole great mudhook + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> + rose up, accompanied by the roaring of the engine, + until the head of it reached the mysterious cable-hole. + At that the mate gave a signal and stopped the winch. + Then a very interesting thing happened: They + dragged the great cat block (a block and tackle attached + near the crosstrees of the foremast) over to + the side of the ship, slipped around the tail of the + anchor a great hook with a link in the end of it, and + caught the hook of the cat block into that link. The + tackle was wound around the winch, which was again + started, and thus the tail of the anchor was lifted up + until the upper fluke slid into place in the anchor + plate. There it was made fast, and that operation + was over. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>When we had dropped anchor we had not + taken down the sails—they could hardly be any + trouble in such a calm—and we got under way again + easily and quickly. Now, for the first time, on looking + down into the water beside the ship, I noticed huge + herds of what the crew called “sunfish”—really a + kind of jellyfish. I can give no better description of + them than that they looked a good deal like exceptionally + juicy and delicious fried eggs, each with a + round orange or yellow lump in the center, surrounded + by a fancy frill of whitish. But they had + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>what fried eggs have not: long and very elegant <em>tails</em>, + bunches of long, long streamers, waving behind them, + whitish in color, very narrow and very numerous—perhaps + fifteen or twenty trailing behind one fried + egg. These streamers are waved about in a curious + way, and the white of the egg, also, is expanded and + then contracted like a mysterious umbrella opening + and shutting. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Fried-egg Tribe</span></p> + + <p>They drifted along in great shoals and herds, + seemingly unable to move except by the motion of + the waves and tides. I had a great deal of pleasure in + watching them. I leaned over the side of the ship and + gazed and gazed at them. I so far forgot my dizziness + that I almost began to hanker for some nice, + juicy, delicious fried eggs. Those jellyfish made my + mouth actually water. Every single one of them was + slightly different from every other. At first they + seemed all alike, but after you had watched them + closely for a while you could see the differences right + off. To begin with, there was a great variation in + size. Some were as much as eight inches in diameter + when spread out, others no more than three. Some + looked as though they had been off to war, and appeared + rather ragged and shabby. And then there + was a great variation in color, in brilliance. The + white part was just about the same in all of them, + except that some seemed to be much more elegantly + and fancily frilled. But the yolk of the egg varied + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>from pale yellow to a fiery scarlet. Some had small + and insignificant yolks and very fine whites; others + seemed nothing but yolk with a tiny edging, a frilled + collar. The ones with both large yolks and fancy + whites were, of course, the finest. + </p> + + <p>And these curious creatures certainly had expression + in their faces. Some looked as though they + were in a great hurry—as though they were gathering + up their robes of state around them and hastening + on; others were small, dainty, modest, and very + scornful of the more splendid ones; some went sailing + by, looking, for all the world, as though they + were lost in a remote dream. These had far-away, + vacant expressions. Others went by with an extremely + haughty, self-conscious air; and some, usually the + most gorgeous, drifted past with a bland smile of + self-satisfaction. These fried-egg creatures certainly + are a race by themselves, different from anything else + on land or sea, and with their own characters and + personalities. I am sure they have characters and + personalities!</p> + + <p>The wind was coming up slightly, and, though + the roll was increasing steadily as we drew nearer to + the open sea, we thought the sails didn’t flap or the + booms swing and groan quite so much as before. We + had high hopes of getting out of the shoals by dark. + We passed more and more lightships, and buoys of + all kinds; and since we were now, on account of the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>changing tide and the high swell from the open sea, + making leeway very fast, it was often quite tricky + work to dodge them. Captain Avery took the wheel + a good deal, and was constantly changing the sails, + especially the important spanker, in order to get + every bit of breeze—to get more steerageway on + and diminish the leeway. This constant changing + of the great spanker was quite a joke among the + crew. I would say: “Why, it’s a long time since + you’ve done anything to the spanker!” and they + would laugh. But I didn’t want to appear as though + I didn’t know why they did this and that to the sails—as + a matter of fact, I quite surprised myself with + my comprehension of their tactics—and I hope I + didn’t overdo the matter. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Too Much Leeway</span></p> + + <p>When it was almost dark we could see, not far + ahead, the exit from the dreaded shoals, and beyond + that the wild, free ocean, a gleam of gray-blue. + When I looked off across our part of it, I could see + how it heaved and throbbed. It was like watching a + human heart beating. It seemed strange to look away + over it, and, instead of seeing it steady, firm, fretted + with ripples, to find it rising high and then mysteriously + subsiding again—sinking back down. One + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>could not distinguish between the swells, or even detect + their summits or their valleys. Only, when I saw + the sea rise near the side of the schooner, I would + know that the schooner, too, would rise in an instant, + and instinctively I learned to prepare myself for the + rise, and then for the sinking into the hollow. In that + way I began, gradually and painfully, to get my sea + legs on, and with a little practice (which I took walking + about the ship) I learned to walk in the midst of + it without staggering and stumbling and clutching + the taffrail too much. I would win the respect of the + cook, yet! I didn’t blame him in the least for being + amused at the antics of a landlubber. + </p> + + <p>Our exit from the shoals was exciting. It was a + difficult bit of navigation, especially in such a slight + breeze, with so much swell and tide and leeway. Here + the captain, in spite of his nervousness and his habit + of becoming hectic if anything went the least wrong, + showed his real skill. But we had a narrow escape if + ever there was one. We looked ahead at the narrow + opening, beyond which rose and fell the sea. What a + sense of isolation and solitude! I know nothing comparable + to it, except possibly being mist-bound, alone, + on a mountain-top. It gives you just about the same + spellbound feeling. And we weren’t really out in the + open sea yet: we could only see it, stretching away, + boundless, ahead. Yet we were already beginning to + feel the edges of that solitary spell, fanning our + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>cheeks, as it were, and wrapping the little schooner + in its fringes. + </p> + + <p>The exit was dotted with buoys and lightships. + Whistling buoys droned and roared. Somehow the + uncanny sound of them is like a knell bidding + drowned mariners rise from the sea; and in the + midst of that spell and that quiet I half expected to + see ghosts rising, folded in their shrouds. The bell + buoys are strange, too. Some of the bells are harsh + and realistic, but others have a soft, mellow ring, + like an unearthly deep church bell. Immediately they + recalled to me the far-away church bells sounding + through the sea from the above-world in Arnold’s + “Forsaken Merman.”</p> + + <p>The captain knows the passage of the shoals + very thoroughly, and on which side to sail of every + single buoy. He guided the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> among them + very deftly and surely, in spite of the adverse + weather conditions.</p> + + <p>Flocks of foam-white gulls swooped, uttering + their uncanny cries. In spite of the amount which I + wrote about sea gulls in <i>The House Without Windows</i>, + I had never until now realized what their call + is like. It is a shrill, shrill <i>mew</i>, like that of a cat + when it cries faintly—a forlorn note to hear from + a swift bird in flight.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Encounter with a Dragon</span></p> + + <p>Now we could see the huge surf booming on the + sand bars at the exit, where the high swells would + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>come pounding in, wholly different from the quiet, + even monsters they are farther out. We could see the + long crests of surf where the waves broke, then, + champing, galloped up the bar and settled back once + more. We were near enough to hear their roaring. + </p> + + <p>There was a large bell buoy just before the exit. + We were to go to starboard of it. We headed as far + to starboard as we could without sailing on the + wrong side of other buoys. But not quite enough + room was allowed for leeway. With the tide sweeping + us down, we were washed toward that buoy + alarmingly fast. The nearer we came, the huger and + more sinister it looked, while the boom of its swinging + bell became more and more like howling. Now it + loomed like some dark red dragon from the midst + of those mysterious swells. Every billow carried + us toward it; the breeze failed us when we needed + it most; we could see with half an eye that it was + unlikely we should clear. Happily, the constant + swinging and banging of the sails helped; at every + roll, and every time they filled with a spurt, the + schooner was carried on a little. But still we simply + went skidding across the sea sideways. I believe we + could have sailed to Nova Scotia quicker side-on than + head-on! Faster and faster we glided toward the + buoy, which became more and more uncanny as the + high, round swells half buried it and then uncovered + it again. Finally we were within six feet of it—and, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>on a forward roll, we cleared it, <em>just</em>; it slid + mysteriously beneath our davits. A close shave! + Probably, if we had hit it, it would have done us + more damage than we did it. Those buoys are made + to stand the wildest weather. They are strong, + though rather unsteady monsters. + </p> + + <p>A few moments afterward we had slid neatly + out the exit, and were now in the open sea. There was + no appreciable difference except that the roll was + steadily increasing; the sea gave it more room to + increase. Now that the hot sun of midday had set, + the roll seemed only pleasant to me.</p> + + <p>We turned in a good deal earlier that night; + there was nothing in particular to stay up for. The + roll was fairly heavy, and when I lay down in my + hard bunk it was like sleeping in a treetop all night + during a high wind, or in a cradle; but it was more + delightful than a cradle, because we were riding upon + the heart of the sea. It was strange to feel the roll + so heavy that there was a strain on first one side and + then the other, and if I relaxed entirely my head + rocked from side to side.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Infinity</span></p> + + <p>In the morning I had to be waked up; the roll + had made me sleep more soundly than I ever slept in + my life. When I went on to the throbbing deck there + was nothing but blue, blue ocean around me, stretching + out to the thirty-two horizons; stretching away, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>a vast, boundless space—stretching away—away—forever. + What isolation, what terrible isolation! + </p> + + <p>The weather conditions were monotonous all + day. There was no wind—no wind at all—and one + could not have told that we were moving. We were + in the midst of space; we might have been marooned + on the cold, desolate moon. Of course the sails + flapped, the booms creaked; and somehow I felt myself + trying to hold back that sound. It was as if I + hardly dared breathe or speak myself; as though + <em>nothing</em> should make a sound in the midst of the + silence and the space that surrounded us. Oh! then + was the sea like a living creature—cold, but with + a mighty, throbbing heart. I was walking on the + heart of the sea; I was sleeping on it; and I could + always, night and day, feel it beating beneath my + feet, or beneath my back. Or perhaps it was the life, + the heart, of the ship that I felt. For now I knew that + our schooner was superbly alive. She carried, amid + the snow of her sails, a living heart and soul. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>My shipmate was returning from a visit to the + galley. I accosted him: “Well, how does the cook + seem this morning?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> + + <p>“Oh, the cook is getting wonderfully rabid! He + talks about busting the captain’s jaw—and not only + his jaw, but his blankety-blank jaw. And holds he + could do it, and would if a chance offered!”</p> + + <p>Exciting! It looked as though a real mutiny + might start at any moment now, with the cook as + ringleader. I did so wish there would be a mutiny—a + little of the piratical on this seemingly peaceful + schooner! I went forward to have a yarn or two with + him, hoping that I should get the edges of this sudden + burst of violence. I was not in the least disappointed. + Evidently the cook made no difference between + ladies and anyone else; he went swearing right + along. And I never could get over my surprise at the + way he swore, his whole character seemed so very, + very inconsistent. In appearance he was a delightful + little old man, gentle and kind as a lamb, not hurting + a fly. Yet, when you knew him, there was the most + wonderful spark of temper, of pride, of malice. He + had the sad face of an old monkey, and his apron + strings flopped behind him, and he wore suspenders—but + <em>how he could swear</em>! I used to think that I + could feel the galley shake around me, and I felt that + at any moment the ship might blow up or burst into + flames. + </p> + + <p>“Well, mate,” said I, when I approached him, + “good morning to you!”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Disrespectful</span></p> + + <p>“Good morning.” A deep sigh; profound silence.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> + He was sitting in the galley door, as usual, + with his back against the starboard side of the doorway. + He was smoking, and looking altogether so + harmless and peaceful! + </p> + + <p>“Well,” said I, “and how’s life treating you, + mate?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, Lordy, Lordy,” said he. “Captain Avery—I’d + like to bust his mildewed old jaw for him—and + I could do it, too!”</p> + + <p>Apparently he was repeating exactly what he + had said before. How delightful to get this explosion + from that embodiment of all peacefulness!</p> + + <p>“Why, what’s the matter, steward? What’s the + skipper done to you now?”</p> + + <p>“Well, he says he don’t like my grub. How kin + he expect any man to cook when there’s nothing to + cook with? Now, look a’ this old stove, and this rotten + old oven. Why, when I bake my bread, I’ve got + to keep it in hours longer than it ought to be in, in + order to get it done at all. I haven’t a drop of + flavoring extract on board this ship; I haven’t a bit + of anything to make nice things out of; I can’t make + cakes, I can’t make good pastry with what I’ve got + here; I have no jams or jellies of any kind—how + can he expect me to do any cooking for him? That’s + what I’d like to know!”</p> + + <p>And again this sad little old man seemed to sink + down into himself.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>All day long I walked around the decks, talking + to the sailors, spinning yarns with Bill and Bob, + and even with Captain Avery. We felt, to be sure, a + little distant from the skipper. His attitude suggested + that he was getting tired of his passengers. + He always seemed to draw off by himself in a corner + of the deck; or he would study his charts, down in + the dark of the cabin, spreading them out flat on the + floor, and getting down on top of them on his knees + and elbows; or else he would come around and interfere + in other persons’ conversation, by saying + “Hey?” in the middle of sentences not addressed + to him at all. Sometimes he would come around + where we were talking and “jine in” very freely, + without asking permission. Then, of course, the conversation + would be entirely transferred to his side; + for when he got going there was no hope for anyone + else to talk unless, by mistake, the old man + asked a question. On and on he would go, taking up + the talk just where we had left off, and continuing it + in his own way, strangely distorting it. Moreover, + we began to see truth as well as exaggeration in the + cook’s statements. We had begun, too, to become + more interested in the crew than in the skipper. But, + in spite of all this, the captain was the captain; and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>he was very amusing and entertaining as well as + boring, if you looked at him in the right light.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">All as it Should Be</span></p> + + <p>Somehow, in spite of the calm and the tides, we + were making headway. I didn’t understand it at all—especially + as the sails did nothing but flap and apparently + carried us backwards as much as forwards. + But the captain said we were off Cape Cod, though + we didn’t go in sight of it. There were a few jellyfish + about; not nearly so many as there had been during + our passage through the shoals, for apparently those + queer creatures stick to the shallower water. I + couldn’t help wishing for a wind. But I was on a ship; + and, after all, that was enough. Moreover, at this + rate I had the prospect of being on a ship for several + days to come. Here I was, leading the life I had + madly wanted, living with the sailors, forming a + companionship with them, gazing upon the expanse + of the shuddering, boundless sea, watching the sails + shaking above me—studying the tactics and the + working of a <em>sailing</em> vessel. + </p> + + <p>And here I was, chinning in an extremely familiar + way with my friend Mate Bill, who had somehow + or other become quite intimate with me. I + mocked him considerably about his “breeze-o’-wind.” + “Where’s that ‘breeze-o’-wind’ you promised + us, mate?” “Coming! You wait and see.” The + length of time which we could spend talking about + that “breeze-o’-wind” was extraordinary. The mate + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>maintained, more in joke than seriously, that there + was going to be a northeast gale. And I laughed, + not because I disagreed with him, for I believed him + perfectly, but because it did seem so fantastic that + this silence, this terrible calmness, could change + into a ripping northeaster. The mate understood + this feeling of mine perfectly. He chuckled his sly, + mysterious, piratical chuckle and said that the wind + was coming; he wouldn’t be at all surprised if it + came the next day, and he was sure it would come + the day after that, at latest. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Economy in Paint</span></p> + + <p>A trifle more about our skipper. By this time + we were winning the great favor of the crew, and + especially of the mate, with whom both of us talked + for hours at a stretch. The <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> badly + needed a coat or two of paint. The skipper was most + desirous to have the painting done during the voyage, + and this very calm, lazy weather seemed the + ideal time. Two or three of the crew were usually + at work; also, my shipmate made the time go by + painting. The captain’s desire was to have the whole + inside of the ship painted by the time we reached + Bridgewater, but he seemed doubtful that it would + be possible to do this. “You wait,” said he to us—“you’ll + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>see how much painting there’ll be done!” + But Mate Bill would come over and say to me: “It’s + his own fault if we don’t get the vessel painted by + the time we get down to Nova Scotia. ’Cause we + could do it perfectly well; a three-years’ child could + do it if only he could be let alone! But here’s the old + man bothering us and looking over our shoulders at + every stroke. What does he know about painting? + Lord! He paints worse than any of us. I tell you, if + he had the chance he’d make one can of paint go for + the whole vessel! He takes a brush, and dips it, and + then daubs—a daub here, a daub there, and not + enough anywheres. Look a’ that bit of the taffrail he + painted. A cat could do it better! Then, after he’s + done three inches of that, he goes forrard, daubing + all the time, till he gits to the fo’c’sle; and then he + puts a daub on that, and a daub on this!” + </p> + + <p>“I think, mate, it makes the cook mad to see + him come forward at all.”</p> + + <p>“Certainly it does! It makes any sailor mad! + What’s he got to do forrard? That ain’t his place. + His place is aft, and I wish to brimstone he’d stay + there. He ain’t supposed to come off that poop deck. + He ain’t supposed to come no further ’n them steps. + Forrard’s <em>my</em> place—there’s no sense in both of us + there. ’N’ if he comes forrard, I go aft. Forrard’s + my place. I’m supposed to do the work there, and see + that the work gets done. The old man’s supposed to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>tell me anything he wants done, and then I’m to see + that it gets done. But I can’t, and I lay ’tain’t my + fault. Why, anyone comin’ aboard this vessel—if + the owner come aboard and saw a little paint here, + ’n’ a little there, he’d ask the captain: ‘Who’s your + mate aboard here?’ ’n’ the old man’d say: ‘Bill + McLeod.’ ‘Well, he’s a shockin’ poor mate!’ There, + you see! all the blame gets round on to me again. + If he’d only let us alone, we’d get the whole ship + done. We’d get it done within three days, if this + calm weather keeps up.” + </p> + + <p>Bill was right. He had described the tactics of + the “old man” perfectly. (He used to make a great + to-do, Bill did, about that phrase, “old man.” “I + dunno why it is,” he would say, “but I allus called + any cap’n I ever had ‘old man’; whether he’s + young or old, it’s all the same—he’s allus the ‘old + man.’”)</p> + + <p>“I don’t think the cook cares much about Captain + Avery.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, the cook hates him!” Again Bill + chuckled, and his wicked black eyes twinkled. “He + hates ’im like bitter p’ison!”</p> + + <p>“I think it’s very funny, the way Bob mocks + at him so much.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">High Words in a Crisis</span></p> + + <p>“Yes, it’s funny. But you get tired of it. Now, + Bob is young, and he’s awful fresh and careless; + everythin’s a game to him. He has a lot of fun + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span> + mocking the old fellow that way. But I wouldn’t do + it; not me! One thing I was always taught, ’n’ that + was to respect people older’n myself. Now Cap’n + Avery’s old, and he’s a meddlin’ old cat, but I niver + sass him; not me! I’ve niver sassed him but once in + me life, ’n’ I’ve sailed with him a lot, too. I’ve sailed + with him a lot, ’n’ he’s got to know me good, so he + sometimes calls me Bill.” + </p> + + <p>“When was it that you sassed him, mate?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, that was a couple o’ years ago, on another + voyage I took with him.”</p> + + <p>“And what did Captain Avery do that made + you sass him?”</p> + + <p>“Well, it was in the evenin’, and a terrible + squall come up, and we had to get down the sails in + a hurry. He orders us to take down the jibs first, + and we was just gettin’ the jibs down when somethin’ + went wrong with the tackle. The old man see + what was the matter, and he come runnin’ up forrard, + giving orders and shouting. He was awful nervous. + He allus was a nervous old cat. Well, somehow + I didn’t stop to think, and it made me kind of mad + to see him come runnin’ up forrard, shouting that + way, and I sassed him back, ’n’ I said: ‘I wish to + Beelzebub you’d get aft to your own place!’ Well, + the old man went. But a’terwards I see the tears + runnin’ down the poor old fellow’s cheeks, he was so + excited. Well, I niver, niver sassed him back again. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>But sometimes it riles me, the things he does. I + think that’s why he likes me, ’cause I am respec’ful + to him. So it sometimes does rile me, the way Bob + mocks him, and I talk to Bob a lot. But it niver + does no good.” + </p> + + <p>“And is Captain Avery a good man, supposing + you get into a gale?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, yes, he’s a skillful old fellow. But anyone + that’s been to sea as long as he has <em>ought</em> to be skillful. + He is clever and quick, but awful nervous, and + he shouts and calls a lot. One good thing about Captain + Avery is this: he has a good loud voice. You + never have to come aft to ask what he says!” And + Bill’s eyes sparkled again.</p> + + <p>“Do you think he ever has happened to hear + when Bob mocks at him?”</p> + + <p>“Well, I dunno. Bob does sometimes mock + awful loud—but then, the old man is good and + deef. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Halcyon Days</span></p> + + <p>Indeed, Bob seemed to be growing steadily + more daring. He used often to mock, even when the + old man hadn’t given an order, just for the sake of + amusing the rest of the crew. It <em>was</em> amusing to hear + the captain call the crew “boys.” If he wanted anything + done, it was always “Here, boys! Here, + boys!” until someone came to execute his orders. + (It rather disappointed me that he didn’t call them + “mates,” or “my hearties,” or “my bullies,” in true + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> + piratical fashion. But one can’t expect too much!) + And Bob would stretch out his neck, and lift up his + head like a bird about to sing, and screech, quite as + loudly as the skipper himself: “Here, boys! Here, + boys!” You could see his bronze throat quivering + when he called, just like that of a bird. And then he + would lower his head into himself and chuckle. + </p> + + <p>Bob was especially good-looking in a bright red + sweater. He used to wear this sweater whenever it + was the least bit chilly, and then he was usually so + busy, or perhaps so lazy, that he never seemed to + have a chance to take it off, even when it grew warm. + Of him, more later.</p> + + <p>During those calm days there was a great deal + of warm weather. I went about, in my old blue shirt + with a sailor collar and my old black pants, very + gaily indeed, feeling sailorly and wanting to show + the crew that I didn’t put on airs or try to be superior + to them. In fact, I admitted my inferiority by + asking them questions about ropes, their names and + uses. The ropes on a schooner are surely the most + complicated things on earth, except those of a + square-rigger, which both <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen and our + cook told me were a thousand times more complicated. + As for the schooner, there was only about one + rope which I could always be sure of—the fore-topsail + clew line. That particular rope had broken, + and the mate had run in a brand-new one—a bright + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>rope, white among the dark, weather-beaten, dirty + ones. I could always tell it by a glance—until it + began to get dirty, too. + </p> + + <p>Again we turned in early. We had discovered + that it was really much simpler to do so, because we + had neglected bringing a flashlight. There were no + lights on the ship except lamps, and there was no + lamp in the “bathroom,” and consequently no way + to find the water bucket without lighting a match. + (I had overturned it two or three times in the rolling.) + The ship’s lamps, by the way, were arranged in + little rings of brass which projected on arms from + the wall, and as the ship rolled crazily the lamps, + too, would swing about, but keeping themselves + upright in the gimbals.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Suspended Weather</span></p> + + <p>The next day the weather conditions were annoyingly + the same. There was no wind; there was + nothing but that steady roll, which I now began + to enjoy quite a lot, though it did wear on one. I + would look up at the horizon as the bow of the ship + plunged down, and I would see it away up in the sky + above me somewhere. Then, as the bow swung back, + the horizon would vanish beneath the forefoot of + the schooner. When the bow swung down, how far + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> + above it we, on the poop deck, seemed! and then + how formidably the bow would loom above us on the + return roll! + </p> + + <p>I joked more than ever with Bill about his + “breeze-o’-wind.” But he only chuckled and told me + that I wanted to get there too fast, and that we + should have the wind yet, and plenty of it, too. I + would look out over the restless ocean and see where + a tiny breath of air made blue ripples on the silver-gray, + and I would nudge Bill and say: “Well, the + breeze seems to be coming up a little now!” And + Bill would reply: “Yes, we’ll have that wind in no + time now!” And the breath of air would die down, + and again there would be nothing to break the monotony + of the sea.</p> + + <p>But, aside from the weather, the day turned out + to be a remarkably exciting one for me. For one + thing, I had been forbidden by my strict family to + do anything whatsoever without the consent of Captain + Avery. “Just because you’re not told <em>not</em> to do + anything,” they said, “you’re not to assume that you + can do it. You have to <em>ask</em> first.” “Oh, that’s easily + managed,” I replied. I must ask every time I wanted + to go up in the rigging (though, on account of my + dizziness, I had not as yet gone up); I should certainly + have to ask before going out on the jibboom; + I should not be allowed to steer, even though I knew + the points of the compass. The most I could do was + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>to ask the names and uses of things. For this I usually + sought out Mate Bill. When he was off duty, the + two of us would sit together in some concealed corner + behind the fo’c’sle, or on the fo’c’sle deck, or on + the other side of the after deckhouse from where + Captain Avery was at that time; and then we would + have “a go of it.” I would ask him questions, and + he would take them seriously. He didn’t joke over + it, and he didn’t laugh because I didn’t know. He + would say: “Now, I approve of answering questions + that anyone asks me, if so I can. The steward here, + he’d fool you half the time.” + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">“Take the Wheel!”</span></p> + + <p>But I wanted my privileges! I decided that I + would begin to acquire them again. I climbed up on + the spanker boom often; I had been told that that + was all right. I used to walk out on it, leaning against + the sail and walking on the windward side of it, until + I came almost to where the boom overhung the water. + Then, feeling a slight disgust at the strictness of + everything, I would stop. Of course I could do this + only when the breeze held the sails steady. (Two or + three times during that day this happened.) Otherwise + I should be flapped off the boom. I used to go + by myself on the fo’c’sle deck a good deal, and I + would climb around and sit on the forward capstan + or on the staysail boom or on the very forward part + of the bow, as near the tip as I could. Then I would + have a longing upon me to go out on the jibboom. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> + But when I saw those frail footropes, overhanging + the open sea itself, and the whole jibboom waving + up and down, I decided that, even if I were given + permission, it was a little precarious for me. But I + said I should come around to it sooner or later—and, + after all, it was only my first voyage—and, + after all, I could climb better than Richardson—and, + after all, I was really doing very well for such + an amateur! + </p> + + <p>I did long to steer, though. How I wished someone + would give me a hint or two! I was a little worried + about asking anyone save my friend the mate. + I resolved that, sometime when he had the wheel, + I would ask him. But I found that the mate, because + of his rank, hardly ever took the wheel. Sometimes + he would take it for a while, during Bob’s trick, so + that Bob could go down to dinner; that would be + after he had had his own. But I had an itch on me to + steer that day. It was after dinner when I felt the + itch; they were constantly tampering with the sails, + and it was, as usual, Bob’s trick (it seemed to me as + though it were almost always Bob’s trick), and Bob + had just left the wheel to help close-haul the spanker. + I came walking slowly aft at that moment, and Bob + called out to me: “Here, take the wheel while I fix + this bally sail.”</p> + + <p>To be requested to steer!</p> + + <p>“Do you know the points?” he shouted.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p> + + <p>“Yes!”</p> + + <p>“East by north.”</p> + + <p>“East by north, bo’s’n!”</p> + + <p>A moment afterwards I had picked out the + point, and, with the feeling of those hand-worn + wooden spokes in my palms, I guided the lubber line + about and kept the schooner at east by north. I + found it was not so hard; I could really do it! The + only thing about it that puzzled me was that, when + the ship swung off her course by a tiny eighth of a + point, it took a very generous motion of the tiller to + bring her back. But oh, how like a sailor I felt! And + when Bob left close-hauling the sail, with Roy to + help him, and came back to his trick, and saw that + the lubber line was still on the dot of east by north, + he certainly was pleased. He said: “I’ll have to + stand with you, ’cause if I don’t the old man won’t + like it. But you’ll get to steer good before long. + Now I’m going to do something up forrard. If the + old man asks you why you’re steerin’, you tell him + I said you could.”</p> + + <p>“Can you trust me with her all right?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, sure! You’re gettin’ to steer good!”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">“East by North, Bo’s’n!”</span></p> + + <p>Well, the old man didn’t happen to pass by at + that particular moment—perhaps he was down in + the cabin—but I certainly did feel a huge sense of + responsibility. There I stood, holding the ship to + her course very neatly. And, though it took all my + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> + concentration at first to keep that tiny black line on + that tiny black point, I grew more and more used to it, + and before long I got so that I didn’t mind it at all. + The bo’s’n came back after a little and looked anxiously + at the compass in the binnacle. But it was still + all right, and he grinned. Presently the old man + really did come by, and he saw that I had the + wheel all to myself, and that Bob was standing doing + nothing behind me, but watching like a cat. He, + too, looked at the compass, and then at me, and then + at the compass again. I grinned at him. He looked + rather anxiously at Bob, and I heard him whisper: + “Don’t let her keep it too long. Do look out for + her!” And then I heard Bob’s careless voice reply: + “Oh, sure! <em>She’s</em> all right. She steers better than + Richardson now.” But, evidently to please the captain, + he took the wheel, too. It was companionable + to steer with another; yet I liked the feeling of having + it alone. I steered more and more accurately all + the time, and I got so that I could see when the + schooner was about to slide off her point, and would + head her off with the wheel. + </p> + + <p>I had the wheel for the second half of Bob’s + trick, and for the first half of Roy’s. That made a + whole trick; and the time went like foam. But toward + the end of that time my eyes, unused to the strain, + grew rather blurred. I could no longer see the line + or the point very well, and, afraid of mistakes, I + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>stopped. But I was becoming a sailor! My first voyage, + and here I was “jining in” with the crew and + the work like anything! + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Tussle with the Spanker</span></p> + + <p>That morning, before the steering, I had had + a rather amusing and exciting experience. The breeze + seemed to be coming up a little, but it was just a + whim. The sails were steady for a moment, and the + captain wanted the spanker close-hauled. They were + always doing something or other with that spanker; + I never knew anything like it. Well, the captain + decided, there was such a very light breeze, that he + could do it himself. He loosed the sheet from the + belaying pin on the starboard side of the schooner, + leaving only one turn of the rope around the pin, and + began to haul, letting all the strain go on to the pin—the + true nautical way of close-hauling a sail when + you want to do it alone. But the captain, as Bill often + said, was “weaker’n a cat,” and to see him leaning + back on the rope, clasping his horny hands around it + desperately, and yet with the strength of that mighty + sail all the time pulling him back toward the belaying + pin, was comical. He raised his head, and I could see + that at any moment he would begin his call of “Here, + boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” I wanted to be + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span> + helpful as a sailor, and I immediately took hold of + the sheet above the belaying pin and hauled and + hauled, with the desperate strength which I always + had when I wanted to be sailor-like, or wanted to + show the crew and the skipper that I <em>was</em> sailor-like. + I hauled while Captain Avery took up the slack + which I made, by hauling it taut around the belaying + pin. The two of us could just hold the sail and close-haul + it half-inch by half-inch; but we weren’t making + very rapid progress, and the skipper was getting + tired of it. And, after all and after all, he began to + sing out: “Here, boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” + </p> + + <p>The bo’s’n came aft in a bound or two, and, + with a look of disgust at me to show that he was sick + of that infernal “Here, boys!” he, too, began to + haul. He took the sheet close under the block, I took + it a little farther down, and the captain still stood on + the other side of the belaying pin, making frantic + gestures and taking up the slack. But evidently the + sheet had been working towards the top of the + belaying pin, for in a little spurt of wind it crept up + to the top and over. The captain started shouting. + The boom was too much for Bob and me without + that extra turn around the pin, and both Bob and I + were dragged rapidly, roughly, and resistingly across + the deck. We went fast, because of the savage pull + of the boom, but I had time to think quite a lot. I + thought that it would pull me overboard; I thought + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>of letting go; then I thought that I <em>mustn’t</em> let go, I + must just hang on like grim death and show them + that I was sailorly. I felt myself come into a bit too + sudden contact with the after capstan, and heard the + bo’s’n say “Let go, quick!” Then I saw that he had + let go. And, next, everything was a blurred whirling. + At last, as I neared the port taffrail, I let go, and the + boom went wandering gently out until it was at + right angles to the rail. I fell on my knees just against + the rail; then, in spite of my jarring encounter with + that capstan, I got up briskly and laughed. With + Roy helping, all of us hauled the boom in again and + made it fast. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>In the afternoon the crew, having less than + nothing to do, all gathered on deck, sitting on hatches + between the poop and the fo’c’sle, in the sun of the + mid-afternoon, to talk. They all came out with the + exception of Richardson and another Bill—an Irish + Bill. There were the mate, the bo’s’n, Roy, the cook, + and I. It was the first time the crew had really shown + signs of being friendly with one another. Not that + they had quarrelled, but they never seemed to have + anything much to say; they were gloomy and silent.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">In Conference</span></p> + + <p>We carried a spare gaff on the starboard side, + under the bulwarks ’way forrard. It seemed to be + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> + a favorite place to sit. The mate and I sat down on + this gaff, side by side, while the bo’s’n and Roy, who + seemed to be great pals, sat on a forward hatch-cover, + facing us. I began joking Bill about his + “breeze-o’-wind.” “When <em>is</em> it coming, mate?” said + I. “Oh, sometime next month!” “We’ll have to publish + that,” said I—“‘Bill predicts a breeze-o’-wind + for next month.’” “But you wait,” says Bill. “It’s a-comin’ + yet, sometime tomorrow!” “That’s far better,” + said I. + </p> + + <p>Then I subsided entirely and let the crew rattle + on in their own way. Richardson had now come out + of the fo’c’sle and was very feebly and painstakingly + splitting up pieces of wood with the steward’s little + hatchet. He was doing it slowly, though neatly, and + it looked as though he were not accustomed to it. The + mate saw him, and I could tell at once, by the way + his black eyes began to sparkle so maliciously, that + he was going to say something to Richardson. And + he said, in that solemn way of his, yet with a downward + twist to the corners of his mouth: “Hey, Dick, + don’t hurry too much over that!” Richardson is + very pleasant, no matter what is said to him, and he + replied only with chuckles—rather gloomy ones. + Then he fell to work sawing up some boards which + had been left over from the lumber cargo; he brought + out a small sawhorse and a saw and fell to work. + But it went no better. Every stroke seemed to be + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>painful, and he made very slow progress. Again the + mate struck in, and said: “Don’t kill yourself over + that, Dick!” + </p> + + <p>The mate began to tell about various incidents + of his career, which seems, on the whole, to have + been a fairly interesting one. He has stuck to the + sea for fifteen years, with hankerings now and then + to do landsman’s work, but always sooner or later + returning to sailor life. He said: “Once they wanted + me to go as mate on a schooner, fer seventy a month. + I was workin’ ashore then, an’ I didn’t want to go. + But I was wanted badly enough—somehow, it seems + I never had no trouble gettin’ a berth as mate—”</p> + + <p>“Well, no wonder,” interposed Richardson + from his sawhorse. “If you resigned up there at + Bridgewater, I would too, by heaven! I wouldn’t + stand bein’ hazed by the old man; not I! Why, Bill, + it’s you as keeps this crew together at all.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">In the Old Days</span></p> + + <p>“Well,” continued Bill (it seems customary + for them to begin everything with a “well”; even + I do it, more or less), “the owner of that vessel + offered me seventy-five. But ’twas no better. I didn’t + want to go. I said I wouldn’t, no matter how much + he give me. ‘Not for eighty?’ says he. ‘No, sir!’ + says I. ‘Eighty-five?’ ‘No,’ says I, ‘’N’ you might + as well make up your mind to it, sir! I’m not goin’ + to do a sailor’s work no more.’ ‘Wouldn’t you go + fer ninety, Bill?’ ‘No. Don’t you coax no more. I’m + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> + not goin’!’ But he kep’ on arguin’, and he riz five + dollars every time he opened his mouth, and, by + thunder, I went, fer a hundred and ten. That’s how + bad I’m wanted! And here I am with Cap’n Avery, + fer sixty flat, and a row over that, too!” + </p> + + <p>The cook had now come out of his galley, and + he stood listening, his apron tied behind him, and a + curious expression of scorn and disdain on his face. + Said he: “You think ye’re so badly off, don’t you? + Why, when I used to sail in the old square-riggers, + we used to get thirteen dollars a month, flat—no + more. And the mate—he didn’t get no more than + seventeen. You think the work is so awful hard + here, don’t you? Why, listen to me! Every single + morning all hands was called on deck at four o’clock; + some ships had it half-past three. Then we had to + wash, and scrub, and sooge,<a id="noteref-1" class="note-anchor" href="#note-1">[1]</a> and sand, and holystone, + and squeegee the decks, forrard and aft. ’N’ when + that was done we had to go aloft and polish up all the + brass work, ’n’ the brass along the bulwarks, and + the cook had to polish his kids and pans, and put + them in the front of the galley for the old man to + examine when he come forrard in the morning. It + took till breakfast t’ get all that done. Why, you + sluggards would take all day over the work that we + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>used t’ do in an hour! And do you know what? Listen + to me—” + </p> + + <p>But here an interruption came in the shape of + an incident which made the crew laugh a great deal. + The cook decided that he would come and mingle + with us; he would sit on the gaff and swing his legs + around, and be chummy. So he walked robustly + over to the spare gaff, his hands up under his apron + in front. But somehow or other, nimble though the + little man is, he missed his aim, as it were, and, instead + of sitting <em>on</em> the gaff, he sat down <em>behind</em> it, + with his knees over it. By that small miscue the dignity + of the little old cook was suddenly spilled, turned + upside down. But he pulled himself together again, + hitched forward on to the gaff, blinking in the sun, + and rocked himself back and forth. Then he began + again where he had left off:</p> + + <p>“Listen to me a minute. You talked about + being hazed by the old man: you listen, and if you + call this hazin’, what you’re havin’, I eat rats fer + dinner! When our old man used to come on deck, + at eight bells, after everythin’ aboard was all fixed + up tidy as tidy, ’n’ the deck holystoned ’ntil it was + white as chalk all over, he used to bring his glass and + come forrard and look away up at the riggin’, t’ + see ’f the brass work was shining enough. And if + we hadn’t polished it to suit him, he would make + us go up aloft and do it all over agin.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Peppery Suggestion</span></p> + + <p>All this time the cook had an imaginary glass + in his hand, and was peering aloft through it, to + see if the brass work were polished. He would peer + and peer up at the mizzen-mast, and peer and peer + at the mainmast, and then peer and peer indefinitely + at the foremast. And very queer he looked, peering + and peering that way through his imaginary glass.</p> + + <p>“’N’ then,” he went on, “after he had looked + at that a while, he would come to the door of the + galley and look at all the cook’s tin pans and kids, + that was spread out in the sun. ’N’ if <em>they</em> wasn’t + polished to suit him, they would have t’ be done + over, ’n’ the cook would get a good callin’ down, too.—Fer + the love o’ Mike, what you laughin’ at, + bo’s’n?”</p> + + <p>The bo’s’n had been chuckling and giggling, and + now he was absolutely bursting with restrained merriment. + “I was thinkin’,” said he, “someone ought + to have put pepper in the old man’s eyeglass. Then, + when he come along and tipped it ’way back to look + up, he’d go around howlin’ and howlin’ and stampin’ + and swearin’, and be a fine show—and then, if the + fust mate ast him what was the matter, he wouldn’t + dare say, ’n’ he’d say that the brass was polished so + poor it made him curse!” The bo’s’n delivered this + strange harangue in the craziest voice you ever + heard in your life, all the time chuckling as though + about to burst.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> + + <p>“Well,” returned the cook, vehemently, yet + very solemnly—“I guess you nor no one else, + neither, would dare to do anythin’ like that. He’d regret + it all his life, let me tell you! And you wouldn’t + do anything about the grub, neither. I suppose all you + fellows think you’re in a awful bad way with food. + Do you want me to tell you what <em>we</em> used to have to + live on? We had salt pork ’n’ hard tack. ’N’ that’s + about all. We used to have what we called ‘duff’ on + Sundays, but that wasn’t so good as the grub you have + all the time. And they didn’t even have potaters! + Now, you shrimps git potaters all the time. Then, + they on’y had ’em aft! Once we had a great hunk o’ + salt beef. It got all soaked up with salt water, but the + cook made us eat it. It was hard as a rock, ’n’ it + lasted fer days and days, ’cause no one would eat it. + ’n’ it kept cropping up, and cropping up, and we + couldn’t get rid of it nohow. But we had to keep on + chewin’ it (’n’ it was jist like leather), ’ntil every + bit of it was gone. Why, we used to have food that + cats and dogs wouldn’t ’a’ touched, ’n’ that turkey-buzzards + wouldn’t ’a’ picked up.”</p> + + <p>“Well!” said the bo’s’n, in a voice of careless + scorn, “blamed if I’d eat it, if ’twas as bad as all + that.”</p> + + <p>“Now, my young man,” said the cook, very severely, + “you’d do exactly what everyone else did, + you would.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Dietetic Argument</span></p> + + <p>“Wither me if I would! I’d fire it overboard. + Why didn’t you fire it overboard?”</p> + + <p>“It was different then,” said the cook—“very + different. Sailors couldn’t get fresh and flip then, by + thunder. Why, every man of them would be fired + and flogged, if they did that.”</p> + + <p>“Well,” said the bo’s’n, “why didn’t they come + aft and complain? Strikes me it ain’t up to them to + eat what’s fit for hounds.”</p> + + <p>“Of course it wasn’t up to them!” said the + cook, “but they had to do ’t all the same. I tell you, + sailors weren’t treated as men at all, then; they + weren’t so good as dogs! You think ye’re so hard off, + don’t you? I’d like to have seen you in them times. + Yes, by thunder, I would!”</p> + + <p>“Well, but,” said the bo’s’n, whose careless + brain was still working on the meat, “I’d take it out + of the fo’c’sle with me, a little piece at a time, every + time it come round—and then, when the old man + or the steward wasn’t around, I’d fire it over. That’s + what I’d do.”</p> + + <p>“No you wouldn’t. You’d do what everyone + else did—eat it ’ntil it was gone!”</p> + + <p>“Well now,” I interposed, “I think the bo’s’n + made an intelligent remark then. It would have been + simple enough to do that—a little piece at a time.”</p> + + <p>“Sure it would!” said the bo’s’n, evidently glad + to have someone agree with him. “’Twould be the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>easiest thing in the world. I’m surprised none o’ you + thought of it.” + </p> + + <p>“Huh!” said the cook—and that was all of + that subject.</p> + + <p>“Speakin’ o’ dogs and cats,” said the mate, + evidently deciding that it was about his turn—“once + I was second mate in a schooner, ’n’ the old + man had a cat. He was fond o’ that animal, I tell + you! But the boys, they got kind o’ mischievous ’bout + it ’n’ decided they’d play a trick on the skipper and + get rid o’ that cat. So, one time when we was gettin’ a + tug out o’ the harbor, one o’ the boys picked up the + cat by the tail and threw him down into the tug. + Gee! I’ll niver ferget how surprised the boys in the + tug looked, to see a cat come flyin’ down. An’ I’ll + niver ferget the skipper. He didn’t know what had + happened to the beast; he niver did know. ’Cause + he’d ’a’ been powerful mad if he’d found out—but + he niver did find out what happened to his cat.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Analysis of a Lubber</span></p> + + <p>There was a silence, as the old man emerged + from the cabin door, walked over to the port taffrail, + and peered over at us, with a strange look of meddlesome + curiosity on his visage, and an ugly, trembling + glare. Everyone looked at him, and the bo’s’n said: + “Here, boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” in his + mocking voice. “You wait!” he added. “He’ll be + hollering in a minute.” As a matter of fact, the skipper + didn’t start calling; he only looked forrard as + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> + though he would like to eat us. I suppose it enraged + him to see me preferring the crew’s company to his; + and perhaps it also enraged him to see the crew lying + all over the deck, so “’xcruciating idle.” Then he + went to see about the steering. + </p> + + <p>“Well,” began the mate, “last night I tried + again to beat the points of the compass into Richardson’s + head.” This was to me, the crew having + dispersed momentarily. “But he can’t learn, and he + won’t learn. I never seen a dumber lad.”</p> + + <p>“He can’t box the compass, mate?”</p> + + <p>“Indeed he can’t! He can’t remember them + points for a minute. And he does make the dumbest + mistakes, too. Why, early this mornin’, when ’twas + his trick, he almost steered us right into a small fisherman + crossin’ our bow. The boat got swept towards + us, on account o’ leeway, and Richardson held us + right to our course ’n’ didn’t know enough to heave + to. And the lad was goin’ t’ keep right on goin’ ’ntil + we hit the fisherman, but I see what was happenin’, + and I come aft and took the wheel out of his hands + and hove us to. But he’s dumb!”</p> + + <p>“I’m getting so I can steer pretty easily, mate.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, you can steer good. A few more tries at + it, and you’ll be steerin’ as good as anybody. You + steer a good sight better ’n Dick, now.”</p> + + <p>How I did love the mate’s flattery of my seamanship!</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + + <p>At this point something occurred which sent + a mighty roar of laughter from the crew and gathered + them together again for more yarns. Richardson + had been steering for a long time. Most of his + trick was over, and he was listening impatiently for + the welcome sound of eight bells from the ship’s + clock below. The clock struck after a few seconds—seven + bells. But Richardson was so elated with + the idea that his trick was over, and that the watch + would now be changed, that he never stopped to + wait until the bells had finished striking; he took it + for granted that it was eight, and pulled the cord of + the after bell (on the deckhouse just over the binnacle, + within reach of the helmsman) eight times. + First the crew looked puzzled, and then, amid shouts + of laughter, Bob yelled out: “Hey there, Dick! + What you strikin’?” Richardson looked foolish for + a moment. But he quickly recovered his good nature, + and said, blushing: “Wasn’t that eight bells?” + This time the crew was too convulsed to reply. Only + the cook remained solemn. He gave one disgusted + look from the galley door. He felt that it was altogether + beneath his dignity to laugh. <em>He</em> wouldn’t + condescend even to smile.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Interlude on a Grisly Theme</span></p> + + <p>The boys were now back again, sprawled over + the hatchways and the deck. But the cook, evidently + rather disgusted, as always, with the freshness and + the greenness of our crew, went back into his galley, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> + muttering: “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!” and we didn’t see + him again that afternoon. + </p> + + <p>The conversation of the crew changed to an + extraordinary subject: teeth. (I won’t repeat all the + gory, gory details.) The mate began by saying: + “Well, I think when I get to Bridgewater, I’ll have + all my teeth pulled out, and get me a set of false + ones.”</p> + + <p>“Well,” said the bo’s’n, “I imagine that would + be a good plan. Does it hurt?”</p> + + <p>“What do you want to know for?”</p> + + <p>“Well, I think some day I’ll do the same. Is’t + ’xpensive?”</p> + + <p>“Some is and some isn’t. A couple o’ years ago + I wanted to have a tooth pulled out, and I see in the + paper where a dentist pulled teeth fer twenty-five + cents apiece. So I says: ‘That’s the place fer you, + Bill,’ ’n’ off I went. Well, when I got there, I had a + tooth pulled. ‘How much is it?’ says I. ‘Fifty cents,’ + says he. ‘But I see in the paper where you pull teeth + fer a quarter!’ ’so I do,’ says he, ’when you have + more than one pulled. Fifty cents fer one. A quarter + fer each tooth, if you have more than one pulled.’ + ‘All right,’ says I, ‘go ahead!’ And he went on + pullin’ and pullin’, and he took out nine teeth. I’ve + only got seven in my upper jaw now.”</p> + + <p>“But,” said the bo’s’n, “does it hoit?”</p> + + <p>“No.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></p> + + <p>“Well, I’ve got a couple o’ teeth that I’ll have + pulled. What do you say we go somewheres in + Bridgewater?”</p> + + <p>“All right with me,” said mate.</p> + + <p>“You have yours pulled first, and see if it + hoits, and then I’ll have mine pulled.”</p> + + <p>“Agreed.”</p> + + <p>“And say, Roy,” went on the bo’s’n, “if you’ll + pay fer mine I’ll have three pulled.”</p> + + <p>“Agreed,” replied Roy, and that was the end + of that. I was rather glad. Enough is enough.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Through the rest of that day the weather was + monotonous, but very beautiful. The sea heaved and + throbbed endlessly—dappled waves of silver-gray, + constantly shifting shadows, pools of dark blue. The + sky was clear all day, and the weather was very + warm—in fact, uncomfortably so during the early + afternoon. The sails stayed white with sunlight, and + there were always sun-sparkles on the sea. Of course + I had to have my little joke with Bill about the + “breeze-o’-wind.” He said that if it didn’t come + tomorrow he would never attempt a weather-prophecy + again, but that he was almost sure it would + come.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Mate and Bo’s’n</span></p> + + <p>And that leads me to say more of Bill. He is + the best of mates; at least, in these modern times. In + the days of the old clippers he would have needed a + great deal of hardening down before he would be acceptable + as an officer. But now he is just about as + perfect as the mate of a lumber schooner could be. + He is unutterably patient, and more willing to work + than the men before the mast. In fact, he has a paintbrush + in his hand as much as anyone. Of course this + attitude—especially his willingness to do small + jobs about the deck—wins the crew to him. You remember + what Richardson said about his holding the + crew together? Well, that’s a fact; he does. They + were all dissatisfied with Captain Avery; if it weren’t + for Mate Bill, they would certainly resign. And his + willingness to work keeps them at work. None of his + orders are slighted—except possibly by Bob, the + bo’s’n, who, being his brother, is naturally very careless.</p> + + <p>I asked Bill if he didn’t like to have Bob for his + bo’s’n. He replied that it was nice in some ways to + sail with part of the family, but that at the same + time he wished that Bob weren’t the bo’s’n, but only + a man before the mast, because, being his brother, + he was often careless about important orders. And + the mate said that Bob often used to sass him back. + “Once,” he said, “just the other day, I ast Bob to + get to work painting the bulwarks, and I give him the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>can and the paintbrush and everything. Then Bob + says: ‘Aw, drop yerself overboard! I’ve done enough + paintin’ t’day!’ Well, I didn’t say nothing; I jist + turned around and left him. If I’d done what I ought + to have done, I would have heaved him overboard. + But I’m not made that way—I have a tender heart. + And that’s the trouble with me as a mate: I’m not + hard enough.” + </p> + + <p>Bill had pronounced his one fault—tender-heartedness. + But when I looked at him, so brawny, + and strong, and brown, and piratical, it seemed rather + ridiculous to define him of all persons as tender-hearted. + I should rather have liked to see him heave + Bob overboard—and then hoist him on deck again + by the throat halyards! I imagine that the mate + really did have hard times getting things done, with + Bob as bo’s’n. Bill used to say that any of the rest of + the crew, even Richardson, would probably have + made a better bo’s’n than Bob; though Bob was all + right, he said, when he didn’t have Bill for mate.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Steerageway at Last</span></p> + + <p>Bill’s weather-prophecies, however belated + their fulfillment may be, certainly are <em>true</em>, and no + joke. When I went on deck the next (and fifth) + morning, after a hard sleep and another waking-up + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> + by force, the sea was agitated, the sails were full and + steady, and the proud <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> was leaning a very + little. The man at the helm seemed to have an easier + time of it, now that steerageway was on her. And + the whole atmosphere of everything had changed + somewhat. Instead of the gloomy, drowsy atmosphere, + everything was gay, alert, alive. And yet the + sea was not really boisterous, either—only playful + and laughing. The sun was out brilliantly, and the + whitecapped waves danced. I could feel the wind + all through me, and the sails could feel it, and the + schooner loved it—loved it. It was not yet so strong + as it had been for that short time on the afternoon + of the first day; but as it came up, I could feel the + schooner leaning more and more, and, though still + it was only a playful breeze, there was something + ominous in the sound of it. The waves pounded the + side of the ship, breaking and breaking; the wings + of foam rushed and roared, louder and louder. And + then—what did I hear aloft? It was a gentle, high, + shrill singing—an unearthly, indescribable sound + which for a moment I could not identify. Then I + knew: it was the song of the wind through the sails. + </p> + + <p>For long I have read and heard about that + magic sound; but I was beginning to think that it + was just part of the poet’s imagination, and that he + really meant the dashing of the foam or other sea + noises. But no, it is quite true: the wind seeps out + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>between the threads of the sailcloth and sings and + sings, and the sound grows louder and more magical + as the wind rises. This was sailing, as I had always + dreamed of it. + </p> + + <p>Early in the morning we passed the loveliest + small schooner I have ever seen, a small fisherman. + She could not have been more than half our size, + but in every detail she was as perfect as we. She carried + foresail, mainsail, staysail, jib, and flying jib, + and those long, pointed sails stretched out in front, + full of wind, looked like the white wings of sea + gulls. Keeled over on the port tack, she passed close + under our stern. We could see the white bone she + had in her small white teeth, and we could see that + beautiful roundness of full sails. A sea gull—a + white albatross sailing by—or, simply, a whitecap + upon the waves!</p> + + <p>We were off Cape Sable, the most southerly + point of Nova Scotia. All day long the breeze rose, + keeling us over more and more. The sails were + watched as a cat watches a bird, in case a sudden + squall should necessitate letting them out, or even + reefing them. How I wished that we might have to + reef!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Table Racks</span></p> + + <p>The sea rose and rose in all its foaming greenness, + until it had reached the point where it had been + on the first day; but it did not stop there. It kept on + coming up until, to me, it began to look actually + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> + raging. When night shut down, the sea was in a + tumult; and the effect of the darkness on that raging + water seemed to me to intensify its anger. When, for + the first time, we ate with table racks, it was marvellously + exciting. On previous days there had been + enough roll to slop the tea about considerably; but + the cook seemed to think that this long, steady, deep + cant needed the racks more than a crazy rolling. + </p> + + <p>Bill thought the worst wasn’t over yet; and + since the seas were still becoming angrier and angrier, + I believed him, and hoped that it was true. + That night I went to sleep in a crazily tilted bunk. I + slept as soundly as ever, and had to have another + waking in the morning.</p> + + <p>I consider that fifth day, the first of wind, as + the beginning of the second half of the trip. Somehow, + things changed on that day, and we began to + see everything in a brighter, even a more piratical + light.</p> + + <p>I forgot to say that on that day we had seen + our first blackfish. Bob was at the wheel, and his keen + sailor’s eyes had made out the fountain which, + like whales, they blow up. This fish was near the + schooner, and playing leisurely about, always blowing. + Every now and then we would see its black, + shiny back looming up out of the sea like a dark + boulder, or the forked, Y-shaped tail. The water + which it spouted was so like a whitecap, or a wave + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>throwing up foam, that I didn’t see it nearly so + many times as the trained eyes of Bob. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>In the way of weather, the next day was without + doubt the most exciting of the whole glorious trip. + There was not so much talk with the crew, but the + weather quite made up for that, and it, after all, was + the greatest thing. When I woke up I had a sudden + fancy that the ship had turned over, and was sailing + upside down. Indeed, when I put my feet on the + floor, it slid out from under me, as it were, and I + had to be thoroughly awake before I could stand up, + even dizzily. The leeward rail was almost buried, + and later I discovered the sea spraying in through + the scuppers.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The “Gale-o’-Wind”</span></p> + + <p>When I thrust my head out of the cabin door, I + was immediately blinded by the force of the wind, + and I couldn’t hear my own thoughts for the howling + and rushing. A marvellous summer gale, dead + from the northeast. Then I thought of Bill. It was + just as he had said. I would never doubt or make light + of his prophecies again. The sea was a raging wild + whirlpool. The great green waves burst up and up, + crested with roaring foam, breaking and breaking + against the side of the ship, throwing their foam on + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> + to the deck. To me it seemed a typhoon. To them it + was a summer gale. + </p> + + <p>I cannot describe the awesome howling and raging + of it. The sea swirled wildly, dark green, foaming. + The sky was overcast, and that made everything + seem more sinister. The sails were close-hauled, but + not yet reefed; we were on the starboard tack, and + making ten knots—a very satisfactory speed. And + I heard again that singing sound aloft in the sails, + still more loud and unearthly than the day before.</p> + + <p>The sea was nothing but a mad rush of flying + foam. Everything seemed one with it—even the + wind, even the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> herself. Two storm + petrels—Mother Carey’s chickens—were blown + like clots of dark foam across the sea; they had long, + slender, dark wings, and they held them motionless + and were scudded across. How I should have loved + to see an albatross! Or a whale!</p> + + <p>I could barely turn my face to the wind, and + this fact helped to create my awed impression of it. + When I wanted to walk forward I had to lower my + head and hand myself step by step along the deckhouse, + staggering even then. I saw some of the crew + floundering. But the cook—not he! He walked in a + straight, sure, steady line from the galley aft, with + his heavy basket of food. When I asked Mate Bill + whether this was a breeze, or a wind, or a gale, he + said that it was “blowin’ real hard. Yes, it sure is. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>Any more than this would be uncomfortable—we + might have to reef.” And the captain didn’t scorn + this either. At breakfast-time, when the table racks + were up, the table set, and the bell rung, he came + down into the cabin, his white hair blown with the + wind, his cheeks fresh and rosy, and said: “Say, + folks, it’s blowin’ quite a few up there!” It was. + The only one who scorned that wind was—you + couldn’t guess. No, not with a hundred guesses! It + was Richardson. <em>Richardson!</em> I asked him, just to + compare a sailor’s notion of this with a landsman’s, + whether he thought it was breeze, wind, or gale. + And Richardson said: “Oh, I’d call this a little + breeze.” And it was not a joke! He was in dead + earnest. He just wanted terribly to impress me. + </p> + + <p>When again I stuck my head out into that howling, + again I was awed speechless. The schooner now + had her cutwater buried in foam. The roaring mountains + of it which we piled up left her traces for + miles upon the sea. I wish we could have seen her + from farther off, as she leaned there, like a sea gull + flying, or a wisp of foam. Now the sails were no + longer so gently, evenly full of wind: they were + stretched and puffed out furiously, distorted by the + strain into unnatural shapes. I could see, looking at + the canvas, how they were tugging at every squall.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Wild Weather</span></p> + + <p>The only place I could think of to sit down on + was the canted leeward side of the deckhouse. I sat + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> + on the very edge of it, with my feet braced firmly + against the taffrail. If that part of the rail had gone, + I should have gone with it. But the old man came + along, found me sitting there, and decided that I + shouldn’t be allowed to do <em>that</em> any longer. He told + me that it was dangerous, and that I must get down. + Down I got. Then I decided that I would go up on + the fo’c’sle deck, and I asked Bill if that were all + right. Bill replied that I oughtn’t to do that, because + the jib sheets were rather old and frayed, and + with that strain on them might give way at any moment, + sending the blocks banging about. He told me + that he knew a man who had gone forrard on a job + in the middle of a gale, and a jib sheet had given + way, and he had been killed by a blow of the loose + block. So I promised I wouldn’t go there. Then all + I could think of to keep myself warm was to run + back and forth on deck, and since I couldn’t do that + aft, I went cautiously down the poop deck steps and + started tearing like a race horse back and forth between + the poop and the fo’c’sle, every now and then + looking out the scupper holes or over the bulwarks + at the foam. The waves were no longer great green + hills crowned with their ivory castles: they were + furious volcanoes. The sea was hurling aloft thousands + of mountains, carving deep and terrifying + valleys, and then ruthlessly destroying them again.</p> + + <p>It was a curious and difficult experience to run + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>upon the deck. Besides the deep cant to leeward, the + ship was rolling head-on, not on the waves of the + gale, but simply on the tidal swell; and this roll + seemed so much part of the cant that you didn’t + notice it until you began to have trouble managing + your feet. It <em>seemed</em> as though the schooner were + steady and firm. Yet, when you ran to the fo’c’sle, + you were running first up a very steep hill which tired + your legs dreadfully, then down so steep a hill that + you almost fell on your face. Sometimes when I + would put my foot down, the deck had slid out from + beneath me and was ’way down at the bottom of the + sea somewhere, and at the next step the deck was + there long before I was, so that I would stumble over + it, as it were. + </p> + + <p>When the cook saw me dashing so madly up + and down the deck, he was amused, and shouted + from the galley door: “What you doin’? Practisin’ + for a relay team?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, just keeping warm,” I replied.</p> + + <p>“What do you think of the breeze?”</p> + + <p>“Breeze!” said I. “I should rather call it + a gale.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, yes,” said he, “it’s a pretty little wind + for this time o’ year. I didn’t expect nothin’ like + this.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Beating to Windward</span></p> + + <p>Again I was so awed by the sinister look of it + that I could not speak. It was that way with me + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> + every time I looked at the overcast, gloomy sky, the + raging sea, the strangely gleaming foam, the howling + wind, the singing sails, the mountains of foam + which we pushed up in great billows. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>How the day went, I never did know; it went + like the wind. Most of the time I was either running + up and down the deck or standing on the poop deck, + just gazing and gazing out to sea; or else I was + watching the tactics of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> Of course, + since the wind was coming from northeast, we had + to tack. It was just as I had hoped, for I had always + rather wanted to see how the schooner would tack in + a good gale. I was disappointed, however, in the way + she didn’t lie close to the wind. She would run no + nearer it than four points. The captain said that this + was partly because she was light. “She’s light-headed,” + he explained; “that means she won’t tack. + She lay within three p’ints coming down, loaded.”</p> + + <p>We would sail for some two hours on one tack; + then the old man would take the wheel, in order to + have all hands free for the sails. He would steer “by + the wind”—that is, not taking any particular compass-line, + but keeping an eye on the sails and sailing + as near the wind as possible—and when everything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> + was ready forward, he would roar out in his + croaking, harsh old voice; “Ha‑a‑a‑ard a‑lee‑e‑e‑ee!” + And then the mate, usually on the fo’c’sle deck, + would answer out in his more hearty voice: “Hard + alee, sir!” And then you would be sure to hear the + bo’s’n, from some nook or cranny of the vessel, + echoing: “Hard alee, sir!” The ship would swing + over until she lay on the other side of the wind—though + it always seemed as if the wind, not she, had + changed. They tacked neatly, though a little frantically. + But the cook disdained their performance, and + spent a long time telling me how lazy and slow and + ignorant they were, and how much more complicated + it was to tack a square-rigged ship, when there + were more than ten times as many sails and ropes, + each one to be adjusted.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Darkness</span></p> + + <p>As I said, the day went very fast. There was + nothing but the gale, the foam, the waves—now + and then penetrated by one of the skipper’s terrible + whoops. (His voice seemed always on the point of + cracking in two; he used to yell out that “Hard + alee!” so loudly that his voice would vanish entirely + into the air.) I shall never forget the strange, + wild, melancholy feeling which that overcast and + howling day gave me. I would sit for hours on the + corner of the deckhouse, and watch it, and face up + into it, and yield to it, and cower before it. It was + even more sinister than mountain-tops with the wind + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> + droning about them; more so even than the night in + which Daddy and I were on the top of Moosilauke—that + night of the great gale, with the biting mist + and the stinging sleet. We went out together that + night, wrapped in blankets, braving it. I remember + the mountain feeling which spellbound us, and the + loneliness of it—and the way <span class="smcap">it</span> glowered at us out + of the fog. This was like it. Every trace of that gay, + piratical feeling left me. There was nothing but the + gale. And, though it was all piratical and sailor-like, it + crowded all feelings out of you except the feeling of + its awesome self. + </p> + + <p>But the darkness, when it began to shut down, + was the most overwhelming of all. To see the storm + growing dark, and the foam still gleaming ghostlike, + and to feel the wind howling in a way which it has at + night—we almost trembled. The sailors didn’t like + it so well as we. They wished that it weren’t from + the northeast; anywhere but northeast! said they. + The captain was heard to say something about anchoring, + and the mate to say something about sailing + a hundred miles that day without making an inch + of progress to the northeast. While everything was + vague rumor, and no one seemed to know much + about anything, Bill came aft and was heard to say + to the old man: “Are you going to anchor, sir?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, I’m goin’ t’ get that mudhook down, + Bill, if I can,” said he. We made our way in pretty + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>close to land somewhere off Cape Sable. Down with + the sails, and down with the mudhook. And then, + through the midst of the gale, with the howling + above us all night, and the tossing of the ship, and + the noise and confusion down in the cabin, we slept + and rolled. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Here I must say a little something about the + captain’s curious method of sleeping. We took two + bunks aft, of course, and one of them had been the + captain’s. The skipper himself slept in the chartroom + on an old couch, and he was always so sleepy + when he went to bed for a snooze that he would + tumble asleep with everything in the world piled on + top of him. The afternoon of the first day, taking + advantage of a chance to sleep a bit, he tumbled on + to that couch, where we, innocently enough, had put + a great deal of our luggage. We saw him sleeping + there with bags of oranges, suitcases, and everything + you ever heard of piled on top of him, as well + as a tangle of blankets. Since then he had complained + more or less about that couch, and how difficult it + was to sleep on. It seemed to account for part of his + decided nonchalance towards his passengers.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Square-rigged Cook</span></p> + + <p>Our crude meals were getting to be terribly + awkward now. There was a decided withdrawal + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> + from the captain, shared by everybody. The meals + had their amusing aspects, though, and sometimes I + would come near laughing aloud. The captain immediately + started talking in his long-winded way + about something which he didn’t know the first thing + about. The cook stood there, arms folded, glowering + with solemn dignity, and the mate and I sat + silently, now and then winking at each other. The + only trouble was that we couldn’t laugh aloud as we + always wanted to. + </p> + + <p>Then there was the cook’s feeling of superiority + to the crew, in addition to his hatred of the skipper. + There was a little sliding door which opened from + the galley into the fo’c’sle—a door which the cook + would open for a few seconds while he passed the + crew’s food through. He would pass the food + through scornfully, as if throwing it to dogs. And + then the way he would slam that little sliding door! + a slam of pure disgust. Once, when a dish of mixed + grub was sent through, our friend Richardson ventured + to say mockingly: “What’s that?” But it + wouldn’t pass with the cook; no indeed! He said, + with a mild oath: “You’d better shut your jaw, or + you won’t get no more”; and <i>slam!</i> went the sliding + door.</p> + + <p>The cook showed in many ways what a real + sailor he had been, and in what real sailing days he + had lived. Sometimes, when three or four of the + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>crew were struggling with some difficult job, clewing + a topsail, close-hauling a sail in a breeze, or unfurling + the topsails, he would come out, with his apron + tucked up before him in a business-like<!--businesslike -> business-like--> way, and with + the strings always flopping behind, and he would + stand by and watch their efforts a little disdainfully. + Then he would begin to shout and encourage them, + in the true square-rigged style. And every time they + brought their weight down upon the rope, he would + sing out a different phrase: “<em>Haul</em> away! <em>Now</em>, boys! + <em>All</em> together! <em>Well</em>, then! <em>Heave</em> away! <em>Heave</em> ’n’ + raise the dead!” It really did encourage them, too. + I used to feel that he would break into a chantey, + next. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Fo’c’sle Entertainment</span></p> + + <p>For two or three days I was mightily teased by + the crew. They had discovered, much to my relief, + that I wasn’t seasick, and in all probability shouldn’t + be. So they had let up on that subject. But there was + another possibility, which they noticed in a flash. It + was the thought that I might be irritated if they + accused me of being homesick. In vain I turned upon + them. Even the mate, even the cook himself, shared + the fun. If I were discovered looking down into the + water, or up at the constantly swinging reef points; + even if I sat on the saddle of the spanker boom and + looked out over the sea, one of them would come + along and tap me meaningly on the shoulder, saying: + “Well, Barbara, gettin’ homesick?” Once the cook + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> + made me almost furious. I was sitting on his galley + doorstep, silent for a moment, and suddenly he + launched this remark at me: “Ye’re gettin’ terrible + homesick, ain’t you?” I had discovered the futility + of trying to prevent these taunts. I simply said: “I + never get homesick, and I’m not now.” But when, + after a little talk, I started to walk aft, the cook + said: “You don’t need t’ go away mad!” “Mad?” + said I. “What under the sun should I be mad + about?” And then: “It’s just a saying,” said he. + </p> + + <p>It was the same if I expressed a desire for a + little more wind, like what we had had before. Then + I was accused of “wantin’ to get there too quick.” + And even when, as we approached the entrance to + the harbor a few days afterwards, I said something + about how beautiful it was, they immediately asserted + that I was eager “to be gettin’ ashore.” But + I refused to be more than secretly irritated at the + teasing of the crew I had so longed to sail with.</p> + + <p>Roy had a harmonica. There was a great deal + of merrymaking in the fo’c’sle with it. Oftentimes + the bo’s’n, whose place is aft, and who is not supposed + to join in with the crew too freely, would go + into the fo’c’sle and ask Roy to play this tune or + that. I used to ask Roy what were some of the things + which he played—such things as “Oh, Katherina!” + “’Twas three o’clock<!--o’-clock -> o’clock--> in the morning,” and “The + Rosewood Casket.” He really managed his little + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>harmonica very well, using a cup for a sounding-post. + Sometimes Richardson played it; he was + even more brilliant, but not so careful. Oftentimes + Roy would play it out on deck, sitting on the covers + of the hatchways; or he would play it from within + the fo’c’sle. + </p> + + <p>Once when I was in the galley with the cook I + heard music from the fo’c’sle, and on opening the + little sliding door I beheld Roy, with his harmonica, + playing a brisk waltz and waltzing gaily around the + fo’c’sle to his own music<a id="noteref-2" class="note-anchor" href="#note-2">[2]</a>—</p> + + <div id="score"> + <img src="images/score.svg" alt="A short score of music"> + </div> + + <audio controls="controls" src="music/score.mp3"> + Audio content is not currently supported on your device.</audio> + + <p>all in a space about the size of an ordinary dining-table. + He was turning round and round, taking tiny + steps. This was one of the most amusing things I + saw among the crew.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Dismal Weather</span></p> + + <p>He grinned rather sheepishly when he saw that + I was watching him, and there followed quite a + parley about dancing of one kind and another. + This led to a gathering of the crew, and everyone + got to talking about it. I happened, though somewhat + in jest, to ask Bill if he could dance a sailor’s + hornpipe. But Bill rather sadly shook his head, and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> + Bob struck in scornfully, and said: “Oh, him! He + couldn’t dance a cow’s hornpipe.” + </p> + + <p>“No,” said Bill, “none o’ the family are much + good as dancers!”</p> + + <p>“Dick’s a good dancer.”</p> + + <p>“Yes, and a good waltzer, too.”</p> + + <p>The difference between a dancer and a waltzer + I never did find out. But I have always wished that + Bill <em>could</em> dance the sailor’s hornpipe.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>The next day (the seventh out) the breeze was + dying down. There was none of the whitecapped + fierceness of the day before; nothing but a gentle, + easy wash—a pretty good sailing breeze if only it + had been from a different direction. But it was holding + to northeast like grim death. It was a dull, sad + day. Early, there was a curtain, a thick veil, of white + sea fog over the coast, so that we couldn’t see it and + didn’t know how near it was. This rather disturbed + the old man, and he was afraid to pick up anchor. + It was slightly warmer than the day before, because + there was so much less wind. Later, the fog lifted, + and we saw the long, low, very black and dismal + shore line of Cape Sable, farther off than we had + suspected, lying under the fog. There were large + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>islands about, and the captain was kept at work for + some time with his charts, finding out exactly where + we were. He finally discovered that we were in what + is called Pubnico Harbor. I didn’t feel that it was + much of a harbor: we were exposed to the full force + of nearly all weathers. + </p> + + <p>Dinner that day started out to be as awkward + and uncomfortable as ever, what with the cook’s + hatred and the mate’s and my embarrassment. The + ship was still at anchor; indeed, the captain had definitely + agreed with the mate that we should not get + under way without the wind’s changing. But the captain + seemed to be blissfully unconscious of all the + awkwardness, and he sat there smiling away and + rattling on endlessly. He was just saying: “When I + came back from Florida—” and then he suddenly + decided that he should like a cigarette to go + with his strong black tea. He left us abruptly to get + one. While he was gone, the cook had an opportunity + of which he was not slow to take advantage. He + leaned ’way over toward us from his sentinel’s post + and said in a hoarse whisper: “Come back from + Floridy, did he? Hm! It’s a wonder the turkey + buzzards didn’t get him.” He said this in such a + deep, ominous voice that I felt myself almost shivering. + What a piratical little old man!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">“But I Gest it will be Talk”</span></p> + + <p>That was not the last of it. The captain returned, + and we fell to talking about wolves. I don’t + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> + know what he knew about them, but he seemed to + find plenty to say about anything at all, and a lot + left over. The meal was shortly over, and again the + cook bent down and whispered to us: “Hm! I guess + the wolves wouldn’t want <em>him</em> much—nothin’ there + but bones.” Mutiny! + </p> + + <p>I’m sure that a mutiny would really have risen + if we had had a crew of any spirit at all. I can readily + imagine the cook standing up on top of a keg of rum, + addressing the crew as ringleader, and I can imagine + his carrying them with him—oh, how he + would carry them!—and I can see them all drawing + their cutlasses, flashing them aloft, and crying out: + “All hail to the steward!” But it was a dull crew—a + gloomy, sad, dejected, rather too good-natured + crew, usually. Such things would not go with them. + They were quite content to <em>talk</em> about the old man, + to criticize him in every way that they could think of.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>I had a good talk with the mate that afternoon—or, + rather, a good listening to the mate. The + bo’s’n had been painting up the engine-room; he had + painted the machinery red, black, and green. Very + gay it looked, and he was rather proud of his work, + and took me in to see it. I told him it was a fine + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>job, and we had a minute of conversation, Bob telling + me something about the machinery, with a + sprinkling of talk concerning the old man. Then I + went to see Bill, who was off duty at that moment. + I asked him if he didn’t think Bob had done a good + job in the engine-room. And this was his reply: + </p> + + <p>“Oh, yes, pretty good for Bob. But it’s nothin’ + compared to the job I done once, when I was bo’s’n + on a four-masted schooner. I allus did have a craze + for neatness, everythin’ in <em>order</em>. Well, that engine-room + o’ theirs was a <em>mess</em> when they enlisted me as + bo’s’n. I niver seen a worse mess. ’N’ I went right to + work, ’n’ I scraped the floor, ’n’ the walls, ’n’ the ceiling, + ’n’ I painted all the wheels and the engine all + over agin, ’n’ I varnished the floor, ’n’ I scrubbed it + all up spick and span as could be. Well, the skipper + knowed that I was forrard, workin’ there, ’n’ one + day he come forrard to see about it. Well, I had that + place so clean that you could go in there in a clean + white shirt ’n’ run the engine ’n’ niver get a speck of + dirt or grease on it. Well, the skipper was awful + pleased, ’n’ he said: ‘Bo’s’n, I’m proud o’ that job—I + niver had a engine-room lookin’ so good as + that.’ Well, I was a young man then, and I was + proud, I tell you!”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Fantasy in Fog</span></p> + + <p>That day proved, except for the wonderful remarks + of the cook, to be quite monotonous. If we + had been sailing, with the mudhook lifted, it really + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> + wouldn’t have made much difference, in that gloom + and fog. The sea was very mysterious. The wild gale + had vanished, but there was quite a swash left over. + We stayed there all day, and rolled. + </p> + + <p>And we rolled in our bunks all night, to a jingling + of bottles in the medicine-cabinet, the banging + of doors, and the yelling of Bill as he strove to wake + up Bob every four hours. The next day, waking up + to find the schooner still rolling crazily about, we + went out on deck, very curious to find out what the + weather was doing. It gave us a cold, cold reception. + The first thing I saw was the crazy motion of the + deck, and next I saw the sea where the sky ought to + be, and then the sky where the sea ought to be. The + fog had gathered around us thickly and menacingly, + saturating the air with brine, dismal and wet to + breathe. It curled around us in weird and fantastic + shapes, like mountain mist, but not so white and + beautiful.</p> + + <p>We could just see the bow of the vessel from + where we were, aft, and we could clearly see that + thick fog wafting across through the jibs, above the + bowsprit. The schooner was in a mysterious little + world of her own—a world of about a hundred + feet on all sides; beyond it, blankness and silence. It + was tangible space; you could see nothing—the + nothingness—so clearly. The ghostly ocean had + turned to a silver-gray, and it slipped away beneath + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>us and fell back, then rose and rose again, slidingly, + mingling with the sky. We could not distinguish between + the swells even so much as when it was clear. + I would be looking steadfastly at what used to be the + sky: then, suddenly, I would see nothing but those + shifting waters there, and then they would fall back, + and down, and again there was a wheeling sky of + fog. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>While I was still down in the cabin, early that + morning, a strange sound had startled me—a roaring + drone, very sinister and terrible. At first, + alarmed, I had wondered in vain what it was. But + when I went on deck and saw that fog I knew immediately: + the ship’s foghorn. Do you know what I + thought of when I first recognized it? I thought of + Billy Bones, who used to blow through his nose + “like a foghorn.” I was curious to see how it was + worked, but there wasn’t time before breakfast. + I went down with a hearty appetite, encouraged by + that strong briny smell.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Skipper’s Pet Month</span></p> + + <p>I don’t know when I had been amused by the + old captain so much as I was just after the meal, + when, as we all started to go out on deck together, + he began to explain. We went up the steep, small + steps before him, but he followed us. He began down + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span> + in the cabin to ejaculate: “Well, folks, this is a + mull! A regular mull. It’s a June mull! A regular + June mull.” And then, following us out on to the + deck, he kept on in a low monotone: “Yes, folks, it + certainly is a mull—a regular mull—a June mull—a + regular June mull! We have these regular mulls + every June. Yes, folks, it’s just what I expected. A + mull! That’s what it is! A regular June mull!” + (When I got home, after adventures yet to be reported, + I immediately went to my dictionary to look + up the word “mull.” It seems to have all meanings + except that of a spell of foggy weather. And I don’t + at all know what was meant, if not that. Possibly it + was Captain Avery’s own invention—that word; + and possibly that was why he enjoyed saying it so + much.)<!-- Add missing parenthesis --> + </p> + + <p>Captain Avery had about ten thousand calendars + in that after cabin; calendars, apparently, from + all parts of the world. They lined the walls of every + bunk compartment. (Actually, I think there were + about nineteen, or some odd number like that.) Of + them all, there were a very few of 1927, from which + they reached back as far as 1922. I went exploring + among them, on the suggestion of my shipmate, to + see in what months they left off. And, strange to + relate, I found only three which got as far as December. + A few left off in April, May, July; a large + majority stopped short in various <em>Junes</em>.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> + + <p>“I believe the old man’s been keeping count of + June mulls!” said my shipmate.</p> + + <p>“It certainly looks so,” said I.</p> + + <p>This was about the wettest day we had; certainly + the wettest so far. The sheets were dripping, + and when, later, we got under way we found them + cold, stiff, and very hard to handle. As for the sails, + it was quite impossible to sit under or near them: + they kept shedding icy drops of concentrated sea fog + down the back of one’s neck.</p> + + <p>Two or three times we went into the galley to + get warm. Its stove was always roaring during this + cold weather, and the door was kept shut, seemingly + to keep the gravy smell in as well as the heat. Always + our visits were made exciting by piratical remarks. + Once I was sitting on the galley doorstep with my + head out in the fog; my shipmate was farther back + inside; and the cook was standing by the cupboards, + making dough. The remark was not intended for + my ears, but I overheard it. He had begun by saying, + in all probability, profane things about Captain + Avery, crowning his talk with this: “’F you folks + wasn’t aboard, I’d be tempted to p’ison the food!” + I was so stunned by this that I couldn’t believe I had + heard aright, and I turned upon the steward, saying: + “What was that, cook?” Then he felt abashed, I + think; anyway, he said: “Hm! I guess it’s as well + you didn’t hear.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Up with the Mudhook</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p> + The old man sat still at anchor for a great part + of the day. Then he had an idea the wind was shifting + slightly to the south. Really it was just a little + whim of the breeze, but the old man was evidently + eager to arrive at Bridgewater, and, without any + <i>yoho</i>-ing from that gloomy crew, the engine was + started, and the mudhook came up through the intense + fog, looking more than ever like a ghostly + skeleton. + </p> + + <p>Shortly after that the mate and I had a marvellous + talk behind the fo’c’sle, sitting side by side + on the roof of it. The mate began by saying what a + blankety-blank fool he thought the old man was:</p> + + <p>“Here we was, sitting comfortable at anchor, + knowin’ where we was, in Pubnico Harbor. Now + here the breeze swings off a quarter point to sou’. + Well, the old man takes that too serious, specially + when there ain’t no wind nohow. So up with the + mudhook, and up with the sails into the fog, and + off we starts. <em>Now</em> look at us! There are the sails + flappin’ and flappin’, and here is we rollin’ and + beatin’ around. The fool! He’ll lose his reck’nin’, + sure. I know he will! Well, if <em>I</em> had anything to say + about it, I wouldn’t ’a’ tried it!</p> + + <p>“Well, Barbara, how you feeling now?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span></p> + + <p>“Oh, I’m first-rate, mate!”</p> + + <p>“Well, you’ve done fine. I thought sure you’d + be sick.”</p> + + <p>“Yes, and you acted kind of as though it would + have been a grand joke if I had been, too.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, but I was just teasin’ you. I niver had a + young sister to play with, and now one comes along + quite handy, and I can’t help it.”</p> + + <p>“Yes, you were teasing, all right! But as for + the cook, I think he’d have been awfully glad if I + had been moderately sick.”</p> + + <p>“The steward? Sure, he’d ’a’ been glad enough + to see you sick. But as for me, I hoped you wouldn’t + be—’cos, I’ll tell it to you before your face or behind + your back, you’re the smartest li’l girl I ever + seen aboard of a vessel yit. Ye’re not afraid t’ ask + questions, an’ ye’re not afraid t’ work, neither.”</p> + + <p>“Well, mate, I’ve always wanted to go sailing, + and now that I’m doing it I might as well chip in and + help, and learn.”</p> + + <p>“Sure! Well, not everyone would.”</p> + + <p>And then, after that gallant remark, the mate + fell to telling me about the state of affairs at home.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Bill in Private Life</span></p> + + <p>“You know, Barbara, when I got married, I + was married on a Monday, and I went off t’ sea agin + Tuesday. I didn’t come back home fer six months. + ’n’ then I stayed home all day Monday, ’n’ went off + t’ sea agin Tuesday. Well, it did seem kind of tough + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> + at the time, but now I’m glad I don’t see m’ wife + very often. Y’ see, it keeps us from gettin’ tired of + each other. Now, when I go home, we have more + fun! We’re just like a couple o’ kids. We sit together + and bicker and bicker all th’ time. + </p> + + <p>“Well, my wife does a great deal in the line of + fancy ’mbroidery. She can do all kinds of work of + that kind, and she does love to do it. So she sits at + one end of the table, evenings, with some work of + that kind, and I sit at the other end, whittlin’ or + carving with wood, and we do have a good time.”</p> + + <p>“Do you do much whittling and wood-carving, + mate?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, I do quite a bit. And I have a lot of fun + doing it, too. I like nothin’ better than to take a block + of good wood, and a good knife (only I never have + one), and sit by the fire in the stove, to carve something. + I did a full-rigged ship model once—oh! + I wish you could ’a’ seen her, Barbara; she was a + beauty! It took me about two weeks around Christmas-time + to make her. Well, a friend of mine, a sea + captain, came t’ see me, ’n’ he asked if he could have + her. ‘What’ll you give for her?’ I says. ‘Well, shipmate, + what do you ask?’ ‘Oh, you can have her fer + five dollars,’ I says. So he give me five dollars fer + her. Then, later, he told me that he had been offered + sixty dollars for that ship of mine, ’n’ that he had + refused to sell her fer that!</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span></p> + + <p>“Yes, I seem to be gifted in that line. I did a + violin once, from a model of an old one that a friend + o’ mine had. I worked on it all summer, ’n’ another + friend played on it fer a long time. I had a lot of + fun making it. But the hardest part was making the + holes fer the pegs. Y’ see, they are so much narrower + on the inside than on the outside that it’s very + hard to get at them. Well, I strung her up, ’n’ she + made a good little violin.</p> + + <p>“’N’ I do quite a little in the painting line, too. + I used t’ do water-color sketches of full-rigged ships, + with the sky ’n’ the sea all painted in, and painted + good, too. I used t’ sell ’em fer a dollar apiece. Yes, + I had considerable thought of bein’ an artist. But + there wasn’t enough money, ’n’ I had t’ get out and + earn, so I went t’ sea. ’N’ at sea I stayed, ’n’ I guess + I always will. Y’ see, I can carve, and I can paint, + but here I am wasting my life with Cap’n Avery—sixty + per month. It seems hard. I think I’ll resign + at Bridgewater. But, ye see, I don’t want t’ do the + old man any harm. I wouldn’t harm him fer worlds; + not me. ’N’ if I did resign, then the hull crew would. + Didn’t ye hear what Richardson said about me holdin’ + the crew together? Well, that’s a fact.”</p> + + <p>“How many are there in your family?”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Souvenir</span></p> + + <p>“Well, there was twenty births in the family, + but there are only eight now. Some o’ them died in + the war, some o’ them died of sickness. I have one + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> + little brother that I haven’t seen since he was five + months old. An’ when Mother died, there I was, th’ + oldest of the family, with a little sister ten years old, + and another one only eight—an’ I tell you, I felt + powerful lonely. Well, I went right off to sea, and left + the young children with an aunt. Now they’s almost + all married, and has children of their own. As fer myself, + I have three children—two sons and a + daughter.” + </p> + + <p>He picked up a little sliver from a board which + was left over from the lumber cargo, opened his + knife, and carved away at it. (It is funny about Bill’s + knives. He told me he had about four around on the + schooner somewhere, and that they kept cropping up + here and there and then disappearing, and that Bob + had two or three of them. Almost every one is + broken. It seems that Bill isn’t wealthy enough to + buy real knives, so he buys a thousand cheap tin + affairs which last about five minutes. I told him, + partly in joke, that I should certainly buy him a jackknife + the first thing when I got back to New Haven, + and send it up to Bridgewater before the schooner + sailed.) He carved that sliver, with amazing speed, + into a delightful little rowboat with a very accurate + keel and lovely lines along the gunwales. He tossed + it over to me immediately. I have that little boat + now—just about my only tangible remembrance of + Mate Bill and the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i></p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> + + <p>It was Bill’s watch above, but he didn’t seem + to have anything in particular to do, and he was evidently + glad to have someone to talk to. The silence + and gloom, with blasts from the foghorn every now + and then, struck home upon everyone’s senses. I began + to ask Bill the names of various things aboard. + I learned, on that day, a lot of ropes and blocks; + he answered every question carefully and clearly. + He was probably glad to air his knowledge a little.</p> + + <p>“By the way, mate,” said I, “I thought that + when the booms and sails are to starboard, then + you’re on the port tack, and that when the booms + and sails are to port, then you’re on the starboard + tack. Is that so?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, that’s right.”</p> + + <p>“Well, when I asked the cook this morning + about the foghorn, he said that there is one blast + when you’re on the port tack, two when you’re on + the starboard tack, and three when you’re running. + We’re on the port tack now, according to you, but + they are giving the horn two blasts.”</p> + + <p>“No, the steward’s got you all twisted round. + It’s one on the starboard tack, two on the port, and + three running.”</p> + + <p>“Well, I wondered who was wrong.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Deep Sea Clay</span></p> + + <p>“Now, I don’t like that at all,” said Bill. + “That’s just like the steward, to fool you that way. + Now, I like to answer questions that are asked me, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span> + as well as I know how. But him! No, you can never + tell with him. And, you see, he makes you disbelieve + me, and then I get in wrong there.” + </p> + + <p>“No, I didn’t disbelieve you, mate. I thought + that, ten to one, the cook was wrong.”</p> + + <p>“Yes, he’s wrong. That is, I was always + learned the way I told you. That may not be right, + but it’s the way I was learned.”</p> + + <p>So we sat there in that ghostly fog, and discussed + multitudinous little subjects—about sailing + vessels, mostly—and I began to think that I had + never known anyone more entertaining than Mate + Bill. He was my idea of a real sailor.</p> + + <p>When we dropped anchor during that wild + night, it had evidently been over a clayey bottom; + the anchor had three or four good-sized lumps of + sticky gray clay on it. I fell to scraping it off, and + Bill scraped some off, too. I started molding it in + my hands until I had got it to the right texture; then + I showed Bill how I had been taught to make pottery + out of it, first making a smooth round of clay for the + bottom, then rolling out long slender coils of it, and + coiling it on to that bottom round, coil after coil, + and in that way building up a jar or bowl. I loved + that clay, because it was full of little shells and pebbles + which had become stuck into it; I found some + delightful ones. Then I started making two blocks, + absolutely smooth, and with sharp corners. I put + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span>them down on the bulwarks beside the cathead to + dry. It was a secret between Bill and me that they + were to heave at the old man, when they dried and + became hard, if he came forward interfering in what + was none of his business. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">High Hopes</span></p> + + <p>Bill and I must have been talking and playing + there on the fo’c’sle well over an hour, when suddenly + there came a whoop from aft. Immediately + everyone was excited. It was that infernal “Here, + boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” Since it was the + mate’s watch, or supposed to be, and since it was + probably growing upon Bill’s conscience that he had + been idling for longer than he should have, he left + me with a bound, crossed the rolling deck in three + more leaps, and was beside the skipper. As for me, + I was eager to find out what the disturbance was, + and I started to climb down from the roof of the + fo’c’sle to see for myself. But I was unable to cross + the deck with the speed and agility of the mate; I + walked slowly, though steadily, and climbed with + some difficulty up the poop deck stairs. I beheld a + very amazing sight. The captain had a boat hook + down over the port side of the schooner, with something + hooked on to the end of it—a crate or box of + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> + some kind, as it looked. Evidently, when he had once + got it hooked, it had been too heavy for him, and he + had been unable to hold it, but, unwilling to let go, + on the chance that it might be something worth having, + he had started whooping for help. Now the + whole crew had gathered there, and they all had + boat hooks down, and were hauling it up. It was a + large, heavy, mysterious box, and it rattled meaningly + from within. <em>What</em> could it be? Was it gold? + Mightn’t it be treasure? Supposing it were! Oh, + how marvellously piratical! My imagination reigned + supreme over my common sense then. + </p> + + <p>But things were becoming confused now. There + were so many of the crew there, and so many boat + hooks all struggling for a grasp on that one box, + that everyone was getting in everyone else’s way, + and the captain, as was his custom, was becoming + terribly excited. The red spot was glowing on his + cheek, and his eyes were flustered and wild. The + mate was trying desperately to shove him out of the + way, but he held on to his boat hook stubbornly, and + held the boat hook around the rope with which the + thing was tied, and, in resistance to the mate, he was + yelling out in a horrible voice: “Let go! Let go! + Let go! Let me go! Let go!”—followed by a furious + cascade of oaths. But the mate gently ushered the + old man out of the way, where he sank back upon the + deckhouse, exhausted, still grasping the boat hook.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> + + <p>That helped a lot; there was much less confusion. + And, although the captain still gurgled out + delicious oaths now and then, the crew kept their + heads pretty well, and brought the great box slowly + over the taffrail. What was within? I could hardly + contain myself. By the wicked glint in the old man’s + eyes—a glint like that of an eagle’s or a hawk’s—I + knew that he had some avaricious hopes that it + was a box of gold.</p> + + <p>The crew slid off the rope, and opened the + crate. Was it gold? What was it? Everyone peered + over everyone else’s shoulders. <em>Was</em> it gold—gleaming + gold? It was—</p> + + <p>It was—</p> + + <p>I can hardly bear to say. Not that it was disappointing + to me particularly, because my sense had + begun to come back and take revenge on my piratical + imagination. Of course, thought I, in this modern + time it couldn’t be gold; if this had happened in the + days of Blackbeard or John Flint, it might have + been. Besides, a box of gold would sink, not float + serenely past. It was—No shrinking, now; I have + got to tell. One more effort!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Questionable Spoil</span></p> + + <p>It was—a box of clams! hundreds and hundreds + of clams. At first we thought that they were + good, and this rather tickled the cook, who, as usual + when anything was going on, had come out of the + galley, his apron strings flopping behind him. But + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> + after they had broken open five or six and tasted + them— + </p> + + <p>The old man had pretty well recovered by this + time, and in exasperated tones he ordered the bo’s’n + to heave the box overboard. But they had already + dumped about half of the clams out upon the deck in + sorting them over, and there was an oily mess there. + The bo’s’n picked up the box, staggered under it, + and almost had it over the taffrail, when the weight + overwhelmed him, and again he staggered backwards + under it, spilling out most of the clams. A + mighty oath followed from the enraged bo’s’n; then + he shouted out to the mate: “Here, give a hand with + the cursed thing!” Together they got it over; + whereupon the bo’s’n fetched a shovel and scooped + the rest of the mess over.</p> + + <p>That was done, and it certainly did leave the + crew in a sullen, mutinous condition. “The idea,” + they cursed “—to put us to that trouble over an + old box of rotten clams!” The skipper, his greediness + disappointed, was shamefacedly pacing the deck, + while the cook retired into the galley, muttering: + “Oh, Lordy! Lordy!”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>The sea still heaved and pulsated strangely, + rose and slid back into its own deep hollows. All day + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>the fog scudded across, with its briny smell. It + seemed to be clutching you in its cold, wet arms, and + it saturated you. All you could breathe was that + damp, salt wetness. There were times when we could + barely see the tip of the flying jibboom from aft, and + there were other times when the sun tried its best to + shine through, and we could see up there the feeble + yellow splotch of it. And it was bitter cold—a wet, + miserable cold, not the fresh cold of the former + breeze. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Buoy in Fog</span></p> + + <p>There is nothing more uncanny than passing + a bell buoy or a whistling buoy in such weather. All + sense of direction is lost. To tell which way we were + heading, or from which way the wind was coming, I + saw even the crew go up aft to look at the compass. + Everything was a moving space, swirling slowly + around and around us. Approaching a buoy, you + hear first a loud whistling and droning somewhere + far off in the future; and, because you can’t see it, it + makes you shudder. Sometimes you think it’s to starboard, + and sometimes you are sure it’s to port, and + then you have the strangest feeling that it’s dead + astern. But how can it be astern, you ask yourself, + when you haven’t yet passed it? You can’t definitely + tell where it is until you come within sight of it, or + unless you have sea ears trained for such things. + You become haunted with the strange music of that + whistler, and you listen and listen for it, to find out + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span> + <em>where</em> it is. But it mocks you, and dodges you, and + plays hide and seek with you, knowing itself quite + safe beneath the curtain of fog. + </p> + + <p>Yes, you feel that it is a mournful and mocking + sound, that calling. And then, perhaps the fog breaks + for an instant, and you see the thing which has been + playing with you. You see it looming vaguely, + strangely, from sea and fog all mixed together—a + great red monster lifting up its head to howl, a + haunted brick-red castle, rocking there amid the + swell. And then it roars or tolls its bell again, and + you feel that it has lifted its voice in despair at being + discovered.</p> + + <p>Watching a buoy, we could see very clearly how + slowly the ship was making headway, and how fast + she was making leeway. We felt, seeing a thing like + that looming at us from the depths of the sea, more + alone and queer, more desolate than ever. Again + that sense of solitude overwhelmed us.</p> + + <p>This happened once or twice that day. But the + captain had lost his reckoning—absolutely lost it! + His instruments depended upon the sun, and there + was none of that. Dead reckoning was of no use, + because of the leeway, and the no wind, and the + swell. When we passed a buoy which the captain + didn’t understand, he and the mate got together on + the cabin floor, on their knees and elbows, over the + chart, one on each side of it, to work out the position. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>Neither could come to a definite solution of that + buoy, and the captain appeared nervous and worried. + He would come on deck, saying: “If there’s + anything I hate, it’s these June mulls!” And then the + mate would say, very confidentially, to me: “It’s + his own fault, the withered old fool. If he’d done + what he oughter have done, stayed right there where + he knew where he was, we wouldn’t have got into + this trouble. Sometimes I think the old fellow’s got + no more sense than a baby.” + </p> + + <p>There was nothing much to be done; at least, if + there were anything the captain certainly showed + his ignorance of it. Some of the crew thought that he + ought to drop anchor now, before they got into a + hole somewhere alongshore. But the old man kept + a-going, and we beat about, blowing that infernal + horn, all day. What with the gloom, the silence, the + fog, the wetness and coldness, and that horn at + regular intervals, we were pretty tired by evening, + and ready enough to drop into our bunks. I had + tried pumping the horn a little, and found that I + enjoyed the sound somewhat more when I helped to + make it.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Impudence from the Foghorn</span></p> + + <p>There is one amusing detail connected with that + horn which I mustn’t forget. It was a rather rickety + old affair, and if you pumped it too furiously it + would stop its long, steady drone and go off into + croaking falsetto whoops. It was a commonly agreed + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> + fact among the crew that, when it did this, it was + exactly like the old man’s voice. When the old man + pumped his voice too hard, it, too, would go off into + the same sort of croaking whoops. And the crew—especially, + of course, Bob, who, when it was his trick + at the horn, always, after pumping it correctly for + a few seconds, let it go off into those whoops—thought + it a great joke to make the horn echo the + old man’s excitement. It all disgusted the old cook + very much. He would sit in the galley door, with a + roaring fire in the galley stove (to which we would + come in at frequent intervals for a warming-up), + muttering his favorite mutter of “Oh, Lordy! + Lordy!” and saying that it was all nonsense, that + business. But it seemed rather to tickle the mate, + who, with his customary malicious chuckles, would + pretend to be rather disgusted, but whose eyes would + twinkle in that piratical way which made me think + that he really enjoyed the joke. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>We beat about, hard-aleeing, all the afternoon. + That awful “Hard alee!” whoop of the skipper + sounded inexpressibly dismal, echoing through + the fog, and echoed by the foghorn. After a diverting + yarn from the steward, which I shall soon repeat, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>we slept in the midst of the roll, and were grateful + for the privilege. + </p> + + <p>The cook, returning after supper from the cabin + with his basket of food and dirty dishes, saw the two + of us promenading the decks in the fog, apparently + doing just about nothing, and he decided that it was + a bully good chance for talking. He stood there securely, + holding his basket, and rattled on and on and + on until I felt pretty sure there would be no finish, + ever. I missed, unfortunately, the beginning of the + tale; not realizing what we were in for, I had started + walking forward, looking over the bulwarks. When I + returned, the yarn was <i>in medias res</i>. The cook, it + seemed, was in a three-masted schooner which was + going to race a four-masted schooner from somewhere + to somewhere else, to find out which was the + better vessel. As I missed the beginning, I don’t know + any more about it. The cook was just saying, with + the most dramatic gesticulation I had ever seen:</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Sporting Event</span></p> + + <p>“—Well, it was a fine day, that day we was + goin’ to race; good sailin’ breeze, everythin’ just + dandy. But luck seemed to be agin us. We manned + the capstan at the same time as the crew of t’ other + vessel, an’ we was workin’ away good and brisk, + but it didn’t seem t’ work right. Well, we had t’ stop + heavin’ and see what was the matter. It took a good + long time t’ get it fixed, ’n’ then ’twarn’t fixed right, + so we had a bully hard time gettin’ the anchor up. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span> + By this time, the four-master was out o’ the harbor, + gettin’ a good breeze, ’n’ a’most out o’ sight. Then + we started t’ get our centerboard down. But that + didn’t work right, neither, and try as we might, we + couldn’t get her down. We got grease ’n’ poured it + down, and I brought soap from the galley, ’n’ we + worked away ’n’ worked away at it. Well, finally + we got her down, ’n’ then we got our sails up ’n’ were + off. + </p> + + <p>“I thought we was niver goin’ out o’ that + harbor. There wasn’t much wind there, ’n’ we went + so <em>slow</em>! Well, we got a good breeze after a time, ’n’ + then we did tear along. But the <i>Edward Coles</i> was + ’way out o’ sight, ’n’ we was pretty sure we was niver + goin’ to catch up with her. The next mornin’ there + was quite a argyment in the after cabin as t’ where + she was. Some held she was t’ windward of us, some + held to leeward, and some says she was straight + astern. The cap’n said she was t’ windward. But I + knowed better. Says I: ‘No, sir, she ain’t t’ windward, + she’s astern of us,’ ‘Oh, Si, it’s impossible. + I know she’s t’ windward.’ ‘I’ll wager with you + she’s astern,’ says I. ‘I won’t wager with you, Si, + ’cause you’ll on’y lose yer money. She’s t’ windward.’ + ‘what do you think, mate?’ says I t’ the chief mate. + ‘Oh, I think she’s t’ windward.’ ‘Sir,’ says I, ‘I + ’nsist I’ll wager with you. Now I’ll put up ten dollars + agin your ten cents, ’n’ we’ll see ’bout it.’ ‘No, Si,’ + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>says he, ‘I won’t make a wager like that.’ ‘Oh, sir,’ + says I, ’y’ ain’t got no sportin’ blood in you. Come + on, now, wager ten cents aginst my ten dollars! + We’ll see who’s right this time!’ + </p> + + <p>“‘Now, Si,’ says he, ‘y’ must know where th’ + schooner is, t’ make a wager like that. Otherwise + ye’d niver put up ten dollars aginst ten cents.’ ‘Oh, + go on, sir, wager with me!’ says I. ‘Well, Si, but + you must know something t’ make a wager like that.’ + Well, I coaxed, ’n’ I coaxed, ’n’ I coaxed, but fer the + life of me I couldn’t make him put up ten cents. Then + says I: ‘Sir, y’ ain’t got no sportin’ blood in you, ’n’ + I’m goin’ t’ tell you what I know. You go up halfway + in th’ mizzen riggin’, ’n’ you’ll see the <i>Edward Coles</i> + astern of us.’ Well, the skipper banged his fist down + on th’ cabin table, ’n’ jumped up ’n’ ran on deck. He + went right up halfway into the mizzen rigging, ’n’ + then he slapped his leg ’n’ hollers out: ‘By Godfrey + almighty, there’s the <i>Edward Coles</i>! You’re right, + Si, there she be.’ How’d I know? Well, o’ course + I’d a been up in the mizzen riggin’ early that + mornin’, ’n’ I seen her astern of us.</p> + + <p>“Well, we won that race by a good long shot, + I’ll say, now!”</p> + + <p>And then I saw the apron strings dangling, as + the old man walked sedately back into the galley with + his basket of dishes, leaving us alone in the cold, + wet fog.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Ghostly Weather</span></p> + + <p>The fog swept about the little ship all night. + The first thing I saw when I thrust myself out of the + cabin was Richardson, at the helm. He was bunched + up in a massive overcoat, and his shoulders were + shrugged up the way they always were in cold + weather. He was dripping wet, and standing in the + center of a cloud of fog, which swept around him + menacingly, like the white, floating shroud of a + ghost. However, it was not so thick, and the sun + made on it a kind of shimmering rainbow, which the + crew called a “fog eater.” It was very mysterious + and lovely to see that path of faint iridescence, glimmering + in a ghostly way through the monotonous + whiteness. There was no more wind than the day before, + perhaps not even so much, and I think there + was more of a roll than I had known on any of the + previous days. I had a great deal of fun practising + walking about on the decks. If there had been much + more of a roll, the crew said, she would have been + rolling water on her decks. As it was, I saw none + of that.</p> + + <p>Of course the sails, the booms, the rigging, the + tackle were all making their infernal racket—a + racket which wears on your sense even more than + the silence of the fog. Here the mate gave me a very + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>quaint descriptive sentence. Said he: “I hate to sit + here and listen to her flap her wings and shake her + feathers.” How like flapping wings and shaking + feathers it sounded! + </p> + + <p>We went in pretty close to some land or other, + but as the captain had not yet got his bearings, we + didn’t know what it was. We had an idea that we + were somewhere near the mouth of the Lahave + River, where we wanted to go. There was nothing + much to be done except drive on until the weather + cleared off. The captain said that there was no + earthly use in trying to keep a-going without any + wind. “We’ve got t’ have a breeze t’ sail, ’n’ that’s + all there is to it.” So he decided to drop anchor, + before we should be carried ashore by our leeway. + “Get down the outer jib, boys!” he bellowed out, + “flyin’ jib, ’n’ jib!” Then the mate, on the fo’c’sle + deck: “Get down the outer jib, sir!” Then the + bo’s’n, from the jib halyards: “Get down the outer + jib, sir!” in his usual mocking voice. But then, just + as they were about to get down the forestaysail also, + the captain’s voice rang out again: “Hold on the + forestaysail a minute!” And the mate: “Hold on + the forestaysail a minute, sir!” And the bo’s’n: + “Hold on the forestaysail a minute, sir!” The + captain had noticed a tiny breath of air rising, and + now he commanded the jibs to be hauled up again. + Once more we set sail—or set jibs, rather—and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span> + started off. We were going a little bit faster, but + still the schooner was flapping her wings and shaking + her feathers. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Lost Bearings</span></p> + + <p>I went forrard to have a small talk with the + mate. “Quite a little trouble to no purpose, wasn’t + it?” said I.</p> + + <p>“Well, ’s long ’s it pleases him, all right,” replied + Mate Bill.</p> + + <p>“Well, mate, are we still off Cape Sable?” + (This was a great joke among the crew, because of + waking up so many mornings in succession to be told + that we were off Cape Sable.)</p> + + <p>“Hanged if <em>I</em> know where we are! The old + man doesn’t know, neither, ’n’ we can’t find out ’ntil + this pesky fog clears away. But I wish th’ skipper + would get some sense in ’s head ’n’ let us stay at anchor, + afore we gets into any worse scrape ’n this. + We’ll be aground, next.”</p> + + <p>Indeed, the old man did appear to be extremely + nervous. “If there’s anything I hate, it’s these June + mulls!” he would say, over and over. He always appeared + to be shivering and shaking, and he had acquired + a terrific cold in his head. When he came + down for meals, I noticed that he could barely eat + and drink, his hands were quivering and shaking so. + Yes, the old man was certainly alarmed over something—over + losing his bearings, and being shut in + by fog. But he didn’t anchor. While there was a + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>breath of air stirring, he kept the schooner to her + course, and we went sailing very, very slowly up the + coast of Nova Scotia. + </p> + + <p>About the only happening that afternoon that + was in the least piratical occurred when I went forward + to have a chin with the crew, and found no one + there. The galley and the fo’c’sle were both quite + deserted. The captain strode by once as I was talking + to Bob at the wheel, and said: “Don’t talk to the + helmsman, Barbara—it distracts him.” So I hadn’t + talked again with anyone at the wheel. Yes, the + helmsman was at his trick, the lookout was at the foghorn, + and—there was no one else in evidence. How + strange! I went exploring. I happened to look into + the engine-room—and, lo! there they all were. The + cook was there, leaning against the wall with one + elbow, the other hand on his hip, his legs crossed, + looking very important. The mate was there, and his + dark, piratical eyes were full of the light of mutiny. + The bo’s’n was there, with his customary careless, + fresh look. Irish Bill was there, and his rather wicked + Irish eyes were gleaming. <em>What were they doing?</em> + I asked myself.</p> + + <p>“What’s going on?” said I. “You look as + mischievous as though you were concocting a mutiny. + <em>Are</em> you?” + </p> + + <p>“Oh, we’re just talkin’,” explained Bill.</p> + + <p>“’N’ plannin’ some deviltry,” said the cook.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Brewings of Mutiny</span></p> + + <p>“I see,” said I.</p> + + <p>I really had an idea that they weren’t so innocent + as they pretended. They probably wouldn’t + have let me into their secrets anyhow. But I knew + the man to go to—a special friend of the cook’s, to + whom the cook confided everything in fullest detail: + my shipmate.</p> + + <p>From him I discovered startling things. I didn’t + inquire too closely, but I imagine they came from + the cook. It seems that the crew had gathered in + the engine-room for the purpose of a conference on + writing a <em>letter of complaint against Captain Avery</em>. + They were agreeing to stand by each other in this + mutiny like brothers—<em>and to sign their names to + this letter</em>! I’d wager all the pirate treasure ever + buried that it was the cook who suggested it.</p> + + <p>“I guess the cook would sign <em>his</em> name, all + right!” said I.</p> + + <p>“Oh, he’d sign his name all over the letter,” + said my shipmate.</p> + + <p>That set me thinking, I tell you. I really wished + that the cook or Mate Bill would confide in me + enough to tell me the story. But evidently they would + go up to a certain point with me, such as jesting + about the old man, but not far enough to reveal to + me such deep and dangerous secrets. They didn’t + need to worry: for the world I wouldn’t have betrayed + them!</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>As usual, we turned in early. That night I was + so unfortunate as to sleep soundly through a happening + which I was very sorry to miss. Perhaps it + was owing to the fact that Mate Bill had been having + a long conference with the two of us that night. + We had been sitting on the after hatchway, all in + a row, and Mate Bill was showing us how to tie + different knots. I really believe there isn’t a knot in + the world that he couldn’t tie. He went on and on, + showing us more and more complicated ones, even + splicing. Every now and then he would say assuringly: + “There! now you’ll know how to tie that + when you go home.” But I confess that I was so + dazzled with the multitude of twists and turns that + I couldn’t remember any of them until, later, I looked + them all up in my dictionary. Perhaps it was with all + these knots dancing in my head that I went to sleep + so early and slept so soundly. Or perhaps it was because + my hard, uncomfortable bunk was very snug + and warm compared with the sea and the fog.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Professors of Knots</span></p> + + <p>Or perhaps it was the delight of a certain thing + which happened just before we turned in. It was + this way: At first, during this knot-tying lesson, Mate + Bill and I had been sitting there alone, but presently + my shipmate emerged from the cabin doorway and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> + joined us. Then the bo’s’n, too, came strolling along + from the direction of the fo’c’sle and began to contend + against Mate Bill, wagering that Bill couldn’t + tie this knot or that, and Bill wagering that he + could. Bob was very clever, too. Bill’s challenging + assertion that he couldn’t braid nine strands he answered + by promptly selecting the nine from a pile of + old frayed rope, tying them to a backstay, and braiding + them up. We had quite a little joke about the + common square knot. After Bill had asked me many + times if I could tie this, or if I could tie that, I replied + by saying that the only good knot I could tie + was the square knot. But Bob spoke up sneeringly + and said that I couldn’t tie a square knot. I said + that I could, and was just about to select a strand + and tie it, when Bill interposed and said: “Oh! I + know what you mean, Bob. Your square knot ain’t + no good. ’Tain’t a reg’lar square knot.” + </p> + + <p>“Bet you can’t tie it,” said Bob.</p> + + <p>“Well, what good is it when you have it tied?”</p> + + <p>Bob now went to work and invented a very + pretty, but useless, knot which, as Bill said, was the + start for a square braid. But, after all, I was really + right, and I had Bill to back me, and I selected my + strand and tied my square knot. Bill took it and examined + it very carefully; then he said that it was all + right, and passed it on to Bob. Bob, too, looked at + it, said in his turn that it was all right, and tossed it + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>back to me. I doubt if there was ever such a fuss + over a simple square knot. + </p> + + <p>As I said before, my shipmate had now come + out from the warm depths of the cabin; and he was + watching all this, standing over us on the poop deck. + Now he called me, saying: “Come up here a minute, + and see what you see!” And he went down and took + my place beside Mate Bill. I looked down at the two + of them; and truly it was a marvellous sight. It had + now grown almost pitch dark, and I could just see + the silhouettes of two forms, sitting there, their + heads together, very still—still except for Mate + Bill’s fingers, which were busily at work in the + tangles of some new knot. Behind them was the pile + of old rope, like sacks of spoil in a heap—and they + looked, those hunched figures, like two whispering + spooks, sitting out there in the rain, “plannin’ deviltry,” + as the cook would have said, and counting over + their coins.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Squalls at Sea</span></p> + + <p>And I mustn’t forget a rather piratical incident + which happened just before we turned in. We had + gone below, and were sitting together, talking about + June mulls, when suddenly Mate Bill came down and + went in to his bunk. It had started raining, and it + was very dark. He had come down, in his wet-weather + costume, to get a lantern. I didn’t see him + when he came down, but as soon as he had gone in to + his bunk my shipmate nudged my arm and said in a + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span> + whisper: “Watch the mate, now, when he comes + out with the lantern. See if he doesn’t look piratical!” + I kept an eye on the small room of the mate, + and presently we saw him come out, in his oilskins, + sou’wester, and sea boots, all dripping wet, and + lighted uncannily by the light of the lantern. Piratical! + Never, in all the time before, had I seen him + look so much so. He nodded good-night and clomped + up the steps again, in his heavy boots. + </p> + + <p>Perhaps, as I said, all this had made my mind + swirl with tangles of ropes and imaginings of pirates. + Whatever the cause, I slept through the worst racket + of the whole trip. The rest is hearsay—what I was + told the next morning by the crew and my shipmate, + who were amazed that I hadn’t waked up.</p> + + <p>The mate had told me on several occasions that + in the month of June we were likely to have + “squalls.” At first I had got the idea that squalls + were simply the cat’s-paws which we see on inland + lakes, only more violent. Later I decided, from what + Bill said, that it only meant wind coming in spurts + and then dying down. But at last I understood that + squalls were raging thunderstorms which pass over + the sea quickly, quickly, and are gone. Bill told me of + several times, during his sailor career, when they had + seen squalls coming from far off, sweeping wildly + across the sea, blackening the sky, and had barely + time to take the sails down before they were swamped + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>in it. Squalls were very dangerous, the mate said, + and whenever they were at all violent the sails + would have to come down. + </p> + + <p>Well, we had one in the middle of that night. + There were thunder, lightning, rain by the bucketful, + and much stronger wind than any we had had. They + described how the whole crew—even the cook, + roused up out of his bunk—had scurried back and + forth right over my head, to get down the sails at + full speed. They wondered how on earth I could + possibly have slept through that, let alone the howling + of the wind, the rolling of the thunder, the brilliance + of the lightning, and the tossing and plunging + of the schooner. They crowned it by describing how + the spanker gaff had been let down, one man at the + peak halyards, the other at the throat halyards, and + how the gaff had been let go in the tumult and come + rattling down with a terrific crash on the deck house + right over me. The old man, at this little mishap, + had jumped with terror, and shrieked out a curse + in so loud a voice that they wondered why that alone + hadn’t waked me.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Blue and Gold</span></p> + + <p>The cook, of course, had his little word on this + episode. He took me aside to the galley and told me + in scornful terms how the old man had got excited + and hectic, after his custom, and what a ridiculous + crew we had, who didn’t know how to do anything + right, and did nothing but rush frantically around + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span> + from here to there and back again, and how such + foolishness wouldn’t have been allowed in <em>his</em> day, + when sailors were sailors, not landlubbers! Also, + I was told how Bob, who, during all this, had been + at the foghorn, had seen a good-sized steamer near + by, and, very much afraid of running into her, had + blown the foghorn so long, loud, and furiously that + at length Mate Bill had to go forward and stop + him. We had evidently been on the starboard tack, + because Bob had intended to blow the horn once; + but he had made it one such prodigiously long blast + (the Mate said he must have blown it for a full ten + minutes) that Bill was afraid the steamer wouldn’t + understand what on earth we <em>were</em> trying to do. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>When I first went on deck the next morning, + I had a suspicion that all this might be a joke, or, at + least, greatly exaggerated. But when I saw how every + last wisp of the fog had blown away, leaving the air + crystal clear, though still almost calm, I knew that + it must have taken some violence to banish it all so + quickly and completely. What a heavenly blue the + sky was! It was one of those deep, quivering blues + which I have so often seen at Sunapee. The sails + shone sparklingly white, instead of their usual gray; + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span>the trucks of the masts were shining and clear-cut + against that sky. We were quite near the shore, sailing + before a steady breeze—just enough to keep + the sails rounded, and to make the schooner yield + and cant a little, yet not enough to make more than + a delicate dash of foam along our sides. + </p> + + <p>During the whole trip I had not seen a lovelier + shore. Even the shore of New Haven as we had + left it on that memorable first day, with West Rock + jutting up strangely; and the long green line of + Martha’s Vineyard as we had passed it; and the + coast line of Rhode Island, on the afternoon of the + first day—none of these was nearly so lovely as + what now confronted us. It was a shore of low green + hills, brighter than emerald in the sunlight and + against the sky. They were high hills, yet with so + gradual a slope that they presented an aspect of + luxuriance and verdure, like a very mossy forest. + Somber shadows were constantly passing over them + like dark ghosts, reminding me of how the valleys + had looked down at the foot of Moosilauke, with + the shadows of slowly moving clouds on the radiance + of the autumn trees. My first real glimpse of Nova + Scotia! A beautiful land.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Gibes at the Lubber</span></p> + + <p>But the captain was no better off as to his bearings. + He was sailing on with a rather doubtful air, + looking again and again at his charts. It was the + cook’s opinion that he had passed Lahave River and + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span> + was now on his way up to Lunenberg; but he added: + “’Tain’t up t’ me t’ say anything.” All of us were + much relieved to find the fog cleared away, and everyone + was much happier. Richardson, however, incurred + two gibes that day from the mate. He had + been set to work scrubbing off the deckhouse, while + Mate Bill and I sat together discussing knots and + watching him. Richardson, as was his custom, was doing + the job very feebly and slowly, as though bored + to death with it. At last the mate raised his head and + said, with that wicked twinkle in his black eyes that I + have described so many times: “Oh, hurry up, Dick, + do! You’re slower ’n an old woman with her washin’.” + Later in the day almost the same thing happened, + when Richardson was scrubbing the highest + part of the starboard fo’c’sle wall. “Don’t be all day + over it, Dick,” said the mate. “Put some elbow-grease + into it!” Whereat Richardson smiled feebly + and tried to scrub a trifle harder. + </p> + + <p>As for me, the forbidden rigging looked more + and more enticing now that the sails gleamed so + white, and I was determined to have a climb. I had, + to be sure, climbed about a little on one of the foggy + days, when it had broken for a moment on our port + bow, revealing a dark mass of land. The mate had + gone up into the rigging to see if he could identify + anything, and I had gone with him. But, though it + was impressive to have seen the land lying over + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>there like a mass of black fog, it wasn’t really fun, + and I had longed for a good day. Now, accordingly, + I went aft and asked Captain Avery if I might run + up to the crosstrees. “Oh, sure,” he replied, “go + ahead up, ’n’ hold hard.” So I started for the port + mizzen rigging. But that was our leeward side, and + the captain called me: “Don’t go up on that side, + Barbara. Allus go on the wind’ard.” + </p> + + <p>“Why, Captain?”</p> + + <p>“Well, y’ see, when the schooner” (he always + pronounced this <em>skewner</em>) “is heelin’ over to loo’ard, + the loo’ard riggin’ gets slack, ’n’ the wind’ard riggin’ + is taut all the while. ’N’ then, too, the loo’ard riggin’ + ’s much straighter, ’n’ harder t’ climb. That don’t + make no partic’lar difference to a sailor, ’coz ’f anything + lets go, he kin always stop hisself, but with a + greenhorn ’t’s different.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">’Twixt Sea and Sky</span></p> + + <p>It was quite insulting to the pride of my sailor + career to be called a greenhorn, but then, it was all + right with me whatever they called me. I went to the + starboard mizzen rigging, and up I climbed, with the + same delightful sensations which I always had. But + today there were other sensations, too. The schooner + was rolling quite a little, and I had now, in the rigging, + the same curious feelings that I had had running + about the deck in our big gale. First the rigging + seemed to slide away beneath my feet, and then it + would be there before me. All the time I held very + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span> + “hard” with my hands and went up steadily, though + somewhat more slowly than usual. The mate called + out to me to hold the shrouds, not the ratlines: because + then, if a ratline happened to let go, I should + still have something to hold to. I followed this advice, + and very carefully kept one hand upon the rigging + while I was low down, and both when I was + high enough so that the ratlines were comfortably + short and the shrouds near enough together. Still, the + sway was very puzzling, and it increased as I + mounted. I stuck to it, and when finally I sat down, + rather breathless, on the crosstrees, I felt more as + if I were on a seesaw than I have ever felt, even on + a real seesaw. The crosstrees made graceful swoops + and slow half circles through the air, and I saw the + sea beneath me, first on one side, then on the other. + It was very beautiful, but very alarming, too; and I + felt more than ever like a sailor. That breath-taking + instant when one gets from the crosstrees on to the + ratlines and hangs for a moment over the sea was + more breath-taking than ever. I thought of this, one + of the sailor chanteys in <i>Iron Men and Wooden + Ships</i>: + </p> + + <blockquote class="poetry"> + + <p> + <span>“When the foaming waves run mountains high,</span> + <br> + <span>And the landsmen cry, ‘All’s gone,’ sir,</span> + <br> + <span>The sailor hangs ’twixt sea and sky,</span> + <br> + <span>And he jokes with Davy Jones, sir!”</span> + </p> + + </blockquote> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p> + + <p class="continued">For that instant I certainly felt the danger of joking + with Davy. But the moment of peril was passed + without mishap, and, after looking again at those + beautiful hills, of which from up here I could see + much more, I came down.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Phantasmal</span></p> + + <p>Now a speck was descried by the hawk’s eyes + of the old man, on the starboard horizon (or, as he + always pronounced it, <em>orison</em> with an <i>h</i> in front). + Nearer and nearer it came, and finally it turned out + to be just what I had hoped: a sail. Eagerly we + watched, and as it skimmed slowly down along the + skyline toward us we saw that it was another lofty + four-masted schooner. But how insignificant it was + away off there, how like a child’s toy ship! We could + see her masts, like matches, and her tiny gaffs and + booms. The jibs were no more than slivers of silver + thread, pointing away into the sky like fingers of + moonlight; the topsails were four little snow-capped + peaks along the edge of the sky. But as she drew + nearer, she looked more and more like a crowned + princess of the seas. No ship could have seemed + more proud, except one of those square-riggers + which used to go flying like white clouds across the + ocean. She passed us so near on our starboard beam + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> + that she loomed almost over us, and we gazed silently + up into her sails. At almost the same time we + tacked, swung across the wind, and fell away to port. + And now she showed us her stern, and we could see + how her sails were set. They were “wing and wing” + or, as the mate used to say, “wung out”: that is, + with the spanker to starboard, mainsail to port, and + foresail and jibs hardly drawing, because of being + cut off from the wind by the other sails. Even our + own sails, when we had had them set that way, had + not seemed so much like wings. She reminded me of a + gull spreading out its wings to fly up from the water. + The very lines and curves of the sails interlaced with + each other, and the farther away she sailed, the + more like some huge sea bird she became. + </p> + + <p>The sun made a vast stretch of gold. Soon after + she had passed us, she dipped into that burning sea. + First her sails grew bright with the sunlight, and + then, as she sailed farther and farther into the heart + of the blaze, they melted away into the sun. When + we looked, there seemed to be not a vestige of sail + upon her. Her handsome hull we could see perfectly, + black in the mirror of gold. Even her masts were + clearly outlined, her very crosstrees. But she was + stripped of canvas; the sun had stolen it. She was no + more than a skeleton, a weird phantom ship.</p> + + <p>As we watched, we saw her draw out of that enchanted + part of the sea. Slowly she became real + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>again; slowly her sails appeared. First they were + bright gold with reflected light, then only flushed + with it; and then they were snowy once more. By this + time she was tiny in the distance. At last she disappeared—into + Lunenberg, the skipper thought. + </p> + + <p>This was the most perfect weather of the whole + trip. The alluring hills grew brighter as the sun + mounted, until they were like precious jewels in a + setting of incredibly blue sky. The sea sparkled with + the sun, and it, too, was bluer than on any day before. + Again I was dazzled by the hugeness and the + wideness of the sun-path here on the sea. The brilliant + splotch of gold seems to spread out boundlessly. + It is much brighter, too, than I have ever seen + it on an inland lake, as though each tiny salt-crystal + were reflecting the rays a thousand times. Millions, + millions of sparks, leaping up from that blueness, + breaking into showers of fire!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Nearing the Lahave</span></p> + + <p>Where the sky was clear, it was a very deep + blue. There were banks of massive white clouds on + the horizon, although the zenith was entirely free + of them. These cast down deep shadows which cooled + the green fire of the hills here and there, gliding over + them slowly. We were running nearer and nearer + now. The skipper had located us and determined + where Lahave was. We had passed it, as the cook + had said, and were wheeling about to find it; running + back the way we had come, but much nearer + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span> + to the coast than before, so that it seemed different, + and much more beautiful. All the time, though we + were running down the coast, we were drawing closer + and closer to it, and the hills looked more and more + verdurous. What a contrast to the vacancy of boundless + ocean which we had had before us a few days + back! + </p> + + <p>There seemed to be a great many small fishermen + hereabout. We didn’t actually pass any close, + but we counted seven or eight off on the horizon. + We would be looking at one sail, a tiny peak fretting + the skyline, when someone would catch sight of another. + But they were all so far away and so hard to + see that our eyes went crazy after a while, so that + all we could see was miniature sails.</p> + + <p>There was hardly time for staring at them, for + we were now nearing Lahave. We could see a deep, + narrow indentation in the shore line, bounded on each + side by hills sloping down into the sea—no more + than two arms of green land, clasping the bay within. + It looked like a very narrow opening for a schooner + of our size to sail through, and I wondered what + could be done, supposing there were an adverse wind. + I climbed up in the rigging two or three times more + before we reached the opening, feeling extremely + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>glad, deep down, to have retrieved that privilege. + The hills and the stretch of blue harbor within + looked, of course, lovelier than ever from so high, + and I stayed up at the crosstrees, watching our + progress toward it, for quite a long time. Although + we seemed to be so near, we were as yet easily two + miles away, the mate said. Suddenly we heard the + booming of surf on a small rock-bound islet to the + starboard of the entrance. We could see the great + white crests rise up and up, toweringly, like foam-castles, + then dash furiously up the bar a way, then + subside into themselves with a crash and a dull roar. + And all this two miles away! + </p> + + <p>The mate and I fell to talking. We leaned over + the starboard bulwarks watching the surf, and talked + mainly about swimming. The mate said: “Well, + kin you swim, Barbara?”</p> + + <p>“Oh yes, mate,” said I, “I swim a lot. I believe + I could swim from here over to that island.”</p> + + <p>“Two miles?” He looked at me incredulously.</p> + + <p>“Well, perhaps not quite,” I yielded. “But + almost. How are you on swimming?”</p> + + <p>“I can’t swim a stroke,” said Bill. “Y’ see, I + hain’t never had no chance.”</p> + + <p>“But it strikes me,” said I, “that anyone who’s + a sailor <em>ought</em> to be able to.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Another Professor of Knots</span></p> + + <p>“Well, ye’re right, I reckon,” said he. “But + I never been shipwrecked yit. ’N’ I’m goin’ t’ resign + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> + afore long, too!” And his eyes sparkled, as + usual, at his joke. + </p> + + <p>He began telling about his working abilities. + “You know, I do twice as much work ’s any other + man aboard here. They all act ’s though they was + skeered to death t’ get their hands dirty. Why, ’f + I didn’t work with ’em—’f I didn’t sooge the deck + ’n’ paint the bulwarks—there’d not be a stroke o’ + work done here. There’s a thousand little jobs that + no one’ll ever do ’ceptin’ myself. Remember that + day when you come down t’ the schooner ’n’ I was + sewin’ that outer jib? Well, the boys got the afternoon + off, and I could ’ave, too, if I’d ast; but w’at + did I do? I stayed aboard, like a blinkin’ fool, and + worked all afternoon on that jib. Well, ’t would + have never got done ’f I hadn’t done it.”</p> + + <p>Evidently the mate’s head was still running + strong on knots, for, after a little, he got himself a + strand of rope, and fell to tying it up in all the ways + he could think of. I asked him how Richardson was + at tying knots. Bill replied about as I expected: “Oh, + Dick! he can’t tie two half-hitches and git ’em right.”</p> + + <p>I was eager to show him <em>something</em> about string + that he didn’t know, but I felt that this was impossible. + At last I had an idea: “Do you know cat’s-cradle, + mate?” “Cat’s-cradle? No.” I ran down + into the cabin and hunted up a bit of string. For + as much as a half-hour we were taking it off each + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span>other’s hands. I succeeded in amusing the mate by + it; and to me it seemed a more interesting game + than ever before. It is perfect to play on shipboard, + between watches. + </p> + + <p>Then we fell to talking about boats—small + ones, such as canoes and rowboats. Said he: “Well, + I tell you, I niver was very strong on canoes. I’m + skeered of ’em. Too tipsy for me! I tell you, I + wouldn’t go out in one in rough weather ’f you + paid me.” And I told him what fun Daddy and I + used to have on Sunapee and Ossipee, battling in + the white canoe the strongest gales that came.</p> + + <p>“But, of course,” said I, “there you never + have any weather that’s dangerous. You never have + weather anything like what we had a few days ago.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Jewelled Seascape</span></p> + + <p>The talk somewhat broke up as we neared the + harbor. Mate Bill had never been to Bridgewater, + and it struck him, no less than me, as very lovely + country. The bright green of the hills rose up, dominating + everything, and reaching down those two + almost human arms to clasp the blue waters of the + bay. I shall never, never forget the loveliness of the + entrance to that river as we came directly outside + it and began to swing in. The breeze seemed to reach + quite a distance up into the bay, and we sailed easily + before it, the sails full and steady. At every inch of + our progress the landscape changed. Now we would + look up the river, where it disappeared around a + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span> + bend; then back out at the sea, where there seemed + to be two horizons—first the edge of our own bay, + clasped with those hill-arms, then the horizon of the + sea itself, stretching away outside, blue and boundless. + </p> + + <p>Perhaps you have seen pictures of the Mediterranean + Sea, or of harbors in Italy, and wondered at + the incredible greenness of the hills, the blueness of + the water. Here it was the same: the hills were so + gorgeously bright, and shone in such crystal contrast + to the brilliant sea and bay, that you just + couldn’t believe it was real. Such color could not + exist! Green and blue flames, mingling together, yet + sharply outlined and distinguished. Those hills were + like an emerald crown for the sea. At one place + where we looked back at the sea which we were + leaving so fast, that boundless mass of color shone + bravely between two islands—small islands, just + out at the edge of the bay. Being shadowed by higher + hills, they looked dark, almost as though spruce-forested. + In contrast, that glowing stretch of sea + looked brighter, bluer, than ever.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>There was quite a breeze in here; there were + even whitecaps glistening now and then. The skipper + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>was in high hopes that the breeze would reach clear + up the river to the anchoring ground, so that we + shouldn’t have to be towed. He wanted to progress + as far up the river that night as possible. But when + we hailed some men who were working on an anchored + three-master, they said that the wind didn’t + reach up far, and that the tide was running out + “agin” us. The skipper decided to stick to it as + long as he could. I went up in the rigging again. + I looked down upon a sea of billowing green hills, + inset with the sapphires of the various pools which + formed parts of the great bay; also, upon more wind + and waves than I had realized there were. Then + I saw a little power boat, looking like no more than a + very large canoe with an engine and a great dark + red sail, scudding rapidly out toward us. The man + who was running it hailed the skipper, who had been + looking down over the starboard bulwarks, ever and + again taking the wheel himself. “Want a pilot up the + river?” “No, I guess not,” shouted our skipper in + return. As for me, I felt more than ever elated in my + high station on the crosstrees, especially since I was + looking down over nothing but beautiful country. + The little power boat with its dark red sail looked + so much like a child’s toy from up there that I + couldn’t resist waving to the man in its stern. But + either he didn’t see me or else he had his hands full + running the boat, for I got no return. + </p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Cap’n and Cap</span></p> + + <p>A little farther on a small launch sped up to + our side and asked the same question, promptly receiving + the same answer from the captain. But still + farther on, when the hills and small emerald islands + began to cut off the wind, and the sails began to flap, + and we found that the tide was sweeping us down, + the captain replied differently to the skipper of a + tug who shouted over “Want a tug up?” “Yes, + sure!”</p> + + <p>The tug came close to the side of the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i> The skipper, a very curious-looking Dutchman, + leaped aboard and shook Captain Avery warmly + by the hand, after first looking him over incredulously + from head to heel. “Why! If this ain’t Cap’n + Avery!” said he.</p> + + <p>“True for you,” said our skipper. “Glad I am + t’ see you, Joe.”</p> + + <p>“’T’s a bully long time since you’ve been up + Bridgewater way—eh, Cap?”</p> + + <p>“Hey‑y‑y‑y‑y?”</p> + + <p>“You hain’t been up this way fer a long time, + Cap!”</p> + + <p>“No, I haven’t.”</p> + + <p>And the like friendly remarks went on monotonously, + with extreme cheerfulness, for a long + time. Nothing I could ever say would adequately + describe the Dutchman. He was a huge, broad-shouldered + man with a huge face and small, glistening + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span>blue eyes. He looked wild, but nevertheless + kindly. He had a crazy manner of friendliness and + nonchalance, and he swanked about the schooner as + if he were her captain. I felt that he was extremely + amiable at heart, and I was very much interested + and amused by him. Incidentally, he was a lively and + vigorous tobacco-chewer. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Excitement for Dick</span></p> + + <p>And now Richardson was to have his moment + of excitement. It was this way: The towrope was + attached to the tug, and Richardson was called aft + by “Here, boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” to make + it fast around our two starboard mooring-posts. If + he had been wise, he would have let someone else + answer that call. He did it, as I thought, quite briskly + and cleverly, winding the rope in a figure-of-eight + formation around the two posts. But the Dutchman, + who had leaped briskly back into the tug to superintend + things in his swaggering way there, decided + that it wasn’t short enough, and he bellowed back + his opinion to Captain Avery. “Take up the slack!” + whooped Captain Avery. But this was not such an + easy matter for Richardson. To begin with, all those + fancy figure-of-eight loops which he had cast around + the mooring-posts had to be untangled. He didn’t + seem to have a very successful time of it getting them + off. I must here remark that, whenever anything was + found carelessly done, it was always Richardson + who was to blame. For instance, one morning when + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> + we had tacked, the bo’s’n had sprung to the main + sheet where it was belayed. If there had been any + wind, Richardson’s belaying (for, presumably, it + <em>was</em> Richardson’s) wouldn’t have lasted long. It was + very loosely tangled around the pin. In a flash the + bo’s’n had exclaimed: “That looks like Richardson’s + work! He must ’a’ done that.” Yes, Richardson + did betray a kind of mixed-up sloppiness in his work. + He had just got the figures-of-eight off the mooring-posts + and begun to haul up the slack in the towrope, + when Captain Avery, irritated beyond endurance by + his slowness, thundered out: “Hurry up there, Richardson! + Hurry up! Hurry! Quick! Quick! Blast you, + Richardson! Quick!” in such an appalling voice that + Richardson worked desperately, getting in the slack. + I never saw a man cast figures-of-eight with such + rapidity, and he did not stop until there was enough + rope on the posts to have held the entire Presidential + Range a mile above ground. Then he went forward, + the skipper glowering at him. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Now the captain of the tug had come aboard + again, along with one of the tug’s crew—a wild, + glaring-eyed youth, slender as a nail and very dark. + The two skippers began talking in a very friendly + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>way, calling each other—apparently after the + Dutch or Nova Scotian fashion—“Cap.” The + glaring youth hung around for a while, but, finding + that the two had nothing in particular to communicate + to him, he returned, after one inquisitive glance, + to his work aboard the tug. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">In the Harbor</span></p> + + <p>We were now gliding smoothly and rather + briskly up into the harbor. The river widened out + gradually, with ever and again beautiful glimpses + back at the emerald islets and the sea, or up ahead + into the hills, down among which the water flowed, + looking bright sapphire blue. After what seemed a + very short time, the tug left us in the loveliest landlocked + harbor imaginable. The green hills dipped + away in a wide sweep and circle to right and left, + clasping the blue bay, whose waters seemed to murmur + with the rush of the tide. On each side, and lying + down beneath the hills, were towns, very small and + elfin from this distance. The masses of close-set white + and gray houses, with now and then a large red barn + looming in the greenness of fields and hills, completed + one’s idea of a landlocked Italian harbor. + The fields were bright sunny green, by contrast with + the more vivid emerald of the hills. Two small islands + over on the west side of the bay looked mysterious + and uninhabited, as though they sheltered pirate + treasure. One of them seemed to have a fairly good + landing-beach on our side of it; but this beach, though + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> + smooth and gradual, appeared to be covered with + some mysterious dark substance which I could by + no means understand. + </p> + + <p>We were far from being the only schooner + there. Indeed, it seemed like quite a busy little country + seaport. A small three-master was lying close in + at one of the wharves belonging to the western + town; a shapely little schooner with a black hull. + Others lay scattered at anchor around the edges of + the harbor—some of them being used, and others + (among them a dismantled two-master, one of whose + topmasts was gone) in a disused state. The <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i> was, however, by far the largest and loveliest of + the schooners there, and we entered that enchanted + circle of water feeling as proud and lovely as a + white-robed queen. The tug left us near the middle + of the bay, but slightly nearer the western edge. + Down went our mudhook, with a magical and melancholy + splash.</p> + + <p>Here I must confess a great weakness of mine, + in a moment of which I submitted ingloriously to + human nature. I felt, in the presence of the queer, + domineering Dutch skipper, as if I should rather + like to show that I wasn’t an “ornery street gal,” + and that I had some small ability as a sailor. I began + to be just as helpful as I could possibly manage. + I bustled and ran around after Mate Bill, who was + getting the sail-stops out. He got those coils of rope, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span>each about ten feet long, out of one of the small after + hatchways, and each of us took an armful and went + forward, distributing them. He would leave a certain + number by the spanker boom, ready for use, and + then another bundle by the mainsail boom; the first + bundle went to the foresail. The sails were still up, + having been left in order to help our progress up the + river; and the mate simply tossed the sail-stops over + the boom so that they lay across it, each end trailing + on the deck, ready to receive the sails when they + should be let down. Together we fitted out the foresail + and mainsail booms; then the mate, having + something else to do, left me to finish the spanker. + I did so, at least as far as I could reach, and then he + came aft and placed the stops across the overhanging + end. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Bill’s Morals</span></p> + + <p>All the time the mate was talking in earnest, + agitated tones about the skipper of the tug. He certainly + was a character worth some small consideration. + The mate didn’t approve of him at all. He + struck Bill as a snob, somehow, much too proud to + talk to a common sailor; indeed, he hadn’t said a + word to the mate in all the time he was on the + schooner. And, as Richard <abbr>H.</abbr> Dana, <abbr title="Junior">Jr.</abbr>, says: + “When the voyage is at an end, you do as you + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span> + please; but so long as you belong to the same vessel, + you must be a shipmate to him on shore, or he will + not be a shipmate to you on board.” And Bill had a + delicate streak of sensitiveness. + </p> + + <p>The mate thought that the skipper of the tug + was very vulgar because he chewed tobacco so much + and so heartily—he thought the same, as a matter + of fact, about Captain Avery himself—and he went + on somewhat in this way:</p> + + <p>“Now, here’s how it is with me. I don’t approve + o’ such things ’s chewin’ tobacker, drinkin’, ’n’ so on. + I don’t approve of ’em, ’n’ I never can. I used t’ + chew a little when I was a young lad and first went t’ + sea, ’cause I didn’t know better. But I give it up + afore long. ’N’ as fer smokin’—well, I smoke a + cigarette now and then, but not as a stiddy thing. + ’n’ drinkin’? Well, I’m not a boasting man, but I’ll + tell you that I was never drunk once in all my life. + Now, that’s a pretty good record fer a man that’s + lived as rough as I have, and been t’ sea fifteen year. + And I’ve never, in all my born days, bought more + than one bottle o’ whisky.</p> + + <p>“But Bob, m’ brother, him’d get drunk ivery + day if he had th’ chance. As it is, he gets drunk every + time he goes ashore. I talk and talk and argue ’bout + it with him, but it never does no good. Y’ can’t drum + any reason into that lad. He beats all!”</p> + + <p>So we talked together—or, at least, I listened + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>and the mate talked—until we dropped anchor in + the midst of that peaceful bay. It was now getting + toward sunset, and the old man wanted to go ashore + to the little sleeping town in order to telephone for + a tug to pull us up to Bridgewater in the morning. + The mate lowered a small, light flat-bottomed skiff + which had been hoisted just beneath the larger dory + on the davits, and concealed by it. (In fact, I had + not noticed it before.) It was lowered, brought + around to the port side of the schooner, and tied + just beneath the taffrail. Then a stout ladder was + brought, put down the side of the ship, and made + fast. I was eager to watch the skipper descend this + vertical ladder, as well as to see him try to row the + little skiff. The cook, probably eager to see him make + a miscue and get a wetting, came sedately out of the + galley and stood watching wickedly. + </p> + + <p>“Are you going alone, sir?” queried the mate.</p> + + <p>“Yes, I gesso, Bill.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Skipper’s Misstep</span></p> + + <p>Secretly I had hopes of being allowed to accompany + him, not having had my feet off the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i> for ten days; but the captain said nothing + about it, and I said nothing. The moment of excitement + was arriving. I imagine that the whole crew + craned their necks from wherever they were, to see + the old man fall into the waters of the Lahave River. + The cook now had an I-wish-to-heaven-you’d-get-drowned + look on his face. The captain asked the mate + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> + if the oarlocks were all right, and the mate descended + himself, to see. They were, and the oars were + put into place. Everything was in readiness. Then + down went the captain, grasping the rungs desperately + with his horny, trembling old hands. It looked + as if everything were going all right. The mate held + the painter of the skiff, ready to cast off as soon as + the old man was ready, and he was holding the boat + cleverly just beneath the ladder. But the skipper + had not reckoned on the small, almost invisible + heaves which are constantly taking place in the + mouth of that river, where the water is influenced + both by the tide and by the current of the river itself. + Just as he was about to step into the boat, one of + those smooth waves came along, sweeping the boat + from beneath his feet. “Look out fer that swell, + sir!” shouted the mate. The old man paid not the + slightest heed, but went right on, stepping off into + the boat just as that wave occurred. It disturbed his + balance: and he staggered, then sprawled down into + the boat just as one leg trailed in the water up to the + knee. Then he regained himself, got at the oars, + caught the painter as the mate threw it down, and + pushed off. + </p> + + <p>He was used to rowing, all right, but the tide + and the current bothered him considerably. He was + swept downstream so fast that he had to head much + farther upstream than he wanted to. At last he + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>landed on a sort of beach. The mate made the remark, + when he started, that he was “weaker ’n a + cat.” + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>So odd a thing now took place among the crew + that I was glad I had stayed aboard. The sails had + been lowered and snugly furled, and now the crew + seemed to think that there was nothing under the sun + to do. They all came aft in a body, including the + cook, and stood around on the poop deck, sitting on + the deckhouse, chinning and making merry. The + audacity of it was very amusing. When the old skipper + was aboard no one ever came aft except when + called, or to take his trick at the helm. But now all + rules were off, and they seemed to take a defiant + pleasure in being where they weren’t supposed to be. + Their talk ran mainly on the skipper, and they said + some tremendously insulting things. The cook, + through it all, pretended great authority, standing + there in a way which made me think he was trying + very hard to look dignified, and nodding his head + grimly every now and then.</p> + + <p>“I wisht he had fallen in—really,” said the + bo’s’n, in a mournful voice.</p> + + <p>“We’d ’a’ been well rid o’ that rascal,” said + the cook.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">On Forbidden Ground</span></p> + + <p>“’N’ say, Bob, didja see that guy from the + tug?” said Roy. “So that’s the kind o’ friends the + old man has, is it?”</p> + + <p>“He’d ’a’ won the champeenship of spitting,” + stated Bob.</p> + + <p>“I told you,” interposed the cook, “he’s known + all over Nova Scotia fer his low-down rascality.”</p> + + <p>“’N’ fer interferin’ in <em>your</em> business, I suppose.”</p> + + <p>“Interferin’ ’s no word fer it. Say, you know—” + And then came, for the hundredth time, the + tale of how the Chinese cook had chased Captain + Avery ashore with a drawn cutlass when he had + come forward to see the galley. This sort of talk + went on for a long time, with the cook interposing + now and then to call Captain Avery “cussed old + wretch,” and “p’ison divil,” and so on, at a great + rate; and with the mate standing by the taffrail, + looking wicked and piratical, with that suppressed + smile in his face and that black twinkle in his eyes. + The bo’s’n, too, was “full of it” that evening, and + every now and then one of his mocking calls would + ring out over the waters of the Lahave, much louder + and bolder than ever before.</p> + + <p>Presently the mate and I drew more or less + apart from the others. “Say, Barbara,” said Bill, + “how’d you like a row in that little skiff when the + old man comes back, if ’t ain’t too late?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span></p> + + <p>“Oh, that would be splendid.”</p> + + <p>“Kin you row?”</p> + + <p>“Try me and see!”</p> + + <p>“Well, you can row, then, and, if ’t ain’t too + dark, we’ll go out.”</p> + + <p>“All right. But say, mate, are the boys going + ashore tonight?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, I reckon they are, if they can get the + chance. We’ll give ’em the skiff when we get back.”</p> + + <p>“Are you going ashore?”</p> + + <p>“No, I reckon not.”</p> + + <p>By this time the sun was nearing the horizon, + spreading a gorgeous russet glow over there, and + looking like a great ball of scarlet fire. Suddenly + there was a loud hail from near where the old man + had beached the skiff. All of us thought it was he; + it sounded unmistakably like his harsh whoop. + “Here, boys! Here, boys! Here, boys!” said the + bo’s’n shrilly. “Don’t you want us to swim over + and git you?”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Skipper’s Return</span></p> + + <p>But the mate silenced him, with a mild oath, and + answered the hail with one loud “Hallo‑o‑o‑o‑o!” + Then there was a dead silence. The crew was staring. + The cook was the first one to speak: “I would be + glad if that was the old man’s death-whoop,” said + he. These words fell from the mouth of the sinister + little old man in an icy way, sounding like a death-knell + indeed. The bo’s’n was next, and he said: + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> + “What’s that? Go buy a package o’ cigarettes!” + And next the mate: “Oh, shame, to mock the poor + old fellow like that! I wouldn’t talk that way about + him for worlds; not me!” “Huh!” said the cook. + “Cap’n Avery jaws me about smokin’ a few decent + little cigarettes, ’n’ then—w’at does he do? He + goes ’n’ chaws <em>tobacker</em>!” + </p> + + <p>By this time we had all decided that it wasn’t + the captain at all, and we began talking again as + merrily as ever. The mate was looking rather stern + now, or, at least, trying to, but something in his eye + and the corners of his mouth told me that he enjoyed + the jokes of the crew. Then a little speck was + descried off through the dark, and, behold! it was + the skipper returning, rowing back in the same feeble + way. He was welcomed with quite a burst of subdued + mocks from the bo’s’n, and then the crew slunk + away forward and disappeared in a very business-like + way. Even the haughty little cook went forward + to the galley pretty fast.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>“Don’t you think it’s too late for us to go out + in the skiff?” I asked the mate. It was now almost + dark, and the glow in the west had faded to a deep + russet.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> + + <p>“Oh, there’s no reason why we can’t go out a + little,” said Bill, who was evidently quite eager about + the idea.</p> + + <p>A few moments afterward the old man had + come in close, the mate had caught the thrown + painter, and the captain had scrambled out of the + skiff and up the ladder. “Now, Barbara!” said the + mate, with a cunning wink at me. Instantly I had + started down the ladder. “Won’t you be cold with + nothing but that jumper on?”</p> + + <p>“No, I think not,” said I. I climbed down the + ladder and got successfully into the boat.</p> + + <p>“Do you want to row, Barbara?”</p> + + <p>“Surely, mate, unless you do.”</p> + + <p>“All right, then—you row.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Harbor Excursion</span></p> + + <p>He cast the painter down to me. I caught it, + holding the ladder with the other hand. Down came + the mate, and we pushed off. It gave me very delightful + sensations to come down that ladder. It + struck home upon my piratical senses that it must + be very much like the sort of ladder by which buccaneers + would board other ships. Even going down + instead of up, I had the feeling of boarding the ship + of an enemy. But my ideas changed when I felt the + oars securely in my hands, and I decided to show the + mate a little brisk rowing. Feeling quite in my own + element, I struck out. The little skiff was so much + lighter and happier than the heavy old tubs I am + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span> + accustomed to rowing that, under my tremendous + strokes, we shot along amazingly, in spite of the + powerful river current which had seemed to trouble + the old man. I can’t explain to you the delight I had + in being in a small boat again and having oars + grasped firmly in my hands. It seemed strange, too, + to see the little waves so very near me. I leaned back + with all my weight upon the oars, bringing them + down together in strong, quick rhythm. How lightly + the skiff danced on! I knew that progress at this + rate would draw comment from Bill sooner or later, + and, indeed, I didn’t have long to wait: “Say, you + sure can row good, Barbara!” + </p> + + <p>“Well, yes—I’m pretty well used to it. I’ve + rowed quite a lot before.”</p> + + <p>We agreed to go over towards the place where + the captain had landed, but farther upstream, so that + we should have a good chance to see the small three-masted + schooner which was lying close in to the + wharf there. There was quite a wind added to the + current; I felt a pleasant resistance, and heard the + whispering chuckle of waves beneath the bow. I had + been rowing some minutes very briskly, not thinking + of anything in particular, and more or less watching + the water. Suddenly the mate said: “The schooner + looks pretty from here, don’t she, Barbara?” I + raised my head and looked back. The <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> + lay there, in the midst of those unstill waters, like + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span>a dream—a thought. Ten times lovelier she seemed + than ever before. She raised her head quietly from + that small round bay, and shone, in her whiteness, + like a beautiful ghost. At one moment she dominated + the entire ring of hills like a snow-capped mountain + looming from a sea of dark foothills and spruce + forests; at another she only blended softly and + quietly with the water, like a wraith of the sea; + again, she was a drifting sea gull, or a snowy albatross + with dark wings. By the magical influence of + the dusk, she was quivering and unsteady, like a + mirage. And soon she was no more than a lovely + white shadow—a flicker—a whim of the twilight. + Whatever she was or might be, all images of piracy + left me at the sight of her, lying calm and innocent + in the dusk. + </p> + + <p>Not until all these thoughts had passed through + me did I answer the mate. “Pretty? I should say + she is!”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>But now we had almost reached the other + schooner. I hadn’t ceased my vigorous rowing, + though, in wonder of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, it had considerably + abated.</p> + + <p>“Are you getting tired, Barbara?”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Mysterious Isle</span></p> + + <p>I nearly smiled. If he had known the way I had + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span> + rowed around and about Lake Sunapee, in a boat + which took twice as much strength as this one merely + to keep under way—! “Me? No, mate. I don’t + get tired so easily as that!” And I gradually speeded + up again. The other schooner, the small three-master, + seemed, in the soft darkness, much more like + a pirate craft than that snow-lily of a <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> + She had a slender, graceful black hull with a band + of yellow around it below the bulwarks, and her + name in yellow letters. Alas! I have forgotten what + it was. She was a dainty little vessel; the mate, too, + said so. + </p> + + <p>“Well, where would you like to go now, Barbara?”</p> + + <p>“What do you say about going over to the + island on the other side of the bay?”</p> + + <p>“Are you sure you can row that far?”</p> + + <p>“Oh, certainly, certainly.”</p> + + <p>“You don’t want me to take her?”</p> + + <p>“Not unless you want to.”</p> + + <p>Here, you see, I made use of this pleasure + excursion to get a glimpse of that mysterious little + island about which I had become so curious. I wanted + to see what that dark beach really was. We crossed + the bow of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> at a slashing rate. (Both + of us raised our eyes and saw her huge, high jibboom + looming about us, seeming to point at the sky + itself.) We neared the island; closer and closer we + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span>drew in, until we could hear the breeze whispering in + its trees. It loomed darksomely. It is one of my lasting + regrets that I didn’t have the chance to land and + do some true exploration there, in the approved piratical + fashion. I am sure that considerable treasure + might have been found. But by this time it was getting + pretty dark, and we couldn’t see where we were + going. The mate was afraid to let me land, because + we didn’t know the place, and we couldn’t see where + rocks were. But closer and closer I drew in, rowing + very slowly now. I could see jagged rocks thrusting + up from the water close to the shore. Now we could + almost <em>feel</em> that uncanny dark island, like the breath + of a ghost upon our cheeks. + </p> + + <p>Ahead was that mass of darkness which I once + thought had been a beach. Now I still thought that + it was a beach, covered with seaweeds. But when I + saw what it really was, I was so surprised that I + forgot where I was going. It was nothing but a + huge, long shelf of dark rock, sloping down gradually + from the woods to the sea, almost at the grade of + a beach, and almost as smooth as a paved street. + It was covered thickly with massive seaweeds, some + of them, I could see in the half-light, as much as six + feet long; a dense, dark shroud of them, spread like + a mermaid carpet over that great rock, with the + waves gently lifting and stirring those which overhung + into the sea.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Place of Treasure</span></p> + + <p>This was the final impression of the island. + And it served to implant that little place very firmly + in my memory. I made a deep resolve that, if I + should ever chance to go up Lahave way again, I + would at any cost visit that island. We ought to go + together there, Alan, with our shovels and picks + over our shoulders, in the search for treasure. Can’t + you see us doing it? Fifty-fifty! Only we <em>must</em> pick + out a sailing vessel to go in. Don’t you think so? + Can you conceive of any earthly pleasure in going + on a pirate expedition in a steamer? I can’t. In such + a case you always want to go in the way you suppose + the pirates themselves went. The nearer you + can do it to the way they did it, the nearer success + you will be. That is a secret which few treasure-hunters + know, and you had better keep it fairly close. + Such secrets must not be revealed to the world.</p> + + <p>Mate Bill and I talked little during this cruise. + What we did say was mostly about Bridgewater, and + schooners, and the sea, and the old man, and the + steward; and I said some things about Lake Sunapee, + canoes, rowboats, sailboats, swimming, fishing, and + so on. It was very quiet, almost whispered talk, for + we were somehow under the influence of the night, + and of the beauty of the little landlocked harbor. + Also, we were awed by the queenliness of the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, towering there so white that you fancied + she was in full moonlight while the rest of the world + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>wasn’t. The water beneath her heel and forefoot + was black, very black; yet we could somehow detect + brighter shadows moving about and blending into it. + </p> + + <p>“Isn’t she a very good-looking schooner, mate, + for one of her size?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, I think she is. She’s one o’ the best-looking + three-masters I’ve ever seen. But she’s too + high forrard. Now, ’f she was just a little lower + forrard, or a bit higher aft, she’d be just right. The + stern of any ship ought to be higher than the forrard + part, to look right.”</p> + + <p>Bill was, in all probability, right about that. + But she was so beautiful and quiet there that it + seemed almost profane to disturb her by such minute + criticism. No more was said until we had got very + near her. Because she was at anchor, the side lights + (which, by the way, I had so faithfully watched being + lit every night while we were under way) were not + lit, but three or four very small, bright riding lights + were gleaming, up fairly high in the rigging, at bow + and stern, mysterious in the darkness, hovering like + fireflies with perpetual lights above the vast white + hulk.</p> + + <p>Again the mate broke the silence: “When you + go back to the schooner, Barbara, go close under + her stern, will you? There’s a spot there I want to + look at.”</p> + + <p>“All right, mate.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Spectral Moment</span></p> + + <p>“But you’ll have to be careful to allow fer the + current.”</p> + + <p>“I guess I can manage it.”</p> + + <p>Quickly and, I think, rather skillfully, I guided + the little skiff under the counter of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> + Not until then could we really see how fast the current + was running. It was sweeping past the schooner + at a tremendous rate. The shadow of the overhanging + stern made the water uncanny and green there. + And the gigantic rudder hung there, motionless, + dark and awful in its immense curves. I liked to + think how often that same rudder had guided the + <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> through tempestuous waters. + </p> + + <p>The mate looked at a place on the bottom where + the wood seemed to be worn and frayed. Then we + pushed on and drew up at the foot of the ladder. + There was another boat dancing there, tied by its + painter. What could it mean? We made our own skiff + fast and climbed up. I felt more than ever like a + pirate boarding a ship, as I climbed up that crude + vertical ladder with the mate following me. I could + almost feel a cutlass between my teeth. But when I + remembered the loveliness of the lonely white + schooner as she had looked from a little way off in + the bay, this feeling vanished entirely.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> + + <p>The next thing was to see who were our guests. + The bo’s’n greeted us, and said in a playful whisper: + “The old man’s got callers.” Next we heard harsh, + racking, scraping sounds from below. “What on + earth—?” said I. “The old man’s playing his + gramophone.” Well, thought I, there goes one of + the cook’s statements! He evidently <em>isn’t</em> too stingy + to use the needles, after all. He was playing some + horrible talking record, and he seemed quite to be + enjoying himself, for I heard loud bursts of whooping + laughter every now and then, followed by the + happy giggles of some female voice. I could resist no + longer, and I stomped heavily down the after doorway + of the cabin, striding briskly through, glancing + curiously to right and left as I passed, and then + stomping out the forward door. I beheld very strange + things. The captain was sitting beside the gramophone, + laughing and beaming all over, and in the + two rooms of the cabin was quite an audience of old + and young, with two or three giggling girls and + children. I must confess that I resented such an + intrusion into the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> I felt that these people + could not belong to the adventures that had surrounded + me for the past several days. No; they were + landsmen—they had no business here.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Confabulation</span></p> + + <p>I fled forrard, in company with Mate Bill and + my shipmate. The cook was in the galley, and we + gathered there, a jolly company, and had a regular + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span> + “go” of it. The boys—Richardson, Irish Bill, + Roy, and Bob—had taken possession of the skiff + and started briskly ashore. Trust them to take the + first opportunity! The cook was disgusted with them, + as he always was. He said it was ridiculous that + four full-grown men should try to jam themselves + into that skiff, built for not more than two. In <em>his</em> + day such foolishness wouldn’t have been allowed. + This deserting all duty and running ashore at the + first chance made him sick, he said. Then he fell to + arguing with the mate as to which could do the + worse things to the old man, and which could strike + the harder blow. The mate insisted that the steward + couldn’t make him feel anything, and the cook said + he had made many a better man feel a great deal. + This talk continued for a long time. Among other + things, we heard once more the tale of how the + Chinese cook had chased Captain Avery ashore with + a drawn cutlass, and the tale of how the cook was + seasick in his bunk for ten days, and how the quart + of cold tea cured him. Those two were his favorites. + After that discussion was ended, and the landlubbers + had gone back to land, the three of us went aft, leaving + the cook to shut up the galley for the night. + There was a little more friendly but insignificant + talk with the mate, out in the frosty starlight; then + we turned in. + </p> + + <p>For about the first time during that whole trip, + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span>we slept steady—that is, with no rolling. Although + at first I missed that cradling motion, I slept as + soundly as ever. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>In the morning I got out on deck early. The + harbor and the hills around it looked, by broad day-light, + twice as lovely as before. How blue that water, + and how like ancient towns the two little villages, + lying there amid those green, green hills!</p> + + <p>A little way up the stream was a sort of thing + which looked like a large, fat bell buoy. I was sure + I hadn’t seen it in the evening. I asked the mate + about it, and “Blamed if I know” was all I got. + Captain Avery didn’t understand it, either. All of a + sudden the top of it threw forth a glorious shower + of red sparks, accompanied by a long <i>fiz‑z‑z‑z‑z‑z‑z!</i> + and the thing, whatever it was, started slowly churning + down the river, lifting its head high like some + monstrous ancient dragon or a crocodile of some + extinct and forgotten species. As it came closer and + closer, with a curious gliding motion, we saw that it + was a sort of raft with an engine, laden with mud + and clay. A mud-scow!</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Painting under + Difficulties</span></p> + + <p>Two small tugs came churning downstream. + The old man hailed them both through his long + speaking-trumpet, and asked each if it were the tug + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span> + that was to tow him up. Both replied that others + were coming down shortly. Meanwhile the mate + had started mixing up a dark green paint for the + waterways, and the captain was standing over his + shoulder, pestering the life out of him, and telling + him that the color wasn’t dark enough, or that it + wasn’t bright enough, and that it needed a touch of + this, and that, and the other. The mate was mighty + glad when he got the bucket prepared to the satisfaction + of the old man. (Incidentally, he insisted + that there was altogether too much of the color mixed + for the waterways, and the mate obstinately persisted + that there wasn’t too much. When the old man + got out of the way for a moment, he repeated slyly + to me his former statement that if the old fellow + could have his way “he’d make one can o’ paint go + for the hull ship.”) He took the can down by the + port waterways and started painting, but the old + man came up and said something critical about it. + This was the last straw. The mate deliberately laid + down his brush, left the paint-can, and strode over to + where I was sitting, without so much as another + look at the captain. Then said he: “P’isonous old + wretch! Always interferin’, as usual! Well, all I can + say is, if he wants me to take it easy, I sure will.” + And he did. + </p> + + <p>But now the crew were gathering up forward + to tell their adventures to the mate and the cook. I + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span>wanted to be in on that, and I went skipping up forward, + too. Bob was the chosen orator of the party, + and he began, with strange chuckles and squeaks and + scrapes and rasps, to tell the tale. + </p> + + <p>“How many new wimmenfolks did you pick + up?” asked the cook.</p> + + <p>“I dunno why,” replied the bo’s’n, “but all the + wimmenfolk seemed t’ be mighty feared of us. We + was goin’ along, when we come up behind a woman + with a big basket, ’n’ she took one good look behind + her, ’n’ then ducked into the first doorway. When we + passed, we looked back, ’n’ there she was agin, + walkin’ behind us. Well, a little further on we come + up to two girls walkin’ along. ’N’ they did jist the + same thing. They ducked right into the first doorway, + ’n’ waited awhile, till we went by. ’N’ then, + when we looked back agin, there they was, comin’ + along behind.”</p> + + <p>“Pshaw!” said the mate, “you’ll get all the + gals in Bridgewater so skeered of us that when I go + ashore they won’t come anywhere near me. I don’t + go ashore like that, skeering all the wimmenfolk + out o’ their wits. I go ashore like a gen’leman, I do. + W’at do you ’xpect, goin’ ashore lookin’ like bums, + you?”</p> + + <p>“Say, Bill,” interposed Bob, again, “you’re no + more a gen’leman when y’ go ashore ’n I am. I got a + new suit, I have, ’n’ new shoes, too.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Resurrection of the Mudhook</span></p> + + <p>“So have I,” said Roy, “and a brand-new four-in-hand + tie.”</p> + + <p>“Me, too,” said Richardson, “’n’ a tie-pin, + too.”</p> + + <p>“Who give it to you?” said Roy.</p> + + <p>“M’ best girl.”</p> + + <p>“Humph!” said Bill, emphatically. “I can + take the shine out o’ you all, when I make up m’ + mind to ’t.”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>But now events were occurring aft, and I + scampered back again. A third tug was chugging its + way slowly down the river, and the old man had his + speaking-trumpet all ready and was mustering up + his whoops to hail it. It proved to be the right tug; + and the skipper shouted to the mate, up forrard, to + get the mudhook up.</p> + + <p>“Get up the mudhook, boys!” trilled out the + bo’s’n, in such a voice that I wonder the skipper + didn’t hear him. I ran forward again, at this, to see + the anchor come up—something I always loved. + Somehow it wasn’t, this time, so ghostlike and awesome + as on the day when, out of sight of land, we + had hauled it up through the fog. But there is always + one moment, just before the arms reach out of + the water, when it reminds one of a skeleton.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span></p> + + <p>The tug was now rapidly making fast on our + port side. (Richardson, I noticed, stuck most carefully + to his painting of the bulwarks.) When the skipper + of this tug jumped aboard, I fairly caught my + breath with amazement. He was exactly the same + sort of man as the other tug master—wild, kindly, + huge, Dutch, and another “champeen” spitter; and + with the same swaggering, swanky, bossy, familiar + way. He also recognized Captain Avery, and + greeted him in almost the same way as the other, + calling him, also, “Cap.” Captain Avery recognized + him, too, and again we watched the two sitting there + in a most friendly way, asking each other how this + person was, and that was, and whether they remembered + how they once changed watchchains, and saying + how glad they were to see each other again, and + one asking how the voyage down was, and the other + replying that “we got caught i’ the fog fer a few + days—wet, nasty fog, ye knaow, with a sloppy, + nasty roll going.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Up the Lahave</span></p> + + <p>The new arrival was even more of a champeen + spitter than the other. While he was steering + the schooner (for Captain Avery was so obliging as + to let him steer, which the other appreciated), he + would simply turn his head and spit clean and clear + over the bulwarks. It was Homeric. Again the mate + filled my ears with his non-approval, and he talked + considerably about what a mess the fellow was making + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> + all over the deck. “He seems t’ be pretty good + at it, though,” said Bill. “Poor old Cap’n Avery + has t’ go clean t’ the side o’ the schooner when he + wants t’ spit.” + </p> + + <p>I was glad to be starting on this little run up + the river, though I had secretly hoped to explore + that mysterious island early in the morning. We + went around bend after bend of the stream, always + seeing new bends ahead. Sometimes we passed pine + and spruce woods; sometimes there was nothing but + hills; sometimes there were fields and orchards of + apple trees, or country villages, or yellow and gray + beaches. Once we passed a place where a small + schooner was under construction. I longed to stay + and examine her closely. She was a very deep-bottomed + boat, not more than a hundred feet long, + yet apparently destined to be a three-master. I should + have loved to see her finished. A three-master of that + size must look quite like a fairy ship.</p> + + <p>It seemed no time at all before we rounded the + last great curve of the river, and saw, ahead of us, + Bridgewater spread out, one dense mass of houses + and higher buildings, crowded together like an army. + I hated to see the proud and strong <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, + her sails down and furled, being towed, pushed, + dragged, hauled, up the river by such s puny, dirty + tug, like a prisoner or a wrecked ship, as if she were + incapable of taking care of herself; she who took + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span>care of herself so nobly when there was wind, and + she had sea room! + </p> + + <p>Well, here we were at the end of the interesting + part of our journey. Our piratical adventure had + ended. A month before, I had had not the slightest + idea that it could even begin. Three weeks before, + I had only the faintest hopes; it was then like a + dream somewhere in the future. Two weeks before, + I had longed for it and clamored for it. And then + it had suddenly become real and tangible, almost + clutchable. Eleven days before, I was wild because + I couldn’t believe it. Ten days ago, I had started; it + <em>was</em> real, after all! All this went through my mind + quickly and silently. How mysterious is Time, and + how strange in its doings—the same thing ahead of + you one day, behind you the next! Here we were in + Bridgewater. + </p> + + <p>The tug took us in to the wharf on the eastern + side of the town, just ahead of a schooner very much + like the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> She was another three-master, + with a black painted hull and ornaments, and her + name in yellow letters, very fancily decorated with + yellow curves and scrolls. Her name was <i>Hazel <abbr>L.</abbr> + Myra</i>.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Lure of the Crosstrees</span></p> + + <p>By the wharf were sky-high piles of lath, bound + up in great bundles like shocks of corn. It was the + next cargo of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, all ready for New + York. The wharf was dirty and disused, as was this + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span> + part of the town. Three boys, street urchins in rags, + came strolling by to look at the new schooner. A + couple of laughing, robust farmers passed and spoke + to the Captain. The day was unmercifully hot, and + I felt rather weary and depressed, and longed to be + out at sea again, in a good brisk sailing breeze, with + the whitecaps roaring and looking like wild white + warhorses. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Suddenly there came a faint, warm breath of + wind upon my port cheek. The tug left us and chugged + away, muddying the water with her propeller. Then + an impulse came over me—an irresistible impulse + to climb, and climb, and climb; up on to the crosstrees, + up to the sky. I could no more tell you why + than I could say why I knew I wanted to climb the + mainmast rigging rather than any other. And this + was not, strangely enough, for the sake of “showing + off” to the boys and farmers. Many times I have + climbed for that reason—to show that I was not a + landlubber—but this was for no earthly reason at + all; I simply wanted to climb. And climb I did! I + went up like a cat, a squirrel. I never stopped until + I reached my well-beloved crosstrees. Then I sat + down, and thought and thought, looking down all + the time upon the people so far below me. And I + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span>thought of them, and of how small and insignificant + they were, like grains of pepper in the pepper-caster. + I laughed at them proudly. And yet I was no less + insignificant myself, from down there! I was only a + chipmunk frisking up into the branches. + </p> + + <p>When one is sitting on the crosstrees, one is + in an entirely separate world. Perhaps you feel that + you’re in Heaven—that is, as to position; perhaps + you are a god on Olympus, looking down upon the + world. However you feel, I think there is always an + idea that someone ought to be on the crosstrees of + the mast next to you. I don’t know quite why, but I + always had that sense. Then it would be entirely like + a separate world: two would make a vast population. + You would look across to each other, and nod, + and smile, as if to say some secret that no one else + knew anything about; and it would be so strange to + be friendly over such a chasm! That was how the + ancient Greek gods and goddesses must have felt, + alone with each other on Olympus, looking down on + a world so far below, and yet having a world of their + own right with them. You begin to get a sense—a + vague idea—of the immensity of space. It is strange + what a difference sixty feet can make. It is the same + on a mountain-top.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Shore Leave</span></p> + + <p>I came down from the mainmast crosstrees, + feeling sorry to be at Bridgewater. My shipmate was + in the act of scrambling over the side of the schooner. + Shortly afterward he disappeared upon the country + road, evidently going to find out about trains. + Then the steward suggested that the mate should go + ashore to get the mail, if there were any. The captain + had gone ashore immediately upon touching the + wharf, and the mate was free to do whatever he + liked. It was agreed that he should go up to the + post office, and I with him.</p> + + <p>The mate started to change his clothes, but + the steward stopped him, saying: “Oh, shucks, Bill! + go as you are.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, I couldn’t.”</p> + + <p>“Sure! go ahead.”</p> + + <p>“I niver yet went ashore lookin’ this way. I’d + be ashamed to.”</p> + + <p>“Oh, never mind, mate,” said I. “You go as + you are, and I’ll go as I am, and we’ll have a bully + time of it.”</p> + + <p>Agreed. We scrambled over the side, and felt + the ground beneath our feet again. It was very + strange. Even when the schooner was in port and + safe out of the wind, there was a feeling about her + that the ground doesn’t have; an air of unsteadiness. + She feels like a ship always. Which the ground + doesn’t. At first I was puzzled. I walked slowly, because + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span>it was so strange. Presently I picked up my pace + and strode on at a great rate—<em>but</em> rolling from + side to side with a real sailor swagger as I walked. + It wasn’t put on at all; it was real. I can’t describe + to you how queer that was. I had always, always + dreamed in a vague way about going to sea, and returning + brawny, sunburned, and with a sailor walk. + And at last it was true, though like a dream. + </p> + + <p>So we strode merrily along, Bill in his ragged + sailor clothes, with the same hat on his head that he + had worn all through the trip (except in the fog, + when he had worn his sou’wester). His shirt-sleeves + were rolled up, as they always were, and his shirt + was unbuttoned three buttons at the neck, as it always + was (except on extra hot days, when it was + open clear down to his belt). I was in my gay old + sailor rags, and I had on a sunburn that would have + made a beach bonfire look pale. And both of us were + striding along the road, side by side, with such a + sailor roll, and such an I’ve-just-come-home-from-sea,-sir + look, that no one could have mistaken us for + anything but sailors. I only wished I had a bit of tattooing + to display, as Mate Bill had. He had a very + elegant full-rigged ship on the inside of his left forearm, + almost buried in brawn and brownness. He told + me, with an air of pride, that it had cost him two + dollars to have it put on.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Shipmates Ashore</span></p> + + <p>If I had been walking, in silks and satins, beside + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span> + the King of England, I could not have felt + prouder than I did then. It was the supreme moment + of my life. We pushed on, and everyone looked at us, + as I knew they would. And somehow I could forget + most successfully who I really was, and be neither + more nor less than Mate Bill’s shipmate. Lustily + and rollingly we walked, and there were strange + moments when, as I looked ahead at the dusty road, + curving into the woods, it seemed to be waving gently + up and down, just as the deck or the end of the flying + jibboom had waved in our rolling days. There + were times when the whole world waved up and + down, making me feel quite dizzy—much more so + than at any time on the schooner herself. The + strangeness of solid ground! We walked, Mate Bill + and I. + </p> + + <p>We crossed a bridge into the main part of the + town. Here were fashionable folk everywhere. We + walked steadily, looking neither to left nor right, + but rolling like two ships in a high cross swell. Everyone + stared. But I was not myself then at all. I didn’t + come of even a decent family. I was a common sailor, + and Mate Bill’s shipmate. I let them stare. I didn’t + have the smallest apology to offer, to myself or anyone + else, for my appearance. I held my head high + and felt proud—oh, so proud!—of walking beside + Mate Bill. A common sailor was higher in rank + than the King of England. I was higher in rank than + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span>the Queen of it. So there we walked, the King and + the Queen—Bill brown and hearty and tattooed, I + scarlet, ragged, and proud. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>For a moment or two we paused on the bridge + and leaned over the railing, looking down into the + water. Then we turned to look back at the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr></i> where she lay on the other side of the river. + That was another of those supreme moments. Now + we had changed from two merry, laughing comrades, + walking lustily along, looking neither to right + nor left, to two shipmates, two common sailors, stopping + together on the streets to spin a yarn and gossip + a bit. A couple of girls passed by. They nudged + each other, and giggled.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Staring Lady</span></p> + + <p>We went on, with people staring and nudging + each other on all sides upon our approach. We neared + the post office. It was jammed full of school children, + girls, jesting boys, older women. Here was the supreme + chance! We went up those small, long steps + two by two, instead of one at a time, and rolled our + way into the place, still looking neither to left nor + right, but pushing on right lustily through the crowd. + We entered, the King, the Queen—he lusty and + brown, and with the heartiest, merriest, most piratical + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> + sailor face you ever saw; she scarlet as fire, + ragged, and very cheerful. It was “shipmate” this, + “shipmate” that, all the time; I took great pains + that more than one person should hear us call each + other so. We elbowed, yarning merrily, through the + crowd, and it certainly did make them stare to see + us striding in that way, as free and easy as if we had + been sailors and shipmates all our born days. In a + loud voice Bill asked if the mail had come in. It + hadn’t, and it wasn’t due for a quarter of an hour. + </p> + + <p>While Bill was asking this, I was standing just + behind him, my hands on my hips, looking as full + of the sea as I could. Suddenly I became aware of a + lady, tall, slender, and dressed in black from head to + foot, standing near me in a corner of the room. She + had a curious, small, kind face, and she smiled at me + so hard that I had to give her a smile in return. No + doubt she, like all the rest, thought it strange to see + me with Mate Bill, who, from the exposed inside + of his left forearm, was certainly a sailor. People, + looking at us, would feel us entirely different from + what we were. They would see a very sunburned, + ragged little girl in company with a hearty sailor. + That was delightful, too—especially as that same + sunburned little girl was so free and gay with the + sailor, so shipmate-ish; but it was not nearly so delightful + as my own idea that I actually was Bill’s + shipmate. Anyway, I didn’t care; I just didn’t care.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span></p> + + <p>Somehow, after I had turned my head away + from the woman, something within me said that she + was staring hard. I felt rather as if she shouldn’t + stare quite so hard. It was all right to have her look + at me in surprise and smile in a friendly way—that + was just what I wanted; but should she keep her + eyes fixed and fixed and fixed on me like that? I + couldn’t resist looking again, out of the corner + of my eye. She <em>was</em> staring. I dropped her another + smile. Then I forced myself to forget her, and looked + away.</p> + + <p>Now Bill spoke up: “What’s the use of waitin’ + in here fer fifteen minutes? I know I’m eager enough + to get out in the air. What do you say we stroll by the + river a bit, ’n’ then come back later?”</p> + + <p>“All right with me, shipmate,” said I. “A little + fresh air wouldn’t come amiss, now you speak of it. + Let’s go.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">The Point of View</span></p> + + <p>I spoke this quietly enough so that no one could + hear—all except the “shipmate.” Then, after one + parting look at the woman, who was still staring, I + followed Mate Bill out through the crowd, and down + the little steps two by two, and down the street, and + out by the river. There we stopped and strolled back + and forth, as he had suggested, and talked, and went + out on the bridge to look down into the water again. + Soon we went back. The woman was not there, and + I felt considerably relieved about that, because + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span> + something in her small, quiet, kind eyes made me feel + uncomfortable. They were like winking glass beads. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>Mate Bill asked, in a hearty voice: “Any mail + fer th’ schooner <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, the schooner that just + come in here today?”</p> + + <p>The girl sorted out the various mail for different + schooners. There seemed to be a great deal + for another one, but none for us.</p> + + <p>“That’s funny,” said Bill. “Huh! All that + trouble fer nothin’! Well, it’s been a nice walk.”</p> + + <p>It had. I didn’t feel in the least disappointed + about the absence of mail, but I wouldn’t have + missed the walk for the world.</p> + + <p>Adventures were still to befall us. We walked + along, and—</p> + + <p>“Did you see that woman in the post office, + Barbara?” said Bill.</p> + + <p>“You mean the one who was standing over in + the corner and staring?”</p> + + <p>“Yes. That’s her. Wasn’t she staring, + though!”</p> + + <p>“I reckon she thought we were a couple of + rowdies.”</p> + + <p>“Well, we look it.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span></p> + + <p>“We certainly do, shipmate! But we look like + what we are—sailors.”</p> + + <p>“I never went to town lookin’ so in all m’ born + days.”</p> + + <p>“No, but we were just like a couple of sailors, + weren’t we, you and I?”</p> + + <p>“Yes—but I don’t like t’ go ashore with you, + lookin’ so awful.”</p> + + <p>“But I like you to, shipmate. It wouldn’t have + been fun if you and I had dressed up. We wouldn’t + have been sailors then at all.”</p> + + <p>“Ssh, Barbara! That’s her ahead!”</p> + + <p>It was—it was, unmistakably, the tall black + woman. We strode along until we caught up with + her, which, at such a gait, we did very shortly. I gave + her a brief nod and a smile of recognition as we + passed; otherwise I looked neither to left nor right. + The funny part of all this was that, though I was + amazingly conspicuous in my rags and tatters, with + my face a bonfire of sun and sea, and such a crazy + sailor roll, I still wasn’t in the least embarrassed.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Rencontre</span></p> + + <p>So we rolled past until we had gone the whole + length of the long bridge and come back to the <i>Norman + <abbr>D.</abbr>’s</i> side of the river. We were stopped by the + railroad track, for a long, long freight train had + started across it, going very slowly. There was nothing + to do but stop and wait, and talk as best we + could in the terrific din. It was a long time that we + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span> + stood there; and, just as we were beginning to think + that the train would never come to an end, we felt + someone approaching slowly and calmly behind us, + and I felt a pair of beady eyes fixed on me—someone + staring. I looked around quickly, and there was + “her.” Now the meeting was inevitable. Someone + had to say something. + </p> + + <p>“How do you do?” said she, in a calm voice.</p> + + <p>“Hello!” said I, heartily, and “Hello!” said + Bill.</p> + + <p>Then there was a rather awkward pause.</p> + + <p>“I thought you were a little boy,” said she, + finally, “until I saw your pigtails.” She had a curious + accent which seemed to be universal among the + Nova Scotians.</p> + + <p>“Well, perhaps I do look it,” said I. “We + came up on the schooner—just got in this morning.”</p> + + <p>“Are ye from Yankeeland?” said she, looking + at me curiously.</p> + + <p>“I am,” said I. “From Connecticut.”</p> + + <p>“And you say you came up on a schooner?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>”</p> + + <p>“Hm! That must have been fun. Did you + enjoy it?”</p> + + <p>“I’ll say!”</p> + + <p>“And you?” she said, turning to Bill. “Are + you the captain?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span></p> + + <p>“No, first mate,” said Bill, heartily enough.</p> + + <p>“Mate,” I echoed.</p> + + <p>Another pause. Then: “Were you the only + girl aboard?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, I was, thank Heaven!” said I.</p> + + <p>“You were glad not to have anyone else with + you?”</p> + + <p>“Indeed yes. But, say: don’t you want to walk + down with us and see the <i>Norman D</i>? She’s mighty + pretty!”</p> + + <p>“No, I can’t now.”</p> + + <p>“Well, you’ll find her there for quite a long + time, if you ever want to see her.”</p> + + <p>“About three weeks,” said Bill.</p> + + <p>“Thank you,” said she.</p> + + <p>The train had now gone past, and we three + stepped along in company. Before many steps Bill + and I passed her. She minced sedately along a short + way, and then, with a final glassy look and a friendly + wave of her hand, she disappeared into a little old + house. Bill and I quietly returned to the schooner + and climbed aboard.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Resignation</span></p> + + <p>There we found quite a state of excitement. + The steward was hopping up and down the deck + on one leg and saying: “The old man wants t’ see + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> + you, Barbara. You better go aft ’n’ see w’at he + wants. I think the custom-house man is here.” Aft I + went, and I had to open up my hand-baggage, and to + show my birth-certificate. The old man, by the way, + had gone for the mail, and had evidently got it during + the time when Bill and I were waiting outside. + My certificate was among it. + </p> + + <p>Out on deck, everyone had letters, and they + were reading them to each other. The mate took his + away in a corner and spent a very long time over + them. Then he told me that they were from his wife. + “I got seven letters from her when we was in New + Haven,” said he.</p> + + <p>And now a sad event was happening in the + crew: for Richardson was resigning. He scrubbed + up, put on shore clothes, and finally went aft to the + captain—probably to get his wages. He returned + forrard with beaming contentment.</p> + + <p>“I guess we weren’t good enough to you, + Dick,” said Roy, mournfully.</p> + + <p>“Oh, you fellows were all mighty good to me,” + said Richardson, almost in tears. Then he hopped + off and went ashore to catch a train.</p> + + <p>How many times I scrambled up and down the + rigging, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know exactly why I + did it, but something was telling me that it was + mighty near my parting with the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i>, and, + though I was likely to climb to other crosstrees in my + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span>life, I shouldn’t have much more chance to swing + my legs on those of the schooner which had brought + me to Nova Scotia. + </p> + + <p>It was Saturday. At last my shipmate returned + aboard, and said that we shouldn’t be able to get a + train down until Monday. So we had the prospect of + another day in Bridgewater. We decided to stay at + a hotel, for we were tired of hearing the captain’s + complaints about sleeping on the couch; also, the + charm of the schooner was lost when we were not + under way. For the first time during the whole trip, + I put on ladylike clothes, and appeared in the midst + of the crew again. They stared like so many fish. + The mate said, in a voice which sounded a little wistful: + “But you didn’t dress up that way when you + went ashore this mornin’!”</p> + + <p>I hoped his feelings weren’t hurt. I said: “No, + I didn’t, because I thought it would be more fun + walking through the streets looking like born sailors + and shipmates.”</p> + + <p>“Well, I think I like you better in your good + clothes,” said he.</p> + + <p>“Oh, <span class="allsmcap">NO</span>!” I protested, in frank disappointment.</p> + + <p>“Well, perhaps not,” he yielded. “You were + all right as a little sailor boy, anyhow.”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">A Gift without Thanks</span></p> + + <p>So we went off ashore. I didn’t realize it at the + time, but that was my last glimpse of Mate Bill as + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span> + he is and ought to be. The truly last time I saw him, + it was not Mate Bill at all. + </p> + + <p>We found a good hotel and deposited our luggage. + Then we went out for a walk. We picked the + back roads of Bridgewater and headed as much for + open country as we could. The Nova Scotian people + are more friendly than any I have ever seen. Everyone + nodded and smiled and said “Good day!” to + us, as though we had lived there all our lives. As we + came out upon a long country road that led out + toward a rather high hill, we passed a house where + an old, sweet-looking man was mowing the lawn. We + had been picking and examining the Nova Scotian + wildflowers, and as soon as the old man saw that, + he left his lawn-mower where it was and ran off into + the back yard for a moment. When he came back he + had a great bunch of pansies of gorgeous velvety + colors, brighter and glossier than any I have ever + seen. He gave them at once to me, saying: “I see + you were lookin’ fer flowers, so I brought you some. + You don’t need to thank me, ’cause I’m so deef I + couldn’t hear, anyhow.” We were touched.</p> + + <p>The flowers have an extraordinary brilliance + there. Such pansies! And the columbine! that is the + most splendid of all. Almost everyone has it—great + double blossoms, almost as large as tiger lilies, of + all the colors of earth, ranging from dark blue to + bright yellow, lavender, pink. We stopped beside + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span>someone’s garden, where a man was down on his + hands and knees weeding a flower-bed. We spoke to + him in a friendly way about his garden. Immediately + he got up and picked us a great bunch of the exquisite + columbine, with some pansies. It seems as if + the Nova Scotians make the very best of their short + summers, cramming into their gardens every flower + that can possibly find an inch of soil to fasten its + roots in. + </p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>The next day, Sunday, we went down to say + good-bye to those of the <i>Norman <abbr>D.</abbr></i> In our forgetfulness, + we never thought about its being Sunday + until, as we drew very near the schooner and were + walking along on the railroad tracks, we met the + crew face to face. We stepped back amazed. Bill, + Bob, Roy, and Irish Bill, all marching along in a + body, all with new dark blue suits, all with newly + shined shoes, all in clean white shirts and ties! Every + atom of their charm, their character, had vanished + out of them. Before, they were sailors. Now they + were nothing—nothing at all. Even the mate was + considerably less piratical and delightful.</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Shore-going Togs</span></p> + + <p>It threatened rain, and the mate said he had + decided not to go ashore at all, but to return to the + schooner with us. “I don’t want to get my clothes + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> + wet,” said he. Care-free Mate Bill worrying about + getting his clothes wet! But the other three were + determined to go on to town to “show off.” We left + them, and went to the schooner with the mate. Even + the steward was slightly dressed up. He had on a + clean apron, or a clean blue cotton shirt, or another + pair of trousers; he looked different, somehow. The + captain was dressed up like a young boy; and he + looked like a monkey, a positive monkey, in <em>his</em> shore + clothes. + </p> + + <p>It began to rain hard and furiously. We had + just time to duck into the cabin. The three of the + crew who had persisted in heading towards town + came running back at full speed and leaped over the + side of the schooner. We had quite a party down + there. The mate took our blankets and rolled them + into a beautiful roll, marline-hitching them with + stout cord, and tying them as only a sailor could. + Even a professional mountain-climber could do no + better. Then I went with him in to his bunk, and we + had a farewell talk. There was a snapshot on the + wall of his little room—a snapshot of a girl. The + mate indicated it, saying to me:</p> + + <p>“You know, my wife, she’s awful funny, and + she sends me all sorts o’ things, just to tease me. She + sent me that picture while we was down there in + New Haven.”</p> + + <p>“Who is she?”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span></p> + + <p>“Oh, she’s a girl I used to go with. I went with + her three years. Yes, I had pretty strong intentions + of hookin’ up with that girl!”</p> + + <p>“What happened that you didn’t?”</p> + + <p>“Well, I met t’ other one. Her father had + died, ’n’ she was livin’ there all alone, ’n’ so I went + to her instead.”</p> + + <p>“Have you seen the other girl since?”</p> + + <p>“Yes, a few times. She give me the dickens fer + goin’ to the other, ’n’ that was all there was to it.”</p> + + <p>Then he talked about his career. He gave a + sigh and said: “If I had my hull life t’ live over, I’d + do it powerful diff’rent—that is, if I knowed as + much as I know now.”</p> + + <p>“Would you go to sea, mate?”</p> + + <p>“Not if I knowed as much as I know now.”</p> + + <p>“What do you think you would do?”</p> + + <p>“Well, I reckon I’d ’a’ been a barber. That’s a + very pleasant little job. But bein’ a sailor is good in + some ways. I keep thinkin’ I’m goin’ t’ resign at th’ + next port, but somethin’ about it—I dunno, but I + seem t’ stick. It’s a good, healthy life, out in the + open, ’n’ that’s somethin’.”</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Self-conscious</span></p> + + <p>We went back to our hotel for supper, with an + agreement that the mate was to run up that way + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> + later, when he went ashore, and that we should be + on the lookout for him about six o’clock. The captain + was to come up, too, to write that note which he + had promised so long ago—a note for identification, + stating that we were his passengers on the + schooner, to be handed to any officials who might + challenge us in Boston. We were sitting in the hotel, + talking, about six o’clock, and watching for Bill. + Sure enough, we saw him striding along, in company + with Irish Bill. As for the skipper, we didn’t see him. + But the two Bills went straight on, appearing not + even to see the place. I darted out the door like a + flash and called out “Hi! Mate!” in a loud and + hearty voice. Several persons turned at the sound of + that “Mate!” + </p> + + <p>I asked him why he hadn’t stopped. He said he + thought it was much too grand a place for the likes + of him (he was in his half-sailor, half-shore clothes, + which were at least better than his real shore + clothes). I said that was nonsense, and asked him if + he didn’t want to come in. He agreed briefly, though + still feeling a little shy, and Irish Bill went on walking + up the street, alone.</p> + + <p>“Where’s Bill going?” I asked.</p> + + <p>“I dunno. Bill’s a queer lad, he is.”</p> + + <p>Then my shipmate appeared, and the three of + us set out for a walk together. We were discussing + the old man and wondering where he was, when + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span>suddenly we met him face to face. “I’ve just been + up-town for a little walk,” said he. We turned and + went back toward the hotel. My shipmate was extremely + eager not to let the old man slip between his + fingers and once more dodge writing that note. We + went in, and I sat with Mate Bill while the old man + wrote it. I saw him throw it away at least twice as if + dissatisfied. + </p> + + <p>As for Mate Bill and me, our talk ran on to + the jackknife which I had promised him.</p> + + <p>“I’ll send it up to Bridgewater as soon as I get + home, mate,” said I.</p> + + <p>“That will be fine, Barbara,” said he. “I’ll be + awful glad to have it. But listen, don’t send it to my + home <i>ad</i>dress, will you?” (He had given me his + home address before.) “Be sure not to send it there, + Barbara,” he went on, very earnestly, “Because, + you see, my wife ’d get the package, ’n’ she’d open + it, ’n’ w’at would she find but a jackknife? ’n’ from + ‘Barbara’! She wouldn’t rillize that you was jist a + little shipmate o’ mine. She’d think you was a girl + that I’d been goin’ with, ’n’ she’d be jealous, she + would. I know how it is, ’cause I got in trouble with + her that way once before. I’d get in wrong with her, + you see, ’n’ I wouldn’t like to have that. So don’t, + will you, Barbara?”</p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Last Words with Bill</span></p> + + <p>“No, I promise you I won’t, mate,” said I, in + the same earnest tone. “I’ll send it right up to + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span> + Bridgewater, and as soon as I get home, too, so that + it’ll get up here to you before the schooner sails.” + </p> + + <p>The rest of our conversation was on the same + theme—warning me against sending the knife to + his home address—until the end, when a strange + thing happened.</p> + + <p>“Was your mother worried ’bout havin’ you + come on the schooner?” said Bill.</p> + + <p>“No! Why should she be?”</p> + + <p>“Well, I thought, perhaps, you bein’ the on’y + woman aboard, she might git worried. But she didn’t + need to, anyhow. I know one that wouldn’t let you + be imposed upon—and that one is—<em>me</em>!”</p> + + <p>By this time the captain had finished, and it was + just when they were going out the door that Bill + said: “Good-bye, shipmate!” and I replied: “Good-bye, + shipmate!”</p> + + <p>And that was the last I saw of Bill.</p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + <p>As for the captain’s note, it ran like this:</p> + + <blockquote class="letter"> + <header> + <p>June 25th/27</p> + </header> + + <p>This is to certify that + Miss Barbara Follett and + <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Bryn were my guests + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span>on board the sch Norman + <abbr>D</abbr> from New Haven <abbr title="Connecticut">conn</abbr> + to Bridgewater <abbr title="Nova Scotia">N S</abbr> and are + returning home via the + Yarmouth boat to Boston + </p> + + <footer> + <p> + <abbr title="Captain">C.</abbr> Avery Master<br> + <abbr title="Schooner">Schn.</abbr> Norman <abbr>D</abbr> + </p> + </footer> + </blockquote> + + <p>But it wasn’t the Yarmouth boat that we took: + it was the train. The next morning early, we started + off by train and rode until we came to Digby. From + Digby we took a little steamer across the Bay of + Fundy to St. John, New Brunswick. For about three + hours of the afternoon we steamed across the great + bay. But there was no crew to talk to, no rigging. I + couldn’t have steered had I asked. Nothing was + familiar. The wind blew my skirts so that I could + hardly take a step—for there was a violent sailing + breeze, though nothing like our gale. I wish we + could have gone across in the schooner, before a + whitecapped sea like this. It was glorious, except + for the steadiness of the little ship, and the stiffness + and unfamiliarity of it. The exit to Digby Harbor + was heavenly—even lovelier than Lahave, if that + were possible. It was very much bigger, and just as + you thought you had the open sea ahead of you, you + saw two great green arms of land—something like + those at Lahave, but longer and slenderer and even + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> + more like arms—reaching out from the mainland + and all but meeting. + </p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Neque Vela, neque Armamenta</span></p> + + <p>We steamed out between those two long arms, + through the narrow opening. For a long time afterward + we could look back and back at the green + against the vivid sky; then we were out of sight of + land, and alone in the sea. We passed one little fisherman + very much like the one which we had seen on + the fifth day of the voyage in the schooner—the + day the sailing breeze had just begun to come. I was + delighted to see a sailing vessel again. Almost as + soon as we were out of sight of Digby we came in + sight of the hills and mountains in back of St. John—billowing + dark blue hills, reaching up and up + above the horizon; and at last we saw the city itself. + A few minutes later the steamer chugged into St. + John, and we disembarked.</p> + + <p>There isn’t anything to say about the place. My + mind was dwelling wholly on the voyage just past; + everything else was unimportant. We took the train + from there, staying on it all night, and in the morning + arrived in Boston. From Boston we took the + train to New Haven, and arrived there four hours + later. The only interesting thing that happened in + the whole train ride was that, passing over the border + between New Brunswick and Maine, the custom-house + official strode through the train asking + for identifications. He was very pleasant about it. + <span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span>I showed Captain Avery’s amusing little note, and + <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Holbrook’s affidavit, useful at last. + </p> + + <p>Mother was to meet us at New Haven. We + came walking up through the station with our luggage—including + the roll of blankets tied by Bill, + which had stayed faithfully tied through thick and + thin on the train. Mother said afterward that she + could see nothing but my glowing scarlet face and + two rows of great white teeth as I grinned. Sun, + wind, and salt sea had left their mark upon me!</p> + + <p>Everything I had once anticipated and dreamed + of took place. I found myself twice as strong and + hearty as before. I swanked, and I still rolled just a + little, though that had pretty well worn off by this + time. I told my stories, in a gay manner and in a + hearty sailor voice, all the way home and for days + afterward—all as I had often planned.</p> + + <p>When I ran up the steps at home, the first person + I saw was my friend <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen. I ran to + him at once with huge sailor leaps, and said, shaking + him warmly by the hand: “Thanks, <abbr title="Mister">Mr.</abbr> Rasmussen, + for sending me to Nova Scotia! Weather? We + had thick fog and calm most of the time—but one + good, ripping northeast gale.”</p> + + <p>“Well, you sure look husky enough to have + been a sailor. Thick fog ’n’ calm, did you have? And + nor’east wind? Hm! I kinda reckoned that was what + you was getting.”</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span></p> + + <hr class="tb"> + + + <p><span class="sidenote">Fidem non Fefelli</span></p> + + <p>The next afternoon I kept my promise to Mate + Bill by going in town to buy him a bully stout jackknife. + I wrote him a shipmate-ish letter at the same + time, asking him, among other things, to keep a + lookout for a poncho and some other things which + I had managed to leave on the schooner. I received + a letter from him shortly in answer. I wrote to him + again, and received another letter. But when I wrote + a third time, asking him to keep on writing to me, + because I didn’t want to lose track of him, and because + I <em>did</em> want to sail with him again sometime, I + got no answer; nor have I heard from him since. + But here, hoping you will not ridicule them in spite + of their imperfections, are his letters. It is delightful + to me to have them—the evidence that I have at + last made acquaintance with a true sailor. The first + is as follows:</p> + + <div class="full-page-img"> + <img src="images/facsimile.svg" alt="A handwritten letter, with +several spelling and grammar mistakes, with the actual text printed below."> + </div> + + <blockquote class="letter"> + <blockquote class="header"> + <p> + <span>Bridgewater</span> + <br> + <span class="i1">July 4 1929</span> + </p> + </blockquote> + +<p>Well shipmate</p> + +<p>I reicived your +letter was glad to hear that +you rive home saft again +well Barbara your things you +was speaking about they are +here the old man sed he +would send them to you +From new york</p> +<p>we leave here July 5 for +new york. I will soon Be +hearing the sail flap again +the old man is no better +the steward and him still +talk fit some times But I +gest it will be talk +I would like to see you here to +go Back with us</p> +<p>I no you like to go to sea +what king of a trip did you +have gone home</p> + +<footer class="left"> +<p>So long from your shipmate<br> + Bill</p> +</footer> +</blockquote> + + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span></p> + + <p>And here is the second:</p> + + <blockquote class="letter"> + <blockquote class="header"> + <p> + <span>New york</span> + <br> + <span class="i1">July</span> + <br> + <span class="i2">th 30 1927</span> + </p> + </blockquote> + + <p class="continued">well Barbara</p> + + <p class="p3">I reicived the jack-knife + sent I came in hear I had left Bridgewater + befor the knife reach there so they sent it + to me here</p> + + <p class="continued">so now I am trying to think how I am + gone to return the gif</p> + + <p class="continued">we was 16 days comming over hear we had fight + fog all the way over and lots of head wind + I thought we was never gone to get here + Barbara I am sending your things to you I + spoke to the old man about them and he + made no after to send then so I thought + I would send them to you</p> + + <p class="continued">I hop you get them all right</p> + + <p class="continued">we will be here about a week longer yet for we + leave I don’t no where we are gone from hear + yet</p> + + <p>well So long Barbara from your shipmate</p> + + <p> + <abbr>W H m</abbr> + </p> + </blockquote> + + <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> + + <p><span class="sidenote">Good-bye, Shipmates!</span></p> + + <p>There they are. <abbr>W. H. M.</abbr> is William Henry McLeod. + There is my shipmate. I’ve told you all about + him that I know—and all that I know about the + trip. + </p> + + <p>And so, Alan, with hearty, piratical good + wishes for the best of luck—good-bye!</p> + + <footer> + <p class="right mr-2"> + Your shipmate, + </p> + + <div id="signature"> + <img src="images/signature.svg" + alt="A image depicting the name ‘Blackheart’ in cursive and the drawing of bloody sword."> + </div> + </footer> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <section id="notes"> + <h2>Notes</h2> + <ul> + <li id="note-1"> + <p><a href="#noteref-1">[1]</a> The cook’s pronunciation; I have not found the word as yet. + The process is lowering buckets for sea water and washing down + the deck.</p> + </li> + + <li id="note-2"> + <p><a href="#noteref-2">[2]</a> The beginning of what Roy called “The Rosewood Casket,” + as he played and whistled it.</p> + </li> + </ul> + </section> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div id="publisher-note"> + <p class="uppercase"> + A note on the type in which this book is set + </p> + + <p><i>The type in which this book has been set (on the Linotype) is + based on the design of William Caslon (1692–1766). It is a + modern adaptation rather then an exact copy of the original. + Caslon’s letters are noted for their extreme legibility.</i></p> + + <div id="logo"> + <img src="images/logo.svg" alt="The logo for Alfred A. Knopf, Inc."> + </div> + + <p class="uppercase"> + Set up, electrotyped,<br> + printed and bound by the<br> + Plimpton Press, Norwood, <abbr title="Massachusetts">Mass.</abbr><br> + Paper Manufactured by<br> + <abbr>S. D.</abbr> Warren <abbr title="Company">Co.</abbr>,<br> + Boston + </p> + + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div class="full-page-img"> + <img src="images/letter.svg" alt="A letter written in a cypher, with drawings replacing letters."> + </div> + + <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + <div class="transnote" id="transcribers-notes"> + <header> + <p>Transcriber’s Notes</p> + </header> + + <ul> + <li>Clear typos and wrong punctuation were corrected.</li> + <li>Footnotes have been renumbered and moved to the end + of their sections.</li> + <li>In the original publication, some images span more than one page. + For this production they were united into a single image.</li> + <li>New original cover art included with this eBook + is granted to the public domain.</li> + <li>Odd pages in the text have running headers which were + changed to sidenotes in this production. These are + often in the middle of paragraphs and were moved to + between paragraphs in order to not introduce unnecessary breaks.</li> + <li>This book contains a small snippet of music. The musical notation was + created based on the original image and is granted to the public domain.</li> + <li>Towards the end of the text, there is a letter with + several grammar and spelling mistakes. The original + text was maintained, since it is an artistic decision + by the author.</li> + </ul> + </div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77795 ***</div> +</body> + +</html>
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