Abbott Jacob
Bruno
Tony’s difficulties.
The poor boy now began to feel more guilty and more wretched than ever before. He was not really more guilty, though he felt his guilt far more acutely than he had done when every thing was going well with him. This is always so. The feeling of self-condemnation is not generally the strongest at the time when we are doing the wrong. It becomes far more acute and far more painful when we begin to experience the bitter consequences which we bring upon ourselves by the transgression. Tony hurried along wherever he could find a path which promised to lead him to the gateway, breathless with fatigue and excitement, and with his face flushed and full of anxiety. He was in great distress.
He stopped from time to time, to call aloud to his father and to Thomas. He was now as anxious that they should find him as he had been before to escape from them. He listened, in the hope that he might hear the barking of Bruno, or some other sound that might help him to find his way out of the woods.
He is misled by various sounds.
Once he actually heard a sound among the trees, at some distance from him. He thought that it was some one working in the woods. He went eagerly in the direction from which the sound proceeded, scrambling, by the way, over the rocks and brambles, and leaping from hummock to hummock in crossing bogs and mire. When at length he reached the place, he found that the noise was nothing but one tree creaking against another in the wind.
At another time, he followed a sound which appeared different from this; when he came up to it, he found it to be a woodpecker tapping an old hollow tree.
Tony at the brook.
Tony wandered about thus in the wood nearly all the day, and at length, about the middle of the afternoon, he became so exhausted with fatigue, anxiety, and hunger, that he could go no farther. He was very thirsty too, for he could find no water. He began to fear that he should die in the woods of starvation and thirst. At length, however, a short time before the sun went down, he came, to his great joy, to a stream of water. It was wide and deep, so that he could not cross it. He, however, went down to the brink of the water, and got a good drink. This refreshed him very much, and then he went back again up the bank, and lay down upon the grass there to rest.
Cows in the water.
Presently two cows came down to the water, on the side opposite to where Tony was sitting. They came to drink. Tony wished very much that they would come over to his side of the water, so that he could get some milk from them. If he could get a good drink of milk from them, he thought it would restore his strength, so that he could make one more effort to return home. He called the cows, and endeavored, by every means in his power, to make them come through the water to his side. One of them waded into the water a little way, and stood there staring stupidly at Tony, but she would not come any farther.
Then Tony thought of attempting to wade across the water to the cows, but he was afraid that it might be very deep, and that he should get drowned. He thought, too, that if he could contrive in any way to get near the cows, there would still be a difficulty in getting a drink of their milk, for he had no cup or mug to milk into. He wondered whether or not it would be possible for him to get down under one of the cows and milk into his mouth. He soon found, however, that it was of no use to consider this question, for it was not possible for him to get near the cows at all.
Then he reflected how many times his mother, in the evenings at home, when the cows were milked, had brought him drinks of the milk in a cup or mug, very convenient to drink out of, and how many long and weary days his father had worked in the fields, mowing grass to feed the cows, and in the barns in the winter, to take care of them, so as to provide the means of giving his boy this rich and luxurious food; and he felt how ungrateful he had been, in not being willing to aid his father in his work, when opportunities offered to him to be useful.
Good resolutions.
“If I ever get home,” said he to himself, “I’ll be a better boy.”
Here comes Bruno.
Just then Tony heard a noise in the bushes behind him. At first he was startled, as most people are, at hearing suddenly a noise in the woods. Immediately afterward, however, he felt glad, as he hoped that the noise was made by some one coming. He had scarcely time to look around before Bruno came rushing through the bushes, and, with a single bound, came to Tony’s feet. He leaped up upon him, wagging his tail most energetically, and in other ways manifesting the most extraordinary joy.
Bruno leads the way through the woods.
In a minute or two he began to walk away again into the woods, looking behind him toward Tony, intimating that Tony was to follow him. Tony slowly rose from his place, and attempted to go.
“Yes, Bruno,” said he, “I know. You are going to show me the way home. I’ll come along as fast as I can.”
Tony soon found, however, that he could not come very fast. In fact, he was almost exhausted by fatigue and hunger, and he had now little strength remaining. He accordingly staggered rather than walked in attempting to follow Bruno, and he was obliged frequently to stop and rest. On such occasions Bruno would come back and fawn around him, wagging his tail, and expressing his sympathy in such other ways as a dog has at command, and would finally lie down quietly by Tony’s side until the poor boy was ready to proceed again. Then he would go forward, and lead the way as before.
It is very extraordinary that a dog can find his way through the woods under certain circumstances so much better than a boy, or even than a man. But so it is; for, though so greatly inferior to a boy in respect to the faculties of speech and reason, he is greatly superior to him in certain instincts, granted to him by the Creator to fit him for the life which he was originally designed to lead as a wild animal. It was by means of these instincts that Bruno found Tony.
The various expeditions in search of Tony.
Bruno had commenced his search about the middle of the afternoon. It was not until some time after dinner that the family began to be uneasy about Tony’s absence. During all the forenoon they supposed that he had gone away somewhere a fishing or to play, and that he would certainly come home to dinner. When, however, the dinner hour, which was twelve o’clock, arrived, and Tony did not appear, they began to wonder what had become of him. So, after dinner, they sent Thomas down behind the garden, and to the brook, and to all the other places where they knew that Tony was accustomed to go, to see if he could find him. Thomas went to all those places, and not only looked to see whether Tony was there, but he called also very loud, and listened long after every calling for an answer. But he could neither see nor hear any thing of the lost boy.
Bruno’s search.
Then Tony’s mother began to be very seriously alarmed, and his father, too, determined to leave his work, and go and see if he could find him. He accordingly sent Thomas one way, while he himself went another. Bruno watched all these movements with great interest. He understood what they meant. He determined to see what he could do. He accordingly ran out into the garden, where he had seen Tony go after breakfast in the morning. He smelled about there in all the paths until at length he found Tony’s track. He followed this track to the seat in the arbor, where Tony had gone to get his fishing-line. Taking a new departure from this point, he went on, smelling the track along the paths as he advanced, to the bottom of the garden, thence into a wood behind the garden, thence along the road till he came to the gate under the trees where Tony had gone in.
He finds Tony’s cap and fishing-pole.
By smelling about this gate, he ascertained that Tony did not open the gate, but that he crept through between the bars on the left-hand side of it. Bruno did the same. He then followed the track of Tony in the solitary woods until he came to the brook where Tony had been fishing. Here, to his great astonishment, he found Tony’s cap and fishing-pole lying by the margin of the water.
What this could mean he was utterly unable to imagine. The sight of these things, however, only increased his interest in the search for Tony. He soon found the track again, and he followed it along by the side of the bog, and to the great rock, and by the old trees. What could have induced Tony to leave his cap and pole by the brook, and go scrambling through the bushes in this devious way, he could not imagine, not knowing, of course, any thing about the squirrel.
He, however, proceeded very industriously in the search, following the scent which Tony’s footsteps had left on the leaves and grass wherever he had gone, until at length, to his great joy, he came up with the object of his search by the brink of the water, as has already been described.
Tony had gone but a short distance from the place where Bruno had discovered him, before he found his strength failing him so rapidly that he was obliged to make his rests longer and longer. At one of these stops, Bruno, instead of waiting by his side, as he had done before, until Tony had become sufficiently rested to go on, ran off through the bushes and left him.
“Now, Bruno!” said Tony, in a mournful tone, “if you go away and leave me, I don’t know what I shall do.”
The cap restored.
Bruno was gone about five minutes, at the end of which time he came back, bringing Tony’s cap in his mouth. He had been to the brook to get it.
Tony was overjoyed to see Bruno again, and he was, moreover, particularly pleased to get his cap again.
So he took his cap and put it on, patting Bruno’s head at the same time, and commending him in a very cordial manner.
“I am very much obliged to you, Bruno,” said he, “for bringing me my cap —
very much obliged indeed. The cap is all I care for; never mind about the fishing-pole.”
Bruno returns home.
Tony spoke these words very feebly, for he was very tired and faint. Bruno perceived that he was not able to go on; so, after remaining by his side a few minutes, he ran off again into the bushes and disappeared.
“Now he has gone to bring the fishing-pole, I suppose,” said Tony. “I wish he would not go for that; I would rather have him stay here with me.”
His strange conduct.
Tony was mistaken in his supposition that Bruno had gone for the fishing-pole; for, instead of going to the brook again, where he had found the cap, he ran as fast as he could toward home. His object was to see if he could not get some thing for Tony to eat. As soon as he arrived at the house, he went to the farmer’s wife, who was all this time walking about the rooms of the house in great distress of mind, and waiting anxiously to hear some news of those who were in search of Tony, and began to pull her by her dress toward the place in the kitchen where the tin pail was kept, in which she was accustomed to put the farmer’s dinner. At first she could not understand what he wanted.
“My senses!” said she, “what does the dog mean?”
“Bruno!” said she again, after wondering a moment, “what do you want?”
Bruno looked up toward the pail and whined piteously, wagging his tail all the time, and moving about with eager impatience.
He succeeds in obtaining a dinner for Tony.
At length the farmer’s wife took hold of the pail, and, as soon as she had done so, Bruno ran off toward the closet where the food was kept, which she was accustomed to put into the pail for her husband’s dinner. He took his station by the door, and waited there, as he had been accustomed to do, looking up eagerly all the time to Tony’s mother, who was slowly following him.
“I verily believe,” said she, joyfully, “that Bruno has found Tony, and is going to carry him something to eat.”
She immediately went into the closet, and filled the pail up, in a very hurried manner, with something for Tony to eat, taking care not to put in so much as to make the pail too heavy. As soon as she had done this, and put on a cover, and then set the pail down upon the floor, Bruno immediately took it up by means of the handle, and ran off with it. Tony’s mother followed him, but she could not keep up with him, and was soon obliged to relinquish the pursuit.
Bruno had some difficulty in getting over the fences and through the bars with his burden, as he went on toward the place where he had left Tony. He, however, persevered in his efforts, and finally succeeded; and at length had the satisfaction of bringing the pail safely, and laying it down at Tony’s feet. Tony, who was by this time extremely hungry, as well as faint and exhausted by fatigue, was overjoyed at receiving this unexpected supply. He opened the pail, and found there every thing which he required. There was a supply of bread and butter in slices, with ham, sandwich fashion, placed between. At the bottom of the pail, too, was a small bottle filled with milk.
He conducts Tony home, and goes back for the fishing-pole.
After eating and drinking what Bruno had thus brought him, Tony felt greatly relieved and strengthened. He now could walk along, where Bruno led the way, without stopping to rest at all. So the boy and the dog went on together, until they safely reached the bottom of the garden. Here they were met by Tony’s mother, who was almost beside herself with joy when she saw them coming. She ran to meet Tony, and conducted him into the house, while Bruno, as soon as he found that his charge was safe, turned back, and, without waiting to be thanked, ran off into the woods again.
And where do you think he was going, reader?
He was going to get Tony’s fishing-pole.
Tony’s mother brought her boy into the house, and, after she had bathed his face, and his hands, and his feet with warm water to refresh and soothe him, agitated as he was by his anxiety and terror, she gave him a comfortable seat by the side of the kitchen fire, while she went to work to get ready the supper. As soon as Tony had arrived, she blew the horn at the door, which was the signal which had been previously agreed upon to denote that he was found. Thomas and Tony’s father heard this sound as they were wandering about in the woods, and both joyfully hastened home. Tony, in the mean time, dreaded his father’s return. He expected to be bitterly reproached by him for what he had done. He was, however, happily disappointed in this expectation. His father did not reproach him. He thought he had already been punished enough; and besides, he was so glad to have his son home again, safe and sound, that he had not the heart to say a word to give him any additional pain.
Bruno lies down to sleep.
Bruno himself came home about the same time that Thomas did, bringing the fishing-pole and line with him. The apparatus was all safe, except that the hook was gone. It had got torn off by catching against the bushes on the way. Bruno brought the pole and line to Tony. Tony took them, and when he had wound up the line, he set the pole up in the corner, while Bruno stretched himself out before the fire, and there, with his mind in a state of great satisfaction, in view of what he had done, he prepared to go to sleep. The bright fire glanced upon the hearth and about the room, forming a very cheerful and pleasant scene.
Tony’s reflections.
How shameful it is, thought Tony, as he looked upon Bruno by the fire, that while a dog can be so faithful, and seem to take so much pride and pleasure in doing his duty, and in making himself as useful in every way as he possibly can, a boy, whose power and opportunities are so much superior to his, should be faithless and negligent, and try to contrive ways and means to evade his proper work. You have taught me a lesson, Bruno. You have set me an example. We will see whether, after this, I will allow myself to be beaten in fidelity and gratitude by a dog.
This story reminds me of another one about a boy named Antonio, who got away from home, and was in trouble to get back, though the circumstances were very different from those which I have just related. The name of this new story is “Boys Adrift.”
BOYS ADRIFT
Boys are generally greatly pleased with seeing ships and the water. In fact, the view of a harbor, filled with boats and shipping, forms usually for all persons, old as well as young, a very attractive scene.
There was once a boy named Antonio Van Tromp. They commonly called him Antony. Sometimes they called him Van Tromp. He lived in a certain sea-port town, where his father used to come in with a ship from sea. His father was captain of the ship. Antonio used to be very fond of going down to the pier while his father’s ship was unloading. One day he persuaded his cousin, who was several years younger than himself, to go down with him.
Antonio and his cousin amuse themselves on the pier.
The boys played about upon the pier for an hour very happily. The seamen and laborers were unloading the ship, and there were a great many boxes, and bales, and hogsheads, and other packages of merchandise lying upon the pier. There were porters at work carrying the goods away, and sailors rolling hogsheads and barrels to and fro. There was an anchor on the pier, and weights, and chains, and trucks, and other similar objects lying around. The boys amused themselves for some time in jumping about upon these things. At length, on looking down over the edge of the pier, they saw that there was a boat there. It was fastened by means of a rope to one of the links of an enormous chain, which was lying over the edge of the pier. On seeing this boat, they conceived the idea of getting into it, and rowing about a little in the neighborhood of the pier.
The boat.
There were no oars in the boat, and so Van Tromp asked a sailor, whom he saw at work near, to go and get them for him on board the ship.
Conversation with the sailor.
“Not I,” said the sailor.
“Why not?” asked Van Tromp.
“It is ebb tide,” said the sailor, “and if you two boys cast off from the pier in that boat, you will get carried out to sea.”
“Why, I can scull,” said Van Tromp.
“Oh no,” said the sailor.
“At least I can pull,” said Van Tromp.
“Oh no,” said the sailor.
The boys stood perplexed, not knowing what to do.
All along the shores of the sea the tide rises for six hours, and while it is thus rising, the water, of course, wherever there are harbors, creeks, and bays, flows in. Afterward the tide falls for six hours, and while it is falling, the water of the harbors, creeks, and bays flows out. When the water is going out, they call it ebb tide. That is what the sailor meant by saying it was ebb tide.
Sculling and pulling.
Sculling is a mode of propelling a boat by one oar. The oar in this case is put out behind the boat, that is, at the stern, and is moved to and fro in a peculiar manner, somewhat resembling the motion of the tail of a fish when he is swimming through the water. It is difficult to learn how to scull. Antony could scull pretty well in smooth water, but he could not have worked his way in this manner against an ebb tide.
Pulling, as Antony called it, is another name for rowing. In rowing, it is necessary to have two oars. To row a boat requires more strength, though less skill, than to scull it.
The boys, after hesitating for some time, finally concluded at least to get into the boat. They had unfastened the painter, that is, the rope by which the boat was tied, while they had been talking with the sailor, in order to be all ready to cast off. When they found that the sailor would not bring them any oars, they fastened the painter again, so that the boat should not get away, and then climbed down the side of the pier, and got into the boat.
The boat adrift.
Unfortunately, when, after untying the painter, they attempted to make it fast again into the link of the chain, they did not do it securely; and as they moved to and fro about the boat, pushing it one way and another, the rope finally got loose, and the boat floated slowly away from the pier. The boys were engaged very intently at the time in watching some sun-fish which they saw in the water. They were leaning over the side of the boat to look at them, so that they did not see the pier when it began to recede, and thus the tide carried them to a considerable distance from it before they observed that they were adrift.
At length Larry – for that was the name of Antony’s cousin – looking up accidentally, observed that the boat was moving away.
“Antony! Antony!” exclaimed, he, “we’re adrift.”
As he said this, Larry looked very much terrified.
Antony rose from his reclining position, and stood upright in the bottom of the boat. He looked back toward the pier, which he observed was rapidly receding.
Adrift.
“Yes,” said he, “we’re adrift; but who cares?”
When a boy gets into difficulty or danger by doing something wrong, he is generally very much frightened. When, however, he knows that he has not been doing any thing wrong, but has got into difficulty purely by accident, he is much less likely to be afraid.
Antony knew that he had done nothing wrong in getting into the boat. His father was a sea-captain, and he was allowed to get into boats whenever he chose to do so. He was accustomed, too, to be in boats on the water, and now, if he had only had an oar or a paddle, he would not have felt any concern whatever. As it was, he felt very little concern.
His first thought was to call out to the sailor whom they had left on the pier. The boys both called to him long and loud, but he was so busy turning over boxes, and bales, and rolling hogsheads about, that he did not hear.
“What shall we do?” asked Larry, with a very anxious look.
The sail-boat.
“Oh, we shall get ashore again easily enough,” replied Antony. “Here is a large sail-boat coming up. We will hail them, and they will take us aboard.”
“Do you think they will take us on board?” asked Larry.
“Yes, I am sure they will,” said Antony.
Just then the boat which the boys were drifting in came along opposite to a large sail-boat. This boat was sloop-rigged; that is, it had one mast and a fore-and-aft sail. She was standing up the harbor, and was headed toward the pier. The sail was spread, and the sail-boat was gliding along smoothly, but quite swiftly, through the water.
There were two men on board. One was at the helm, steering. The other, who had on a red flannel shirt, came to the side of the boat, and looked over toward the boys. We can just see the head of this man above the gunwale on the starboard side of the boat in the picture.
Antony calls for help. He receives none.
“Hallo! sail-boat!” said Antony.
“Hallo!” said the flannel shirt.
“Take us aboard of your boat,” said Antony; “we have got adrift, and have not got any oar.”
“We can’t take you on board,” said the man; “we have got beyond you already.”
“Throw us a rope,” said Antony.
“We have not got any rope long enough,” said the sailor.
As he said these words, the sail-boat passed entirely by.
“What shall we do?” said Larry, much alarmed.
Larry was much smaller than Antony, and much less accustomed to be in boats on the water, and he was much more easily terrified.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Antony; “we shall get brought up among some of the shipping below. There are plenty of vessels coming up the harbor.”
The boys float down the channel.
So they went on – slowly, but very steadily – wherever they were borne by the course of the ebbing tide. Instead of being brought up, however, as Antony had predicted, by some of the ships, they were kept by the tide in the middle of the channel, while the ships were all, as it happened, on one side or the other, and they did not go within calling distance of any one of them. At last even Antony began to think that they were certainly about to be carried out to sea.
“If the water was not so deep, we could anchor,” said Antony.
“We have not got any anchor,” said Larry.
The grapnel.
“Yes,” replied Antony, “there is a grapnel in the bow of the boat.”
Larry looked in a small cuddy under the bow of the boat, and found there a sort of grapnel that was intended to be used as an anchor.
“Let us heave it over,” said Larry, “and then the boat will stop.”
“No,” replied Antony, “the rope is not long enough to reach the bottom; the water is too deep here. We are in the middle of the channel; but perhaps, by-and-by, the tide will carry us over upon the flats, and then we can anchor.”
“How shall we know when we get to the flats?” asked Larry.
“We can see the bottom then,” said Antony, “by looking over the side of the boat.”
“I mean to watch,” said Larry; and he began forthwith to look over the side of the boat.
They see the bottom.
It was not long before Antony’s expectations were fulfilled. The tide carried the boat over a place where the water was shallow, the bottom being formed there of broad and level tracts of sand and mud, called flats.
“I see the bottom,” said Larry, joyfully.
Antony looked over the side of the boat, and there, down several feet beneath the surface of the water, he could clearly distinguish the bottom. It was a smooth expanse of mud and water, and it seemed to be slowly gliding away from beneath them. The real motion was in the boat, but this motion was imperceptible to the boys, except by the apparent motion of the bottom, which was produced by it. Such a deceiving of the sight as this is commonly called an optical illusion.
“Yes,” said Antony, “that’s the bottom; now we will anchor.”
Anchoring.
So the two boys went forward, and, after taking care to see that the inner end of the grapnel rope was made fast properly to the bow of the boat, they lifted the heavy iron over the side of the boat, and let it plunge into the water. It sank to the bottom in a moment, drawing out the rope after it. It immediately fastened itself by its prongs in the mud, and when the rope was all out, the bow of the boat was “brought up” by it – that is, was stopped at once. The stern of the boat was swung round by the force of the tide, which still continued to act upon it, and then the boat came to its rest, with the head pointing up the harbor.
“There,” said Antony, “now we are safe.”
“But how are we going to get back to the shore?” inquired Larry.
The boys wait for the tide.
“Why, by-and-by the tide will turn,” said Antony, “and flow in, and then we shall get up our anchor, and let it carry us home again.”
“And how long shall we have to wait?” asked Larry.
“Oh, about three or four hours,” said Antony.
“My mother will be very much frightened,” said Larry. “How sorry I am that we got into the boat!”
“So am I,” said Antony; “or, rather, I should be, if I thought it would do any good to be sorry.”
Captain Van Tromp misses them.
In the mean time, while the boys had thus been making their involuntary voyage down the harbor, Captain Van Tromp, on board his ship, had been employed very busily with his accounts in his cabin. It was now nearly noon, and he concluded, accordingly, that it was time for him to go home to dinner. So he called one of the sailors to him, and directed him to look about on the pier and try to find the boys, and tell them that he was going home to dinner.
In a few minutes the sailor came back, and told the captain that he could not find the boys; and that Jack, who was at work outside on the pier, said that they had not been seen about there for more than an hour, and that the boat was missing too; and he was afraid that they had got into it, and had gone adrift.
“Send Jack to me,” said the captain.
When Jack came into the cabin, the captain was at work, as usual, on his accounts. Jack stood by his side a moment, with his cap in his hand, waiting for the captain to be at leisure to speak to him. At length the captain looked up.
“Jack,” said he, “do you say that the boys have gone off with the boat?”
“I don’t know, sir,” said Jack. “The boat is gone, and the boys are gone, but whether the boat has gone off with the boys, or the boys with the boat, I couldn’t say.”
The captain paused a moment, with a thoughtful expression upon his countenance, and then said,
“Tell Nelson to take the glass, and go aloft, and look around to see if he can see any thing of them.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Jack.
The captain then resumed his work as if nothing particular had happened.
Mr. Nelson discovers them by means of his spy-glass.
Nelson was the mate of the ship. The mate is the second in command under the captain.
When Nelson received the captain’s order, he took the spy-glass, and went up the shrouds to the mast-head. In about ten minutes he came down again, and gave Jack a message for the captain. Jack came down again into the cabin. He found the captain, as before, busy at his work. The captain had been exposed to too many great and terrible dangers at sea to be much alarmed at the idea of two boys being adrift, in a strong boat and in a crowded harbor.
“Mr. Nelson says, sir,” said Jack, “that he sees our boat, with two boys in it, about a mile and a half down the harbor. She is lying a little to the eastward of the red buoy.”
A buoy is a floating beam of wood, or other light substance, anchored on the point of a shoal, or over a ledge of rocks, to warn the seamen that they must not sail there. The different buoys are painted of different colors, so that they may be easily distinguished one from another.
The captain paused a moment on hearing Jack’s report, and looked undecided. In fact, his attention was so much occupied by his accounts, that only half his thoughts seemed to be given to the case of the boys. At length he asked if there was any wind.
“Not a capful,” said the sailor.
“Tell Nelson, then,” said the captain, “to send down the gig with four men, and bring the boys back.”
The gig.
The gig, as the captain called it, was a light boat belonging to the ship, being intended for rowing swiftly in smooth water.
Nelson fits out an expedition to relieve the boys.
So Nelson called out four men, and directed them to get ready with the gig. The men accordingly lowered the gig down from the side of the ship into the water, and then, with the oars in their hands, they climbed down into it. In a few minutes they were rowing swiftly down the harbor, in the direction of the red buoy, while Captain Van Tromp went home to dinner. On his way home he left word, at the house where Larry lived, that the boys had gone down the harbor, and would not be home under an hour.
