Goulding Francis Robert
The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast
CHAPTER XXXV
HOUSEHOLD ARRANGEMENTS-THIRD VISIT TO THE WRECK-RAINY WEATHER-AGREEMENT ABOUT WORK-MARY IN GREAT DANGER-EXTINGUISHING FIRE ON ONE'S DRESS-RELIEF TO A BURN-CONVERSATION
They did not return to the vessel the next day. The work of transporting the many heavy articles brought, and of giving them accommodation, occupied the whole day. Indeed, the work of arranging was by no means easy, for their possessions were now too large for their dwelling. They were therefore compelled to make a new room for Sam and his tools, by means of some spare sails brought from the wreck; and this led them to think of erecting still another wing to the tent, as a place of deposit for their stores of provision.
By Thursday the return tide came at so late an hour in the afternoon, that the boys were loth to go upon the third trip; but there were several other articles of importance that they needed, and intending to make a short visit, they did not start until near mid-day. On entering the vessel their first work was to remove the stove; which being quite new and recently put up, they had no difficulty in taking to pieces, and lowering, with its appurtenances, into the raft. The work-bench they detached, with great labour, from the wall, and tumbled it over the vessel's side. From the carpenter's room they carried several sails, two coils of small rope, and a hank of twine. The magazine they did not care to enter. Most of the powder in the gunner's room was wet, but there were two large kegs of cannon powder, the outside of which was caked and ruined, while the central part was perfectly good, and also a five pound canister of superfine rifle powder, which was so tightly sealed that not a particle of damp had entered. These they took. And dragging out one of the small cannon they managed, after hard work, to lower it, with its appropriate carriage, into the raft, and deposited along with it several dozen balls, and as many canisters to fit the bore. These, together with the trunks and clothing of the officers, the iron vice, a small kit of mackerel, and the box of cocoanuts, constituted their load. The voyage back was made without accident.
On landing, their first business was to shelter their powder, for the sky was clouding fast, with long blue belts, that promised rain before morning, and the night was rapidly coming on. Unwilling to keep so dangerous a quantity of powder in the tent, they divided it into several parcels, and concealed them in hollow trees, which they closed and marked.
The cannon carriage proved a great convenience in transporting the trunks, the disjointed parts of the stove, and other heavy articles to the tent. But even with this assistance they did not complete their work before the night set in.
The next day was wet-wet-wet. The young people continued within doors, made a particular examination of the trunks, and divided among themselves the articles that were serviceable. With these employments, and the fitting up of their stove, they spent all that day, and part of the next.
It was during that evening, as they sat listening to the incessant patter of the rain upon the canvas roof, that the boys conceived and resolved upon a species of competition, that gave a steady progression to their work from that time forward.
"Tomorrow is New Year's Day," observed Harold. "We have been two months and a half upon the island. Our first boat is not a quarter finished. Why, Robert, it will be six months before we get away by our own exertions; and then your father will have left Bellevue."
"But you forget how many interruptions we have had," replied Robert. "First, there was Sam's misfortune, then yours; after that, our removal to the prairie, and securing the tent; then this discovery of the wreck, which has furnished us with food and tools for continuing our work without interruption. If I am not mistaken, the end of January will see us at Bellevue, or on our way there. What do you think, Sam-can we finish our two boats in a month?"
"May be so, massa, if we work mighty hard; but it will take a heap o' work."
"I doubt if we finish them in two months, work as we may," remarked Harold.
Robert was not pleased with this discouraging assertion, though he was startled to find that the usual prudent Harold entertained such an opinion.
"Now, cousin," said he, "I will put this matter to the test. As we boys used to say, I'll make a bargain with you. We shall all work on the second boat, until it is as far advanced as the present one. Then we shall each take a boat and work. Sam shall divide his time between us. And if at the end of a month we are not ready to return home, I'll give up that I am mistaken."
"Give me your hand to that bargain," said Harold. "You shall not beat me working, if I can help it; but if, with all our efforts, we leave this island before the last day of February, I will give up that I am mistaken."
Faithful to this agreement, the boys went next morning to the landing, and brought the various parts of the work-bench, which they aided Sam in fitting up. The grindstone also they set upon its necessary fixtures; and collecting the various tools that were in need of grinding, they persisted in relieving each other at the crank, until they had sharpened two very dull axes, two adzes, three chisels, a broad ax, and a drawing knife, and stowed them safely under Sam's shelter.
The history of the day, however, was not concluded without an incident of a very serious character, in which Mary was the principal, though unwilling actress; and in which, but for her presence of mind, she would have met with a painful and terrible death.
About ten o'clock that night she retired to her room, undressed, and was laying aside the articles of dress necessary for the next morning, when, turning around, her night clothes touched the flame of the candle, which, for the want of a table, she had set upon the floor. The next instant she extinguished the candle, and was about stepping into bed, when her attention was excited by a dim light shining behind her, and a slight roar, that increased as the flame ran up her back. Giving a scream of terror, she was on the point of rushing into the next room for help, when recollecting the repeated and earnest injunctions of her father, she threw herself flat upon the blanket of the bed, and wrapping it tightly round her, rolled over and over upon the floor, calling for help. The flame was almost instantly quenched, as it probably would have been, even without a blanket, had she only sat down instantly on the floor, and folded the other part of her dress tightly over the flame.16
But though the flame was extinguished, the charred ends of the dress were not; they kept on burning, and coming into contact with the naked skin, made her scream with pain. The agony was so great, that again she was almost tempted to throw off the blanket and rush into the open air, but knowing that this would certainly increase the fire, and perhaps renew the blaze, she drew the blanket more tightly around her, and rolled over, calling to Robert, who had by this time come to her assistance. "Pour on water-water-WATER!" Robert did his best-he fumbled about for the pitcher, then finding it, asked where the water was to be poured; but now that the water was ready to be thrown upon her, Mary felt secure; she cast off the blanket, and the remaining fire was put out by the application of Robert's wet hand.
The time occupied by this terrifying scene was scarcely a minute and a half, yet Mary's night dress was consumed nearly to her shoulders, and her lower limbs were badly scorched. So rapid an agent is fire. Whoever would escape destruction from a burning dress, must work fast, with good judgment and a strong resolution.
Mary's burns were slight in comparison with what they might have been. The skin was reddened for a foot or more along each limb; but it was broken only in two places, about as wide and long as her two fingers. Still the pain was excessive, and she wept and groaned a great deal. Robert applied cold water for a number of minutes, and would have continued it longer, but Mary at last said:
"Bring me a cup full of flour. I have tried it on a burnt finger, and you can scarcely imagine how cooling it is."
The flour was brought, and applied by means of handkerchiefs tied over the raw and blistered parts. Its effect was to form a sort of artificial cuticle over those spots where the skin had been removed; and the soft and cool sensation it produced in the other parts was delightful. Still Mary appeared to suffer so much, that Robert administered an opiate, as he did in the case of Sam, and after that he heard no more from her until next morning.
"What a quick, brave girl she is!" said Harold, after Robert had described the scene. "Most girls would have rushed into the open air, and been burned to death."
"She showed great presence of mind," Robert assented.
"More than that," said Harold, "she showed great resolution. I knew a beautiful girl at school, who had presence of mind enough to wrap herself in the hearth rug, but who could not stand the pain of the fire; she threw off the rug, rushed into the open air, screaming for help, and was burnt to death in less than two minutes."
When Mary came from her room next morning her eyes were dull and glassy, from the effects of the medicine, and she had no appetite for more than a cup of coffee. The others met her with more than their usual affection. Her accident had revealed to them how much they loved her; and her coolness in danger, and fortitude in suffering, had given them a greater respect for her character.
"We do sincerely thank God, on your account, cousin," said Harold, as soon as they were left alone that Sabbath morning. "It is so seldom a person meets with such an accident, without being seriously injured."
"I hope I feel thankful, too," returned Mary. "I could not help thinking last night, before going to sleep, how uncertain life is. O, I do wish I were a Christian, as I believe you to be, cousin."
"Indeed, if I am a Christian at all, I wish you were a far better one," he replied. "I have neither felt nor acted as I desired, or supposed I should."
"But still you feel and act very differently from us."
"My feelings are certainly very different from what they used to be, and I thank God that they are. Yet the only particular thing which I recollect of myself, at the time that I began to feel differently, is that I was troubled on account of my past life, and wished heartily to serve God. To judge from myself, then, I should say that to desire to serve God, is to be a Christian."
"O, I do desire," said Mary, weeping. "I do, with all my heart. But I know I am not what I ought to be. I do not love God; I do not trust him; I do not feel troubled for sin, as I ought to be; and I have no reason to think that my sins are forgiven."
"I am a poor preacher, Mary," Harold said, with strong emotion; "for I never knew anything of these feelings myself, until lately. But this I can say, that if you will heartily give yourself to God, to be his servant for ever, and put your trust in his promises, you will be accepted. Did not Jesus Christ come into this world to save sinners, even the chief? Does he not say, 'Him that cometh to me, I will in nowise cast out'? Now what does the Bible mean, but to encourage all who feel as you do?"
Mary did not reply; the tears burst through her fingers, and dropped into her lap. Harold continued,
"Ever since we came to the island I felt as you feel, until the Sabbath when I knelt down in the woods, and gave myself to the Lord. My heart was very heavy; I knew that I was a sinner needing forgiveness, and that I had nothing that I could offer as pay; but I read where God offers salvation 'without money and without price,' and again where he says we must 'believe on him.' Well, after all that, I could not help believing; it was sweet to pray-sweet to think of God-sweet to read the Bible-sweet to do whatever was pleasing to Him. I hope it will be so always; and I long for the time when I can return to Bellevue to talk with your father about these things. Now, cousin, I advise you to try the same plan."
He marked several passages of Scripture for her to read; then walked into the woods, where he prayed that the Lord would direct her, so as to find peace by believing in Jesus Christ.
CHAPTER XXXVI
SUCCESSFUL WORK-EXCURSION-THE FISH-EAGLE-DIFFERENT METHODS OF PROCURING FIRE-WOODSMAN'S SHELTER AGAINST RAIN AND HAIL-NOVEL REFUGE FROM FALLING TREES
Monday morning found the labourers moving at the dawn of day. Sam was cook, and fulfilled his office with unexpected ability. His corn-bread was delightful; no one but a negro knows how to make it.
The tools were in excellent order, and the boys commenced work in fine spirits. At Harold's suggestion they resolved to work very leisurely that day and the next, as being the surest way to attain expedition in the end. Said he,
"My father was a great manager of horses, and sometimes made tremendous journeys. But his rule was always to begin a long journey very moderately. He used to say, 'If you strain a horse at the first, he will move heavily all the way through, but if you spare him at first, he will become gradually accustomed to the strain, and be able to push on faster at the end than at the beginning of the journey!' Now, as we are the horses, I think we had better make very moderate journeys today and tomorrow."
Robert was much pleased with the rule. Notwithstanding his boast, he had shuddered at the idea of blistered hands and weary limbs; but this plan enabled him to anticipate fresh feelings, and even increasing labour, so long as they chose to work.
In the course of four days the second tree was cut, hewed, and excavated to the exact shape and size of the first. They then drew for choices, and separated, each working on his own boat, within hearing of the other's ax and mallet. One reason, perhaps, of the increased rapidity of their work, was a lesson which they learned of employing every moment to advantage, and of resting themselves by a mere change of work. For instance, when weary of the adze they would resort to the mallet and chisel, the auger, ax, or drawing-knife, and this was to some extent a real rest, for fresh muscles were brought into play while the wearied ones were relieved.
By Friday, however, their whole bodies began to feel the effects of fatigue; and Harold proposed, that for that day their arms should be entirely relieved from labour, and that they should search the woods for timber suitable for masts, yards, and oars. They, therefore, took their guns and hatchets, and went first to the orange landing, where they saw their old raft lying as they had left it exactly a month before. Passing thence to the place which they had dubbed "Duck Point," they proceeded along the beach towards their old encampment, and thence home. This was their route; but it was marked by such a variety of useful expedients, that we must stop to describe them.
While Robert was engaged for a few minutes in searching a little grove, Harold saw a fish eagle plunge into the water, and bring out a trout so large that it could scarcely fly with it to the shore. Harold was hungry; his appetite at breakfast had not allowed him to eat at all. Now it began to crave, and the sight of that rich looking fish whetted it, keenly. He ran towards the eagle, crying out,
"I'll divide with you, old gentleman, if you please; that is too much for one."
The eagle, however, appeared to dissent from the proposal, and tried hard to carry its prey into a tree, but apprehensive of being itself caught before it could rise beyond reach, it dropped the fish, and flying to a neighbouring tree, watched patiently to see what share its human robber was disposed to leave.
A fish is easily enough cooked, if a person has fire; but in this case there was none, and what was worse, no apparent means of producing it, for their matches were left behind, and the wadding of their guns was not of a kind to receive and hold fire from the powder.
"Lend me your watch a minute," said Robert, on learning what was wanted. "It is possible that I may obtain from it what you wish."
Had Robert spoken of some chemical combination for producing fire, by mixing sand and sea-water, Harold could scarcely have been more surprised than by the proposal to obtain fire from his watch. He handed it to his cousin with the simple remark, "Please don't hurt it," and looked on with curiosity. Robert examined the convex surface of the crystal, which being old fashioned, was almost the section of a sphere, and said,
"I think it will do."
Then obtaining some dry, rotten wood from a decayed tree, he filled the hollow part of the crystal with water, and setting it upon a support, for the purpose of keeping the water perfectly steady, showed Harold that the rays of the sun passing through this temporary lens, were concentrated as by a sun-glass. The tinder smoked, and seemed almost ready to ignite, but did not quite-the sun's rays were too much aslant at that hour of the day, and the sky was moreover covered with a thin film of mist.
"It is a failure," said he, "but still there is another plan which I have seen adopted-a spark of fire squeezed from the air by suddenly compressing it in a syringe. If we had a dry reed, the size of this gun barrel, I would try it by using a tight plug of gun wadding as a piston."
But Robert had no opportunity for trying his philosophical experiment, and being mortified by a second disappointment, as he probably would have been, from the rudeness of the contrivance; for Harold's voice was soon heard from the bank above, "I have it now!" and when Robert approached he saw in his hand a white flint arrowhead. With this old Indian relic he showered a plentiful supply of sparks upon the dry touch-wood, until a rising smoke proclaimed that the fire had taken.
During the time occupied by these experiments, and the subsequent cookery, the thin mist in the sky had given place to several dark rolling clouds, which promised ere long to give them a shower. The promise was kept; for the boys had not proceeded half a mile before the rain poured down in torrents. As there was no lightning, they sought the shelter of a mossy tree, and for a season were so well protected that they could not but admire their good fortune. But their admiration did not last long; the rain soaked through the dense masses over head, and fell in heavy drops upon their caps and shoulders.
"This will never do," cried Harold. "Come with me, Robert, and I will provide a shelter that we can trust."
Putting upon their heads a thick covering of moss, which hung like a cape as far down as their elbows, they ran to a fallen pine, and loosened several pieces of its bark, as long and broad as they could detach, then placing them upon their heads above the moss, marched back to the tree, and had the pleasure of seeing the rain drip from their bark shelters as from the eaves of a house. Robert was much pleased with the expedient, and remarked,
"I suppose this is another of old Torgah's notions."
"O, no," replied Harold. "I have frequently seen it used by negroes in the field, and by hunters in the woods. But there is another device of a similar kind, which I will leave you to guess. I was riding once with a rough backwoodsman across one of our Alabama prairies, when we were overtaken by a severe hail-storm, that gave us an unmerciful pelting. Now, how do you suppose he protected himself against the hailstones?"
"Got under his horse," conjectured Robert. "I once saw a person sheltering himself under his wagon."
"He took the saddle from his horse, and placed it upon his head. For my own part, I preferred the pelting of the stones to the smell of the saddle."
The rain ceasing shortly after, they continued their walk to the old encampment, which they visited for the purpose of ascertaining whether there were any other signs of visitors. Everything was just as they had left it, except that it had assumed a desolate and weather-beaten aspect. Their flag was flying, and the paper, though wet, adhering to the staff. At sea the weather looked foul, and the surf was rolling angrily upon the shore. Resting themselves upon the root of the noble old oak, and visiting the spring for a drink of cool water, they once more turned their faces to the prairie.
Whoever will travel extensively through our pine barrens, will see tracts, varying in extent from a quarter of an acre to many hundreds of acres, destroyed by the attacks of a worm. The path from the old encampment led through a "deadening," as it is called, of this sort; in which the trees, having been attacked some years before, were many of them prostrate, and others standing only by sufferance of the winds. By the time our travellers reached the middle of this dangerous tract, a sudden squall came up from sea, and roared through the forest at a terrible rate. They heard it from afar, and saw the distant limbs bending, breaking, and interlocking, while all around them was a wilderness of slender, brittle trunks, from which they had not time to escape. Their situation was appalling. Death seemed almost inevitable. But just as the crash commenced among the pines, a brilliant idea occurred to the mind of Robert.
"Here, Harold!" said he. "Run! run! run!"
Suiting the action to the word, he threw himself flat beside a large sound log that lay across the course of the wind, and crouched closely beside its curvature; almost too closely, as he afterwards discovered. Hardly had Harold time to follow his example, before an enormous tree cracked, crashed, and came with a horrible roar, directly over the place where they lay. The log by the side of which they had taken refuge, was buried several inches in the ground; and when Robert tried to move, he found that his coat had been caught by a projecting knot, and partly buried. The tree which fell was broken into four parts; two of them resting with their fractured ends butting each other on the log, while their other ends rested at ten or twelve feet distance upon the earth. For five minutes the winds roared, and the trees crashed around them; and then the squall subsided as quickly as it had arisen.
"That was awful," said Robert, rising and looking at the enormous tree, from whose crushing fall they had been so happily protected.
"It was, indeed," Harold responded; "and we owe our lives, under God, to that happy thought of yours. Where did you obtain it?"
Robert pointed to the other end of the log, and said, "There." A small tree had fallen across it, and was broken, as the larger one had been. "I saw that," said he, "just as the wind began to crash among these pines, and thought that if we laid ourselves where we did, we should be safe from everything, except straggling limbs, or flying splinters."
"Really," said Harold, "at this rate you are likely to beat me in my own province. I wonder I never thought of this plan before."
"I had an adventure somewhat like this last year, only not a quarter so bad," said Robert. "I was fishing with Frank, on a small stream, when a whirlwind came roaring along, with such force as to break off limbs from several of the trees. Afraid that we, and particularly Frank, who was light, might be taken up and carried away, or else dashed against a tree and seriously hurt, I made him grasp a sapling, by putting around it both arms and legs, while I threw my own arms around him and it together, to hold all tight. I was badly frightened at the noise and near approach of the whirlwind, but for the life of me could not help laughing at an act of Frank's. We had taken only a few small catfish (which he called from their size, kitten-fish), and two of these being the first he had ever caught, he of course thought much of them. When the wind came nearest, and I called to him, 'Hold fast, Frank!' I saw him lean his head to one side, looking first at the flying branches, then at the string of fish, which the wind had slightly moved, and deliberately letting go his hold of the tree, he grasped his prize, and held to that with an air and manner, which said as plainly as an act could say, 'If you get them, you must take me too.'"