Goulding Francis Robert
The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast
CHAPTER XXXVII
LAUNCHING THE BOATS-MORE WORK, AND YET MORE-ECLIPSE OF FEB. 12TH, 1831-HEALING BY "FIRST INTENTION" – FRANK'S BIRTHDAY-PREPARING FOR A VOYAGE-RAIN, RAIN
The boats came on swimmingly. By the end of the second week of their systematic labours they had not only been sufficiently excavated, but the young shipwrights had trimmed down much of the exterior. They were two and a half feet wide, by twenty inches deep, and eighteen feet long. At this stage Robert supposed the work to be nearly done, but Sam shook his head, and said, "Not half." The most laborious part of the work was over, but so much more remained, in the way of paring, smoothing, trimming, and bringing into proper shape, that it was full a fortnight before they were considered fit for the water.
They were ready for launching on the same day; and though Robert made his announcement of the fact some hours in the advance of Harold, it was agreed, that as Sam had been with him half a day more, the race should be considered as even. The launching occupied four days. They were distant from the water respectively an hundred and an hundred and fifty paces. A thick forest was to be traversed. It was necessary to clear a road, build bridges, and cut down the river bank. Robert's was launched on February 1st, and Harold's on February 3d. On each occasion there was a general rejoicing, and every person, not excepting Mary and Frank, fired a salute.
But on being launched the boats did not float to please them. One was too heavy at the bows, the other leaned too much to one side. Several days were spent in correcting these irregularities, and thus closed the fifth week of their labour.
Another week was spent in making the rudders and a pair of oars, and fitting in the seats and masts. This caused them to make another voyage to the wreck, for the purpose of obtaining planks, screws, and other materials. They went, of course, in their boats, and had the pleasure of seeing them behave admirably. They were steady, sat well on the water, and obeyed the oars and helm almost as well as though they had been built in a shipyard.
There were two incidents worthy of note occurring about this time. One was the discovery, made first by Frank, of an interesting astronomical phenomenon. About a quarter before twelve o'clock he had gone to the water bucket beside the door for a drink of water, when all at once Mary heard him call out,
"Run here, sister, run! The sun has turned into a moon!"
He had looked into the water, and seeing the reflected image of the sun like a half moon, sharply horned, had strained his eyes by looking up until he ascertained that the sun itself was of the same shape. Mary, who had witnessed an event of the kind before, perceived at a glance that it was an eclipse. She therefore took a basin, and hurried with Frank to the landing, to inform the others of the fact.
"Look in the water, brother," said Frank, whose eyes were yet watery from the severe trial he had given them. "You can't look at the sun without crying."
For a time, of course, no work was done; all were engaged in watching the phenomenon. It was the great annular eclipse of February 12th, 1831, in which the sun appeared at many places like a narrow ring of light around the dark body of the moon. To our young people there was no ring. They were too far south. The sun appeared like the moon when two days old, and the sky and earth were very gloomy.
The other incident was in itself trivial, and would not be introduced here but that the fact it illustrates is sometimes of real importance. It was simply the healing of a wound by what is called "first intention." Mary was engaged in some of her culinary duties, when, by an unfortunate slip of her hand, the knife which she was using missed its place, and sliced her finger. The piece was not cut off, but there was a large gash, and it bled profusely. Her first act was to wash the wound well in tepid water until the blood ceased to flow; then seeing that all the clots were removed, she brought the lips of the wound together, and kept them so by a bandage and a little case, like the finger of a glove made fast to the wrist by a piece of tape. The wound soon underwent a process similar to that of trees in grafting, only far more rapid. By the next morning the lips began to adhere, and in the course of three days the wound was healed-so rapidly will the flesh of a healthy person recover from a cut if the conditions necessary to "first intention" are observed, viz., that the parts be brought quickly together, and kept without disturbance.
The next week was spent in fitting up the sails and rigging, and preparing the boats, so that in case of rough weather they could be firmly lashed together.
Their work was now done. They had been labouring steadily for a month and a half, and were ready by Friday evening to pack up and start for home. But they resolved to wait and sanctify the Sabbath. They needed rest: they were jaded in every limb and muscle. Moreover, the next day was Frank's birthday. Taking everything into consideration, they preferred to spend that day in rest and rejoicing, partly in honour of Frank, but more especially as a sort of thanksgiving for their successful work. And as the voyage home promised to be long, and perhaps perilous, they also determined that they would devote Monday to trying their boats at sea, by an outward voyage round the island.
After Frank had retired, the rest agreed upon the plans by which to make the following day pleasant and profitable to him.
"I," said Mary, "will make him a birth-day cake."
"And I," said Robert, "will teach him how to shoot a bird."
"And I," said Harold, "will teach him how to swim."
"And I," said Sam, "will sing him a corn song."
They went to bed and slept soundly. It is astonishing how habit can reconcile us to our necessities! Had these young people been set down by any accident, a few months before, in the midst of a lonely prairie, surrounded by a wild forest, full of bears and panthers, afar from their friends, and without any other protection than that which they had long enjoyed, they would have been miserable. But they went to sleep that night, not only free from painful apprehension, but happy-yes, actually happy-when they knew that their nearest neighbours were treacherous savages, and that they were surrounded nightly by fierce beasts, from whose devouring jaws they had already escaped more than once, only by the blessing of God upon brave hearts and steady hands. How came this change? It was by cheerful habit. The labours, dangers, and exposure of men, had given them the hearts of men. God bless the children! They slept in the midst of that leafy forest as sweetly as though they were at home, and the bright stars that rose by turns to measure out the night, looked down like so many angel eyes, to watch the place of their habitation.
Mary and Frank were the first to awake in the morning. The others, wearied by their long labours, and free from pressing responsibility, abandoned themselves to a repose as sweet as it was needful. Frank moved first, and his moving awaked Mary, who, on calling to mind the nature of the day, and the resolutions of the night before, put her arms affectionately round his neck, and said, "Good morning, Mr. Eight-years-old; I wish you many pleasant birthdays."
Frank put his arms round her neck, also, and kissed her; then both began to dress. Wishing not to disturb the sleepers, they slipped softly from the tent. Mary went first to the poultry-pen, which she opened. The ducks quacked with pleasure at her approach, and she watched them as they dodged through the narrow hole opened for their passage, and ran in a long line with shaking tails and patting feet after the leading drake. Then she raised the portcullis-like gate for the goats and deer; Nanny bleated, no doubt intending to say "good morning," but the unmannerly kid and fawn pranced away, mindful of nothing but their expected feast of grass and leaves.
While Mary was engaged with these, Frank went to look after his own particular pets. She heard him at the back of Nanny's pen, where the cubs were kept, calling out, "Come along, sir!" then he laughed heartily, but a moment after his voice sounded impatiently, "Quit it, you Pollux! quit it, sir!" then in a distressed tone, "Sister, sister, come help me!" Mary ran to his assistance, yet she could scarce restrain her risibles at the sight which greeted her eyes. Frank had loosed the cord which confined the cubs, and was leading them out for the purpose of a romp, when Pollux, who was a saucy fellow, and knew as well as his young master what was intended, rose, with a playful growl, upon his hind legs, and walking behind him, pinioned his arms close, and began trying to throw him down. Frank was much pleased with what he regarded as a cunning trick in his young scholar; but he soon found that it was by no means pleasant to be hugged in that way by a bear. He tried in vain to break loose, and when Mary came to his assistance, the bear had thrown him down, with his face and nose in the dirt. Frank rose, looking very much mortified, and more than half angry.
"You ugly beast," he said to the bear, that seemed amazingly to enjoy the joke, and was rising for another frolic. "Get out, sir. I have a great mind to give you a beating."
"O, no, Frank," said Mary, "don't be angry with your playmate. Remember who taught him to wrestle, and remember besides that this is your birthday."
Frank's wrath instantly subsided, and jerking down Pollux by the cord, he led both cubs back to the pen, where he secured them, and then washed from his face the traces of his defeat.
Sam had by this time come from his shed-room and made the fire for breakfast, and Robert and Harold, awaked by Frank's call for help, dressed themselves and made their appearance. They all wished Frank a pleasant birthday, and hoped he might have as many as would be for his good.
"Now, Master Frank," said Harold, while they were sitting together, "what would you have us do for you today? We are all your humble servants, and ready to do whatever we can for your pleasure."
"Then," said Frank, "the first thing I want you to do, is to carry me right home to father and mother."
"I wish we could, Buddy," said Robert; "but as we cannot do all that today, you must try to think of something else."
Frank could think of nothing. Robert suggested that he might spend part of his birthday in learning to shoot.
"But I can shoot now," he replied. "Sister and I have shot many times already since we came to the island."
"I mean," said Robert, "that you should learn to use a gun, so as to kill whatever you wish."
"O, yes," said Frank, "I should like that very much. For who knows but some old bear or panther may come after sister or me yet, before we get away."
"O, as for bears," Robert maliciously remarked, "I think you will never need a gun. I think you will always find a tree."
Frank's face reddened as he returned, "I don't care if I did, sir. Cousin Harold knows that I did exactly right. Didn't I, cousin?"
"Pardon me, Frank," Robert implored, "I did not suppose that you felt so sore about that climbing. I only said it to teaze you. I am sure I should have done exactly as you did. But I can't help laughing to think how your feet twinkled, as you climbed that tree."
Robert well knew that this half apology would be satisfactory. Frank prided himself on his nimbleness, being so lithe and active that his playmates used to call him "squirrel." The allusion to his "twinkling" feet restored him to good humour.
"Now, Frank," said Robert, beginning his lecture with the gun in hand, "the first lesson I wish to teach you is this, never let the muzzle of your gun point to yourself, or to any person, and never allow any person to point one towards you. A gun can never kill where it does not point. Even when you are loading, or walking, be careful to hold it so, that if it should go off it could hurt nothing."
He then related several stories, illustrating the fact that almost all accidents from guns are from careless handling. Frank was a prudent child. He listened attentively, and then replied,
"Brother Robert, I think I had better let the gun alone till I am older. May be, if I begin so early, I shall shoot myself or somebody else."
Robert was pleased with this mark of caution in his little brother, and said, "Hold on to that, Frank, it is a remark worthy of your birthday, and I trust that every return of this day will find you as wise in proportion to your age."
The further instructions intended for Frank that day, being of an out-door character, were interrupted by a rain that commenced about nine o'clock, and held on steadily all day. They employed themselves leisurely in packing and preparing, first for the short voyage contemplated on Monday, and also for the longer voyage home. During the whole day the tent was strewed and confused with the various bags, boxes, trunks, and kegs, intended to receive the articles to be carried. They looked and felt like travellers on the eve of departure. About sunset the rain ceased. The preparations being now complete, they came together in the tent, and rested on the sofa. Sam was missing. He had not been seen for half an hour, and now it was getting dark. Presently they heard a voice ringing musically through the woods, in the direction of the boat landing, "Join, oh, join, oh! Come, boys, we're all here! Join, oh! join, oh!" Frank sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "That is a corn song!"
The music was very simple, and of the kind that may be termed persuasive. It was the song usually sung by the negroes of one plantation, when inviting those of the neighbourhood to join them in their "corn-shuckings." This practice is much more common in the up country of Georgia, where the corn crop is large, than on the seaboard, where the principal attention is given to cotton. A corn-shucking frolic among these light hearted people, is a scene worth witnessing; it is always held at night, and concluded about midnight with a feast, and is to the negro what a quilting party is to country people.
When Frank heard the first stave of Sam's song, he recalled vividly the merry scenes of the corn-shucking, and running towards the landing, met him, and returned, holding him by the hand, and joining in the chorus.
It was late ere they retired to rest. They began to realize a tender nearness to the loved ones at home, such as they had not felt since parting from them. They talked long and gratefully over past deliverances and future hopes; then closed the evening as those should who wish to find the Sabbath a day of blessing.
The next morning dawned more dark and uncomfortable than the day preceding. The whole sky was loaded with clouds, and the rain fell every minute through the day. The young people probably would have found their time pass away very dismally had it not been for the pious vivacity of Harold, who laid himself out to make it agreeable. He frankly avowed that one reason why he wished to have them unite with him in spending the Sabbath aright, was his desire to succeed in the effort to see their friends that week; and he referred for authority, to the story told of Sir Matthew Hale, High Chancellor of England, who advised that, if there were no higher motive, the Sabbath should be kept sacred as a matter of policy; remarking that, for his own part, he could almost foretell his success during the week to come, by the way he spent the Sabbath.
The others, influenced by a variety of considerations, united with him in this effort, and the day passed off not only with pleasure, but with profit. Robert had always thought in his heart that this story of Sir Matthew Hale smacked strongly of superstition; but when he came to reflect that if the Bible is true, of which he had no doubt, the God who speaks to us now is the same who spoke to Moses, and who actually prospered or hindered the children of Israel according to their observance of the Sabbath, he changed his opinion so far as this-he resolved for the present to adopt the advice of that great man, and then to watch whether the same results were verified in his own case. And although his reflections upon this point partook of the merely philosophic character that, to some extent, marked the operations of his mind, the course upon which he resolved had several good effects; it made him realize more sensibly his practical relation to God, and caused him to watch more closely the consequences resulting from the discharge or neglect not only of this particular duty, but of duty in the general. That resolution, apparently so trifling, and expressed to no one, started him on a perfectly new track, and enabled him to learn, from his own experience, that "whoever will watch the providence of God, will never lack a providence to watch."
On Monday the weather was worse than before. They did indeed go out, well protected by thick boots, watercoats, and tarpaulin hats, to see after their boats; but the day was so chilly, as well as wet, that their most comfortable place was near the fire. Before sunset, however, the rain ceased, the clouds rapidly dispersed, and when the sun flung his last slanting beams across the earth, Robert pointed to Harold a red spot upon a cloud, which spread so fast, that soon the whole western sky was blazing with the promise of a fair morrow. With this expectation they made every preparation, and went to bed.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
VOYAGE BOUND THE ISLAND-THE LOST BOAT-STRANGE SIGNALS AGAIN-HURRICANE-NIGHT MARCH-HELPLESS VESSEL-MELANCHOLY FATE-THE RESCUE-MAROONERS' HOSPITALITY-CONCLUSION
Tuesday morning dawned without a cloud. Before the stars had ceased shining all hands were called to work, and by the time the sun peeped over the eastern marsh, they pushed off from their landing, Harold and Sam, with Mum, being in one boat, and Robert, Mary, and Frank, with Fidelle, in the other. Rowing slowly down the river, against a light wind from the south-east, the perfume of yellow jessamines (gelseminum sempervirens), then in rich bloom, so loaded the air, that the young people snuffed up the delicious odours, and looked lovingly at the green island they were preparing to forsake.
The voyage was made almost without incident. When they had passed out to sea, the voyagers were rejoiced to find their boats behaving as well upon the rough water as they had already done upon the smooth-they danced joyously upon the gentle swell, as if congratulating their young builders in the happy prospect of a successful voyage. The boys tried the effect of lashing them together, and thus verified the expectation of their safety; they rubbed and creaked a good deal, and moved less rapidly than when separate, but they sat upon the water with a steadiness which no ordinary commotion could disturb.
Running the sea length of the island, and now bending their course for the north river, Sam sang out, "A sail!" Far up the coast a faint white speck appeared, glancing in the sunbeams, but it soon faded from sight, and they concluded that either it was a distant sea gull, or else a vessel passing to the north. They watched it with interest so long as it was visible, and then turned into the river. Had they suspected what that white thing was, and that instead of disappearing in the increasing distance, it was only obscured by a little mist, as it approached, beating against a head wind, they would have forsaken river, island, tent, everything, and sailed joyfully to meet it.
They reached the old encampment at one o'clock, having made the run of twenty-six miles in six and a half hours. The boats behaved so well, and the winds, sea, and sky were so inviting, that their only regret was, that they had not put everything aboard and made a day's voyage homewards. But doubtless, as Harold remarked, a kind Providence watched over their path, and would prove its kindness even in this delay.
Having taken a hasty survey of their old place of rest and of refuge, and refreshed themselves at the spring, they resolved to divide their company-Robert's boat to go direct to the orange landing, where it was to be left, while the passengers went by land to the tent, and prepared the provisions for next day; and Harold and Sam, in the meantime, to continue up the river, and ascertain whether there was not an inland passage round the island, shorter and easier than the route by sea. With this understanding they sailed together to Duck Point, where Robert turned into the Creek, and putting Mary at the helm, rowed until they came to the orange landing, and there moored the boat beside the old raft. They reached the tent long before sunset, and having completed the necessary preparations about dark, began to wish for the return of the others. Several times Robert went to the landing to look for them before the daylight had entirely ceased; and after dark he went again by the light of the moon, which, being half full, shed her light at this time of the evening perpendicularly upon his path. He was becoming uneasy, when afar off he heard the mellow sounds of a boat song; the notes grew more and more distinct; the thump of the oars began to be heard keeping time to the music; finally, the song ceased; a clatter was heard as the oars were laid in the boat; and soon the whole company were together once more, enjoying the last supper of which they expected to partake on the island.
"What kept you so long?" inquired Robert. "Was the distance great?"
"No," replied Harold, with a look of pleasure; "we found the distance only about six miles, but we were detained by missing our way, and more especially by trying to be sure of a piece of very good news. I think we have found the old boat."
"Indeed!" said Robert, starting to his feet, with the keenness of his delight. "Where? How?"
"In the marsh, at the far bend of the river. I always thought it had lodged somewhere in that direction, and therefore kept my eyes open at every little creek and opening in the marsh. At last I saw, what I cannot say positively is our boat, but it is a boat of the same colour, and having a stripe of white and black, like ours. We tried until sunset to approach it, but did not succeed in getting any nearer than at first; it is surrounded with soft mud, and a wilderness of mangroves."
This was certainly pleasant, though unprofitable, intelligence. There was no prospect of their being able to extricate the boat, except by the help of some uncommon tide; and its value, though considerable, was nothing in comparison with the necessity for returning home. They resolved not to wait for it; on the contrary, that they would transport to the portage, by means of Harold's boat, the lading intended for Robert's; then returning to the prairie, they would take in the second load, and passing around by the new way, unite at Duck Point, and sail thence for home. By rising early they were sure that they could leave the island by eleven or twelve o'clock.
While engaged in these plans for the morrow, Sam came in to say that he was afraid the next day also would see them on the island, for never in his life had he seen clouds gather so rapidly, or fly so fast. The little company went out, and saw a multitude of low scudding clouds passing with intense rapidity over the face of the moon. Suddenly each one started, and looked inquisitively into the others' faces, for at that moment the sound of a cannon, within five miles, came booming from the coast. Robert and Mary turned red and pale by turns. Frank clapped his hands, exclaiming, "It is father! O, I know it is father!" Harold folded his arms-he had evidently acquired something of the composure of the Indian.
"Quick! quick! let us answer it!" cried Robert, and with the word darted away to the tree where the cannon powder was kept. While he was gone there came another report. They loaded expeditiously, and in a moment afterwards the dark woods were illuminated with the flash, and the earth shaken with the thundering discharge.
"Now for a march to double quick time!" said Robert, his strong excitement making him the leader of all that was done. "But, sister, what shall we do with you and Frank? You cannot keep pace with us. You had better stay here with Sam, while Harold and I push on to the coast, and see who is there."
"Had we not better fire our cannon once more!" suggested Harold.
"Sam can do it," Robert answered. "Here, Sam, put in so much," showing him the quantity, "and fire it until you are sure they hear you. But what is that?" he continued, listening to a loud roar that came from the coast, and increased like the accumulating rush of waters.
"It is a hurricane," replied Harold. "There is no use in trying to go now. Down with the tent pins! deep! deep! or we shall have our house blown from above us."
They hastened all to do what could be done for their immediate protection; but there was little to be done. Gaining wisdom from their former experience, they had driven down the pins as far as they could go when the tent was pitched, and moreover had raised the floor and trenched the premises. They could only make the upper canvas a little more secure, and having done this, they entered the tent a few seconds before the storm burst upon them. It was a terrible repetition of what they had experienced four months before, when Sam was so nearly destroyed.
Mary and Frank were in deep distress. The earnest impetuosity of Robert, combined with their own thoughts, had left in their minds no doubt that the guns fired were from their father; and now, O what a storm to meet him on his coming a second time to their truly enchanted island! Frank cried as if his heart would break. Mary buried her face in her hands, and prayed to Him who is mighty to deliver, even when the winds and the waves overwhelm.
Harold also was strongly convinced that the guns were from his uncle, but he knew that this was only conjectural, and therefore he kindly remarked in the hearing of the others.
"You have no certain reason, Robert, to believe that those guns are from your father. But suppose that they are, then another thing is true, he is in a vessel, for boats do not usually carry guns. They were fired too before the storm came on; therefore they are not signals of distress, and also they appear to have come from the river. Now, if the person who fired them is in a vessel, and in the river, what is there to fear? He cannot get away tonight, and he cannot probably be hurt by the storm. Let us be quiet until morning, and then go out to see who it is."
These thoughts were very comforting. Mary and Frank ceased their weeping, and united in the conversation. They all huddled together in the middle of the tent. For hours the wind roared and howled with great fury, but their tent was protected by the grand wall of forest trees around, and also by the picket enclosure; and though the wind made the canvas flutter, it could neither crush it down nor lift it from above them. Nor did the rain which poured in torrents, and was driven with great violence across the prairie, give them any particular inconvenience; it was readily shed by the several thicknesses of canvas overhead, and carried off by the drainage round the tent.
In the course of an hour, Mary and Frank fell asleep upon the sofa, and the others took such naps as they could obtain, while sitting in their chairs, and listening to a roar of winds so loud, that if twenty cannons had been fired at the river they could scarcely have been heard.
About midnight the rain ceased, and the wind began sensibly to abate. Puff after puff, and roar after roar, still succeeded each other through the forest; but the fury of the storm was over. An hour before day, Harold shook Robert by the shoulder, and said, "I think we can start now. Come and see."
The sky and woods were pitchy dark, little pools of water covered the ground, and the prairie was rough with huge branches torn from the trees, and conveyed to a distance. These were obstacles and inconveniences, but not impediments; and as the wind had so far lulled that it was possible for a torch to live, Robert decided to make a trial. He waked Mary and Sam, and announcing his intention, said to them:
"We wish to reach the old encampment by the time there is light enough to see over the river. If possible, we will return by eight o'clock, and let you know all. If we are absent longer than that, you may conclude that we have found something to do; and in that case, you had better follow us. We shall, of course, be somewhere on the river; but as we ourselves do not know where, you had better go direct to Duck Point, from which you can see almost all the way to our old spring. Let me have a piece of white cloth, sister; I will, if necessary, set up a signal for you on the beach, to tell you where we are."
Mary was exceedingly unwilling to have them depart. The darkness looked horrible; their blind path must now be still more obscured by prostrate trees and fallen branches; and if they succeeded in reaching the intended place, they might be called to engage in she knew not what dangerous enterprise upon water as boisterous as the sea. Quelling her anxieties, however, in view of the necessities of the case, she said:
"Go, but do take care of yourselves. Remember that you two are the only protectors, except Sam, for Frank and me."
The boys promised to run no unnecessary risks, and to return if possible by the appointed hour. Taking their guns, the spy-glass, and a bundle of rich splints of lightwood, they set out. Mary watched their figures gradually diminishing under the illuminated arches of the forest. She noticed the dark shadows of the trees turning upon their bases as pivots, when the torch passed, until they all pointed towards the tent. Then the light began to be intercepted; it was seen by fitful glares; it ceased to be seen at all; its course was marked only by a faint reflection from the tree-tops, or from the misty air; finally every trace of the torch and of its reflection was lost to sight, and Mary returned, with a sigh and a prayer, to her seat upon the sofa.