The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE SURPRISE AND DISAPPOINTMENT--NAMING THE FAWN--SAM'SSTORY--DEPRESSION AFTER EXCITEMENT--GREAT MISFORTUNE

  Had there been nothing to excite them the company might have oversleptthemselves on the following morning. But shortly after daylight theywere awaked by an incident that hurried them all out of bed. It wasnothing less than hearing Frank exclaim, in a laughing, joyous tone, "Ofather, howdy! howdy! I am so glad you have come!"

  The dull ears of the sleepers were caught by these welcome words, andall sprang to their feet.

  "Father! Father! Is he here?" they asked. "Where, Frank? where!"

  "Yonder," said he, sitting bolt-upright in bed, rubbing his half-openedeyes with one hand, and with the other pointing to a corner of the tent."Isn't that father? I saw him there just now."

  It was only a dream. Frank had been thinking more than usual of homeduring the day and night past, and it was natural that his visions ofthe night should be of the same character with his dreams of the day.He fancied that his father had found the lost boat, and having tied itat the landing, was coming to the tent. Poor fellow! he was sadlydisappointed to learn that it was all a dream. The picture was sovivid, and his father looked so real, that for a moment he was perfectlyconfused. Mary tried to comfort him by saying, "Never mind, buddy; we_will_ see him coming some of these days. But though father is nothere, you remember that Sam is, and that he is going to tell us abouthome, as soon as he is able to talk. Come, let us get up, and see howhe is." The history of the preceding day dawned slowly upon the mind ofthe bewildered child, and the sense of disappointment was gradually lostin the hope of hearing Sam's story.

  The wounded man had spent a night of suffering. His leg pained him sointensely, that several times he had been on the point of calling forassistance; but hearing from every one that peculiar breathing whichbetokens deep sleep, and remembering that they had undergone immensefatigue, he stifled his groans, and bore his sufferings in silence.

  While Robert and Harold were occupied with kind offices around thecouch, Mary and Frank went to see after the fawn. Its neck was somewhatsore to the touch, but otherwise it appeared to be doing well. Theygave it more water, hay and sassafras leaves. Frank offered it also apiece of bread; but wild deer are not used to cookery, and the fawnrejected it; though, after becoming thoroughly tamed, it became so fondof bread of every kind, that it would follow Frank all over the woodsfor a piece no bigger than his finger. "What shall we call her?" askedFrank.

  "We will have a consultation about that," replied Mary, as she saw theothers approaching. "Cousin Harold, what name would you give?"

  "Snow or Lily, I think, would suit her colour very well," he answered.

  "Brother Robert, what is yours?"

  "As she came from among the flowers," he said, "I think Flora would dovery well."

  "Yes," added Mary, "and very pretty names all Frank, what is yours?"

  "Anna," said he, "I would like to talk to her sometimes, and to makebelieve that she was Sister Anna."

  "That would sound almost too much like Nannie," Mary objected, and thenasked, "Did you say, brother, that you gave her to me?" He replied,"Yes." "Then," she added, "I will call her Dora, for I heard father saythat that name means a gift."

  "Dora let it be," said Robert, patting its delicate head. "Miss Dora, Iwish you a speedy cure, and a pleasant captivity."

  About nine o'clock Sam awakened from a refreshing sleep, and the anxiouscompany assembled at his side to hear what he had to tell about home."I a'nt got much to tell," said Sam, "I lef so soon a'ter you all, datyou know most all sept what happen to me and Riley on de way."

  "Let us hear it all," said Robert.

  "But before you begin," interrupted Mary, "do tell us about William.Was he drowned or not?"

  (For the sake of the reader who may not be familiar with the lingo ofsouthern and sea-coast negroes, the narrative will be given in somewhatbetter English, retaining, however, the peculiarities of thought anddrapery.)

  "O, no, Misses," he replied to Mary's question. "He only fell backwardinto the water, and was a little strangled. He rose directly, and gavethe alarm. I suppose the reason that you did not hear him was that hewas under the wharf, holding tight to a post, for fear some of the fishmight come and take hold of him too. He came with me to Riley'sIsland."

  "Now do you begin at the beginning," said Robert, "and tell us one thingafter another, just as it happened. If there is anything of which wewish to hear more particularly, we will stop you to inquire."

  "Well," said Sam, "you know that when you left I was working in the backroom. I was putting in the window sash, when I heard your fathertalking to some one at the door, and saying, 'Stay here, I will be outin a moment!' He went into his room, came out with something in hishand, and spoke a word to the man at the door, when we heard William'svoice, crying out, 'Help! help!' as if he was half smothered. Yourfather said, 'What can be the matter?' I heard him and the strangerrunning towards the bluff, and I ran too. When I reached a place whereI could see you (for the little cedars were between the house and thewater), your father had just fallen upon his knees. He had his two handsjoined together, and was praying very hard; he was pale as a sheet, andgroaned as if his heart was breaking. For a while I could hardly takemy eyes off from him; but I could see you in the boat, going over thewater like a dove through the air, leaving a white streak of foambehind. Presently your father rose from his knees, and said, 'It is adevil fish! He cannot hold that gait long. Sam, do you and William (forWilliam had by this time come up from the water), get the canoe ready ina minute, and let us pursue them;' then he wrung his hands again, andsaid, 'O, my God, have mercy, and spare my children!'

  "William and I ran a few steps toward the canoe, but I came back to tellmaster that the canoe could not float--a piece of timber had fallen fromthe wharf, and punched a great hole in it. Then the soldier spoke, andsaid, 'The Major has a fine sail boat, Doctor. If you can do no better,I will ride very fast, and ask him to send it.' 'Do, if you please,'master said. 'Tell the Major he is my only help on earth. Lay yourhorse to the ground, good soldier, I will pay all damages.' The soldierturned short off, clapped his spurs to his horse, and made him layhimself almost straight to the ground.

  "When your father came to the canoe, he said quickly, 'We can mend thathole, and set off long before the boat comes from Tampa. Peter, make afire here at once--quick! quick! Judy, run to the house, and bring downa pot, and the cake of wax, and a double handful of oakum. William, doyou go to the house too, and bring the side of harness leather, twohammers, and a paper of the largest tacks. And Sam,' said he to me,'let us take hold of the boat, and turn it over ready for mending.' Thehole was big as my head, and there were two long cracks besides; but weworked very fast, and the boat was ready for the water in less than anhour. Your father worked as hard as any of us, but every once in awhile he turned to watch you, and looked very sorrowful. At last youwent so far away that we could barely see you, like a little speck,getting smaller and smaller. When you were entirely out of our sight,your father took his other spy glass, went on top of the shed, andwatched you till we were ready to go. Then he came to us, and said tome and William, 'I have concluded to send you off alone; you can rowfaster without me. I will wait for the Major's boat. The children arenow passing Riley's Island, and turning down the coast. Make haste toRiley, and say from me, that if he brings me back my children I willgive him whatever he asks. If he needs either of you, do you, Sam, gowith him, and do you, William, return to me; otherwise do you both keepon so far as you can with safety, and if you succeed, I will give youalso whatever you ask. If you can hear anything of them from Riley,make a smoke on the beach; if you learn anything good make two smokes,about a hundred yards apart; I will watch for them. And now, my goodfellows, good-bye! and may the Lord give you a safe passage and goodsuccess!' Neither I nor William could say one word. We took hold ofmaster's hands, knelt do
wn, and kissed them. And, somehow, I saw hishand was very wet; we could not help it, for we love him the same as ifhe was our father, and the tears would come.

  "We reached the island about twelve o'clock. Riley was gone. His wifesaid he saw the boat pass, knew who was in it, and went after it,without stopping for more than a calabash of water. When we heard that,we jumped into our own boat again, and pushed on. Riley's wife broughtdown a bag of parched corn, a dried venison ham, and his gun andammunition, saying that if he went he would need these things. Webegged her to make two fires on the beach; for we thought that althoughit was not the best news in the world to hear that you had been carriedso far away, it was good news to hear that you had not been drowned, andthat Riley had gone after you.

  "In about an hour we met Riley coming back. He had gone to a highbluff, on an island south of his, and watched you until you had passedout of sight. He was now returning home, uncertain whether to go afteryou in the morning, or to give you up altogether. When we gave him yourfather's message, he said he would go, for that the Doctor was a goodman, but that he must return home for a larger boat; that the coastbelow was dangerous, and that the boat in which he was was not safe. Sowe came to his island, where I staid with him that night, and Williamreturned to Bellevue.

  "As we left the island at daybreak we saw a vessel sailing towardsTampa, but too far for us to hail. That day we did not search the coastat all, more than to keep a sharp look out, for we knew that you hadgone far beyond. But the next three days we went into every cove andinlet, though not very far into any of them. Riley said that since thechange of Indian Agents, many of his people were hostile to the whites,and to all Indians who were friendly with them, and that perhaps heshould not be safe.

  "We saw some Indians on the first few days, but the last day we saw noneat all. Riley said that this coast was barren and bad; nobody visitedit. The Caloosa Indians, he said, used to live here, but they had beenstarved out. There was only a narrow strip of ten miles wide, betweenthe sea and the swamps within, and a great fire had swept over it a fewsummers before, and burnt up almost all the trees. The Indians supposedthat this part of the coast was cursed by the Great Spirit.

  "All that day we found the coast so full of reefs and shoals, andcovered with breakers, that we could scarcely get along; and we talkedseveral times of turning back. These breakers that you see from thebluff, stretch from a great ways above. Riley did not like to passthem. He said he was afraid we could not stop anywhere, except on anisland, which no Indian dared to visit; for that it was always enchantedwith _white deer_,[#] and the curse of the Great Spirit was so strongupon it that no Indian could go there and live.

  [#] It is surprising to learn how widespread is the superstition amongsemi-civilized and uncivilized nations that white deer are connectedwith enchantment.

  "We kept on, however, as well as we could, and hoped to find some placewhere we could pass the surf upon the shoals, and reach the shore,before we came to that terrible island. But the wind was against us,and also blowing on shore; and we made so little headway, that towardsevening we had to force our way through the smoothest place we couldfind, and even then were nearly swamped more than once. When we landedit was dark. We saw a fire afar off, and thinking it might be yours, Itried to persuade Riley to go to it; but perhaps he thought it was on_that island_, though he did not say so; he replied only that we weregoing to have a storm soon, and that we must be preparing for it. Wedrew the boat as high on the beach as possible, and made it fast by hispainter, made of twisted deerskins.

  "After we landed I cut some wood, and tried to make a fire; but beforewe could set it a-blazing the wind came and the tide rose. We went tothe boat, and drew it up higher on shore, and then higher still; butafter a while the wind blew so hard, and the waves rolled so high, thatit was not safe to be near the boat at all. Yet we could not afford tolose it; so we went down for the last time to draw it up, when all atonce a big wave came and pitched it upon us as I told you.

  "I had a terrible night. The water from the beach dashed over me whilelying under the cedar tree to which I had crawled, and the rain poureddown. The wind kept such a roaring that I suppose if a cannon had beenfired a mile off you could not have heard it.

  "The next morning I tried to set my broken bones. Then I dragged myselfto the edge of the bluff to see if Riley's body, or the boat, oranything was in sight. But nothing was to be seen except the blackwater rolling in from sea. As the light became stronger, I saw afar offyour tent and smoke, and I was then sure that the fire we saw the nightbefore was yours. I tried every way to make you see me. I took Riley'srifle, and snapped it, but the powder inside was wet. Then I went to abush, and with my one hand cut a long switch, to which I tied myhandkerchief, and waved and waved it; but nobody saw me. I could see_you_ very well (for my sight is good) sitting down, or walking about,as if you were in trouble about something. Then I tried to raise asmoke. Everything was wet; but the tree near me had a hollow, and inthe hollow was some dry rotten wood. I spread some powder on the driestpieces, and by snapping the rifle over it several times, set it on fire;but it was a long time before I could find anything to burn well. WhileI was trying at the fire, you, Mas Robbut and Mas Harrol, went off; butI kept on throwing into the fire whatever trash and small wood I couldcollect by crawling after them, until I was sure Miss Mary and Mas Frankwould see it. At last I heard their guns, and knew by their motionsthat they saw me; and for a time I felt safe. But you were so long timeaway, and I was in such pain, that it seemed to me I must die before youcould help me, though I saw you come to the tent, and heard your guns.And when, late in the evening, I saw that you had got a boat, orsomething of that sort, and were coming over the river to me, I was soglad that I--I--"

  Sam did not finish the sentence. The tears were streaming down hisblack face, and the young people were weeping with him. There were butfew questions to be asked. Sam's narrative had been so full andparticular, that it anticipated almost every inquiry.

  The severe labours of the day before, together with excitement and lossof rest, had so far relaxed the energies of the larger boys, that theydid little more that day than hang about the tent, and converse with Samand each other about home and their own adventures. Several times Haroldproposed to Robert to join him in visiting the beach, to ascertainwhether their signal had stood the storm, and if not, to replant it; butRobert ever had some reason ready for not going just then. At last,late in the afternoon, they took the spade and hoe, and went to thebeach. The flag was prostrate, and lay half buried in the sand; andwhat was their dismay, on approaching the bluff, to see a vessel thathad evidently passed the mouth of the river just beyond the shoals, andwas now about four miles distant, sailing to the southward.

  "O, cousin!" exclaimed Robert, "there is our vessel--gone! It is thecutter! Father is aboard of her! They came as near as they could,looking for our signal--and there it lies! Oh--h!" said he, wringinghis hands, "why did we not come sooner?"

  "I believe you are correct," replied Harold, looking sadly after thedeparting vessel; "we have missed our chance."

  There remained one solitary hope. It was possible, barely possible,that some one on board might be looking that way with a spy-glass, andthat the signal might yet be seen. The boys eagerly seized theflag-staff; they set the lower end upon the ground; they waved it to andfro in the air; they shook their handkerchiefs; they tossed up theirhats and coats, and shouted with all their might (vain shout!), "Brigahoy!" They gathered grass, leaves, twigs, everything inflammable, andraised a smoke, as large as possible, and kept it rising, higher,higher. They were too late; the vessel kept steadily on her way. Shefaded gradually from sight, and disappeared for ever.

  The two boys sat down, and looked sorrowfully over the distant waters.They were pale with excitement, and for a long time neither said a word.

  "They may return," said Harold; "let us plant our flag-staff."

  They dug a deep hole, set the pole in the middle, thr
ew in the dirt,packed it tightly with the handle of the hoe, and then returned slowlyto the tent, to inform the others of their sad misfortune.