by Oliver Optic
Elizabeth asked her to accompany them to Plymouth and assist them inbuying their outfit. This gave great delight to the kind motherlysoul. She left her farm but seldom; a trip to Plymouth was a notableevent in her life; and when she returned with the girls, after a happyday's shopping, the spirit of adventure had so worked upon her that shecried, "Well, now, I wish I was going too, that I do."
Imagine the bustle and excitement of the next few days! Uncle Ben wasin London. In his absence the girls worked hard at their preparations.They got a sewing-maid from the village, and all four worked early andlate cutting out and making two sets of blouses, one for ordinary use,and the other for any very hot weather they might encounter on thevoyage. Even Tommy, not usually an industrious young person in suchmatters, did her fair share, though it was a great trial of patience tohave to finish the overcasting of all the seams before Elizabeth wouldlay them aside ready for packing.
Everything was complete before Uncle Ben's return. The girls hadfinished their outfit and packed it away neatly in their new cabintrunk. Their treasures were also packed ready to be handed into Mrs.Morris's keeping. A few pieces of furniture which Elizabeth could notbear to part with had been warehoused at Plymouth. The remainder,together with the farm stock, was to be sold after their departure.Tommy was very woebegone at the idea of selling her pony, and when JoeMorris offered to keep him for her, and give him his food in exchangefor his services (that was his thoughtful and pleasant way of puttingit), she hugged the burly farmer and called him a dear old man.
At last Uncle Ben returned. The last arrangements were made, the lastadieus said, and one fine day the little party of four drove to thestation to take train to Southampton, where the barque _Elizabeth_ wasrefitting. The girls waved their handkerchiefs gaily in response tothe parting salutations of the villagers; but they fell very silentwhen their old friends were out of sight, and the Captain, lookingstraight before him, heard a sob or two on each side and behind. Likea wise man, he said nothing about the sadness of leaving the old home,but related some of his recent experiences in London.
"I met a fine old friend of mine, a missionary," he said. "He isstationed on one of the South Sea Islands, and hasn't been home fortwenty years. A real good sort is Henry Corke. He has only been homea month, and yet he is going out almost at once. There's devotion foryou, girls. I asked him if he'd like to come with us, offered him theattractions of refined female society----"
"That was enough to choke him off," interrupted Tommy. "I hate to becalled a female."
"Well, perhaps it was a mistake not to say tomboy. Anyhow, Corke wasin too much of a hurry to come with us; prefers one of those dirtyclanking steamers. Mighty poor taste, I call it."
By the time they reached the station the girls had thrown off theirdespondency, and began to glow with excitement as they realized thatthey were actually entering upon a new life.
CHAPTER IV
ABOARD THE "ELIZABETH"
"Here we are!" cried Captain Barton, as the train ran into the dockstation at Southampton. "Now mind you don't get run over."
"The idea!" said Tommy; "we have been here before, Uncle."
"So you have, my dear, but good advice is none the worse for being saidtwice."
They made their way across the metals, on which locomotives werehauling and pushing heavy goods wagons, and came to the quay where the_Elizabeth_ lay taking in cargo. She looked a mere dwarf beside aCastle Liner not far away; but she was bright with the glory of newpaint, and Captain Barton gazed at her with an affectionate pride thathe would never have felt for a steamship. They went on board. Mr.Purvis, the Scots mate, gave the girls a shy greeting. They smiled atthose of the crew whom they recognized, and a look of painedbewilderment settled on the face of one, Sandy Sam, when Tommy askedhim if he had any more big gooseberries.
"Never mention the word to him," said the Captain anxiously, as theywent below; "he's very sensitive, my dear."
"Ah! you're afraid your stories will be found out, you know you are,"replied Tommy. "Oh! what a sweet little cabin."
The Captain had thrown open the door of the cabin which he had preparedfor his nieces, next to the saloon. The girls looked in eagerly.
"How very nice!" said Elizabeth.
"I'm glad you like it, my dear," said the Captain. "I did my best, andPurvis was uncommon useful, too."
"A woman couldn't have managed better," said Mary.
"Well, you see, bachelor men like me and Purvis get into the way ofmaking up for what we lose. We nearly forgot the looking-glass,though, not having any particular features ourselves to be proud of."
The cabin was very daintily got up. The woodwork was beautifullypolished. There were two bunks on one side, one above the other, and athird on the opposite side, each with a spotless white bed-cover. Onone wall hung a looking-glass; and a tiny wash-hand basin of polishedzinc was fitted into a little alcove. There were hooks for hangingclothes on the partition. The clear space between the sides was onlytwo or three feet across.
"Where shall we put our trunk?" asked Elizabeth practically.
"In the saloon, my dear," replied her uncle. "We'll fasten it there,to prevent it rolling about if we meet any rough weather."
"We shall have to get up one at a time," said Tommy, with a laugh."There isn't room for two to do up their hair at once."
"Well, I know nothing about that," said the Captain, rubbing his baldcrown. "You mustn't quarrel or fight about who shall be first, or I'llhave to clap you in irons."
"Where do you keep your irons?" asked Tommy. "I'd like to see thedreadful things."
The Captain looked so much embarrassed that Tommy divined the truth atonce.
"Why, you haven't got any," she cried, dancing. "What a naughty oldfibber you are!"
"Well, you see, I pick my crew. Them that aren't English are Scotch orIrish, and very respectable men. But I dare say we can get a set ofirons in the town. Come along, we'll go and get something to eat;we're too busy to cook on board. I'll just drop in at one of themarine stores and see if they've got a small size of irons forobstreperous females."
As they walked up the High Street Tommy suddenly cried--
"Look, Bess, isn't that little Dan Whiddon? I wondered why he wasn'tat the station to wish us good-bye."
She pointed up the street, where she had seen a small oddly-dressedfigure pass under the narrow ancient arch that divides the street intoAbove and Below Bar. They hurried in that direction, but when theyreached the spot the figure had disappeared.
"I think you must have been mistaken," said Mary. "Dan wouldn't comeso far from home."
"I dare say. Now, Uncle, where shall we go? I'm famished."
The Captain led them to the Crown Hotel. He confessed that if he hadbeen alone he would have gone to a humbler place near the docks, wherehe might meet some shipmates.
"But you girls wouldn't like to eat among half-a-dozen sea-dogs smokingshag," he said.
As they ate their luncheon he said that he was disappointed with hiscargo. He had hoped to have a full ship for the South American ports,but feared that after all he would have to go out light. Tommy'sassurance that his passengers would make up did not appear to convincehim.
They slept on board that night, and were very merry at the novelexperience of undressing and dressing in such a narrow space. Earlynext morning the ship was towed out into the harbour. She had hardlymade a cable's length, however, when the Captain received a messagesemaphored from the quay to the effect that his agent had securedenough goods to complete his freight. It would not be ready forshipment for two days. He did not think it worth while to put backinto dock, as the extra cargo could be brought out in lighters.
During the next two days the girls were much amused to see their unclein his little dinghy, which held three at a squeeze, going to and frobetween the ship and the shore, propelling himself by means of one oarfixed in a groove at the stern. Nothing would satisfy them until heallowed one of the sa
ilors, usually Sunny Pat, to take them in turn andteach them how to work the little tub in this manner. Finding it veryeasy Tommy begged the Captain to let her take him ashore, and wasdelighted when he told her on landing that she would make a skipper inno time. She immediately bought a huge sailor's knife, much to hisamusement. Her sisters, not to be outdone, in their turn rowed himashore, and each also bought a knife.
"You'd be terrible folk in a mutiny," said the Captain, laughing. "Ireally must see about getting those irons."
But when the vessel's hold was filled from the lighters, and the cargowas complete, there were no irons among the equipment. The _Elizabeth_was towed down Southampton Water; then, the wind being fair, thecourses were set, and she was soon sailing merrily down Channel. Thegirls were in the highest spirits. It was a glorious day. The seaglistened in the sunlight, and as the vessel passed through the Solent,with the wooded shores of Hampshire on the right, and the Island on theleft, the Captain pointed out to his nieces various landmarks andinteresting spots, and gave them a first lesson in navigation. Inthree or four hours they passed the Needles.
"Now, girls," said the Captain, "my advice is, keep fairly quiet for alittle. There's a bit of a swell, and--well, I say no more."
Elizabeth and Mary remained reclining in their deck-chairs, quietlyenjoying their novel experiences. But Tommy was as nimble as Ariel onthe vessel of the Duke of Milan. She was here, there and everywhere,asking why this and what the other; now exclaiming at a warship thatglided silently past, now watching a graceful white-sailed yacht; atone moment standing by the helmsman, then flashing along the deck toask her uncle for an explanation of something that had caught herattention. The Captain watched her with kindly amusement. He did notrepeat his warning. "The lass had better get it over," he thought.Presently his amusement became mixed with a little anxiety as he sawher growing quieter, and a tinge of green coming into her complexion.At last with a sudden cry of "Oh!" she rushed to the companion anddisappeared. The other girls followed her anxiously, and for a timethey were seen no more. Thanks to the steadiness of the ship, and thecomparative smoothness of the sea, their sufferings were neitherviolent nor prolonged; but it was a much-subdued Tommy who emerged anhour or two later and meekly put her hand into her uncle's.
The next moment she gave a gasp. Not a yard away, lying on a pile ofcanvas, huddled a little figure in brown corduroys and clumping boots.It was Dan Whiddon, pale, grimy, with tear-stained eyes, fast asleep.
"LYING ON A PILE OF CANVAS HUDDLED A LITTLE FIGURE."]
"There's a young Samson for you!" said the Captain, noticing Tommy'slook of amazement. "A young rascal of a stowaway. Long Jimmy heard atapping in the forehold a while ago, and when the men opened up--anuisance when all the cargo was nattily stowed--there was this youngreprobate, half dead with hunger and fright. You've a deal to answerfor, Tommy."
"Why, what have I done?" asked the girl.
"Well, you and your sisters seem to have spoiled the young scamp. Whenthey brought him up from below he whimpered out that the young ladieshad been kind to him, and he didn't like carrying luggage and cleaningrailway lamps, and when he heard that you were coming to sea he wantedhis mother to get me to take him as a cabin-boy. She boxed his ears.But he found out when you were leaving, and hid in a goods wagon thatreached Southampton a little before we did, and watched his opportunityto slip on board when the barque was lying at the quay-side. That'sall I got out of him; and the motion served him as it serves mostlandsmen, and he dropped asleep just where you see him there. I'llhave something to say to him when he wakes."
"Poor little fellow!" said Tommy. "You won't be hard on him, Uncle?"
The Captain grunted. Perhaps he remembered that fifty years before hehad himself run away to sea.
"A rascally young stowaway," he muttered. "I can't put him ashore, asI shan't touch at any port this side of Buenos Ayres. And his mothercrying her eyes out, I'll be bound. And I'll have to spend severalshillings on a cable to tell her he's safe. A pretty thing for a manwith three nieces."
"I'll pay for the cable, Uncle."
"What! has she damaged the cable?" asked Mary innocently, coming up atthis moment.
Captain Barton shook with laughter.
"Oh, you bookworms!" he said, when he had command of his breath. "Takea look at the cable, Mary, and see if you think Tommy, for all hermischievousness, could do it much damage. No, 'tis another kind ofcable we were speaking of--all along of young Samson there. What wouldyou do with a stowaway, Bess?" he asked of his eldest niece, who hadjust joined the others.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you were right after all, Tommy.What a little sweep he looks!"
At this moment Dan stirred, opened his eyes, and when he saw the girlssmiled sheepishly.
"Now, young Samson, stand up and listen to me," said the Captainseverely. "Lay a hold of that stay there if you can't stand steady.You come sneaking aboard this vessel, ruining my cargo, expecting tofill yourself with my victuals, and all for what? Because you didn'tlike cleaning lamps and carrying luggage. What's that for a reason?There's worse than that aboard ship, I can tell you. If I did my duty,I should have you lashed to the mast and dosed with the cat. And yourpoor mother crying her eyes out, and the police dragging the ponds, andthe Government sending detectives to all parts, and wiring to all therecruiting sergeants, spending hundreds of pounds of the country'smoney all for a discontented young shaver not four feet high. Now justyou run along to Mr. Purvis and ask him to forgive you. He's verystrict is Mr. Purvis, much stricter than I am; and then ask Sandy Samvery politely to fling a few buckets of water over you and scrub youwith holystone; and after that go to Cook and ask him if he can spare abiscuit and a can of soup; and then I'll see if I can find some clothesthat will fit you, and we'll make a man of you, and an A.B. in time."
The Captain's tone grew less stern and more genial as he went along,and when he had finished Dan smiled cheerfully, gave Tommy an extrasmile, and went aft to obey orders.
The run down Channel was very pleasant to the girls. They showed thekeenest interest in the ship and the doings of the sailors. Theserough, good-tempered fellows were flattered by the attentions of theirpassengers, and never tired of answering their questions. It was notlong before all three were able to tie all kinds of sailors' knots,splice ropes, and do other simple things of the kind. They knew thenames of the sails and the yards, and Tommy in particular never tiredof airing her nautical vocabulary.
Even the ship's cook became their willing slave. Elizabeth took him inhand, and he meekly received her instructions, with great advantage tohis bill of fare. Captain Barton declared that it was a good job hewas retiring, for this unwonted luxury was killing his seaman'squalities.
The evenings were spent in the little deck cabin, where they played atdraughts with the Captain and mate, or listened to the yarns they spun.Mary had brought her mandoline, and on fine evenings they would get upa concert, the sailors singing their chanties and dancing the hornpipe.The Captain hunted up some ancient grass hammocks, and when the weatherwas quite calm the sailors rigged these up on deck for the girls. Someof the crew taught them how to make hammocks, using string instead ofgrass, and they often amused themselves by weaving string bags andbaskets.
As for Dan Whiddon, he soon became the pet of the ship. He was agood-tempered little fellow, willing to oblige anybody. He was keptalways busy, and it was not long before he found that the life of asailor was a good deal harder even than that of a porter at a waysidestation.
"But I likes it, I do," he said once to Tommy, "better'n cleaning lampsand such."
"You get no tips, Dan," she replied.
"What's tips!" he said. "I never had no good of 'em, miss. Mothertook them all except a penny now and then for sweets, and the Captainhe gives me sweets for nothing, he do, and so I save, don't I, miss?"
The weather held fair almost without interruption, and the girls becameso well seasoned that an occasional gale did
not distress them. Asthey approached the tropics the heat became rather trying, and thenthey brought out of their trunk sundry light blouses at which theiruncle cocked an eye.
"Rank disobedience!" he said sternly. "I said serge."
"Don't they look nice, Uncle?" said Tommy mischievously, "and we madethem ourselves. You can't object to that, my dear man, and we shallwash them ourselves, so there's no laundry bill for you to pay. Infact, you haven't a leg to stand on, so you had better say at once theylook sweet and save time. Don't you think so, Mr. Purvis?"
"Weel," said the Scotsman cautiously, "I wouldna say but what they aresuitable to the climate, but they're terrible gay like."
"Oh, you should see Bess's evening frock. It's perfectlylovely--chiffon, with pink insertion; it suits her dark hairsplendidly."
"There, Tommy, that'll do," said the Captain; "such talk isn't suitableaboard this vessel. You're unruly minxes, and what I'll do with you inLondon I don't know."
"You'll soon get used to it, Uncle dear, and I really wouldn't worry ifI were you. We'll keep you straight."
"A happy girl, Purvis," said the Captain, when they were alone.
"Ou, ay, she is that."
They spent a couple of days in Buenos Ayres while Captain Barton wasunloading part of his cargo and settling his affairs. When they left,a certain young electrical engineer asked to be allowed to call on themwhen he returned to England, and looked very crestfallen when Elizabethtold him that they had no address. They were almost disappointed whenthey rounded the terrible Cape Horn without encountering a storm.After a short stay at Valparaiso, the Captain set his course direct forthe Pacific Islands. Interested as the girls had been hitherto, theybecame intensely excited now. Mary knew a great deal about CaptainCook and other early navigators, and all the girls had read a volume ofStevenson's on the South Seas, which their uncle had brought home oncein a colonial edition. The romance of this quarter of the globe hadcaptured their imagination, and they looked eagerly forward to seeingthe strange men and women, the gorgeous scenery, the many novel thingswhich their reading and their uncle's stories had led them to expect.
