CHAPTER XV.
FITTING AWAY.
It was now the month of September, and time to think of getting readyfor sea. Captain Rhines came on to the island, and with him JohnStrout, who had closed up his fishing, and was to be first mate; SethWarren, who was second mate; and Joe Griffin and Robert Yelf, who wereto go before the mast. The first thing they did was to take the anchorthe pirates left on the beach, carry it out and drop it astern, to holdher when she should float, though it must be confessed she did not havemuch more the appearance of floating than a basket. They then built abreastwork of logs on the beach, and above the tide, reaching to thebow of their craft, to run the boards on. They next hewed out somesticks long enough to go across the vessel, and bolt to the frames,both to hold her together and bind the cargo. As they were cuttingthese they came across a very large pine.
“Halloo, Ben!” cried Joe; “thought you had taken an oath that youwould never live another spring without a gunning float.”
“So I have.”
“Well, here’s the tree to make a bunkum one, I tell you; shall I cut itfor you?”
“Yes.”
At first, they could only work at low water, as the tide ebbed andflowed in their craft. Captain Rhines and Ben stowed the boards, whilethe others ran them in. They arranged them with great care, thatthe joints might not all come in one place; and frequently put in astick of cedar to increase the buoyancy, as cedar, in addition to itslightness, soaks water very slowly.
The tide now began to make. As they did not wish their timber to floatin the vessel, and get out of place, they put shores under the deckbeams to keep it from rising, and piled rocks on it: in a short time itwas all out of sight, under water. They employed the rest of the day inpiling boards on the breastwork, that they might be near at hand.
The next day they were able to go to work much sooner, and, the timberbeing near, made much more rapid progress; the next day more still;and, as they rose above the tide, put in more cedar to increase thebuoyancy. They now put in their cross-ties, and bolted them to thetimbers, and when the tide made she floated, so that the boards wereseveral feet above water and the top all dry.
The next morning Joe Griffin, after scratching his head a while,suddenly exclaimed, “Look here, neighbors: I don’t pretend to be anygreat of a sailor man, but I reckon I know how to handle timber, andput it where I want it--I do. I can plank this stage over, run it alittle farther aft, and take the oxen and twitch more lumber into thisvessel in an hour than you can put in in this way in half a day. Theymight split a board or two, but I don’t ’spose that would kill anybody.”
“Good on your head, Joe,” said Captain Rhines; “let’s see you do it.”
The bow of the craft, a few feet aft of the fore-mast, was closetimbered, as in ordinary boats; but from that to the mainmast wasa hole large enough to drive in three yoke of oxen abreast. Theylengthened their breastwork a little, hauled the craft alongside ofit, and made a stage of plank. The others laid the boards in twitches,and were all ready to hook the chain when Joe came for his boards; andhe hauled them into the vessel at a great rate, and dropped them justwhere Captain Rhines and Ben wanted them.
“Every man to his business,” said Ben; “I never heard of that way ofloading boards before.”
She was now half full. Captain Rhines then put into her a number oftight and strong empty hogs heads and barrels, and stowed the boards ontop of them. The effect of this was very quickly visible; she began toact like a vessel,--to rise and fall with the swell of the sea, and tobe quite lively.
“That tells the story,” said the captain; “we’ll give her a few more;there’s nothing like an empty cask; I’ll find a use for them when weget out there.”
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” said Joe; “why didn’t you put them waydown in the bottom of her, and fill her floor? she would have floatedas light as a feather.”
“If I had,” replied the captain, “she would have done like the boy whowent in swimming with the bladders.”
“How was that?”
“A boy had heard tell that bladders would float a person, and thoughthe would walk on the water with them; so he went down to the pond, tiedthe bladders on to his feet, and waded into the water: they found him,a few hours afterwards, feet up and head down, as dead as a herring;and that would have been the way with our craft.”
“What an ass I am!” said Joe; “ain’t I?”
“No; but you didn’t happen to think of that.”
“Joe,” said Ben, one night after work, “can you make a float?”
“No.”
“Then I’m all ashore. I’ve been thinking that, after you came back, youand I could make one before the kitchen fire this winter.”
“I tell you, though it seems to be a very simple thing, there’s a greatknack in making a float. I can make a hog’s trough, and christen it afloat, but to make one that will be stiff and light, and scull steadyand true, there’s only one man round here can do it.”
“Who’s that?”
“Uncle Sam Elwell.”
“Uncle Sam!” replied Ben, in amazement; “I didn’t know he could work inanything but rocks.”
“It’s my opinion that he can work in anything he has a mind to; but hewon’t touch anything but rocks, except it is a float or a gun-stock.He will make as neat a gun-stock as ever a man put to his face, or asnow-shoe; but if he wanted a door made to a pig-sty or a hen house, hewould go and build wall for Uncle Isaac, while he made them for him;or if his wife wanted a chopping-tray or a bread-trough, she might wantit till she could get Uncle Isaac to make it for her. Whatever he wantsfor hunting or fishing, he’ll find a way to make, fast enough; it’s mysolid belief he’d make a gun-barrel if he couldn’t get one in any otherway.”
“Do you think he would come over here in the winter, and make a float?”
“To be sure he would; he is doing nothing in the winter but takingcare of his cattle; and there’s not a calm day but he and Uncle Isaacare out in their float after game. Why, I’ve known them old critters,when they wanted to be in a certain place at half tide to shoot harvestducks, to lie down on the beach in the night and go to sleep, till thewater flowed up around their knees and woke them up.”
“We’ll hew it out, at any rate; that’ll save him some work.”
“I wouldn’t; he’s a particular old toad, and would rather have it justas it grew; but if you touch it, he’ll think you’ve taken off somewhere you ought not to, and spilte it; he’ll no more thank you forsaving him labor on a float-piece, than a feller would thank you forcourting a girl for him; he’d rather do it himself.”
Ben sent word to Uncle Sam, who replied that same day, that when he andIsaac were out gunning they would come and look at it.
“Didn’t I tell you so?” said Joe. “I wager my head that they’ll bothof them come over here and make it: what a good time they will haveputtering over it, and passing their compliments upon each other! It’smy opinion, that when them old men die they won’t be buried with theirwives, but alongside of each other. Uncle Isaac thinks so highly of theIndians, I expect he believes as they do, and thinks that he and Samwill go hunting in the other world.”
They now made sail, and ran her over into Captain Rhines’s cove, andcame to anchor. They found upon trial, that although she was clumsy inworking, she minded her helm, and sailed beyond their most sanguineexpectations.
“I declare, Ben!” said Captain Rhines; “who would have thought shewould go through the water so; we’ve got her sparred just right, if wedid do it by guess. She’s like old Aunt Molly Bradish--better than shelooks.”
They now took on board some spare spars, and Captain Rhines took alarge barrel of oil.
“Heavens!” said Joe Griffin; “the old man calculates on a long voyage,if he expects to burn all that.”
The Ark, as they called her, was most appropriately named, both inrespect to her proportions and her cargo. Captain Rhines had resortedto a custom common in those days. He gave his c
rew merely nominalwages,--four dollars a month,--and the mates in proportion; but, inaddition to this, he gave them a “privilege,” as it was called; thatis, a certain space to carry whatever they liked, to sell in the WestIndies. Produce was not carried there from all parts of the world inthose days, as at present; and a barrel or two of onions or beets wouldbring twenty-five or thirty dollars. Live stock also brought a greatprice, although they were very apt to be lost on the passage. CaptainRhines carried candles for his “venture,” as it was called; JohnStrout, horses; Charlie sent hens, baskets, and turnips as freight.
In the morning, when they were all fed, there was such a cackling ofhens, bleating of sheep, and all kinds of noises, as was really quitewonderful.
A great many people came from all parts to look at her, and many andvarious were the criticisms. Some thought she would never get there;more thought she would; but all agreed in this--that if anybody in theworld could get her there, it was Captain Ben Rhines. Uncle Isaac’sjudgment was greatly respected by all.
“Mr. Murch,” said Isaac Pettigrew, “you don’t seem to be at allconsarned, though your nephew is going in her. What makes you so easy?”
“Because,” replied he, “a lucky man is master.”
One night, as the captain and his family were at the supper-table,there came in a negro, very black, and of truly vast proportions, whomCaptain Rhines addressed by the singular appellation of Flour. Thisnickname he obtained in this manner. He was a man of great strength,and a thorough seaman, but he often shipped as cook, because he hadhigher wages; and a most excellent cook he was: he was also perfectlyhonest, and, like most very powerful men, of an excellent disposition;but he would get drunk whenever the opportunity offered, insomuch thatthey often put him in jail, and locked him up till the vessel was readyfor sea. Sometimes he would stay ashore for a year or two, and thenget tired and start off. He was always in demand, notwithstanding thisfailing,--the economical captains never hesitating to go one hand shortwhen they had Flour (alias James Peterson) for cook, as he was alwaysready to lend a hand, and was worth three common men in bad weather.
Some roguish boys, one day when he had been drinking, got him into astore, and putting molasses on his wool, covered it with flour, puttinga layer of flour and molasses till his head was as big as a halfbushel. After this he went by the name of Flour, and answered to it asreadily as to his own name, that dropping out of use entirely.
He was a slave, while slaves were held in New England, and had beenmany voyages with Captain Rhines, who used to hire him of Peterson, hismaster, to whom he was so much attached that he would never leave him,although he had every opportunity to run away when at sea; and not eventhe love of liquor could prevent him from bringing home a present forhis master.
“Massa cap’n,” said the black, “dey tells me you’s gwine to sail thesalt seas again. Massa, if you is goin’, this nigger would like to gowid you.”
“Well, we’ve been a good many cruises together. Wife, give Flour somesupper, and then we’ll talk it over. I suppose,” said the captain,after supper, “you’ve got dry, and want some of that augerdent[A] theSpanish make. It’s fiery stuff, and will burn your coppers all up; youhad better drink old West India. Wife, give him a glass of that SantaCruz.”
[A] Aguardiente.
“Thank you, massa cap’n.”
“But I ain’t going to give much of any wages; they are going to have a‘privilege’--mates and all. I tell you, we are like old Noah; we’ve gotcattle, and feathered fowl, beasts clean and unclean.”
“Massa, me have privilege, too.”
“What have you got to carry?”
“Me got an onion patch, massa,--my ole woman raise him; got somebayberry taller,--Spaniards buy him quick to put in de candle; make himhard so he no melt. Me talk Spanish all same as one Spaniard; me tell’em all about it.”
“But how will you get back? I am going to sell the craft.”
“O, massa, you know I good sailor man; you give me what you callrecommend, I get a chance in some ship to go somewhere--don’t carewhere; my ole woman so debilish ugly me no want to come back. LastMonday mornin’ she break de skillet; she kill my dog; she put thistleunder my horse’s tail when I goes to de store, so he fling me over hishead--most break my neck.”
“Perhaps she thought you went to the store too often. And what did youdo to her?”
“I beat her with the well-pole. When we were slaves to ole massa shewell enough; but since freedom came I no live with her--she no mind meat all.”
“Well, Flour, I give the men four dollars a month, and their privilege.I’ll give you six, and your grog, and all the privilege you want; but Ishall expect you to lend us a hand in bad weather, and perhaps take thehelm, for there’s not a man in the vessel can steer in bad weather asyou.”
“O, massa, you know this darky; he no be de last man when de watch iscalled.”
They were now all ready for sea, only waiting for a fair wind, andenough of it.
Charlie Bell, The Waif of Elm Island Page 16
