CHAPTER XIII.
CAPTAIN RHINES AND DICK CAMERON.
During the day they were occupied in discharging cargo, were tiredat night, and turned in early to make up their sleep. But the nightfollowing the same company assembled again in the cabin of the Arthur.
"Now," said Captain Rhines, "for the crew."
"Ned and I are officers and crew," said Walter; "we can handle her."
"You could handle her in good weather, or in a gale of wind, if it gaveyou time, but you might lose your masts in a sudden squall; besides,you must have more than one in a watch. You must have a lookout, andyou might have a scuffle to get Peterson. You must have two men, anda boy for a cook: one stout, reliable man, an able seaman, and anordinary, or stout, smart boy, eighteen or nineteen. One of you may besick, or washed overboard. However, there's time enough for that. Ithink I know where to find the able seaman."
A week after this Captain Rhines takes a walk to "Black Dog Alley."
"Where is Dick Cameron?" he inquired of the bar-keeper.
"On that bench," pointing to a wooden settee, on which lay Dick, drunkand sound asleep.
"Been out all night?"
"Ay."
"Got the 'horrors'?"
"Never has 'em; head's too hard."
"I suppose you had his advance."
"Yes."
"How much money has he left?"
"When his board is paid, Saturday night, he'll have three dollars andsome cents left."
"Has he sold or pawned his clothes?"
"No. He has boarded with me, off and on, a good many years, and I neverknew him to do that."
"Well, will you ask him to meet me at Washburn's at four o'clock thisafternoon?"
"I will."
At the appointed time the captain found Dick on the spot.
"Dick, how many times, since we have been acquainted, have I told youthat you was an out-and-out fool?"
"Shiver my limbs if I know, cap'n; mayhap as many times as there areyarns in the best bower cable."
"It has done a great deal of good. You are just the same old sixpenceyou were when you sailed with me, fifteen years ago."
"Well, cap'n, you take a little something when you have a mind. Whyshouldn't an old sailor--that nobody cares anything about, and that'sgoing to be thrown overboard when he's worn out, just like the cook'shot water and ashes--take his comfort while he can? I tell you, cap'n,you don't know anything about it. It ain't so easy to get clear of yourshipmates. Here's mayhap half a dozen, or mayhap twenty-five of us,been on a long vige or a short vige. We come ashore; go to a boardinghouse. They treats me. Of course I must treat them. One glass brings onanother, till we are all blind drunk."
"_Don't_ I know all about it? Haven't I been through it all? Wasn't I asailor, before the mast, years and years?"
"Not such a sailor as Dick Cameron, poor, God-forsaken devil. When yougot into port, you had something ahead. You had a good home, father,mother, brothers and sisters, way back in the bush, that you carriedto sea with you in your heart. When you turned in, and when you turnedout, they turned in and turned out with you. They were close by you allthe while. When you was at the wheel, on the lookout, or walking thedeck in the middle watch, they were there. When you got farther alongyou thought of that young wife, dutiful woman, the little children, thetrees you had planted; and though, mayhap, your body was in Trieste,Antigua, or Calcutta, your heart was at home with the wife and thelittle ones. You could see their faces, hear the fire snap. The momentyou got in, and the vessel was made fast, the grass didn't grow underyour feet till you was at home. You didn't see anything else. Youlooked right over everything else to that home."
"That is true, Dick, every word of it."
"You see, cap'n, with all these shrouds, and head-stays, and back-staysto hold you up, you could take your liquor in moderation, and stop whenyou had enough. But here's old Dick comes ashore. He's no parents,no home; nothing but his shipmates. They go to a rum mill. He's adrunkard, they are drunkards, and you know the rest. I drew up a strongresolution this time. Before I come ashore, says I to myself, 'I'lltake my glass in moderation, just as my old cap'n, Ben Rhines, used to,and not make a beast of myself.' But it all ended in smoke."
"I don't take my glass in moderation, Dick. I've knocked off; flung itall overboard. Ben has done the same. We don't drink, nor keep it inthe house."
"That's a go, now! Slipped the cable, and let the end run out thehawse-hole?"
"Yes, Dick; and haven't buoyed the cable, neither."
"But what was the need of that? You never abused yourself with liquor.You could stop at the score."
"Ben begun it. You know John Strout, who was such a great friend ofhis."
"Was mate of the Leonidas?"
"The same. Well, he fell overboard drunk, after getting his liquor atBen's house. Ben swore then that he'd never drink another drop, and henever has. I held out a good while; but at length I found I was makingdrunkards of the young folks by the wholesale. They had no idea ofimitating old Uncle Yelf, who died drunk among the pigs; but they weregoing to do like Captain Rhines, who drank in moderation; and threefourths of them ended in becoming drunkards."
"This is all very fine for you, cap'n; but here's poor Dick comesashore, goes into a boarding-house. If he don't drink, his shipmatestell him he's no part of a man. The landlord tells him, says he, 'Dick,you're a disgrace to the place. You're taking the shingles off thehouse, the shoes off my children's feet. You must drink for the good ofthe house.' I've no home to go to, no place to be decent in."
Our readers must recollect this was long before the era of "sailors'homes."
"Look here, my old web-foot," said the captain, bringing down his handon Dick's shoulder with a force that would have made a less stalwartman wince; "you shall have a place to be decent in. You shall go homewith me."
"_Go home with you_, cap'n! What could you do with such a roughcustomer as me? I should scare your family. You wouldn't try to makea farmer of an old shell-back. I might, perhaps, do something withhorses, for my father carried the king's mail from Greenock; and, sinceI was knee high to a toad, I have been used to horses; but it's littleold Dick knows about your horned cattle."
"I'll tell you what I want of you. Have you forgotten James Peterson,that used to go with me?"
"I never had any shipmate of that name that I knows of."
"Yes, you had. He was a negro. I used to hire him of his master. He waswith us in the James Welch to Cadiz the time I had the big dog."
"I don't mind any nigger, only Flour."
"Well, it's _Flour_ I mean. His real name is Peterson."
"Ay, I mind him well, and liked him well."
"You know the blacks are free here at the north since the war."
"I've heard so. Then they are a mighty sight better off than thesailors."
"He went out of here to Martinique, with a great villain, in one of ourvessels. I coaxed him to go, because it was hard to get a crew; and therascal has sold him to a planter there. I am going to have him back."
"If you can get him."
"I shall get him."
"Why don't you get your government to demand him of the Frenchgovernment, if he's a citizen, and save the expense and trouble?"
"They have no government that amounts to anything. They don't like usbecause we won't go into a war with England on their account. Petersonmight die of old age, and I likewise, before they could be got to movein the matter. Ben has got a vessel that sails like a witch; she hasbeen repaired this winter past; we are going to put new rigging and anew suit of sails on her; and two of our boys have volunteered to takecharge, and go after Peterson, and get him back by hook or by crook."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to go home with me. You, myself, and Ben will cut and makethe sails, rig and load her. You will live in my family, get all thesalt junk and bad rum out of you, be amongst steady people, away fromtemptation, go out in the vessel with the boys, and, perhaps, a couplemore of
our young men; no rum, no landlords, no drunken shipmates. I'llgive you better wages than you ever had in your life, because youshall have a share of the profits when the voyage is up. I'll build youa vessel; and, as you are no navigator, you shall coast along the shorein her, Captain Richard Cameron, marry some one of our good girls,and be a man. Is not there a chance to be decent? and do as I havedone--let the liquor alone."
"God bless you, cap'n; will you do all that for old Dick?"
"I will, and there's my hand on it."
The seaman grasped the extended hand of his benefactor, exclaiming,"I'll do it, cap'n. Don't think the manhood is all so leached out of meby rum and bad company that I can't rally with such a motive as that."
"I don't want you to feel that the obligation is all on one side. Itis not so. I know you, Richard Cameron, through and through; you are acool, resolute, powerful, noble-hearted man. I never expected to meetyou again; but I have always said, that, in a real trying time, youwere worth any two men I ever had. I can't help thinking you have beensent to help me at this present time. You have had experience, and areseasoned to all climates and all kind of hardships, and you may have tothrottle somebody."
"I don't profess to be much of a saint, cap'n; but, if there's anythrottling to do, I am as good as the next one."
"Well, take your dunnage, and come right on board the brigantine.There's room enough and grub enough. You'll get acquainted with theboys, and be out of harm's way."
After listening to the story of Percival, the captain had writtento his wife, recounting all the particulars. Such a commotion as itcreated in the quiet community of Pleasant Cove has rarely been seen.Peterson was known and liked by every one. The story, with all mannerof additions and exaggerations, flew from mouth to mouth, increasingas it went, formed the staple of conversation at every fireside, andexcited universal concern and indignation. It was asserted that he wascompelled to work every day with a ball and chain fastened to his leg,and flogged till the blood ran. Persons who would hardly have spokento him if they had met him on the street before his misfortune wereoutrageous at this violation of the rights of an American citizen. Anynumber of plans were devised; some were for bringing the matter beforePresident Washington at once; others proposed to raise money to ransomhim; but it was finally concluded to wait till Captain Rhines camehome, who, no one doubted, would stir at once in the matter.
Sewall Lancaster expressed his willingness to go, and Captain Rhinesgladly accepted him, as he was well acquainted in Martinique and withtheir trade; and, two days after the Arthur Brown was discharged, thecaptain, with the boys and seamen, started in a coaster for PleasantCove.
They found everything ripe and ready for their purpose. Lion Ben toldthe boys they were welcome to the schooner, and refused to receive acent of remuneration.
The whole community rose up as one man to load her. Every householdcontributed its supply of butter, candles, and vegetables.
Captain Rhines said if they were going round to the plantations it wasno use to carry fowl, as there were enough there; but they took a fewto sell in St. Pierre, as everybody was eager to contribute something,and some who had nothing else could furnish fowls.
Twenty-five young men, with Charlie Bell at their head, went into hiswoods, cut down the trees, rolled them into the pond, floated themto the saw-mill, sawed them into joist, and framed the small houses.Others contributed money to buy locks, hinges, and nails.
The boys were not permitted to contribute a cent, it being agreed onall sides that whatever was made should be divided between the rescuersand Peterson's family. Captain Rhines had also brought with him in thecoaster from Boston a large lot of spermaceti candles, which ArthurBrown, Mr. Welch, and the crew of the brigantine contributed.
I trust you will not think that Captain Rhines, Lion Ben, and the boyswere idle amid all this commotion. You may believe this experiencedseaman, and the boys, full of enthusiasm, made the Perseverance looksaucy enough. Dick Cameron was in the right place now. As they sewed onthe sails, he told yarns that excited as much laughter as wonder; forDick, as our readers may suspect, was a jolly soul, and, as he was inagreeable company, had a clear conscience, was full of good resolutionsand new-born hopes, a happier fellow you never saw. They grafted,hitched, and pointed every rope on board of her that admitted of it,even to the bucket-rope, and holy-stoned the deck till it was whiteas snow. Didn't they put the muslin on her--a bonnet on her jib forlight winds, a lug foresail that trimmed way aft to the tiller-head, asquaresail that travelled on an up-and-down stay, and two gaff-topsailsthat set from the deck? These were all kites for light winds, and couldbe set or taken in very quick. I wish you could have seen her boat. Thereaders of the Elm Island Stories know very well that Charlie Bell wasby no means slow as respected boat-building, and was a complete epitomeof progress.
Just after they began to repair the Perseverance, his old father saidto him one day, as they sat before the fire,--
"Charlie, they have a new fashion of building boats in France."
"How is that, father?"
"Why, instead of doing as you do, and getting natural crooks fortimbers, they saw them out of a white-oak plank, or whatever kind ofwood they make them of, put them into a steam-box, and bend them. Theygenerally get natural crooks for stem, stern-post, and floor-timbers;but often they saw them out of plank, because timber is not so plentythere as here, and necessity has driven them to it."
"I see, father," said Charlie, "you could build two boats in that waywhile you were building one in our fashion."
Charlie instantly set to work, at odd jobs, to build a boat for thePerseverance that should take the fly off of everything. It was a laborof love, because he meant to make a present of it to Lion Ben, and feltall the enthusiasm naturally connected with new ideas.
He made the stem, stern-post, sharp-risers, and floor-timbers of appletree, which takes a very good polish, and the other timbers from planksawed out of small, second-growth white-oak butts, tough enough forox-goads, and as blue as a whet-stone. The excellent quality of thewood enabled him to secure sufficient strength, and yet make them quitesmall and neat. She was planked with the best of cedar.
He then made a fancy rudder, fancy oars, mast, and boom, andpainted her white to correspond. As she was small, Lion Ben made ashoulder-of-mutton sail for her, which shape brought the body of thesail low in the boat, enabling her to carry it much longer. She wasjust the prettiest, lightest thing imaginable; and she would streak itwith a good breeze. After work at night, the boys did enjoy sailing inher. Pleasantly and swiftly did these days pass away. They hardly atetwo meals in the same house; for they were universal favorites, and allwanted to have the boys at their houses, and it was only on Sabbathdays that Walter spent the day at home.
Again he sat beside Charlie Bell in the old church, and had many apleasant talk with him; but Walter was obliged to tell Charlie, that,although he had often thought of that moonlight talk by the brook, andhow vividly, among the crumbling ruins of the old castle, the powerof association recalled that conversation, he had complied with hisrequest no farther than to repeat the Lord's Prayer with Ned then, andever after when he retired to rest.
The Perseverance was now ready for sea; as Dick Cameron said,everything about her was ship-shape and Bristol fashion. Never did moregood wishes and fervent prayers follow a craft than followed her, as,with a wholesale breeze, she weighed anchor, and went down the baylike a race-horse. Reluctantly the crowd of spectators left the heightsfrom which they had watched her as she faded from view, and slowlysought their different places of abode.