A Jolly Fellowship

  CHAPTER III.

  RECTUS OPENS HIS EYES.

  I was all right the next day, and we staid on deck most of the time,standing around the smoke-stack when our noses got a little blue withthe cold. There were not many other people on deck. I was expectingyoung Rectus to have his turn at sea-sickness, but he disappointed me.He spent a good deal of his time calculating our position on a littlefolding-map he had. He inquired how fast we were going, and then heworked the whole thing out, from Sandy Hook to Savannah, marking on themap the hours at which he ought to be at such and such a place. He triedhis best to get his map of the course all right, and made a good manyalterations, so that we were off Cape Charles several times in thecourse of the day. Rectus had never been very good at calculations, andI was glad to see that he was beginning to take an interest in suchthings.

  The next morning, just after day-break, we were awakened by a good dealof tramping about on deck, over our heads, and we turned out, sharp, tosee what the matter was. Rectus wanted me to wait, after we weredressed, until he could get out his map and calculate where we were, butI couldn't stop for such nonsense, for I knew that his kind ofnavigation didn't amount to much, and so we scrambled up on deck. Theship was pitching and tossing worse than she had done yet. We had beenpractising the "sea-leg" business the day before, and managed to walkalong pretty well; but this morning our sea-legs didn't work at all, andwe couldn't take a step without hanging on to something. When we got ondeck, we found that the first officer, or mate,--his name wasRandall,--with three or four sailors, was throwing the lead to see howdeep the water was. We hung on to a couple of stays and watched them. Itwas a rousing big lead, a foot long, and the line ran out over a pulleyat the stern. A sailor took the lead a good way forward before he threwit, so as to give it a chance to get to the bottom before the steamerpassed over it and began to tow it. When they pulled it in, we weresurprised to see that it took three men to do it. Then Mr. Randallscooped out a piece of tallow that was in a hollow in the bottom of thelead, and took it to show to the captain, whose room was on deck. I knewthis was one way they had of finding out where they were, for theyexamined the sand or mud on the tallow, and so knew what sort of abottom they were going over; and all the different kinds of bottom weremarked out on their charts.

  As Mr. Randall passed us, Rectus sung out to him, and asked him where wewere now.

  "Off Hatteras," said he, quite shortly.

  I didn't think Rectus should have bothered Mr. Randall with questionswhen he was so busy; but after he went into the captain's room, the mendid not seem to have much to do, and I asked one of them how deep itwas.

  "About seventeen fathoms," said he.

  "Can we see Cape Hatteras?" I said, trying to get a good look landwardas the vessel rolled over that way.

  "No," said the man. "We could see the light just before day-break, butthe weather's gettin' thick now, and we're keepin' out."

  It was pretty thick to the west, that was true. All that I could see inthe distance was a very mixed-up picture of wave-tops and mist. I knewthat Cape Hatteras was one of the most dangerous points on the coast,and that sailors were always glad when they had safely rounded it, andso I began to take a good deal of interest in what was going on. Therewas a pretty strong wind from the south-east, and we had no sail set atall. Every now and then the steamer would get herself up on top of a bigwave, and then drop down, sideways, as if she were sliding off the topof a house. The mate and the captain soon came out on deck together, andthe captain went forward to the pilot-house, while Mr. Randall came overto his men, and they got ready to throw the lead again. It didn't seemto me that the line ran out as far as it did the last time, and I thinkI heard Mr. Randall say, "Fourteen." At any rate, a man was sent forwardto the pilot-house, and directly we heard the rudder-chains creaking,and the big iron arms of the rudder, which were on deck, moved overtoward the landward side of the vessel, and I knew by that that thecaptain was putting her head out to sea. Mr. Randall took out the tallowfrom the lead and laid it in an empty bucket that was lashed to thedeck. He seemed to be more anxious now about the depth of water thanabout the kind of bottom we were passing over. The lead was just aboutto be thrown again, when Rectus, who had taken the tallow out of thebucket, which stood near us, and had examined it pretty closely, startedoff to speak to Mr. Randall, with the tallow in his hand.

  "'HOLD YOUR TONGUE!' ROARED MR. RANDALL."]

  "Look here!" said Rectus, holding on to the railing. "I'll tell you whatwould be a sight better than tallow for your leads. Just you get somefine, white Castile-soap, and----"

  "Confound you!" roared Mr. Randall, turning savagely on him. "Hold yourtongue! For three cents I'd tie you to this line and drag the bottomwith you!"

  Rectus made no answer. He didn't offer him the three cents, but cameaway promptly, and put the piece of tallow back in the bucket. He didn'tget any comfort from me.

  "Haven't you got any better sense," I said to him, "than to go, withyour nonsense, to the first officer at such a time as this? I never sawsuch a boy!"

  "But the soap _is_ better than the tallow," said Rectus. "It's finer andwhiter, and would take up the sand better."

  "No, it wouldn't," I growled at him; "the water would wash it out inhalf a minute. You needn't be trying to tell anybody on this ship whatthey ought to do."

  "But supposing----" said he.

  "No," I exclaimed, in a way that made him jump, "there's no supposingabout it. If you know their business better than they do, why, just letit stand that way. It wont hurt you."

  I was pretty mad, I must say, for I didn't want to see a fellow likeRectus trying to run the ship. But you couldn't stay mad with Rectuslong. He didn't mean any wrong, and he gave no words back, and so, asyou might expect, we were all right again by breakfast-time.

  The next morning we were surprised to feel how warm it was on deck. Wedidn't need our overcoats. The sea was ever so much smoother, too. Therewere two or three ladies on deck, who could walk pretty well.

  About noon, I was standing on the upper deck, when I saw Rectus comingtoward me, looking very pale. He was generally a dark sort of a boy, andit made a good deal of difference in him to look pale. I was sure he wasgoing to be sick, at last,--although it was rather queer for him toknock under when the voyage was pretty nearly over,--and I began tolaugh, when he said to me, in a nervous sort of way:

  "I tell you what it is, I believe that we've gone past the mouth of theSavannah River. According to my calculations," said he, pointing to aspot on his map, which he held in his hand, "we must be down about here,off the Georgia coast."

  I have said that I began to laugh, and now I kept on. I just sat downand roared, so that the people looked at me.

  "You needn't laugh," said Rectus. "I believe it's so."

  "All right, my boy," said I; "but we wont tell the captain. Just let'swait and have the fun of seeing him turn around and go back."

  Rectus didn't say anything to this, but walked off with his map.

  "RECTUS SHOWED ME THE MAP."]

  Now, that boy was no fool. I believe that he was beginning to feel likedoing something, and, as he had never done anything before, he didn'tknow how.

  About twelve o'clock we reached the mouth of the Savannah (withoutturning back), and sailed twenty miles up the river to the city.

  We were the first two persons off that vessel, and we took a hack to thehotel that the purser had recommended to us, and had the satisfaction ofreaching it about ten minutes ahead of the people who came in theomnibus; although I don't know that that was of much use to us, as theclerk gave us top rooms, any way.

  We went pretty nearly all over Savannah that afternoon and the next day.It's a beautiful city. There is a little public square at nearly everycorner, and one of the wide streets has a double row of big treesrunning right down the middle of it, with grass under them, and, whatseemed stranger yet, the trees were all in leaf, little children wereplaying on the grass, and the weather was warm and splendid. The gardensin fron
t of the houses were full of roses and all sorts of flowers inblossom, and Rectus wanted to buy a straw hat and get his linen trousersout of his trunk.

  "No, sir," said I; "I'm not going around with a fellow wearing a strawhat and linen breeches in January. You don't see anybody else wearingthem."

  "No," said he; "but it's warm enough."

  "You may think so," I answered; "but I guess they know their ownbusiness best. This is their coldest season, and if they wore straw hatsand linen clothes now, what would they put on when the scorching hotweather comes?"

  Rectus didn't know, and that matter was dropped. There is a pretty parkat the back of the town, and we walked about it, and sat under thetrees, and looked at the flowers, and the fountain playing, and enjoyedit ever so much. If it had been summer, and we had been at home, weshouldn't have cared so much for these things; but sitting under trees,and lounging about over the green grass, while our folks at home were upto their eyes, or thereabouts, in snow and ice, delighted both of us,especially Rectus. I never heard him talk so much.

  We reached Savannah on Tuesday, and were to leave in the steamer for St.Augustine Thursday afternoon. Thursday morning we went out to thecemetery of Bonaventure, one of the loveliest places in the whole world,where there are long avenues of live-oaks that stretch from one side ofthe road to the other, like great covered arbors, and from every limb ofevery tree hang great streamers of gray moss, four and five feet long.It was just wonderful to look at. The whole place seemed dripping withwaving fringe. Rectus said it looked to him as if this was a graveyardfor old men, and that every old fellow had had to hang his beard on atree before he went down into his grave.

  This was a curious idea for Rectus to have, and the colored man who wasdriving us--we went out in style, in a barouche, but I wouldn't do thatkind of thing again without making a bargain beforehand--turned aroundto look at him as if he thought he was a little crazy. Rectus wascertainly in high spirits. There was a sort of change coming over him.His eyes had a sparkle in them that I never saw before. No one couldsay that he didn't take interest in things now. I think the warm weatherhad something to do with it.

  "I tell you what it is, Gordon," said he,--he still called me Gordon,and I didn't insist on "Mr.," because I thought that, on the whole,perhaps it wouldn't do,--"I'm waking up. I feel as if I had been asleepall my life, and was just beginning to open my eyes."

  A graveyard seemed a queer place to start out fresh in this way, but itwasn't long before I found that, if Rectus hadn't really wakened up, hecould kick pretty hard in his sleep.

  Nothing much happened on the trip down to St. Augustine, for wetravelled nearly all the way by night. Early the next morning we werelying off that old half Spanish town, wishing the tide would rise sothat we could go in. There is a bar between two islands that lie infront of the town, and you have to go over that to get into the harbor.We were on the "Tigris," the Bahama steamer that touched at St.Augustine on her way to Nassau, and she couldn't get over that bar untilhigh tide. We were dreadfully impatient, for we could see the old town,with its trees, all green and bright, and its low, wide houses, and agreat light-house, marked like a barber's pole or a stick ofold-fashioned mint-candy, and, what was best of all, a splendid oldcastle, or fort, built by the Spaniards three hundred years ago! Wedeclared we would go there the moment we set foot on shore. In fact, wesoon had about a dozen plans for seeing the town.

  If we had been the pilots, we would have bumped that old steamer overthe bar, somehow or other, long before the real pilot started her in;but we had to wait. When we did go in, and steamed along in front of theold fort, we could see that it was gray and crumbling, and moss-coveredin places, and it was just like an oil-painting. The whole town, infact, was like an oil-painting to us.

  The moment the stairs were put down, we scuffled ashore, and left thesteamer to go on to the Bahamas whenever she felt like it. We gave ourvalises and trunk-checks to a negro man with a wagon, and told him totake the baggage to a hotel that we could see from the wharf, and thenwe started off for the fort. But on my way along the wharf I made up mymind that, as the fort had been there for three hundred years, it wouldprobably stand a while longer, and that we had better go along with ourbaggage, and see about getting a place to live in, for we were not goingto be in any hurry to leave St. Augustine.

  We didn't go to any hotel at all. I had a letter of introduction to aMr. Cholott, and on our way up from the wharf, I heard some one call outthat name to a gentleman. So I remembered my letter, and went up andgave it to him. He was a first-rate man, and when we told him where wewere going, we had quite a talk, and he said he would advise us to go toa boarding-house. It would be cheaper, and if we were like most boysthat he knew, we'd like it better. He said that board could be had withseveral families that he knew, and that some of the Minorcans tookboarders in the winter.

  Of course, Rectus wanted to know, right away, what a Minorcan was. Ididn't think it was exactly the place to ask questions which probablyhad long answers, but Mr. Cholott didn't seem to be in a hurry, and hejust started off and told us about the Minorcans. A chap calledTurnbull, more than a hundred years ago, brought over to Florida a lotof the natives of the island of Minorca, in the Mediterranean, and begana colony. But he was a mean sort of chap; he didn't care for anythingbut making money out of the Minorcans, and it wasn't long before theyfound it out, for he was really making slaves of them. So they just roseup and rebelled, and left old Turnbull to run his colony by himself.Served him right, too. They started off on their own accounts, and mostof them came to this town, where they settled, and have had a good timeever since. There are a great many of them here now, descendants of theoriginal Minorcans, and they keep pretty much together and keep theirold name, too. They look a good deal like Spaniards, Mr. Cholott said,and many of them are very excellent people.

  Rectus took the greatest interest in these Minorcans, but we didn't takeboard with any of them. We went to the house of a lady who was a friendof Mr. Cholott, and she gave us a splendid room, that looked right outover the harbor. We could see the islands, and the light-house, and thebar with the surf outside, and even get a glimpse of the ocean. We sawthe "Tigris" going out over the bar. The captain wanted to get out onthe same tide he came in on, and he did not lose any time. As soon asshe got fairly out to sea, we hurried down, to go to the fort. Butfirst, Rectus said, we ought to go and buy straw hats. There were lotsof men with straw hats in St. Augustine. This was true, for it was justas warm here as we have it in June, and we started off to look for astraw-hat store.

  We found that we were in one of the queerest towns in the world. Rectussaid it was all back-streets, and it looked something that way. Thestreets were very narrow, and none of them had any pavement but sand andpowdered shell, and very few had any sidewalks. But they didn't seem tobe needed. Many of the houses had balconies on the second story, whichreached toward each other from both sides of the street, and this gavethe town a sociable appearance. There were lots of shops, and most ofthem sold sea-beans. There were other things, like alligators' teeth,and shells, and curiosities, but the great trade of the town seemed tobe in sea-beans.[A] Rectus and I each bought one for our watch-chains.

  I think we tried on every straw hat in town, and we bought a couple in alittle house, where two or three young women were making them. Rectusasked me, in a low voice, if I didn't think one of the young women was aMohican. I hushed him up, for it was none of his business if she was. Ihad a good deal of trouble in making Rectus say "Minorcan." Whenever wehad met a dark-haired person, he had said to me: "Do you think that is aMohican?" It was a part of his old school disposition to get thingswrong in this way. But he never got angry when I corrected him. Histemper was perfect.

  I bought a common-sized hat, but Rectus bought one that spread out farand wide. It made him look like a Japanese umbrella. We stuffed our felthats into our pockets, and started for the fort. But I looked at mywatch and found it was supper-time. I had suspected it when I came outof the hat-shop. The sea
-trip and fine air here had given us tremendousappetites, which our walk had sharpened.

  So we turned back at once and hurried home, agreeing to begin square onthe fort the next day.

  FOOTNOTES:

  [A] Sea-beans are seeds of a West Indian tree. They are of differentcolors, very hard, and capable of being handsomely polished. They arecalled "sea-beans" because great numbers of them drift up on the Floridaand adjacent coasts.