Kitobni o'qish: «The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea»
Chapter One
My first Adventure – Programme of Travel – Off across the Atlantic – The Mississippi – How we got snagged – I save Peter Roberts – The Cayman’s Company – The Island Refuge
The love of travel was a family instinct, and was born with me. My maternal grandfather went to Central Africa – at least, he left us intending to do so, but never came back again. I had a great uncle who voyaged three times round the world, and one sailor uncle who, half a century ago, spent a winter at the North Pole along with Parry and Franklin. Then I had a cousin who was very ambitious of reaching the moon, and spent his life in studying its maps and making preparations for the journey, which, however, he never accomplished. When asked when he was going to start, he always replied that he had deferred his journey for six months – circumstances requiring his longer sojourn on this planet Tellus; but he never expressed the slightest doubt about his being able ultimately to accomplish his proposed journey. I held him in great respect (which was more than any of the rest of the family did); but as my ambition never soared beyond an expedition round this sublunary globe, I resolved as soon as possible to commence my travels in the hopes of having the start of him.
My voluntary studies were of a character to feed my taste. The travels of the famed Baron Munchausen, “Gulliver’s Travels,” those of Sir John Mandeville and Marco Polo, were read by me over and over again. I procured others of a more modern date, and calculated to give more correct information regarding the present state of the world; but I stuck to my old friends, and pictured the globe to myself much in the condition in which they described it. Not having the patience to wait till I grew up, I resolved at the commencement of my summer holidays to start by myself, hoping to come back before their termination, having a full supply of adventures to narrate. I was some days maturing my plans and making preparations for my journey. I had denied myself such luxuries as had been brought to our school by the pieman, and had saved up my pocket-money – an exercise of self-denial which proved the earnestness of my resolve. I had had too several presents made to me by relations and friends who happened to be in the house. I paid a visit also to my cousin, Booby Skipwith, as he was called. I did not confide to him all my plans; but I hinted that I had one of great importance in hand, and, to my great delight, he presented me with a five-pound note, observing that he believed that such things were not current in the moon, and that, therefore, he could dispense with them. I hinted that if such was the case he might hand me out a few more, for that where I was going they would be greatly in demand; but it proved that this was the only one of which he was possessed.
I had got a small portmanteau, into which I packed all my best clothes and valuables, with a few glass beads and knives which I had purchased to bestow on any savages I might encounter. I had a lance-head brought home by my great uncle. With this I purposed manufacturing a lance for my defence. I knew that, as England is an island, I must cross the water. My idea, when on the other side, whether north, south, east, or west I did not care, was to purchase two steeds – one for myself and another for my luggage and a squire, whom I intended to find. I was certain that he would turn up somewhere, and be very faithful and brave. The first, thing, however, was to get away from home. I wrote an affectionate letter to my father, telling him that I was going on my travels as my ancestor had done, and that I should be back, I hoped, by the end of the holidays; that if I was not, it could not much signify, as I should be gaining more information from my intercourse with the great world than I could possibly hope to reap from the instruction of Dr Bumpus.
This done, one very fine morning I crept out of the house with my portmanteau on my shoulders, and getting over the park palings, so as not to be seen by the lodge-keeper, I stood ready for a coach that would pass by, I had ascertained, about that time. I waited anxiously, thinking that it must have already passed. At last I saw it coming along the road in a cloud of dust. I hailed it in a knowing way, handed up my portmanteau to be placed by the coachman in the boot under his feet, and climbing up behind in a twinkling before any questions were asked, away we bowled at a famous rate. “All right,” I thought; “I am now fairly off on my travels.” We had twenty miles to get to the railway station. Once in the train, I should be beyond pursuit. I had no fear of that, however. I should not be missed for some hours, and then no one would know in what direction I had gone.
We approached the station near Burton. My heart throbbed with eagerness. In a few minutes the train would be starting. The coach stopped before the hotel. At that a moment a gentleman on horseback was passing. He saw me before I had time to hide my face.
“Why, Harry, where are you going?” he exclaimed. It was my uncle, Roland Skipwith, the arctic voyager. He looked into the coach, expecting to see some one. “What, are you all alone? Where are you going, boy?”
“On my travels, uncle,” I answered, boldly, hoping that he might approve of my purpose, seeing that he was himself a great traveller. “You will not stop me, I know.”
“We’ll see about that,” he answered, in a tone I did not quite like. “Get down, youngster. I’ll give you a little advice on the subject. You can’t go by this train, that’s certain.”
While I reluctantly obeyed, he inquired of Tomkins, the coachman, how he came to bring me away from home. Tomkins apologised – thought that I was going on a visit to my aunt, Miss Rebecca Skipwith, who lived at Burton, and finished by handing out my portmanteau, and receiving my fare to Burton in exchange.
I was sold, that was clear enough. The portmanteau was deposited in the bar till the coach would return soon after noon.
“Come along,” said my uncle, who had given his horse to the hostler. “I have ridden over to breakfast with your Aunt Rebecca, so we’ll hear what she has to say on the matter.”
I felt rather foolish as he took my hand and led me away.
We soon reached Aunt Becky’s neat trim mansion. My uncle had time to say a few words to her before she saw me. She received me with her usual cordiality, for I was somewhat of a pet of hers. I was desperately hungry, and was soon seated at a table well spread with all sorts of appetising luxuries. My uncle, after a little time, when I had taken the edge off my hunger, began to question me as to my proposed plans, to an account of which he and Aunt Becky listened with profound gravity. I began to hope that he was going to approve of them, till suddenly he burst out laughing heartily. Aunt Becky joined him. I found that they had been hoaxing me. I was sold again. This was the last attempt I made during that period of my existence to commence my travels.
On arriving at manhood, and having just quitted college and had an independence left me, the desire once more came strongly on me to see the world – not the fashionable world, as an infinitesimal portion of the human race delight to call themselves, but the great big round globe, covered with our fellow-creatures of varied colours, languages, customs, and religions.
“Good-bye, Aunt Becky! I really and truly am off this time,” I exclaimed, as I rushed into my dear, good old aunt’s drawing-room at Burton, she looking as neat and trim as ever, being the perfection of nice old-maidenism, not a whit older than when, some thirteen years before, I had been brought there a prisoner by my uncle.
“Where are you going to, my dear?” asked Aunt Becky, lifting up her spectacles from her nose with a look of surprise.
“Oh, only just across the Atlantic, to take a run up and down North and South America, as a kind of experiment before I attempt a tour, by land and water, to China and Japan, and home again by way of Australia, New Zealand, and Tahiti, by the Panama route, which I mean to do some of these days.”
“Well, well,” said Aunt Becky, “you are a true Skipwith, and if that Captain Grant hadn’t got the start of you, I suppose you would have discovered the source of the Nile and the snow mountains under the equator, and, like Hercules, in that gem on my finger, which I wear for the sake of an old friend, have come home with a lion’s skin across your shoulder, or dressed up like an ape, as Monsieur de Chaillu did sometime ago. However, I shall wish, Harry, if you ever want an additional hundred pounds or so, draw on me; I have always some spare cash at the banker’s. But you’ll never came back if you attempt half you talk of doing. You’ll be scalped by Indians, or roasted and eaten by other savages; or be tossed by buffaloes, or lost in the snow; or be blown up in one of those dreadful American steamers, which seem to do nothing else; or you’ll catch a fever, or be cast away on a desolate island, and we shall never hear anything more of you; or something else dreadful will happen to you, I am certain.”
“Never mind, Aunt Becky; I shall be embalmed in your memory, at all events,” I answered; “and besides, I am going to have a companion to look after me.”
“Who can he be who would venture to accompany such a harum-scarum fellow as you are, Harry?” said my aunt, looking more satisfied.
“One who has ever proved faithful, aunt: his name is Ready.”
“Why, he’s your dog, Harry!” she exclaimed, disappointed.
“Could I have a more trustworthy and, at the same time, active and intelligent follower?” I asked. “I had thought of taking Bunbry,” (he was my father’s old butler, and remarkable for his obesity and laziness); “but you see, aunt, in the first place, my father could not spare him; and, in the second, he could not exactly keep up with me on a day’s march of thirty or forty miles, and would certainly be nowhere when chasing wild buffaloes, or hunting panthers or grizzly bears. So I gave up the idea of having a servant at all; and as for a friend, I don’t happen to be supplied with one ready to go, and I hope to find plenty on the way.”
Having at length consoled Aunt Becky, by assuring her that I would take very good care of myself, and promising to bring her home trophies from all the lands I should visit, I gave her a parting kiss, in return for her blessing, and a few days afterwards I found myself, with Liverpool astern, sailing down the Mersey on board the good ship Liberty, bound for New Orleans, which the people on board pronounced New Orle-e-ens.
The striped and starry banner waved over our heads. “There, now, that’s the flag of flags,” said the skipper, pointing to it. “You Britishers talk of your flag which has ‘braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze,’ but I guess that flag of ours will be flying proudly in every quarter of the globe when your old obsolete government will have come to a consummate smash.” He looked so savage at me, that Ready would have flown at his leg, had I not held him back.
I was determined not to be put out of temper, so I answered quietly —
“Now, captain, I should be very happy to suppose that your stars and stripes will fly to the end of the world; but I do not see why the banner of old England should not be allowed to wave as long. There’s room for both of us, surely. It’s my principle to live and let live.”
“Why, stranger, because you are not a nation of free men, you don’t know what true liberty is,” he replied, gnashing his teeth in a way which made Ready show his in return.
“Our old obsolete government showed that it appreciated liberty when, at a vast cost, it knocked off the shackles from every slave owned by a Briton,” I observed, calmly.
“I guess you’d better not touch on that there subject, stranger, when you get to New Orle-e-ens, or Judge Lynch may have a word to say to you,” croaked out the skipper, curling his nose, and giving a malicious wink at me while he squirted a stream of tobacco juice into the eye of poor Ready, who went howling round the deck with pain.
I took the hint, and held my tongue on the dark subject. It’s ill to talk of the gallows to a man whose father has been hung, and none but a Knight of La Mancha runs a tilt against windmills when travelling in foreign lands. Still, I say, do not do at Rome as Rome does, but protest, if not loudly, silently – by your conduct – against vice and immorality, and all the abominations you may meet with.
We had a large number of emigrants on board, who were fully persuaded that they were going to enjoy not only the most perfect government under the sun, but every blessing this world can supply. Poor people! how different did they find the reality. We kept to the southward of that mighty stream which, coming out of the Gulf of Mexico, sweeps away north, across the Atlantic, and, with its well-heated waters, adds considerably to the warmth of our shores at home. We saw neither floating icebergs, whales, nor sea serpents, but had several births and deaths, and at last made the island of St. Thomas, which appeared floating like a blue cloud on the ocean. As we drew nearer, a vast mountain rose before us, seemingly, directly out of the water, having a sterile summit, sprinkled round with spots of refreshing verdure. The harbour is in the form of an amphitheatre, and the land round, with its glittering white town on three hills, its old fort advancing into the sea, its green valleys, groves of cocoa-nuts, and fields of sugar-cane, is a highly picturesque spot. We put in to get a supply of water, fruit, vegetables, and fresh provisions; but, as the yellow fever was at the time carrying off about twenty of the inhabitants a day, negroes and mulattoes as well as white people, I was satisfied with admiring its beauties at a distance. Putting to sea again as fast as we could, we weathered the north-western point of Cuba, and entered the Gulf of Mexico, between that island and Florida.
About a week afterwards vast numbers of logs of wood, floating in yellow water, indicated that we were at the mouths of the Mississippi, for, of course, a mighty stream a thousand miles long, would not be content with one mouth, like our poor little humble Thames. The scenery, consisting of mud-banks and swamps, as far as the eye can reach, is not very attractive. It is curious to look back after making numerous windings, and to observe the sea over the mud-banks, considerably lower than the water on which the ship is floating. With a fair wind stemming the stream for a hundred and thirty miles, we found ourselves amid a crowd of vessels of all nations off New Orleans, the capital of Louisiana. It is a large handsome looking city, but, as the ground on which it stands is lower than the surface of the river, I could not help feeling, while I was there, that some night I might find myself washed out of my bed by its muddy waters.
Intending to return to New Orleans, I left my traps at my hotel, and embarked with Ready on board a huge steamer bound up the Mississippi. A cockney might describe her as like a Thames wherry with an omnibus on the top of it, and vast paddles outside all. I found that passengers could only ascend to the upper saloon, which ran the whole length of the vessel, the roof being of necessity sacred to the officers and crew. There were numerous galleries, however, on each side of the paddle-boxes, and forward and aft, whence I could observe the scenery. It was not very attractive, consisting chiefly of low swamps – the habitations of alligators and rattlesnakes. Here and there were more elevated spots, on which villages were perched, and patches where once the forest grew, but which were now covered with fields of sugar-cane, maize, and cotton bushes.
We were dashing on at a prodigious rate – I fancy the engineer must have been sitting on the safety-valve – when, feeling a dreadful concussion, and being thrown forward with my nose on the deck, I heard those around me exclaim, “Snagged!” “We are sinking!” A snag is a log of timber stuck sloping in the mud. Against one of these snags we had run. Down, down sank the huge machine. “Aunt Becky forgot to mention this, among the other modes of losing my life which she enumerated,” I thought to myself. “She forgot that Mississippi steamers could sink as well as blow up.” However, I had no intention of going out of the world just then, if I could help it.
The river was at that part very wide and shallow; but I observed an island not far off, and I hoped to reach it. If there were any boats round the vessel, there was no time to lower them. The awful plunge came. Some hundred human beings were hurled amid the turbid waters. Many were carried down with the vessel; others were shrieking piteously, and struggling for life. The weather was intensely hot. I had on but little clothing. I struck out towards the island. As I did so, the thought occurred to me, “For what purpose was my great strength given me? Surely to be of use to my fellow-creatures. I can save one of these poor people at all events.” I turned back. The first person I saw was a poor lad, who had been my fellow-passenger on board the Liberty. I had more than once spoken to him. His name was Peter. “Help, help!” he shrieked out. “Oh, Mr Skipwith, save me.” I caught him by the collar, and threw him on to my back. “There, Peter,” said I, “cling on, but don’t touch my arms, and, with Heaven’s support, I’ll carry you on shore.” The lad made no answer, but did as I bade him, and away Ready and I swam towards the island. I cannot forget the shrieks and cries for help of the unfortunate beings drowning round me. Now an arm was lifted up; now two hands in the attitude of supplication. Now the countenance of some strong man full of horror and despair came into view. Women and children were floating about, held up for a while by their clothes, and others were clinging to chairs, and stools, and bits of the wreck, which had risen to the surface. I felt many clutch at me. A sad necessity compelled me to shake them off. I should have endangered Peter’s life, as well as my own, had I attempted to help them.
It was no easy work. The current was strong, and there were eddies which whirled me round and round, while Mississippi’s muddy waters were less buoyant than those of the ocean. The island for which I was making was lower down than where the steamer had struck, or I doubt if I should have been saved. As I approached the bank, I saw that there were numerous reeds flinging it, which I doubted if I could penetrate. Still the attempt must be made. I looked about, till I saw a space which appeared more clear, and I swam at it to force my way through. The reeds seemed to grow thicker and thicker. It became very heavy work, and I feared that I should get my legs entangled, and be held fast. At last I saw a thick log of wood floating a little way on.
“I will let Peter rest on it while I make my way to the shore, and, after recovering my strength, I will go off and tow him in,” I thought to myself: and then I told him what I proposed doing. I swam up to the log, lifted Peter off with my left hand, and had placed him on it, while I kept myself afloat with my right, when Ready began to bark furiously, turning round his head at the log, and swimming off in an opposite direction. I thought this odd, when suddenly the log began to move. A vast pair of jaws, with long rows of formidable teeth, opened, but instead of snapping at me, the alligator (for such it was, and of prodigious size) swam away after my faithful Ready. I eased poor Peter, who, terror-stricken, was about to take a most uncomfortable ride on the alligator’s back, and dragging him off before the creature had towed us many yards, I succeeded, by efforts which the greatest alarm alone could have enabled me to make, in reaching the shore. I climbed up the bank myself, and was dragging up poor Peter, when the alligator, disappointed in catching the sagacious Ready, who was safe on land, furiously barking at him, made a dash towards us. I had just time to draw the boy up by a violent jerk, when the monster’s long jaws closed with a loud clack close to his heels. Peter shrieked out, believing that he was caught, but I soon reassured him, and, by setting him on his legs, proved that he had retained them. The alligator, or cayman, was, however, not to be baulked of his prey, and, not being aware of the number of people floating away helplessly down the stream, he began to climb up the bank with the intention of catching one of us at least. The island was of about twenty acres in extent, with a clump of cypress trees and a palm or two in the centre; but the ground of the greater portion was soft and boggy, and covered with reeds, and long grass springing up among logs of timber, in all stages of decay, which had been washed up during the floods of spring. This was not very convenient ground for active operations; yet still the alligator took care that we should be actively employed. As we had no arms with which to assail him, we could only act on the defensive.
The alligator soon got up the bank, and then stopped and eyed us all three, meditating, apparently, which he should first devour. I had made Peter move a little way off on one side of me, while Ready ran about on the other. The brute was hungry, and, seeing that I was the largest animal, he made up his mind to have me first; so on he waddled through the grass, at so rapid a rate, that the consequences, had I tumbled, would have been very serious.
Ready played his part admirably, and directly he saw that the cayman was running at me, he began to bark more furiously than ever, so as to distract the monster’s attention. He succeeded, for the alligator stopped several times to look at him, but his mouth was watering with the anticipation of the bonne bouche my substantial carcass would prove, and he again made chase after me. I shouted to the lad to run for the clump of trees. He obeyed my directions as well as he could, but twice he fell and disappeared between some logs, and I was afraid he was lost, but he scrambled out and ran on. I had to keep my eyes about me, as I leaped from log to log, watching the alligator, and looking to see where I was going. I had got more than half way to the clump of trees, when I heard a loud hissing, and looking down, I found that I was about to leap into a nest of snakes. Mrs Snake put up her head, of flat, venomous form, and I thought would have flown at me, but I sprang on one side with more agility than ever. I had not much fear of the cayman, but no courage, strength, or activity would avail against a single serpent, and the island, I suspected, swarmed with them. It would not, however, have done to stop, as the alligator, having no dread of the snakes, did not. Peter had reached the clump, and had wisely begun to climb a tree. I dashed after him, kicking up several rattlesnakes who had not time to bite me, Ready running by my side, and our pursuer, as the ground was smoother, following faster than ever. I seized Ready in my arms, and threw him up to Peter, who caught him, and placed him safely on a branch, while I sprang up after him, and the alligator, who darted on, snapped his jaws within a foot of my legs as I swung them up out of his way. A pretty predicament we were in, perched on the branch of a cypress tree with the monster cayman leering up at us from below, and thinking it very hard, after all the trouble he had taken, that we should have escaped his jaws. Still I felt how much better off we were than the several hundred human beings who had so suddenly met a watery grave. I looked out from our perch towards the spot where the steamer had gone down. Not a creature could I see: the pieces of wreck, with people floating on them, had been carried out of sight down the stream, but whether any were likely to reach the shore I could not tell. I thought that some might; but I pictured them roaming about through those vast swamps, without food, far from human habitations, till at length they fell a prey to alligators, or were killed by serpents, or sank down and died from hunger and fatigue. Our position was not very pleasant either, for the river was so wide that I was not at all certain that we should be seen by vessels passing up and down; and I dreaded that we might be starved before we could get off. I grew very hungry, for I had been waiting to rush into dinner when the vessel sank. Peter had scarcely spoken; indeed, I was uncertain whether or not he was grateful to me for saving him; but he was evidently not a lad of words. I remarked that I had had nothing to eat since breakfast.
“What, haven’t you had your dinner, sir?” he exclaimed, in a tone of surprise. “Well, things always turn out lucky with me. Here, sir.”
Diving into his coat-pockets, he produced some meat and cheese, and two large lumps of bread, which, however, were rather mashed by the soaking they had got.
“There, take that; it will do you good; you want something after that long swim,” said he.
“Thank you, I will take a piece of bread and meat gladly,” I answered. “You, Peter, keep the rest for yourself.”
“No, no, it’s yours, sir. I’ll not touch it,” he replied in a determined, steady tone. I ate a small portion, and begged him to keep the rest.
“There’s another friend wants something,” he remarked, cutting off a piece of the cheese rind and some gristle from the meat, and giving them to Ready, who had looked up wistfully at him as he was handing me the food. “There, old fellow, you deserve it, I am sure you do,” said he, patting the dog’s head.
I had little doubt after this that Peter’s heart was in the right place. Night, was coming on, and the danger of our position increased. When the sun went down, the mosquitoes attacked us furiously, and ran their huge probosces into our skins, till there was scarcely a spot without a wound. The only satisfaction was that they kept us awake; for had we gone to sleep, we might have fallen off the bough; and had we fallen off the bough, we should have tumbled into the jaws of the alligator, waiting anxiously below to devour us. Such were the not over-pleasant prospects for the approaching night.
