Afloat and Ashore (77 page)

"He drop dat box, sartain, Masser Mile," half-whispered the negro; "he
leg begin to shake already, and he won'erful skear'd!"

"I would not have that happen for a good deal—can you save it, Neb?"

"Sartain, sir. Only hab to run out on 'e boom and bring it in, and gib
it Miss Lucy; she mighty partic'lar about dat werry box, Masser Mile,
as I see a hundrer time, and more too."

"Well, lay out, boy, and bring it in,—and look to your footing, Neb."

This was all Neb wanted. The fellow had feet shaped a good deal like
any other aquatic bird, with the essential difference, however, that
no small part of his foundation had been laid abaft the perpendicular
of the tendon Achilles, and, being without shoes, he could nearly
encircle a small spar in his grasp. Often and often had I seen Neb run
out on a top-sail-yard, the ship pitching heavily, catching at the
lift; and it was a mere trifle after that, to run out on a spar as
large as the Wallingford's main-boom. A tolerably distinctive scream
from Chloe, first apprised me that the negro was in motion. Looking in
that direction, I saw him walking steadily along the boom,
notwithstanding Drewett's loud remonstrances, and declarations that he
wanted no assistance, until he reached the spot where the young
gentleman stood grasping the lift, with his legs submitting to more
tremour than was convenient. Neb now grinned, looked as amiable as
possible, held out his hand, and revealed the object of his visit.

"Masser Mile t'ink 'e gentleum better gib
me
Miss Lucy
box"—said Neb, as politely as he knew how.

I believe in my soul that Drewett could have kissed Neb, so glad was
he to obtain this little relief. The box was yielded without the
slightest objection, Neb receiving it with a bow; after which the
negro turned round as coolly as if he were on the deck, and walked
deliberately and steadily in to the mast. He stopped an instant just
at the small of the spar, to look back at Drewett, who was saying
something to pacify his mother; and I observed that, as he stood with
his heels in a line, the toes nearly met underneath the boom, which
his feet grasped something in the manner of talons. A deep sigh
reached my ear, as Neb bounded lightly on deck, and I knew whence it
came by the exclamation of—

"De
fel
-ler!"

As for Neb, he advanced with his prize, which he offered to Lucy with
one of his best bows, but in a way to show he was not conscious of
having performed any unusual exploit. Lucy handed the box to Chloe,
without averting her eyes from Drewett, in whose situation she
manifested a good deal more concern than I liked, or fancied he
deserved.

"Thank you, Mr. Drewett," she said, affecting to think the box had
been recovered altogether by his address; "it is now safe, and there
is no longer any necessity for your coming here. Let Mr. Wallingford
do what he says"—I had mentioned in a low voice, the practicability
of my own scheme—"and return to your own sloop."

But, two things now interposed to the execution of this very simple
expedient. The first was Drewett's pride, blended with a little
obstinacy, and the other was the "Al
bon
ny" skipper's pride, blended
with a good deal of obstinacy. The first did not like to retreat,
after Neb had so clearly demonstrated it was no great matter to walk
on the boom; and the latter, soured by the manner in which we had
outsailed him, and fancying Andrew had deserted to get on board a
faster vessel, resented the whole by sheering away from us to the
distance of a hundred yards. I saw that there remained but a single
expedient, and set about adopting it without further delay.

"Take good hold of the lift, Mr. Drewett, and steady yourself with
both hands; ease away the peak halyards to tauten that lift a little
more, forward. Now, one of you stand by to ease off the guy
handsomely, and the rest come aft to the main-sheet. Look out for
yourself, Mr. Drewett; we are about to haul in the boom, when it will
be a small matter to get you in, upon the taffrail. Stand by to luff
handsomely, so as to keep the boom as steady as possible."

But Drewett clamorously protested against our doing anything of the
sort. He was getting used to his situation, and intended to come in
Neb-fashion, in a minute more. All he asked was not to be hurried.

"No—no—no—touch nothing I entreat of you,
Captain
Wallingford"—he said, earnestly. "If that black can do it, surely I
ought to do it, too."

"But the black has claws, and you have none, sir; then he is a sailor,
and used to such things, and you are none, sir. Moreover, he was
barefooted, while you have got on stiff, and I dare say slippery
boots."

"Yes, the boots
are
an encumbrance. If I could only throw them
off, I should do well enough. As it is, however, I hope to have the
honour of shaking you by the hand, Miss Hardinge, without the disgrace
of being helped."

Mr. Hardinge here expostulated, but all in vain; for I saw plainly
enough Drewett was highly excited, and that he was preparing for a
start. These signs were now so apparent that all of us united our
voices in remonstrances; and Lucy said imploringly to me—"
Do
not let him move, Miles—I have heard him say he cannot swim."

It was too late. Pride, mortified vanity, obstinacy, love, or what you
will, rendered the young man deaf, and away he went, abandoning the
lift, his sole protection. I saw, the moment he quitted his grasp,
that he would never reach the mast, and made my arrangements
accordingly. I called to Marble to stand by to luff; and, just as the
words passed my lips, a souse into the water told the whole story. The
first glance at poor Drewett's frantic manner of struggling told me
that Lucy was really aware of his habits, and that he could not
swim. I was in light duck, jacket and trowsers, with seaman's pumps;
and placing a foot on the rail, I alighted alongside of the drowning
young man, just as he went under. Well assured he would reappear, I
waited for that, and presently I got a view of his hair, within reach
of my arm, and I grasped it, in a way to turn him on his back, and
bring his face uppermost. At this moment the sloop was gliding away
from us, Marble having instantly put the helm hard down, in order to
round-to. As I afterwards learned, the state of the case was no sooner
understood in the other sloop, than the Al
bon
-ny men gave in,
and imitated the Wallingford.

There was no time for reflection. As soon as Drewett's hair was in my
grasp, I raised his head from the water, by an effort that forced me
under it, to let him catch his breath; and then relaxed the power by
which it had been done, to come up myself. I had done this to give him
a moment to recover his recollection, in the hope he would act
reasonably; and I now desired him to lay his two hands on my
shoulders, permit his body to sink as low as possible and breathe, and
trust the rest to me. If the person in danger can be made to do this,
an ordinarily good swimmer could tow him a mile, without any unusual
effort. But the breathing spell afforded to Drewett had the effect
just to give him strength to struggle madly for existence, without
aiding his reason. On the land, he would have been nothing in my
hands; but, in the water, the merest boy may become formidable. God
forgive me, if I do him injustice! but I have sometimes thought,
since, that Drewett was perfectly conscious who I was, and that he
gave some vent to his jealous distrust of Lucy's feelings towards
me. This may be all imagination; but I certainly heard the words
"Lucy" "Wallingford," "Clawbonny," "hateful," muttered by the man,
even as he struggled there for life. The advantage given him, by
turning to allow him to put his hands on my shoulders, liked to have
cost me dear. Instead of doing as I directed, he grasped my neck with
both arms, and seemed to wish to mount on my head, forcing his own
shoulders quite out of water, and mine, by that much weight, beneath
it. It was while we were thus placed, his mouth within an inch or two
of my very ear, that I heard the words muttered which have been
mentioned. It is possible, however, that he was unconscious of that
which terror and despair extorted from him.

I saw no time was to be lost, and my efforts became desperate. I
first endeavoured to swim with this great encumbrance; but it was
useless. The strength of Hercules could not long have buoyed up the
under body of such a load, sufficiently to raise the nostrils for
breath; and the convulsive twitches of Drewett's arms were near
strangling me. I must throw him off, or drown. Abandoning the attempt
to swim, I seized his hands with mine, and endeavoured to loosen his
grasp of my neck. Of course we both sank while I was thus engaged; for
it was impossible to keep my head above water, by means of my feet
alone, with a man of some size riding, from his shoulders up, above
the level of my chin.

I can scarcely describe what followed. I confess I thought ho longer
of saving Drewett's life, but only of saving my own. We struggled
there in the water like the fiercest enemies, each aiming for the
mastery, as, if one were to live, the other must die. We sank, and
rose to the surface for air, solely by my efforts, no less than three
times; Drewett getting the largest benefits by the latter, thus
renewing his strength; while mine, great as it was by nature, began
gradually to fail. A struggle so terrific could not last long. We
sank a fourth time, and I felt it was not to rise again, when relief
came from an unexpected quarter. From boyhood, my father had taught me
the important lesson of keeping my eyes open under water. By means of
this practice, I not only
felt
, but
saw
the nature of
the tremendous struggle that was going on. It also gave me a slight
advantage over Drewett, who closed his eyes, by enabling me to see how
to direct my own exertions. While sinking, as I believed, for the last
time, I saw a large object approaching me in the water, which, in the
confusion of the moment, I took for a shark, though sharks never
ascended the Hudson so high, and were even rare at New York. There it
was, however, swimming towards us, and even descending lower as if to
pass beneath, in readiness for the fatal snap. Beneath it did pass,
and I felt it pressing upward, raising Drewett and myself to the
surface. As I got a glimpse of the light, and a delicious draught of
air, Drewett was drawn from my neck by Marble, whose encouraging voice
sounded like music in my ears. At the next instant my shark emerged,
puffing like a porpoise; and then I heard—

"Hole on, Masser Mile—here he nigger close by!"

I was dragged into the boat, I scarce knew how, and lay down
completely exhausted; while my late companion seemed to me to be a
lifeless corpse. In a moment, Neb, dripping like a black river god,
and glistening like a wet bottle, placed himself in the bottom of the
boat, took my head into his lap, and began to squeeze the water from
my hair, and to dry my face with some one's handkerchief—I trust it
was not his own.

"Pull away, lads, for the sloop," said Marble, as soon as everybody
was out of the river. "This gentleman seems to have put on the hatches
for the last time—as for Miles,
he
'll never drown in fresh
water."

[1]
The writer's master taught him to scan Virgil in 1801. This gentleman was a graduate of Oxford. In 1803, the class to which the writer then belonged in Yale, was the first that ever attempted to scan in that institution. The quantities were in sad discredit in this country, years after this, though Columbia and Harvard were a little in advance of Yale. All that was ever done in the last college, during the writer's time, was to scan the ordinary hexameter of Homer and Virgil.

[2]
It may be well to tell the European who shall happen to read this book, that in America a "State's Prison" is not for prisoners of State, but for common rogues: the term coming from the name borne by the local governments.

[3]
This incident actually occurred in the war of 1798

[4]
There is said to be foundation for this story.

[5]
The miserable moral dependence of this country on Great
Britain, forty years since, cannot well be brought home to the present
generation. It is still too great, but has not a tithe of its former
force. The writer has himself known an Italian Prince, a man of
family and of high personal merit, pass unnoticed before a society
that was eager to make the acquaintance of most of the "agents" of the
Birmingham button dealers; and this simply because one came from Italy
and the other from England. The following anecdote, which is quite as
true as any other fact in this work, furnishes a good example of what
is meant. It is now a quarter of a century since the writer's first
book appeared. Two or three months after the publication, he was
walking down Broadway with a friend, when a man of much distinction in
the New York circles was passing up, on the other side-walk. The
gentleman in question caught the writer's eye, bowed, and
crossed
the street
, to shake hands and inquire after the author's
health. The difference in years made this attention marked. "You are
in high favour," observed the friend, as the two walked away, to
"have — pay you such a compliment—your book must have done this."
"Now mark my words—I have been puffed in some English magazine,
and — knows it." The two were on their way to the author's publishers,
and, on entering the door, honest Charles Wiley put a puff on the book
in question into the writer's hand! What rendered the whole more
striking, was the fact that the paragraph was as flagrant a puff as
was ever written, and had probably been paid for, by the English
publisher. The gentleman in question was a man of talents and merit,
but he had been born half a century too soon, to enjoy entire mental
independence in a country that had so recently been a colony.