Boy Tar Page 4

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  THE DINGHY.

  No; the warning was all in vain. Even the narrow escape I had had, didnot cure me of my fondness for being on the water, but rather had anopposite effect.

  The acquaintance thus singularly formed between the young waterman andmyself, soon ripened into a strong feeling of friendship. His name, asI have said, was Harry Blew, and--if I may be allowed to play upon theword--he was "true blue," for he was gifted with a heart as kind as itwas brave. I need hardly add that I grew vastly fond of him, and heappeared to reciprocate the feeling, for he acted towards me from thattime forward as if I had saved _his_ life, instead of its being theother way. He took great pains to make me perfect in swimming; and healso taught me the use of the oar; so that in a short time I was able torow in a very creditable manner, and far better than any boy of my ageor size. I even attained to such proficiency that I could manage a pairof oars, and pull about without any assistance from my instructor. ThisI esteemed a great feat, and I was not a little proud when I wasentrusted (as was frequently the case) to take the young waterman's boatfrom the little cove where he kept her, to some point on the beach wherehe might be waiting to take up a fare. Perhaps in passing an anchoredsloop, or near the beach, where some people might be sauntering, I mayhave heard remarks made in a sneering tone, such as, "You are a queerchap to be handlin' a pair o' oars!" or, "Oh, jimminy! Look at thatmillikin pin, boys!" And then I could hear other jeers mingled withshouts of laughter. But this did not mortify me in the least. On thecontrary, I felt proud to show them that, small as I was, I could propelmy craft in the right direction, and perhaps as rapidly as many of themthat were even twice my size.

  After a time I heard no more of these taunts, unless now and then fromsome stranger to the place. The people of our village soon learned howwell I could manage a boat; and small as I was, they held me inrespect--at all events, they no longer jeered at me. Often they wouldcall me the "little waterman," or the "young sailor," or still oftenerwas I known by the name of the "Boy Tar." It was my father's designthat, like himself, I should follow the sea as a calling; and had helived to make another voyage, it was his intention to have taken me awaywith him. I was encouraged, therefore, in these ideas; and moreover, mymother always dressed me in sailor costume of the most approvedpattern--blue cloth jacket and trousers, with black silk handkerchiefand folding collar. Of all this I was very proud, and it was my costumeas much as aught else, that led to my receiving the _soubriquet_ of the"Boy Tar." This title pleased me best of any, for it was Harry Blewthat first bestowed it on me, and from the day that he saved me fromdrowning, I regarded him as my true friend and protector.

  He was at this time rather a prosperous young fellow, himself owner ofhis boat--nay, better still, he had two boats. One was much bigger thanthe other--the yawl, as he styled her--and this was the one he mostlyused, especially when three or four persons wanted a sail. The lesserboat was a little "dinghy" he had just purchased, and which forconvenience he took with him when his fare was only a single passenger,since the labour of rowing it was much less. In the watering season,however, the larger boat was more often required; since parties ofpleasure were out every day in it, and at such times the little one layidle at its moorings. I was then welcome to the use of it for my ownpleasure, and could take it when I liked, either by myself or with acompanion, if I chose to have one. It became my custom, therefore,after school hours, or indeed whenever I had any spare time, to be offto the dinghy, and rowing it all about the harbour. I was rarelywithout a companion--for more than one of my schoolfellows relished thissort of thing--and many of them even envied me the fine privilege I hadin being almost absolute master of a boat. Of course, whenever Idesired company, I had no need to go alone; it was not often that I wasso. Some one or other of the boys was my companion on every excursionthat was made, and these were almost daily--at least, every day on whichthe weather was calm enough to allow of it. With such a smallcockleshell of a boat, we dared not go out when it was not calm; andwith regard to this, I had been duly cautioned by Henry Blew himself.Our excursions only extended to a short distance from the village,usually up the bay, though sometimes down, but I always took care tokeep near the shore, and never ventured far out, lest the little boatmight be caught in a squall and get me into danger.

  As time passed on, however, I grew less timid, and began to feel more athome on the wide water. Then I extended my excursions sometimes as faras a mile from the shore, and thought nothing of it. My friend, thewaterman, seeing me on one of these far voyages, repeated his formercaution, but it might have had a more salutary effect had I notoverheard him, the moment after, observe to one of his companions:--

  "Wonderful boy! ain't he, Bob? Come of the true stock--make the rightsort of a sailor, if ever he grows big enough."

  This remark led me to think that I had not much displeased my patron inwhat I had done; and therefore his caution "to keep close in-shore"produced very little effect on me.

  It was not a long time before I quite disobeyed it; and thedisobedience, as you shall hear, very nigh cost me my life.

  But first let me tell of a circumstance that occurred at this date, andwhich quite changed the current of my existence. It was a greatmisfortune that befell me--the loss of both my parents.

  I have said that my father was a seaman by profession. He was themaster of a ship that traded, I believe, to the colonies of America, andso little was he at home from the time I was old enough to remember,that I scarce recollected him more than just what he was like--and thatwas a fine, manly, sailor-looking man, with a face bronzed by theweather until it was nearly of a copper colour, but for all that ahandsome and cheerful face.

  My mother must have thought so too, for from the time that news arrivedthat his ship was wrecked and he himself drowned, she was never herselfagain. She seemed to pine away, as if she did not wish to live longer,but was desirous of joining him in the other world. If such were herwishes, it was not long before they were gratified; for in a very fewweeks after the terrible news had reached us, my poor mother was carriedto her grave.

  These were the circumstances that changed the current of my existence.Even my mode of life was no longer the same. I was now an orphan,without means and without a home; for, as my parents had been withoutany fortune, and subsisted entirely upon the hard earnings of myfather's trade, no provision had been made against such an unexpectedevent as my brave father's death, and even my mother had been leftalmost penniless. Perhaps it was a merciful providence that called heraway from a world that to her was no longer a place of enjoyment; andalthough I long lamented my dear kind mother, in after years I could nothelp thinking that it was her happier destiny that at that time she hadbeen summoned away. Long, long years it was before I could have doneanything to aid or protect her--during the chill cold winter of povertythat must have been her portion.

  To me the events brought consequences of the most serious kind. I founda home, it is true, but a very different one from that to which I hadall along been used. I was taken to live with an uncle, who, althoughmy mother's own brother, had none of her tender or affectionatefeelings; on the contrary, he was a man of morose disposition and coarsehabits, and I soon found that I was but little more cared for than anyone of his servants, for I was treated just as they.

  My school-days were at an end, for I was no more sent to school from theday I entered my uncle's house. Not that I was allowed to go aboutidle. My uncle was a farmer, and soon found a use for me; so thatbetween running after pigs and cattle, and driving the plough horses, ortending upon a flock of sheep, or feeding calves, or a hundred otherlittle matters, I was kept busy from sunrise till sunset of every day inthe week. Upon Sundays only was I permitted to rest--not that my unclewas at all religious, but that it was a custom of the place that thereshould be no work done on the Sabbath. This custom was strictlyobserved by everybody belonging to the village, and my uncle wascompelled to follow the common rule; otherwise,
I believe, he would havemade Sunday a day of work as well as any other.

  My uncle, not having any care for religion, I was not sent to church,but was left free to wander idle about the fields, or indeed wherever Ichose to go. You may be sure I did not choose to stop among the hedgesand ditches. The blue sea that lay beyond, had far more attractions forme than birds-nesting, or any other rural amusement; and the moment Icould escape from the house I was off to my favourite element, either toaccompany my friend, Harry Blew, in some of his boating trips, or to getpossession of the "dinghy," and have a row on my own account. Thus,then, were my Sundays passed.

  While my mother was living, I had been taught to regard this idle way ofspending Sunday as sinful; but the example which I had before me in myuncle's life, soon led me to form other ideas upon this matter, and Icame to regard the Lord's Day as only differing from any other of theweek in its being by far the pleasantest.

  One Sunday, however, proved anything but pleasant. So far from it, thatit came very near being the most painful as well as the _last_ day of mylife--which was once more imperilled by my favourite element--the water.