LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
Urist-i 
 
 -'66. 
 
MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 OIF 1 TTTTK 
 
 BY HAWSER MARTINGALE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP " TALES OF THE OCEAN," " SALT-WATER BUBBLES,' 
 "JACK IN THE FORECASTLE," ETC., ETC. 
 
 " He who in Venturous barques hath been 
 
 A wanderer on the deep, 
 Can tell of many an awful scene, 
 Where storms forever sweep." 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 , ZPublislaer, 
 
 319 WASHINGTON STKKET, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 1867. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 .UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 --. DAVIS 
 
\ 
 
 / 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
 
 A. K. LORING, , 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 Stereotyped by 
 
 ROCKWELL AND ROLLINS, 
 
 122 Wash. St., Boston. 
 
ADDRESS TO THE READER. 
 
 THE public for years have been familiar with the 
 tales and narratives published from tune to time under 
 the name of " Hawser Martingale ; " and I am proud to 
 say they have been received with distinguished favor. 
 Unlike many of the sea-stories of the day, they were 
 written by a sailor; and any genuine web-footed son of 
 the sea will say that whatever demerits they may pos 
 sess in other respects, the pictures of salt-water life and 
 character they represent, are faithfully portrayed. 
 
 Although the author for several years has hardly 
 contributed his mite to the current literature of the day, 
 his pen has not been idle. It has not been thrown 
 overboard, nor is it altogether rusty, as may to some 
 extent be seen by the narrative, which is now given to 
 the public, in which he has endeavored to sketch a 
 series of events in the life of a sailor-boy, for the edifi 
 cation and amusement of persons, old or young, who 
 take an interest in nautical scenes. 
 
 Nor will he stop here. "Hawser Martingale" will 
 
 8 
 
4 ADDRESS TO THE READER. 
 
 endeavor to obey the injunction of the gallant Lawrence, 
 and "never give up the ship" while a shot is left in the 
 locker. And the public may be interested perhaps 
 gratified to learn that unless unexpected circumstances 
 prevent, "Mark Kowland" will be followed by other 
 works equally entertaining, and having a decided smack 
 of salt water. 
 
 JOHN S. SLEEPER. 
 
 ROXBURY, November, 1866. 
 
MARK ROWLAND 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I 
 
 FLATTERING DREAMS. 
 
 IN the little village of Glenmaple, situated about sixty 
 miles from Boston, resided a family some twenty years ago, 
 whose name was Rowland. Mr. Rowland had once been 
 possessed of some property. He married an amiable wo 
 man, and " opened a store." Fortune smiled upon him, but 
 he became addicted to intemperate habits, which always lead 
 to idleness and unthriftiness. He failed in business, of 
 course, was overwhelmed with debts which he had neither 
 the means nor the. inclination to pay, and became a horse- 
 jockey, a gambler, and a vagabond. In a word, he was one 
 of those men, not unfrequent in New England, who start on 
 their journey through life with brilliant prospects, but before 
 they reach the half-way house, sacrifice their own characters 
 and the happiness and comfort of their families to gratify a 
 morbid thirst for intoxicating drinks. 
 
 He died miserably a few years before the commencement 
 of my story. His widow occupied a little cottage in a lane 
 a short distance from the main road. It was but scantily 
 furnished, and she labored every hour in the day to 
 
6 MAEK ROWLAND. 
 
 procure the means of subsistence for herself and her three 
 children. 
 
 Her neighbors respected her, notwithstanding she was 
 poor, for she was not only industrious, but cherished correct 
 moral principles, and a deep sense of piety, and had exerted 
 all a woman's influence, but in vain, to keep her husband in 
 the paths of rectitude and honor. They furnished her with 
 work, and sometimes made her little presents, and in this 
 way Mrs. Rowland succeeded in providing for herself and 
 family the necessaries, if not the luxuries, o^life. Being of 
 a cheerful disposition, humble in 'her wishes, with her heart 
 bound up in her children, she was grateful to divine Prov 
 idence for the blessings she enjoyed, without making herself 
 unhappy by pining after treasures which were beyond her 
 reach. 
 
 The name of her eldest son was Mark. He was a lad of 
 an excellent disposition and industrious habits, and was 
 never happier than when assisting in the labors of his moth 
 er or promoting the happiness of his brother and sister. 
 Mark was a frank, open-hearted boy, and seldom thought of 
 self when the comfort of others was at stake. His mother 
 had early awakened in him a thirst for knowledge, had 
 taught him to read and write, and to value, as an inestima 
 ble treasure, the instruction he received at the district 
 school. 
 
 Mark had for two seasons, by the labor of his hands, cul 
 tivated a little patch of ground attached to the cottage, and 
 furnished the family with vegetables in abundance, and often 
 placed in his mother's hands a few cents, and sometimes a 
 piece of silver coin, which he had earned by going an er 
 rand, or performing some other service for a neighbor. He 
 was a handy little fellow, shrewd and ingenious, as is often 
 the case with Yankee boys. 
 
 When Mark reached the age of fourteen he was strong 
 
FLATTERING DREAMS. 7 
 
 and active, and remarkably intelligent, for he had read 
 every book he could borrow, and for two years had been at 
 the head of his school. He was also fond of athletic exercis 
 es, had climbed many a lofty pine to destroy a crow's nest, 
 could, swim like an otter, and skate, jump, run, or wrestle 
 with any boy of his years, and carry off the victor's wreath. 
 In a hunt or a tramp in the woods, or at any kind of work 
 on a farm, he could bear almost any amount of fatigue. 
 
 About this time Mark formed an intimacy with Andrew 
 Herman, a boy a year or two older than himself, who had 
 made two voyages to the West Indies, and was looked upon 
 with admiration and envy by his old school-fellows in Glen- 
 maple. After Andrew left the village to look for another 
 voyage, Mark became silent and thoughtful. His spirits 
 lost their wonted buoyancy. He evidently labored under 
 the weight of some unusual care or trouble. One day his 
 mother, who saw with anxiety this change in her son's con 
 duct and appearance, spoke to him on the subject, and 
 urged him to tell her the cause of the dejection which was so 
 plainly visible in his actions and features. 
 
 " Why, mother," said Mark, " I have been thinking for 
 some time that I am a great boy, almost able to do a man's 
 work. Fourteen years old ! Think of that, mother ! I 
 ought to do something more for the support of all of us than 
 to remain about home, digging in the garden, loafing, or 
 running on errands for the neighbors. Albert is old enough 
 and strong enough to help you in the garden and in the 
 house, and sister Ellen is no trouble to you now, and is 
 growing older and stronger every day." 
 
 " Well, what do you think of doing, my son?" 
 
 " Mother, I am almost afraid to tell you. I should like to 
 go to sea." 
 
 " Go to sea, Mark?" exclaimed Mrs. Rowland, greatly 
 astonished and alarmed. " Go to sea ! You cannot be se- 
 
8 MAKE ROWLAND. 
 
 \ . . 
 
 rfous, my son. What could have led you to think of such a 
 thing?" 
 
 " Why, mother, I have thought over the matter a great 
 deal lately, and I always had a secret longing to go to sea. 
 I have had several interesting talks with Andrew Herman. 
 He has told me all about a sailor's life, and says I should 
 make a capital sailor." 
 
 " I wish," said Mrs. Rowland, " that Andrew Herman had 
 stayed on board his ship in the West Indies or any other for 
 eign port, instead of coming back here and disturbing our 
 quiet home by filling your head with foolish notions about a 
 sailor's life, and longings which can never be realized." 
 
 44 Why not, mother? " rejoined Mark. " I can undertake 
 nothing that promises so well. If I go to sea I shall get 
 good wages, for I am strong and willing to work, and bring 
 home something every year, perhaps oftener, to furnish you 
 and Albert and Ellen, not only with abundance of food and 
 clothing, but other comforts, and to some extent relieve 
 your cares, and make you all more happy ! Oh, mother, do 
 let me go to sea ! " 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Rowland, and the tears came 
 into her eyes, " a sailor's life is full of hardship, danger, and 
 fatigue ; and what if you should be shipwrecked, or cast 
 away on some desert shore, or fall overboard and be 
 drowned, or be captured by pirates, or die of some terrible 
 disease in a foreign land, and no mother to nurse you or 
 comfort you in your dying hour ! Oh, Mark, I can never 
 consent to your going to sea." 
 
 " Mother, Andrew Herman says that such objections to a 
 sailor's life are all humbugs. He says, and surely he ought 
 to know, that in a good ship there is no danger of being cast 
 away or shipwrecked. He says a sailor's life is a jolly one, 
 free from care, with nothing to do but watch the sails and 
 trim them, while the pleasant breezes waft you bravely over 
 
FLATTENING DREAMS. 9 
 
 the seas. Besides, according to his account, the sailors are 
 such jovial companions, all the time laughing and frolicking, 
 or telling stories or singing songs ; and then, the wonders 
 to be seen on the waters and in foreign lands ! and the wild 
 and romantic adventures in store ! " 
 
 " My son," replied the widow Rowland, " Andrew Her 
 man has not given you a true description of a sailor's life. 
 I know it is beset with toils and difficulties and dangers 
 innumerable." 
 
 " Mother, I have often heard you say that God watches 
 over us wherever we may be, and that the widow and the 
 orphan are his especial care ; and surely his kind influence 
 will be felt as much on the ocean as on the land." 
 
 " That is true, my son ; we are never beyond his protect 
 ing power. Nevertheless, Mark, I feel as if I cannot part 
 with you for such a purpose. The mere idea of such a 
 project makes me sick at heart. But, enough now. We 
 will talk of this at some other time. In the mean while we 
 may perhaps think of some employment for you, of a differ 
 ent nature, which will prevent any necessity for your going 
 abroad and exposing yourself to the perils and hardships of 
 a sailor's life, and they are many, I know, notwithstanding 
 the bewitching pictures so vividly sketched by Andrew 
 Herman." 
 
 Some weeks passed away, and nothing occurred to change 
 the current of Mark Rowland's feelings. He could find no 
 employment of a satisfactory character in the vicinity of his 
 home. He was offered by Mr. Sanson the situation of clerk 
 and errand-boy in his grocery store, with wages little more 
 than nominal. But Mr. Sanson's store was the resort at 
 times of loafers, vagabonds, and drunkards, for he sold strong 
 liquors by the glass. Indeed, he boasted that this disgrace 
 ful branch of his business was the source of his greatest prof 
 it. But Mrs. Rowland recollected her husband's failings. 
 
10 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 She had suffered, deeply suffered, from the evils of intem 
 perance, and loathed the very sight or name of a "dram 
 shop." She would sooner have seen Mark in his grave than 
 stooping to such degrading work, even if he had been offered 
 wages enough to supply all her wants. 
 
 Mark could easily have procured employment as a farm 
 er's boy ; but all that he would receive for his labor, cer 
 tainly for one or two years, would be his maintenance and 
 clothing. The result would be the same if he became an ap 
 prentice to a blacksmith or a joiner. He was anxious to be 
 earning something immediately, for he knew that his mother, 
 although she never was heard to repine at her lot, was com 
 pelled by poverty to deny herself many things which would 
 greatly contribute to the comfort of herself and family. 
 
 Mrs. Rowland pondered often .and deeply on the subject 
 which Mark had broached. She felt it would be difficult to 
 shake his inclination to go to sea. She knew that the sooner 
 her son was engaged in any regular business the better it 
 would be for him and for all of them. He was tall and 
 robust, and more manly in his character as weU as form than 
 one would suppose from his years. His principles were good, 
 and seemed firmly rooted. Slje was convinced that he pos 
 sessed firmness and strength of mind to resist temptations to 
 evil, and triumph over all bad influences. If he went to sea, 
 and proved fortunate in his undertakings, he might by his 
 intelligence, enterprise, and energy rise rapidly in his pro 
 fession, and in a few years become an officer, and ultimately 
 master of a ship, and have it in his power to frighten away 
 the ills of poverty which seemed to cling closer to her every 
 year, and help his brother and sister if she should be called 
 away to another and a better world. 
 
 After a severe struggle with her feelings, and frequent dis 
 cussions with Mark, who urged his point with great earnest 
 ness, Mrs. Rowland gave her reluctant consent that her son 
 
FLATTERING DREAMS. 11 
 
 should go to Boston, and try to find an opportunity to go to 
 sea as a cabin-boy. She put his few plain and homely 
 clothes in the best possible order ; she talked to him long 
 and often in relation to his conduct while away from home, 
 and sought to fortify his mind against allurements and ten 
 dencies to evil. 
 
 At length the morning arrived when Mark was to depart 
 for the great metropolis of New England, as a starting-point 
 from which to make his way in the world. He knew no one 
 in that busy place on whom he could call for advice or assist 
 ance. He had no letters of introduction to business-men. 
 But he had confidence in himself, and looked boldly into the 
 future without misgivings. It was a sad day for the poor 
 widow. She made up a small bundle for her son, consisting 
 of articles of clothing, and a slender stock of necessaries, 
 not forgetting a Bible. She placed in his hands a little 
 money which she had contrived to save from her hard earn 
 ings, and while the tears ran down her cheeks she took him 
 in her arms, bade God bless him, and Mark sat out on his 
 journey. 
 
 He travelled along slowly at first, with his bundle slung 
 on a stick, which rested on his shoulder. He was sorry to 
 see the anguish of his mother, and even doubted whether he 
 had acted right in thus wringing from her a slow consent to 
 encounter the dangers of the seas. He was strongly tempted 
 to return and tell his mother that he would abandon all idea 
 of seeking to improve his fortunes abroad, but would remain 
 with her and do what he could to make her happy. And 
 then again he would view the subject in a different light. 
 He felt assured that his mother would soon recover from the 
 dejected state in which he had left her, for he well knew her 
 fortitude and her trust in an overruling Providence. 
 
 Mark was always of an adventurous disposition, and from 
 the time when he first read " Kobinson Crusoe," which one of 
 
12 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 his school-fellows loaned him, he had cherished a longing for 
 a roving life. That book has doubtless caused many noble, 
 daring spirits to leave the comforts of home and the enjoy 
 ments of domestic life to seek for wild adventures and ro 
 mantic incidents abroad. Besides, Mark did not anticipate 
 any misfortunes. He looked, as youths- are apt to look, on 
 the sunny side of life, without seeing the storms and torna 
 does which are gathering in the distance. He figured to 
 himself the delight of his mother when he should return from 
 a voyage to a foreign land stout, hearty, and cheerful, and 
 fling into her lap a pile of Spanish dollars. As he indulged 
 in thoughts like these his step was quicker and more vig 
 orous, and his features lost the pensive expression which had 
 been occasioned by parting with those he loved, and kindled 
 with excitement and joy. 
 
 He travelled onward, hardly stopping to rest until the sun 
 had sank behind a wood-crowned height, around whose base 
 he had winded his way, and on inquiring he found, to his 
 great satisfaction, that he had accomplished fully one third 
 of his journey. He sat down on a rock by the wayside, and 
 took from his bundle some provisions which his mother had 
 provided him with, and made a frugal meal, after which he 
 satisfied his thirst from a brook which ran murmuring along 
 at the side of the road, and proceeded on his journey. As 
 the shades of evening fell, however, he became decidedly 
 tired, and acknowledged to himself that some repose to his 
 wearied limbs would be exceedingly grateful. He had now 
 reached the snug-looking dwelling-house of a thrifty farmer 
 in the town of Westville, and finding Mr. Drumrnond, the 
 owner of the establishment, standing near the gate of the 
 barn-yard talking with a neighbor, Mark respectfully asked 
 permission to sleep in the barn on the hay-mow for the 
 night. 
 
 The kind-hearted farmer was somewhat astonished at the 
 
FLATTERING DREAMS. 13 
 
 request ; he looked hard at Mark, and instead of replying, 
 asked him a few questions, which were so satisfactorily 
 answered, that he insisted on our young adventurer going 
 with him to the house, where he was introduced to the farm 
 er's wife, a cheerful, motherly-looking woman, who set be 
 fore him a capacious bowl of bread and milk, and a mam 
 moth slice of newly-made cheese ; and afterwards led him to 
 a chamber in which he found an excellent bed, where he 
 soon fell asleep, and continued in that state until awak 
 ened by the sun shining into his chamber on the following 
 morning. 
 
 Mark Rowland was no sluggard, and he felt mortified at 
 having slept so long. He soon dressed himself and went 
 below, where he was kindly greeted, and found an excellent 
 breakfast already prepaf ed, of which he was urged, by his 
 hospitable entertainers, to partake, in language so kind that 
 he could not refuse. After breakfast he thanked Mr. Drum- 
 mond and his wife for their hospitality, and throwing his 
 bundle over his shoulder, proceeded on his journey towards 
 Boston. He looked upon this happy incident, finding kind 
 and sympathizing friends among utter strangers, as a good 
 augury, and his heart grew lighter as he passed along. He 
 hummed an old song, which his mother had often sung ; he 
 whistled, but not for want of thought. 
 
 It was towards noon on the third day of his journey that, 
 from one of the hills in the neighborhood of Boston, he first 
 beheld the great metropolis. He stopped a few minutes, and 
 gazed admiringly on the grand city, with its towers and 
 spires reaching far upwards from immense masses of brick, 
 with the broad dome of the State House surmounting the 
 whole. He then hurried along, overjoyed at having so nearly 
 reached the termination of his journey. He passed over 
 Charlestown bridge, and soon found himself in the midst of 
 the great and populous city. Mark Rowland inquired the 
 
 2 
 
14: MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 way to the wharves, for it was there he expected to find a 
 ship in which to make his first voyage to sea. But how he 
 was to get a situation, whom he was to address, or in what 
 manner he should make application for employment, he had 
 not the slightest idea. His notions of seafaring matters 
 were, of course, very vague, yet he had a tongue in his 
 head, and knew how to use it, and did not for a moment 
 doubt of ultimate success. But if fortune had not greatly 
 favored him, he might have waited long and been subjected 
 to much inconvenience before he could have accomplished 
 his object. 
 
 As he passed along through the city, Mark was almost 
 stupefied at the sight of the many strange and beautiful 
 objects around him. The multitude of houses, the elegance 
 of the stores and their contents, the beauty and vastness of 
 the public buildings, the numerous vehicles rattling over the 
 pavements, the throngs of people threading the narrow 
 streets in every direction, all attracted his attention, and 
 almost bewildered him. After passing through numerous 
 streets, and making many inquiries, he found himself on one 
 of the principal wharves, which was Jined with ships, brigs, 
 and schooners, taking in or discharging cargoes of merchan 
 dise, while apparently great bustle and confusion reigned on 
 their decks. 
 
 Mark had never seen a ship, but he had often looked at 
 pictures of them under full sail with a deep interest. He 
 now stood by the side of a real ship, on Long Wharf, and 
 gazed upon it with admiration. He examined it with eager 
 ness from stem to stern, from the truck to the deck, and 
 wondered at its huge bulk, its massive spars, and the count 
 less variety of ropes which, crossing each other, extended in 
 every direction. He proceeded further down the wharf, and 
 looked beyond the ships, and saw the waters of Boston Bay, 
 
FLATTERING DREAMS. 15 
 
 and vessels sailing, and boats moving gracefully along, with 
 ensigns and pennants waving at the mast-head. That was a 
 happy moment. It seemed to Mark Rowland that he stood 
 in fairy-land, and that the romantic dreams which had often 
 visited hi in his sleep at length were realized. 
 
CHAPTER H. 
 
 SAILING AWAY! 
 i 
 
 . MABK ROWLAND stood on the wharf, gazing for a long 
 time, on the busy and attractive scenes around him. At 
 length he thought of the object of his visit to the city ; and, 
 after examining the features of various persons who were 
 standing around, or engaged in some employment, he ap 
 proached a gentleman whose benevolent countenance won his 
 confidence, and accosting him in a respectful manner, asked 
 him if he knew of a captain who wanted a cabin-boy. 
 
 The gentleman whom he addressed was a wealthy mer 
 chant, and at that time was busily employed in fitting a ship 
 away for the East Indies. He looked at Mark, and was 
 pleased with the frank and manly expression of his features, 
 his modest manner, and general appearance. He took a 
 liking to the lad at once, so true it is that goodness, or even 
 the semblance of goodness, will always meet with friends. 
 He inquired of the young stranger his name, his residence, 
 the condition of his parents, and how it happened that he 
 came such a distance, alone and on foot, without money or 
 friends, to the city, in search of a voyage to sea. To these 
 questions Mark answered promptly and satisfactorily, and 
 the merchant was convinced that he spoke the truth, and was 
 deserving of encouragement and assistance. 
 
 Mr. Fortesque, that was the name of the merchant, told 
 our young adventurer that he had a large ship called the 
 
SAILING AWAY. 17 
 
 Saladin, which was to sail in a few days for Calcutta in the 
 East Indies ; that the ship would be commanded by a very 
 worthy man, and that Mark should have the situation of 
 cabin-boy. One can hardly conceive the joy of Mark when 
 he heard the words of the benevolent merchant. His good 
 fortune, in thus so easily obtaining a voyage to sea, equalled 
 his most sanguine expectations, and, with words of deep 
 feeling, he thanked Mr. Fortesque again and again. 
 
 Mr. Fortesque took Mark immediately on board the ship, 
 and introduced him to the captain, whose name was Somers, 
 as cabin-boy of the Saladin. It was soon arranged that, as 
 Mark was a stranger in Boston, and had no boarding-house 
 or friends, or means of procuring food and lodging, he should 
 remain on board the ship, there partake of his meals, and 
 sleep in the cabin. He was pleased with this arrangement, 
 and lost no time in learning his duties and making himself 
 useful in every possible way. Before the ship left the wharf 
 he succeeded in gaining the good-will of the captain and the 
 mates, as well as the owner ; for he showed himself willing, 
 obedient, active, and intelligent. 
 
 The sailors to compose the crew were soon shipped, and 
 Mark's wages were fixed at eight dollars a month. Mr. 
 Fortesque generously supplied him with some necessary 
 clothing, and he was thus enabled to send back to his moth 
 er, not only all the money she had given him, but five dollars 
 out of his two months' advance pay. He inclosed it in a 
 letter, in which he exultingly described his good fortune and 
 happy feelings, spoke in grateful terms of the kindness of 
 Mr. Fortesque, and assured his mother that, in a year at far 
 thest, he should return to Boston with a purse well filled, the 
 result of his own exertions, and hasten home on the wings 
 of affection. 
 
 On the following day the wind was fair, the weather was 
 pleasant, the crew were mustered, the pilot came on board, 
 
18 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 the top-sails were loosed and hoisted up, the fasts cast off, and, 
 with a fair wind and ebb tide, the Saladin proceeded gal 
 lantly down the harbor, and was soon outside of Boston 
 light-house, on her way to the distant East Indies. Mark 
 took a long look at the land, as it lessened in the distance, 
 and mentally bade adieu to the loved ones he left behind 
 him. 
 
 The Saladin proved to be a strong, safe, and comfortable 
 ship, but was rather a dull sailer, and moved along heavily 
 through the water. Captain Somers was a noble-hearted 
 man, who understood his business thoroughly. He treated 
 Mark with kindness, and protected him during the early part 
 of the passage from the rude conduct and rough practical 
 jokes of the sailors. But it was not long before the good 
 qualities of the cabin-boy became known and acknowledged, 
 and he acquired rapidly some knowledge of a seafaring life, 
 and was so cheerful, so obliging, so industrious, so active, and 
 so intelligent, that he made a friend of every man on board. 
 He was a favorite with all, and so far from being the subject 
 of ill-natured gibes or jokes, he was treated with kindness 
 and indulgence, not only by the officers, but by every sailor 
 in the ship. 
 
 Mark was rather pleased with a sailor's life, it was a 
 mode of life which suited his bold, adventurous disposition, 
 but the true wish of his heart was to gain knowledge, that 
 kind of knowledge which can only be derived from study, 
 from books, and prepare him for taking a high stand for use 
 fulness among his fellow-men. Nevertheless, he bade fair 
 to make a good sailor. So said Captain Somers, and so said 
 his officers. It was plain that Mark Rowland would make 
 friends, in whatever path of life he might choose to tread 
 and such will always be the case. A youth, if he possesses 
 honesty, industry, a cheerful temper, and cherishes a desire 
 to do right, and contribute to the happiness of others, will 
 
SAILING AWAY. 19 
 
 always meet with encouragement and aid from the good and 
 deserving part of mankind. 
 
 The Saladin proceeded merrily on her voyage, and new 
 wonders were witnessed by Mark every day the wonders 
 of the ocean, which those who dwell peaceably and quietly 
 on the land can hardly imagine. The cheerful influence of. 
 a fine breeze, when the vessel dashes gloriously forward on 
 her way ; the long swell and smooth surface of the sea in a 
 calm ; the flashing phosphorescence of the sea-water during 
 the night ; the strict order and discipline on board a well- 
 regulated ship ; the activity of the sailors as they made or 
 took in sail, and their encouraging shouts, or songs, marking 
 time, as they pulled heavily at the ropes ; the flights of sea- 
 birds, the spouting of whales, and the gambols of those 
 queer-looking fish known as porpoises, all attracted his at 
 tention and excited his wonder. Indeed, every succeeding 
 day showed him something new and remarkable. And the 
 Saladin had not been many days on her voyage before an 
 opportunity was given for Mark Rowland to witness the rise, 
 progress, and ordinary effects of a gale of wind at sea. 
 
 The gale came on gradually, after a steady and increasing 
 breeze from the northward for a couple of days. The light 
 sails, as the flying-jib and royals and studding-sails, were first 
 taken in then the top-gallant sails and jib. The wind in 
 creased as darkness came on ; the heavens became obscured 
 with thick, flying clouds, and all hands were called to reef 
 top-sails. This operation, under the judicious management 
 of the captain, who superintended the work, was executed 
 with adroitness and dispatch, and two reefs were taken in 
 the fore and mizzen top-sails, and one in the main, and the 
 royal-yards were sent down on deck. The gale continued to 
 increase, and the wind hauled to the eastward. It began to 
 rain, with every prospect, in the language of Mr. Smeaton, 
 the second mate, of " a greasy night." 
 
20 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 At midnight, the watch below, as well as the cook, stew 
 ard, and cabin-boy, were told to hurry up on deck, to take 
 in more sail. The main-sail was clued up and handed, 
 a couple of reefs taken in the spanker, and the top-sails 
 were close-reefed. The sea was now much agitated. The 
 waves followed each other in swift succession, and the spray 
 in dense volumes broke over the bows and sometimes deluged 
 the waist, as the ship plunged along through the water. 
 Mark Rowland, while lending a hand to haul out the weather 
 foretop-sail reef-tackle, got his first thorough ducking in salt 
 water, to the great amusement of the sailors. 
 
 By two o'clock in the morning Captain Somers found it 
 expedient to " lay the ship to" under a close-reefed main 
 top-sail. Every other sail was now taken in, and snugly 
 furled, and the top-gallant yards were sent down and the top 
 gallant masts housed. The helm was put in one position, 
 " hard-a-lee," and firmly lashed. The Saladin was found to 
 lay to under this sail remarkably well ; the waves, as they 
 rushed madly along, threatening to overwhelm the decks, 
 passed beneath the ship, as she courteously rose to meet 
 them, or expended their force on the weather-bow, sending 
 cataracts of spray over the decks. 
 
 The ship now, while lying to, made very little head-way, 
 but was driven to leeward by the mighty power of the wind 
 and the waves, forced bodily through the water at the rate 
 of two or three knots, and making some five or six points 
 leeway. Thus, while by compass the head of the ship 
 pointed towards east-southeast, the course actually made 
 was nearly south. It is this unavoidable leeway in a gale, 
 when a ship cannot carry sail, that makes the sailors so 
 much rejoice in u plenty of sea room," and dread the dan 
 gers of a lee-shore. 
 
 For twelve hours the Saladin lay to, until the wind ex- 
 
SAILING AWAY. 21 
 
 hausted itself, after giving two or three extra puffs, as if 
 determined to capsize the ship, or blow the masts away. 
 
 Mark Rowland was at first not a little startled at the 
 strange and wild phenomena and varied incidents which at 
 tend a gale of wind at sea. It would be difficult to say 
 whether they most excited his fear or his admiration. At 
 such a time the hoarse whistling and singing of the wind 
 through the rigging, the crashing noise of the breaking bil 
 lows as they came rushing onward with a wild roar, and 
 passed harmlessly by, the incessant creaking and groaning 
 of the bulkheads and timbers, the continual tossing about, 
 rolling and pitching, and convulsive jerking of the ship, 
 which seemed at such a moment an object utterly insignifi 
 cant, a mere plaything, a toy, to furnish sport for the ele 
 ments, all constitute a scene which for sublimity probably 
 has no parallel. Indeed, a severe gale of wind in a stout 
 ship, well manned, and so skilfully managed as to preclude 
 the idea of imminent peril, is one of the most interesting 
 and exciting events which can be met with in life. It is 
 worth almost any sacrifice on the part of a landsman to wit 
 ness and enjoy. 
 
 Mark's apprehension of danger, which such a novel and 
 sublime scene would naturally excite, were greatly lessened 
 by noting the calm and cheerful manner of the captain and 
 his officers, who attended to their various duties as self- 
 possessed and fearless as if they could control the action of 
 the elements. 
 
 A few days after the Saladin had been visited by this 
 tempest, and about twenty days after leaving port, one 
 beautiful morning just as the sun was rising above the hori 
 zon, and while the good ship was sailing along with a light 
 but favorable breeze over a smooth sea at the rate of some 
 three or four knots, Mark Rowland, who was standing oppo 
 site the galley, looking over the bulwarks to leeward, his 
 
22 ' MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 thoughts far away, was hailed by Mr. Jarls, the first officer, 
 whose watch was on deck at the time, and ordered to go 
 aloft, take a look around the horizon, and see if any vessels 
 were in sight. Mark sprang into the rigging with alacrity, 
 and in a marvellous short time was on the fore-top-gallant 
 yard, scanning with a pair of sharp eyes the distant hori 
 zon. 
 
 He had been in this position but a few minutes when he 
 called to the mate at the top of his voice, " Mr. Jarls ! Mr. 
 Jarls ! " 
 
 "Hallo!" replied that vigilant officer; "what's in the 
 wind now?" 
 
 " I see something on the water," said Mark. " 7 Tis not a 
 ship, for it has no sails. It is far away, in that direction," 
 continued Mark, pointing across the weather-bow. 
 
 " What does it look like?" asked the mate. 
 
 "It looks like a vessel partly sunk, with two short masts 
 sticking out of the water," replied the boy. 
 
 "Perhaps it is Old Neptune himself," said Mr. Jarls, 
 quietly, " taking an airing by steam ! But we are not far 
 enough along for him yet. He will undoubtedly be on board 
 in good time." So saying the mate bounded into the fore rig 
 ging, and in a few seconds was on the fore-top-sail yard. He 
 looked intently in the direction indicated by Mark, and then 
 in his loudest tone shouted, "WRECK, HO \" Captain Somers, 
 roused out of his sleep by the rough voice of the mate hail 
 ing the fore-top-gallant yard, by this time was on deck. He 
 immediately ordered the studding-sails to be taken in, the 
 yards braced up, and the ship steered in the direction of the 
 wreck. 
 
 A wreck at sea is a solemn sight. Every true sailor feels 
 deep sympathy for others in distress, and will labor with 
 might and main to render assistance. He knows not how 
 soon he may be in the same unfortunate plight himself. It 
 
SAILING AWAY. 23 
 
 was soon ascertained that the wreck was that of a ship with 
 her masts broken off, and evidently full of water. As the 
 Saladin drew towards the wreck something like a flag was 
 seen flying a few feet above the galley, or caboose-house. 
 
 " There are some living souls on board that hulk ! " ex 
 claimed Captain Somers, with unusual energy, "and we 
 must rescue them from their terrible situation, at all hazards. 
 Clear away the quarter-boat, Mr. Smeaton ! " said he to the 
 second mate ; " get ready to start for the wreck as soon as 
 we lay the maintop-sail to the mast." 
 
 And now the object which excited so much interest could 
 be plainly seen from the waist. The sea was comparatively 
 smooth, nevertheless the waves washed across the deck from 
 plankshear to plankshear, giving little hope of finding any 
 living person attached to this still floating wreck. The gal 
 ley seemed split and shattered, but the doors were apparently 
 closed. Nothing bearing the resemblance of a human being 
 was seen about the decks, nor were there any signs of life. 
 But the tattered garment fastened to a small spar, and dis 
 played from the top of the caboose-house, was proof enough 
 that some one, perhaps more than one of that ship's company 
 had survived, for a time at least, the terrible disaster. Were 
 any living persons now on board? If so, how wretched 
 must be their fate ! That galley ! what did the signal on its 
 summit portend ? 
 
 The Saladin continued her course until almost within hail 
 of the sunken vessel, when her way was suddenly stopped by 
 putting the helm hard down, and laying the maintop-sail 
 aback. The quarter-boat was now lowered, and Mr. Smea- 
 ton,, with a stout boat's crew, pushed off to board the wreck. 
 On going alongside, no living being was visible ; no one 
 came forth from that galley. The second mate hailed and 
 shouted with a voice loud enough to have awakened the 
 
24 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 Seven Sleepers, but there was no reply. He hailed again 
 and again, with the same result. 
 
 " There is no one here ! " he exclaimed, turning round to 
 the boat's crew, " we may as well go back to the ship." 
 
 " I'll take a look into that galley first, sir, if you have no 
 objection," said Jack Manwell, a whole-hearted young sailor 
 belonging to Marblehead. " There's no knowing what sort 
 of treasures we may find there ! " 
 
 The officer nodded assent, he could not well refuse, 
 and Jack jumped on the main deck of the ill-fated vessel. 
 He tried to open the nearest door of the caboose-house, but 
 found the operation a difficult one ; the door seemed jammed, 
 or fastened on the inside. An oar was passed him from the 
 boat, by the aid of which he succeeded in forcing open the 
 door, when a sad spectacle was presented to his view. 
 
 A man, pale, haggard, with fixed, staring eyes, preter- 
 naturally large, and an expression of intolerable anguish, 
 which was truly appalling to look upon, was seated on the 
 platform of the caboose, his head leaning against the side of 
 the galley. Across his knees, and encircled in his arms, was 
 the body of a woman, with her head hanging down and 
 apparently lifeless. Both were almost destitute of clothing. 
 One seemed to be already dead, and the other dying of cold 
 and hunger ! 
 
 "Hallo, shipmates!" said Jack Manwell, in a cheerful 
 voice, " you have a snug berth of it here, all to yourselves. 
 Come, rouse and bitt ! There are better lodgings hard by, 
 with pea-jackets and plenty of grub ; for you seem to have 
 been on short allowance of everything but salt water." 
 
 The man made no attempt to rise from his recumbent 
 position. He stared for a moment vacantly at the sailor, 
 then dropped his eyes to the wilted body that he held in his 
 arms, and faintly murmured, " My wife, my wife ! " 
 
 "Oh, never mind your wife," said Jack, gently disen- 
 
SAILING AWAY. 25 
 
 gaging the woman from the arms of her husband. " She 
 will do well enough yet; when we get her on board the 
 Saladin, we will bring her to with a t yeo heave O,' and a 
 double-shuffle to come up with." 
 
 By this time Mr. Smeaton and one of the seamen were at 
 the door of the galley. The woman was not dead. She 
 had fainted from exhaustion ; but her pulse still beat, and 
 she exhibited other signs of life. "\flTith much difficulty she 
 was placed in the boat. Then the man, who was unable to 
 walk, or even stand without support, was assisted across the 
 deck, and placed by the side of his s wife. The boat was 
 then shoved off, and in a few minutes was alongside of the 
 Saladin, to leeward. 
 
 These two unfortunate beings, with the utmost care and 
 tenderness, were taken on board the ship, the rough-looking 
 sailors manifesting the most heart-felt sympathy for their 
 wretched condition. They were carried into the cabin ; 
 warmth was imparted to their limbs, and gentle restoratives 
 applied. For some days their souls seemed 'to be hovering 
 on the verge of eternity, but by careful nursing and a course 
 of judicious treatment on the part of Captain Somers, they 
 both revived, gradually recovered strength, and were finally 
 restored to health. More than a week passed, however, be 
 fore either of them felt able to communicate the details of 
 the terrible disaster, of which they had been the victims. 
 
 The vessel which the sharp eyes of Mark Rowland dis 
 covered in a foundered condition was the ship Cldrion, of 
 Salem, bound on a voyage to Maranham, in Brazil, having a 
 quantity of lumber in the hold, and her "between decks" 
 filled with an assortment of miscellaneous articles. In this 
 ship Mr. James S. Rivington, a merchant who had been for 
 several years engaged in trade with the north coast of k 
 Brazil, had taken passage, accompanied by his wife. These 
 two persons were the only passengers. 
 
 3 
 
26 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 The Clarion experienced the severe gale of wind, which 
 the Saladin weathered without the slightest injury. During 
 the gale the captain of the Clarion assured Mr. and Mrs. 
 Klvington that there was no cause for fear. The ship was 
 strongly built, in good condition, and an excellent sea-boat. 
 In the middle of the Atlantic, with plenty of sea-room, they 
 were as safe with such a mere capful of wind, as if stand 
 ing on Boston Common on a summer's day, gazing at " the 
 big elm." This assurance, and the confident aspect of the 
 sailors, as they attended to their duties, in a great measure 
 relieved the minds of the passengers from a load of anxiety. 
 
 The gale continued through the day and the following 
 night. Towards morning Mr. Rivington heard the first 
 officer enter the cabin and tell the captain that there was a 
 dangerous sea running, and the ship lay-to badly, often fall 
 ing off into the trough of the sea. The captain hastened on 
 deck, and soon afterwards the second mate, who had the 
 watch below, was roused out to lend a hand to get the ship 
 off the wind to scud before the gale. 
 
 Mr. Rivington now, with his state-rpoin door wide open, 
 eagerly listened for sounds on deck to indicate what was 
 going on. In less than five minutes he heard the captain 
 give the orders, " Hoist the foretop-mast stay-sail ! hard up 
 your helm ! square away the after-yards ! " A great tramp 
 ling was then heard overhead, which was soon succeeded by 
 a thundering shock, and it seemed as if the cataract of 
 Niagara had been poured on the quarter-deck. The ship 
 was hurled over with giant force, nearly on her beam-ends ; 
 every timber seemed wrenched from its place, the affrighted 
 passengers were thrown out of their berths against the bulk 
 head, badly bruised and nearly stunned, and the cabin was 
 half * filled with water! 
 
 As soon as the ship righted, and the overwhelming wave, 
 having done its work of destruction, quietly rolled away, 
 
SAILING AWAY. 27 
 
 Mr. Rivington and his wife, confused, terrified, convinced 
 that some dreadful catastrophe had occurred, waded through 
 the water, waist deep, to the companion-way, and groped 
 their way to the deck, as to a place of comparative safety. 
 
 A gloomy spectacle awaited them there. The sea was 
 making a fair breach over the decks, but not a human being 
 was to be seen. The wind screeched, and the broken spars 
 thumped against the sides of the ship, but not the faintest 
 sound of a human voice reached their ears ! 
 
 Mr. Rivington, horror-stricken at this . sudden disaster, 
 shouted for the captain, for the mates, for some living being, 
 but received no answer. Clinging to the bulwarks, *ind at 
 the imminent risk of his life, he went forward, put his head 
 down the fore-scuttle and hailed the crew, but the only re 
 sponse from the forecastle was the plash of the water against 
 the bowsprit bitts, as it washed backward and forward ! 
 
 Darkness and the dense atmosphere caused by a mingling 
 of the rain and the spoondrift, added to the horrors of the 
 scene. The wind seemed at times to lull, and Mr. Riving- 
 ton looked anxiously around for a glimmering of daylight. 
 He could not conceal from himself the awful fact that the 
 ship was gradually sinking, and that all hands, officers and 
 sailors, all, had been swept overboard while engaged in the 
 attempt to get the ship before the wind ! All had been 
 called without a moment's warning, to appear before the 
 judgment seat of Qod ! 
 
 The fate of the two passengers seemed even more terrible 
 than that of the crew. Their misery was prolonged, with 
 the prospect of death in his most hideous shape not far off. 
 They were exposed without shelter or clothing on the deck 
 of the sinking vessel to the whole fury of the tempest, with 
 sheets of salt water drenching them every moment. Mr. 
 Rivington lashed his wife and himself to the fife-rail, near 
 
28 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 the mizzen-mast, and in this wretched condition they awaited 
 the abatement of the gale and the light of day. 
 
 Daylight came at last, but brought no comfort. Although 
 the wind had diminished, and the waves had partially sub 
 sided, daylight only showed the unhappy couple more dis 
 tinctly Jheir forlorn and hopeless condition. The ship's 
 deck amidships was now nearly on a level with the ocean. 
 The mizzen-mast, by the weight of the sea which came on 
 board, was broken off about six feet from the deck ; the 
 main-mast was broken off just below the top, and, in falling 
 over the side, carried the foretop-mast along with it. The 
 ship's boats, spars, barrels, lumber, and movable things of 
 every description, were washed overboard by the destructive 
 wave. The caboose-house or galley, a mere box, encasing 
 the cooking-stove or caboose, situated well forward, and 
 strongly lashed to kingbolts in the deck, was left stand 
 ing, but was shaken and shattered by the angry billows. 
 These facts showed beyond doubt that while all hands were 
 aft bracing round the yards, the ship had been struck by a 
 combing sea, which came in over the quarter, and spent all 
 its force on the after part of the vessel and the waist. 
 
 The buoyant nature of the cargo prevented the ship from 
 sinking, although full of water % Mr. and Mrs. Bivington 
 took possession of the galley > as a place of refuge, but their 
 situation was pitiable in the extreme. Without clothing to 
 protect them frem the weather, without provisions of any 
 kind, and also destitute of water, in the midst of the wide 
 ocean, with no prospect of being seen and rescued by any 
 passing vessel, during the few days of intense suffering be 
 fore death would come to their relief, they might well give 
 themselves up to despair ! 
 
 Mr. Rivington found in the galley a piece of an old gar 
 ment belonging to the cook, which he managed to hoist, with 
 but faint hope that it would be seen by any friendly bark, 
 
SAILING AWAY. 29 
 
 and contribute to their deliverance. Four days this unfor 
 tunate couple passed in this dreadful condition, and many 
 and fervent were their prayers to the Almighty for succor in 
 the hour of need. The gnawings of hunger and thirst drove 
 them almost to madness. Their strength gradually departed. 
 Their courage failed them, and even the faint glimmerings 
 of hope faded away. But at the last moment, when death 
 had already marked them for his prey, the ship Saladin came 
 sailing along, the sharp eyes of Mark Rowland saw the 
 wreck afar off, and the husband and wife were taken from 
 the wreck, and relieved from sufferings too acute and soul- 
 rending for imagination to conceive. 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 
 
 ON the night after Mr. Rivington ha'd told the story of the 
 disaster with its thrilling details, Mark Rowland stayed late 
 on deck in the first watch, and listened to the conversation 
 among the sailors, who, seated cosily on the heel of the 
 bowsprit or the windlass end, freely discussed subjects con 
 nected with the wreck. 
 
 ." Tis a great pity," said a rough-looking old tar, named 
 Nicholas Haxon, who had passed a large portion of his life 
 on the salt water, but who still cherished a sailor's charac-. 
 teristic devotion for the gentler sex ; " 'tis a great pity that 
 the poor woman had no one with her in her trouble but her 
 husband, a fresh-water chap, who, I'll bet a biscuit, 'can't tell 
 the difference between a marline-spike and a handspike, and 
 is as green as the backbone of a gar-fish. If a real sailor 
 had been on board and steered clear of the clutches of Davy 
 Jones, he would have fished up something to wear and 
 something to eat, and would have contrived a better lodg 
 ing-place than that old galley." 
 
 "Avast there!" exclaimed Ned Thrumbo, one of his 
 watch-mates ; " clap a stopper on your jaw rope, if it veers 
 out such stuff as that. The ship was swamped, and her 
 decks were cleared of everything but the galley. Nothing 
 could be fished from the steerage or the cabin without a div 
 ing-bell or a grapnell. The man did the best for his wife 
 and himself that could be done. He deserves credit rather 
 than blame for comforting the poor woman, holding her in 
 
 30 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 31 
 
 his amis to warm her chilled frame, and keeping her alive 
 as long as he did. All the web-footed gentry in the world, 
 had they been on board, could not have mended the matter, 
 and whoever says otherwise is a fool and a know-nothing. 
 Poor little soul ! She has had miser}' enough during the 
 last week to make her despise salt water for the rest of her 
 life." 
 
 " She is doing well now, and so is her husband, according 
 to the captain's account," said Jack Manwell. "It was a 
 lucky thing that we fell in with the wreck as we did. A few 
 hours more would have brought them both up with a round 
 turn. That was a bright thought of Mr. Jarls, to send the 
 cabin-boy aloft at sunrise to take a look around the 
 horizon." 
 
 " It was x so ! " exclaimed Ned Thrumbo, with energy. 
 "If I had the power, I would compel every skipper that 
 crosses the ocean to see that a good lookout is kept from 
 aloft every hour in the day. In bad weather there should 
 be a crow's-nest in the cross-trees, after the fashion of the 
 whalers. We know not how many lives might be saved by 
 steering such a course." 
 
 " Cases have been known," said Nicholas Haxon, " where 
 poor sailors clinging to a raft or a wreck, have been passed 
 quite near, almost within hail, without being seen, and were 
 afterwards picked up by some vessel that kept a better 
 lookout." 
 
 " That's true," said Jack, "and I often go aloft and take 
 a careful look round, half expecting to see some brother 
 sailor on a floating spar, or clinging to a life-buoy. Some 
 captains, however, care not a ropeyarn for such things, so 
 long as they make quick and safe passages. Aye, and 
 some there are who would not go a point out of their way to 
 take a poor fellow off a wreck, if they fell in with one." 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Ned Thrumbo, ever disposed to look on 
 
32 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 the bright side, " you have lost your reckoning, Jack ! No 
 satlor would refuse to lend a- helping hand to a shipmate in 
 distress. If such a fellow could be found, and I had my 
 way, he should be fed for six months on a short allowance 
 of gulf-weed and bilge-water, and touched up with a rope's 
 end every hour while he lives on such diet." 
 
 " And serve him right, too ! " said Jack Manwell. " But, 
 as Nicholas says, such cases Jiave occurred ; some such har 
 dened scoundrels have sailed the ocean ; but I may say for 
 the credit of human nature in general, and salt-water life in 
 particular, are very seldom met with, and when met with, 
 should have the mark of a Cain stamped on their foreheads, 
 that they may be known on sea or on land." 
 
 " I have heard of such monsters, but never -believed in 
 them," said Ned ; " I always looked upon such stories as a 
 slander on the whole web-footed tribe. Did you ever Jcnow 
 a case, Jack, where a crew was left to perish in a sinking 
 ship, by an unfeeling ship-master ? " 
 
 "Yes," promptly replied Jack Manwell; "it happened 
 before I was born, in the year 1807. I have heard my 
 mother tell all about it thousands of times, and she was one 
 of the principal actors in the play. At the time, it was 
 much talked of all over the country, and many years will 
 pass away before it is forgotten in Marblehead, where, I am 
 sorry to say, the monster lived." 
 
 " What was his name ? " asked Ned. 
 
 " His name was Floyd Ireson, and he was skipper of a 
 fishing schooner. Returning one fall from the Banks, and 
 when only a fw hours' sail from port, he fell in with a 
 wreck, on which were three or four helpless creatures cling 
 ing to the rigging, and dying by inches. The heartless 
 skipper would not go to their assistance, and when remon 
 strated with by one of his men, he clinched his refusal wit. 
 
SALT-WATER MON3TER3. 33 
 
 a disgusting oath, and kept on the course towards his 
 home." 
 
 " And was there not heart and manliness enough among 
 the crew," asked Ned Thrumbo, "to wrest the vessel out of 
 the hands of the skipper, and steer a straight course for the 
 sinking wreck ? " 
 
 " That would never do," said Nicholas Haxon. " Such 
 doings would be mutiny, and the whole crew would be im 
 prisoned for life, or strifng up by the gills like a parcel of 
 stock-fish. Obey orders if you break owners, is my doc 
 trine, and a safe one." 
 
 " But not mine when the lives of fellow-creatures are at 
 stake," rejoined the warm-hearted Ned Thrumbo; "and I 
 don't believe a jury, even of landsmen, would hang a man 
 or send him to the State prison for doing what everybody 
 knows is right in the eyes of God and man." 
 
 "The cowardly fellows in the fishing schooner did not 
 steer according to your chart, Ned," said Jack Manwell, re 
 suming the thread of his narrative. " They . condemned the 
 cruel conduct of the skipper, but had not courage to put the 
 stony-hearted scoundrel in irons, take possession- of the 
 schooner, and take off those unfortunate men from the 
 wreck. The vessel in a few hours arrived in the harbor of 
 Marblehead, and the men hastened ashore and created a 
 great commotion among the people by exposing the conduct* 
 of the skipper. A vessel was immediately despatched to 
 look for the wreck anfl rescue any of the poor fellows who 
 might be living. But it was too late ; the wreck was never 
 found, and the unfortunate men who were seen lashed -to the 
 rigging, and raising their hands, imploring assistance, with 
 out doubt miserably perished." 
 
 "And what became of the skipper?" inquired Ned 
 Thrumbo. " Was there no law to bring him to his bear- 
 
34 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 ings, and give him a taste of the cat-o'-nine-tails ? I should 
 like to have been the boatswain's mate to lay it on." 
 
 "No law could reach him for such an act," said Jack. 
 "But the people old and young, men, women, and children 
 collected together, and resolved to punish him. At first, 
 they determined to lynch him by hanging him to a sign 
 post* But this plan was abandoned. Nevertheless, his 
 house was surrounded, and he was hauled out of his hiding- 
 place, pale and trembling, and begging for mercy. He re 
 ceived on the spot many kicks and cuffs from his indignant 
 townsmen, and was then stripped to the skin and gloriously 
 tarred and feathered, until he looked like a giant penguin. 
 He was hoisted on a platform in a cart drawn by oxen, and 
 carried in procession through every part of the town, amid 
 the hootings and curses of the populace. He was severely 
 punished for his barbarity. Some months passed before he 
 recovered from the injuries he received, and he never went 
 to sea afterwards in any capacity ; but remained in Marble- 
 head, where he lived for many years, universally despised. 
 Whenever he appeared in the streets, which was not often, 
 the boys would mock him and hallo after him, or sing in 
 rude chorus, 
 
 " ' There goes Floyd Ireson, who, for his hard heart, 
 "Was tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
 By the women of Marblehead.' " 
 
 " And served him right," said Ned. " 'Tis a pity, though, 
 that they had not lynched him at once, while they had a 
 chance. Such a fellow did not deserve to live, and the laws 
 which would not hang such a fellow are not worth a piece of 
 old junk." 
 
 After Mr. and Mrs. Rivington had been a fortnight on 
 board the Saladin, a ship was seen astern rapidly coming up. 
 It proved to be the ship Primrose, of New York, bound to 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 5 
 
 Pernambuco. The Primrose was hove-to at the request of 
 Captain Somers, who went on board and related to the mas 
 ter of the Primrose the distressing circumstances connected 
 with the foundering of the Clarion, and the rescue of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Rivington from the wreck, and also stating that it 
 was their earnest wish to be transferred to the Primrose and 
 landed at Pernambuco. 
 
 To this arrangement no objection wag made, and the two 
 passengers, after expressing their warmest thanks to Cap 
 tain Somers, his officers and crew, for their gallant and gen 
 erous conduct, and assuring Mark Rowland that they should 
 never forget his services, but remember him with kind and 
 grateful feelings, as it was his sharp eyes which discovered 
 the wreck, left the Saladin, amid the loudly-expressed kind 
 wishes and cheers of the sailors, and in a few minutes were 
 on board the Primrose on their way to Pernambuco. 
 
 As the ship Saladin advanced into the tropical latitudes, 
 new wonders excited ,the admiration of Mark Rowland. He 
 beheld the flights of flying-fish as they gracefully skimmed 
 along over the surface of the ocean, sometimes in sport, and 
 sometimes to escape from the jafrs of some devouring mon 
 ster ; he beheld the enormous masses and belts of gulf-weed 
 which the ship passed through day after day, and week after . 
 week, in that part of the Atlantic known as the Sargossa 
 Sea, and which serves as the habitation of myriads of shell 
 fish of many varieties ; he saw the dolphin, not the tunny- 
 fish, the dolphin of the ancients, but the beautiful, swift, 
 and graceful animal, clad in purple and gold, which sailors 
 love to look upon and welcome on board, for they always 
 anticipate with his coming the pleasant idea of " a glorious 
 chowder for all hands." He saw the boneta, the albicore, 
 and the barracooter, and on one occasion narrowly escaped 
 being devoured by a shark ! 
 
 This startling event took place one pleasant afternoon, 
 
36 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 when some sixty or eighty miles to the westward of the 
 Cape de Verde Islands. The easterly breeze which had 
 been gradually lessening for some days had almost died 
 away, and the ship had hardly steerage way, moving through 
 the water at the rate of only one or one and a half knots. 
 A goodly supply of fowls had been put on board in Boston, 
 for the benefit of those who lived in the cabin, and many of 
 them still remained in the coops. These were under the 
 direct charge of the cabin-boy ; but Mr. Smeaton, the second 
 officer, also took an interest in their welfare, and from a 
 motive not altogether unselfish, inasmuch as he was very 
 fond of fowls, especially when served up in the form of a 
 fricassee, or curried-stew, or a chicken-pie. 
 
 About six bells, or three o'clock, while Mr. Smeaton and 
 the watch on deck were forward attending to some necessary 
 duty, and Mr. Jarls was writing his log in the cabin, and 
 Captain Somers was taking a quiet nap in his state-room, 
 one of the inmates of the coop, a stately rooster, an especial 
 favorite, seeing no one on the quarter-deck but the helms 
 man, who was nodding at his post, and finding the door of 
 his prison-house unfastened, owing to some unaccountable 
 neglect, gravely walked out to take a more extended survey 
 of matters and things on deck. 
 
 He seemed to find them much to his liking, and was taking 
 a stroll to the lee side of the quarter-deck, looking as big as 
 a newly-created millionaire, when Mr. Smeaton espied him. 
 He was surprised to see the favorite bird strutting about 
 at liberty, and alarmed lest he should be* lost, immediately 
 began to devise measures for his capture. He commanded 
 every man to remain motionless, and not say a word, and 
 slowly crept aft himself, at the same time making a sign to 
 Peter Flam, the man at the helm, to come forward in the 
 same stealthy manner, and be prepared to lay violent hands 
 on the fugitive fowl when off his guard. 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 37 
 
 This mode of proceeding was shrewdly devised, and 
 might, perhaps, have been carried into successful execu 
 tion, had not another actor come forward, whose part was 
 not in the programme, and who, to the inexpressible indig 
 nation of the second mate, exploded the whole of his plan 
 just as it was being carried into effect. 
 
 Mark Rowland happened to be in the cabin at this time, 
 and, of course, knew nothing of what was taking place on 
 deck. He was called upon by Mr. Jarls, and directed to go 
 up and ask Mr. Smeaton about the ship's course. and rate of 
 sailing during the morning watch, which the second mate 
 had neglected to record on the log-slate. Mark rushed up 
 the companion-way in his usual lively and energetic manner, 
 and turning short round to leeward, came almost in contact 
 with the rooster just as Peter Flam had stretched out his 
 hand to grab the foolish bird by the leg ! 
 
 The result was an unfortunate one. The bird, frightened 
 out of all propriety, uttered a sharp cry, half cackle and 
 half crow, and spreading his wings, and giving a convulsive 
 start, with a hop, step, and jump, rose from the deck, just 
 cleared the quarter-rail, flew off fifteen or twenty yards from 
 the ship, and alighted on the water, in which unenviable 
 position, apparently ashamed and alarmed at the strange 
 mistake he had made, he looked towards the ship as if be 
 seeching to be taken on board again. 
 
 But the wrath of the second officer, when he saw the 
 rooster take wing and fly overboard, was overpowering, and 
 poor Mark was doomed to feel the brunt of his indignation. 
 " You idle, good-for-nothing monkey," said he, " you have 
 driven overboard a bird worth more than all your tribe. I 
 never saw a cabin-boy yet that earned his salt. They al 
 ways do ten times more mischief than they are worth ; and 
 for two coppers, I would kick you overboard to follow the 
 bird." 
 
 * 
 
38 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 Mark was astonished, and greatly hurt, at receiving this 
 unmerited broadside. He looked hard at the mate, then over 
 the -side of the ship upon the smooth water, and then at the 
 rooster buoyantly resting on its surface. He was a good 
 swimmer, having practised during the summer months in 
 Rhadamanthus Pond, a dark sheet of water situated but a 
 quarter of a mile from his mother's dwelling. It occurred to 
 him that if he had, although unconsciously, been the cause 
 of such a mighty piece of mischief as was represented by 
 Mr. Smeaton, his proper course would be to recover the lost 
 bird, and thus expiate the fault committed. And merely 
 nodding to the officer, as much as to say, " I will make it all 
 right, sir, directly," he jumped upon the taffrail, plunged 
 head foremost into the water, and with lusty strokes began 
 to swim away towards the bird. 
 
 Mr. Smeaton recovered his senses when he saw Mark 
 mount the taffrail, and commanded him in a loud voice to 
 step down. But it was too late. Mr. Jarls, hearing the 
 various noises, betokening something serious, came rush 
 ing on deck, closely followed by the captain. Some of the 
 sailors seeing Mark in the water, shouted, "A man over 
 board ! " which roused all hands on deck in a hurry. Mr. 
 Jarls ordered the helm to be put hard down, the tacks and 
 bowlines to be let go, and the yards squared, to stop the 
 ship's progress. The captain ordered the stern-boat to be 
 cleared away and lowered, and greatly alarmed at Mark's 
 foolhardiness, called aloud to him, " Come back, Mark, come 
 back ! Never mind the fowl ! Come back, or you'll be 
 drowned ! " 
 
 .- Altogether there was a wonderful commotion suddenly 
 conjured up on the decks of the Salactin. 
 
 Mark, who could not conceive of the possibility of danger 
 in swimming in such smooth water, kept on his course to 
 secure the fowl, now some fifteen or twenty fathoms from 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. . 89 
 
 the ship. The stern-boat was lowered with all possible dis 
 patch, and Mr. Jarls sprang into it, with a couple of sailors, 
 who seized the oars and began to pull towards the cabin- 
 boy, when all at once a v large, dark-looking object shot out 
 from beneath the ship, rose nearly to the surface, and swam 
 swiftly away, following in the wake of Mark Rowland. 
 
 " A shark ! a shark ! " exclaimed the sailors, in a tone of 
 horror. 
 
 " God have mercy on the poor boy ! " said Captain Som- 
 ers ; " but I fear 'tis all over with him. Mr. Jarls/' he con 
 tinued, hailing the mate, " do you see the shark? Give way, 
 men, and save the poor fellow from the monster's jaws. Mr. 
 Jarls, seize the boat-hook, and fight him off." 
 
 The mate had seen the shark, and the men were pulling 
 with all their strength ; but the shark took the lead, paying 
 no attention to the boat, and Mr. Jarls, acting on the sug 
 gestion of Captain Somers, seized the boat-hook, a staff 
 some six or eight feet long, with a hook and a stout spike at 
 the end. He now took his stand in the bow, and gave direc 
 tions to the men how to pull. Meanwhile Mark, utterly 
 unconscious of his danger, intent only on capturing the 
 fowl, had nearly reached the fugitive, and slackened his 
 efforts with a view to lay his hand gently upon him. This 
 gave a fine opportunity for the shark, which had now ranged 
 alongside the cabin-boy, to seize upon his prey, an oppor 
 tunity which he did not neglect. The ferocious animal 
 turned over on his side, that he might more conveniently 
 snap off one or both of the legs, which, in a very appetizing 
 manner, were dangling in the water. 
 
 But the boat came thundering on, with Mr. Jarls, a stout, 
 muscular man, in the bow, with a formidable weapon in his 
 hands. Just as the shark had assumed a convenient atti 
 tude, and was about to take the first bite from the tempting 
 repast which chance had thrown in his way, the spike of the 
 
40 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 boat-hook came down on the side of his devoted head, 
 crashed through the bones, and doubtless penetrated the 
 brain. The shark acknowledged the force of the blow by 
 leaping nearly out of water, then swam off rapidly with the 
 boat-hook sticking in his cranium, pursuing a very crooked 
 course, and finally disappeared altogether in the depths 
 below ! 
 
 Mark was picked up and taken on board, and also the 
 foolish fowl, which had been the cause of so much trouble, 
 and which, by Captain Somers's orders, was handed over to 
 the steward to furnish, the next day, a sea-pie for the cabin 
 dinner. Mark was rebuked by the captain for his" folly in 
 jumping overboard at sea, under any circumstances, and 
 admonished to stick by the ship in all weathers ; and having 
 been greatly startled when told of his narrow escape from 
 the shark, he faithfully promised that he would never again 
 expose himself to such a danger, unless to save the life of a 
 fellow-creature. 
 
 That evening, in the dog-watch, the startling incidents of 
 the day were fully discussed on the quarter-deck and on the 
 forecastle. Captain Somers referred to the well-known case 
 of the British man-of-war in Port Royal, Jamaica. This 
 ship had occasion to lay at anchpr in the harbor a long time, 
 and the captain, finding his men frequently deserting by 
 swimming ashore during the night, tolled the sharks around 
 by feeding them occasionally with choice morsels of food. 
 One of these sharks, of great size and ferocity, known as 
 " Big Tom," was particularly vigilant as a guard, prowling 
 around at all hours, within sight of the ship, and gobbling 
 up sailor after sailor in their attempts to escape by swim 
 ming from the horrors of a British man-of-war. But unfor 
 tunately Big Tom could not be taught to distinguish between 
 friend and foe, and he finally lost the confidence of the cap 
 tain, who even persecuted him to death because the stupid 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 41 
 
 brute one evening gobbled up the captain's son, a young 
 " middy," who, being more than half drunk, fell overboard 
 while getting out of the boat alongside. And but little sym 
 pathy did the captain get from the crew for the loss of his 
 son. 
 
 " The narrow escape which Mark Rowland had to-day 
 from the jaws of a shark," said Mr. Jarls to Captain Som- 
 ers, "reminds me of an incident of a similar character, 
 which I once witnessed in Manilla, when I was a sailor on 
 board the ship Vashti, belonging to Newburyport. One Sun 
 day, while the ship was lying at anchor at Cavite, a portion 
 of the crew bad liberty to go ashore, and, as is too often the 
 case, when they came on board in the afternoon, some of 
 them were greatly the worse for liquor, and of course par 
 tially bereft of reason, transformed for the time from rational 
 beings into brutes. Among these was an old salt, who went 
 by the name of Dan Colwell. He came on board in another 
 ship's boat, about four o'clock, crazy drunk, and stormed 
 about the deck, making great noise and confusion, until 
 compelled to go below by the officers. 
 
 " A few minutes after Dan Colwell went below, a large 
 shark made his appearance not far from the ship, slowly 
 moving about just beneath the surface of the water, with his 
 back fin and the upper part of his tail sticking out, as if 
 to warn all living creatures in that neighborhood to be on 
 their guard. His appearance, of course, caused no little 
 excitement. There was much running about the decks,, loud 
 inquiries made for the shark-hook, harpoon, &c., and sug 
 gestions about getting ready a running bowline. 
 
 " Dan Colwell, who had been persuaded by his shipmates 
 to turn in, in order to sleep off the effect of his strong pota 
 tions, no sooner heard the word ' shark,' than he rolled out 
 of his berth, and followed his shipmates on deck. 
 
 "' Where is the man-eating rascal?' cried Dan. 'Let 
 
 4* 
 
42 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 me come at Mm. I am just in the trim to astonish him, 
 to cut him 'up into minced meat, or slit him into strips for a 
 lobscouse ! ' So saying, he opened his large jack-knife, 
 which hung by a laniard around his neck, and, before his 
 shipmates could prevent him, or indeed guess what was his 
 intention, he threw himself over the gunwale into the water, 
 and struck out boldly towards the sea-monster, that was 
 plainly in sight, swimming away some twenty or thirty 
 yards off. 
 
 "The shark, hearing the splash in the water, turned 
 round, and after a sort of inquiring pause, began to swim 
 slowly towards the ship. He soon espied Dan, and quick 
 ened his motions, probably with the expectation of making 
 a hearty meal of a tough old sailor. 
 
 " The crew, of course, were greatly alarmed at the dan 
 ger which threatened their drunken shipmate, and clamor 
 ously insisted on his coming back to the ship. But Dan was 
 obstinate, and kept on his course, and before anything could 
 be done by those on board for his succor, the shark was 
 by his side, and fixed upon him his glittering eye, and seemed 
 in a very loving mood. 
 
 " The poor fellow's senses, which had been wandering, 
 suddenly resumed their usual functions. He became sober 
 as if by magic, and realized his danger to its full extent. 
 He knew that his own folly or madness had placed him in a 
 most perilous position. He turned and swam towards the 
 ship, exerting all the strength of which he was master. He 
 was closely followed by the shark, which animal, it is well 
 known, will seldom or never attack a man while vigorously 
 swimming or moving about in the water, as he has to turn 
 on his side before he can seize his prey, owing to the peculiar 
 construction of his jaws. 
 
 " Dan Colwell, in an agony of alarm, cried out right ear- 
 
SALT-WATER MONSTERS. 43 
 
 nestty for help. ' Oh, Mr. Hardoc, save me from the shark ! 
 Help ! help ! help ! ' 
 
 " His screams and appeals for help were heard all over the 
 harbor, but there was little chance for help at that particu 
 lar time. The small boat was ashore with the captain, and 
 the long boat was on the other side and without oars, which 
 were quietly reposing on the deck of the ship, and help to 
 be effective must be immediate. The chief mate, however, 
 was a man of great presence of mind, and his resources in 
 an emergency seemed inexhaustible. He called to the stew 
 ard to hand him the musket from the cabin. This musket 
 was one of a dozen clumsy-looking but formidable weapons, 
 put on board for defence in case of an attack from pirates. 
 It had been recently used by the captain in shooting gulls 
 and other water fowl, on the passage, and was now standing 
 in a corner of the cabin, loaded with a heavy charge of 
 powder and swan shot. 
 
 " The musket was almost instantly passed into the hands 
 of the mate, who, with wonderful dexterity, drew out the 
 heavy iron- ramrod, picked a ropey arn from the deck and 
 wound it around the end, and then thrust it into the ban-el 
 of the gun. He cocked the gun, and ' pointing it in the 
 direction of Dan Colwell and his companion, held himself 
 in readiness to act. All this passed in a much quicker 
 period of time than it requires to relate it. 
 
 " In the mean while Dan was swimming back to the ship, 
 his features distorted with terror, and still roaring for help, 
 and the shark sticking to him closer than a brother. The 
 second mate stood by with the harpoon, ready to make war 
 upon the shark. One of the men had armed himself with 
 the five-pronged grainse, and assumed a hostile attitude. 
 Men also stood ready to lend a hand in the rescue of their 
 shipmate, some in the main chain-wales, and some on deck, 
 with ropes and poles, bowlines and buoys. 
 
44 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 " Dan had nearly reached the side of the ship, and was 
 about grasping a bowline which one of his shipmates had 
 thrown to him to clap round his waist, when the shark, deter 
 mined not to be cheated out of his prey, placed himself in 
 a position to take the first mouthful of such a tempting 
 morsel. 
 
 " And now all the ropes and bowlines and boats and 
 shouts in the world would have little availed Dan Colwell, 
 and he would have been food for a fish, perhaps for fishes, 
 if Mr. Hardoc had not taken deliberate aim at the sea-mon 
 ster, and pulled the trigger just as he was showing his glis 
 tening teeth. The noise of the gun, and the shot striking the 
 water around the shark, must have astonished him greatly, 
 but the iron ramrod, which passed right through his body, 
 did more. The monster abandoned his prey, floundered 
 about a few minutes, seeming bewildered, and then probably 
 sank to the bottom, for we saw him no more. 
 
 " Dan Colwell was taken on board, more dead than alive. 
 I never saw a man so terribly frightened in my life. He 
 dropped on his knees as soon as he reached the deck, and 
 devoutly thanked God for saving him from the jaws of the 
 shark, and he took a solemn oath on the spot that he would 
 never taste a drop of spirituous liquors again, and I have 
 reason to believe that he kept his word." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SOLITARY CRUISE. 
 
 WHILE the officers were busily engaged on the quarter 
 deck in discussing the subject of sea-monsters, a subject sug 
 gested by the events of the day, the men belonging to tho 
 watch, cosily seated on the spare spars under the lee of the 
 long-boat, took up another subject of equal interest, which 
 was also suggested by those occurrences. They spoke of 
 the evil consequences of jumping overboard, and swimming 
 away from the ship, even during a calm at sea, and related 
 several cases where fatal results had ensued from thus in 
 dulging in a foolish whim or a frolicsome disposition. 
 " You are right, shipmates," said Sam Welkin, an old 
 sailor, of a robust frame, with a grave countenance and quiet 
 habits, who talked a great deal, talked well, too, but had 
 hitherto been an attentive listener to the conversation. " A 
 man should stick to his ship, whether it blows high or blows 
 low ; and when on the broad ocean, or thumping against a 
 rock-bound shore in a gale of wind, should never abandon 
 his ship for a moment and trust to his skill in swimming." 
 
 " But suppose he tumbles into the big pond by accident? " 
 inquired Jack Manwell. 
 
 " He could not meet with worse luck ! " said Sam Welkin, 
 with a shudder. " But that will not be his fault, and he 
 must do the best he can, with the chances terribly against 
 his ever lounging on a ship's forecastle, or getting a glimpse 
 
 45 
 
46 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 of an old landmark or light-house again. Did you ever fall 
 overboard at sea, Jack? " 
 
 "Never, shipmate," replied Jack. "I never met with 
 such bad luck. I was jerked off the foretop-sail yard one 
 dark night, while reefing top-sails on board the brig Tarantula 
 in the Bay of Biscay, bound to Bordeaux ; and while one of 
 my shipmates, poor fellow, who was on the lee yard-arm, 
 was tossed into the water some dozen fathoms from tjie ship's 
 side, and was never heard of afterwards, I was gently 
 landed in the foretop, with only a sprained wrist and a 
 bruised figure-head." 
 
 " When I was in the ship Dagon, bound to Greenock, and 
 lying to under bare poles off the Isle of Sable," said a hard- 
 looking old sailor, named Jason, " we shipped a sea which 
 swept the deck, and washed overboard the second mate and 
 the whole larboard watch, who all went to Davy's locker ex 
 cept myself, and I was saved only by being entangled in the 
 fore-sheet, which nearly twisted off my starboard flipper be 
 fore I got on board. And shipmates, it was sad to see them 
 poor fellows in the ship's wake, broad off on the weather- 
 quarter, before they went down, rising on the top of the 
 waves, and stretching out their arms toward us, as if asking 
 for aid which could not be given." 
 
 " Aye, such things are sad to witness," said Jack Man- 
 well. " But I suppose they are all right. A man that goes 
 to sea must expect to meet with squalls now and then. He 
 can't expect to sail always in smooth water ; otherwise, d'ye 
 see, everybody would want to be a sailor, so we should be 
 thankful for our lot such as it is, and not grumble at a hard 
 chance." 
 
 Mark Rowland had crept in among the sailors, and was an 
 eager listener to their conversation. He was much impressed 
 by the remarks made by Sam Welkin, and the feeling man 
 ner in which they were delivered ; and he interrupted the 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. 47 
 
 pause which followed Jack's philosophical reflections, by 
 turning to Sam Welkin, and plumply asking the question, 
 " Did you ever fall overboard at sea, Sam?" 
 
 "Once, and only once," replied the case-hardened old 
 sailor ; " but I did not take it so kindly as Jack Man well is 
 disposed to ; and while I was in the water with no expecta 
 tion of getting out, I am afraid I grumbled a little at my 
 hard luck. And you may rely on my word, shipmates, that 
 it is a fearful thing for a man to be floating on the ocean 
 buoyed up by a plank, a spar, or a life-buoy, with no vessel 
 in sight, and not one chance in a thousand that he will ever 
 see a human face again, or grasp a shipmate by the hand. 
 At such a time a man thinks fast, and in one hour lives half 
 a century. He looks back upon his past life, and well for 
 him if it is free from twists and crooks and kinks. His suf 
 ferings are terrible. I would not wish my worst enemy to 
 be in his mess." 
 
 "How happened you to fall overboard, Sam?" inquired 
 Mark Rowland. " I do wish you would tell us all about it ? " 
 
 "Aye, give us the whole yarn, old fellow," said Jack 
 Manweli ; " we are all longing to have it twisted. What say 
 ye, shipmates?" 
 
 A hearty response in the affirmative settled the question. 
 Sam Welkin acceded to the wishes of his friends, and, in his 
 loftiest style, for he was something of a scholar, and could 
 repeat half of " Falconer's Shipwreck " without looking into 
 the book, and two thirds of Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner," 
 favored them with the following narrative, illustrative of 
 the perilous incidents which chequer the life of a sailor. 
 
 " About eighteen years ago I shipped as a sailor on board 
 the brig Silkworm, Captain Biffin, bound on a voyage from 
 New York to Gibraltar and a market. We had been about 
 a fortnight on the passage and were nearly half way across 
 
48 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 the Atlantic, when one evening, just after dark, a black cloud 
 suddenly appeared on the weather-quarter, and came rapidly 
 towards us. The captain, who was on deck, ordered the light 
 sails to be taken in, and the flying-jib having been hauled 
 down, I passed out over the bowsprit to furl it. I reached 
 the flying jib-boom, and had just gathered in the sail in readi 
 ness to pass the gasket, when the squall struck the brig. 
 It came with a sudden gust ; the sail, light as it was, flapped 
 heavily, caught me around the head, and twisted me over the 
 boom, so that before I could clutch the jib-stay, guy, or any 
 other rope, I fell from the jib-boom into the water. 
 
 " The ship, dashing onward, passed directly over me, but 
 I came to the surface when I got in the wake, and puffed 
 and blowed like a porpoise to recover my breath. ' I could 
 swim like a seal, and did not at first realize the danger of 
 my position. I looked around for the ship, and cloudy as it 
 was, could see her distinctly, and also hear the shouts on 
 board, c A man overboard ! Welkin has fallen from the jib- 
 boom ! ' was repeated fore and aft. 
 
 "Captain Biffin was a kind-hearted man. He was all 
 alive on this occasion. He instantly gave orders in a loud 
 and decided tone. ' Hard down the helm ! hard down ! Clear 
 away the stern-boat ! Be handy, men, and save the poor fel 
 low's life ! Throw over the booby-hatch ! Throw over a 
 hen-coop I Square away the main-yard. ' 
 
 " Now, mounting the taffrail, the captain called out in a 
 clear and encouraging voice, and every syllable he uttered I 
 heard with the utmost distinctness, for at such a time, ship 
 mates, a man's senses are all wide awake : * Keep up your 
 spirits, Sam! Don't be discouraged! The -boat will be 
 alongside of you in no time ! " 
 
 " The booby-hatch and a hen-coop were tossed overboard 
 the moment the alarm was given, and while I was but a 
 short distance astern of the ship. 1 attempted to get hold 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. "49 
 
 of one of them, knowing that my only chance was, not in 
 trying to swim towards the brig, but in reserving my strength 
 to keep my head above water until the boat could be lowered 
 and manned and sent to my relief. After swimming about 
 for a few minutes I got hold of the booby-hatch, to which I 
 clung as closely as a sucker-fish will cling to the back of a 
 shark. 
 
 " The brig going through the water seven or eight knots 
 when the squall struck her, was at least a quarter of a mile 
 off before her way could be stopped and the boat lowered ; 
 and even when the brig was rounded to, she continued to 
 drift to leeward faster than a man could swim in. smooth 
 water. Clinging to the booby-hatch, which, as you know, 
 shipmates, is something like an open box, six or eight feet 
 square and a couple of feet deep, and made of light pine 
 plank, I could keep my head out of the water most of the 
 time without any great effort, and thus had opportunity and 
 leisure to work a traverse in my own mind, and find out how 
 the chances stood. 
 
 " It was now nearly dark, and I knew I could not be seen 
 from the ship, if indeed I had been seen at all, after having 
 fallen overboard ; and at that moment I earnestly prayed to 
 God that the boat might be pulled towards the spot where I 
 was floating on the water. I shuddered when I thought 
 that, in the darkness, the boat'vS crew might not know in 
 what direction to steer, and after looking around a while, 
 and not finding me, might suppose I was drowned, and go 
 back to the ship, leaving me to my fate. 
 
 " I saw the boat put off from the ship. I saw the dark 
 object as it approached. My heart fluttered with hope, but 
 soon sunk within me as the men ceased rowing, while the 
 boat was still at a distance. I could hear the shouts of 
 the men calling out my name, as they rose faintly above the 
 murmur of the waves around me. I tried to answer the 
 
50 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 glad sounds, and attract attention by shouts louder than 
 their own, but my voice was weak and hoarse, either 
 through exhaustion by swimming or by swallowing a double 
 allowance of salt water, and I soon became aware, to my 
 great dismay, that in spite of my utmost exertions I could 
 not make myself heard by the men in the boat. 
 
 "The boat came no nearer, but went off on another 
 course, and then came back towards me, the men continuing 
 at intervals to call out my name, and then they pulled 
 round and round, and backwards and forwards, several 
 times. It was a moment of maddening suspense. I exert 
 ed, but in vain, all my powers of voice and limb to tel 
 egraph to my shipmates that I was still alive, and alive like 
 to be, within hail, and almost within their reach, and by a 
 slight effort on their part could be picked up and carried on 
 board the brig. But although they often appeared to listen, 
 they could not hear^my voice, which the more I tried to raise 
 it as if hailing the deck from the maintop-mast cross-trees 
 in a pampero the more I felt it sounded faint, hoarse, and 
 asthmatic^ as if a grape-shot was lodged in my throat. 
 
 " I will do Mr. Caswell, the second mate, and my ship 
 mates who were with him in the boat, the justice to say that 
 they exerted themselves manfully, and did all that could 
 have been expected from sailors of the true blue stamp, to 
 find my course and bearings on that memorable evening, but 
 they could not do it." 
 
 " Could not do it?" exclaimed Mark Eowland, in a tone 
 of wonder. " Did not the boat's crew find you before you 
 were entirely exhausted, and take you on board ? " 
 
 " No," replied Sam, resuming his narrative, " a light was 
 now displayed from the ship, and a musket was fired as a 
 signal for the boat to return ; and lads, you may imagine 
 the horror which froze my blood, when the conviction was 
 forced upon me ihat the boat had abandoned the search and 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. 51 
 
 x 
 
 was returning to the ship. With straining eyeballs I still 
 gazed in the direction of the vessel on whose decks I lately 
 trod, and threw my hands towards her in agony, madly en 
 treating, in hoarse whispers, for that help which I knew now 
 I should not receive. Through the shadows of night I could 
 see the dark mass in the distance gradually growing more 
 and more indistinct, until it was entirely lost to my view. 
 
 " And now I was in the midst of the wide ocean, floating 
 on the waves, alone ! A dreadful solitude, with certain 
 death staring me in the face. My brain seemed to whirl 
 /ound, my head was giddy, and I was sick at heart, when I 
 realized my condition. After a time I recovered my reason 
 to a certain extent, and actually began to speculate on my 
 fate ! I tried to calculate how long I should hold out, 
 hanging on to that float in the water; whether the wind 
 would rise, and the waves angrily dash over me and soon 
 end my sufferings, or whether, overcome by fatigue and 
 sleep, I should release my grip, and sink quietly beneath 
 the waves. Perhaps it would be my lot to die a slow death 
 by starvation. 
 
 " While indulging in these speculations I felt a strange 
 curiosity and earnest desire to know what would become of 
 me, not merely the manner of my death, but my destina 
 tion after death. Should I be punished dreadfully and eter 
 nally for the many sins I had committed on earth, or would 
 the Lord, in his infinite mercy, taking into view the few 
 chances I had of improving my mind and morals, and the 
 many temptations that had beset me on every side, forgive 
 my sins and take me to his bosom? At that hour, ship 
 mates, which I considered my dying hour, I heartily repent 
 ed of all my sins. 
 
 " Then again a gleam of hope would flit across my mind. 
 My situation was not so bad but that it might have been 
 worse. I had something to cling to, which, should the 
 
52 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 weather continue moderate, would aid me to float a long 
 time on the water, and my heart throbbed with pleasure, 
 when the idea flashed across my mind that if I could hold 
 on until the next morning, it was possible some vessel 
 might cross that spot and extend a helping hand. 
 
 " But when I reflected that but few vessels took that track 
 across the ocean, and that even if one passed within a quar 
 ter of a mile, the chances were a thousand to one against my 
 being seen, my float being even with the water, and no sig 
 nal being displayed. I again abandoned all hope, and could 
 hardly help regretting that my life was prolonged. I felt a 
 strong impulse, which I could hardly resist, to quit my booby- 
 hatch, and put an end to this terrible state of suspense and 
 uncertainty. - 
 
 " Then fortitude would come to my aid, and I resolved, 
 desperate as my condition was, to struggle for life as long 
 as I could move a muscle, and stave off to the most distant 
 period possible the hour of death. For oh, shipmates, life 
 is sweet. Though sometimes we meet with rough weather, 
 head winds, squalls, typhoons, and hurricanes on the voyage, 
 we more frequently meet with prosperous breezes and un 
 ruffled seas. There are joys and comforts as well as troub 
 les in this world, and as to the future who knows what 
 will be its character? Not a poor ignorant sailor like 
 myself! 
 
 " And then I thought of my home, of my childhood, when 
 I rambled through the woods and pastures, happy in the 
 present and looking forward to joy in the future. I thought 
 of my parents, of my kind and loving mother, my brothers 
 and sisters, none of whom I had seen for years, but who 
 never seemed so near and dear as at that moment when I 
 was about to land on the dark shores of another world. 
 
 " But it is impossible to tell all which passed through my 
 mind on that terrible night a night so long that I feared 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. 53 
 
 it would n.ever end. My nerves were sadly out of tune, my 
 heart beat violently, and my brain throbbed with excitement. 
 If I should live for ages, I shall never forget it. How rap 
 idly I thought ! How clear and distinct were my recollec 
 tions ! My whole Ufa with its many incidents, and every 
 person with whom I had ever associated, or in whose welfare 
 I had felt any interest, passed in review before me ! 
 
 " Hours passed away. The wind continued light, and the 
 sea comparatively smooth. The stars shone with unusual 
 brilliancy. The waves no longer broke over me as if impa 
 tient to engulf me ; and as I partly rested my body on the 
 buoyant hatchway, which rose and fell with the ocean swell, 
 and upon the sides of. which I retained a firm grasp with my 
 fingers, I actually fell into a doze, and, unlikely as it may 
 seem, was for a while unconscious of the horrors of my 
 situation. 
 
 When I awoke the streaks of early dawn were visible in 
 the east, and I eagerly watched the approach of day to cast 
 an eye around the horizon. Having been so wonderfully 
 preserved for many hours, I was led to indulge a faint, but 
 hardly acknowledged hope that 1 should be rescued from the 
 waves by some passing vessel. 
 
 " As daylight advanced, I could see to a considerable dis 
 tance in every direction. No object met my view but the 
 sky above and the dark waters around and beneath me. The 
 last spark of hope was extinguished, and I made up my 
 mind to meet my fate like a man. 
 
 " But just as the sun rose above the horizon, an object in 
 the west caught my eye, which reflected the rays of the sun, 
 and shone like a white speck afar oiT. I at once knew it was 
 a ship, and my heart swelled again with expectation and 
 hope. I kept my eyes steadily fixed .on that object, anxious 
 to know the course it was steering, and by its rapidly in 
 creasing size, I soon knew it was approaching ! 
 
54 MATiK HOWL AND. 
 
 " My eyes were riveted on that vessel. It was not long 
 before I could count her sails, and see between her masts. 
 The ship was on a wind steering to the north-east, and if she 
 kept on that course would pass me at least a couple of miles 
 to the northward. I watched her course with intense inter 
 est. Every manoeuvre, every change, every motion, was 
 closely noted, and 1 fervently prayed that some circumstance 
 might occur to bring her within hail. An hour passed, and 
 she kept on in the same direction. My hopes again van 
 ished. But suddenly the wind hauled to the northward and 
 headed the ship off a couple of points, and to my great joy 
 she was put about on the other tack, and headed almost 
 directly towards me !^ 
 
 "As the ship approached, the wind became unsteady. 
 Sometimes I was on her weather-bow, sometimes on her lee- 
 bow, and sometimes directly ahead. No one can imagine 
 the agony of my suspense as I watched that vessel. As she 
 drew near, and steering almost a straight course for my 
 booby-hatch, a flaw of wind struck her and headed her off a 
 couple of points, enough to carry her in a few minutes past 
 me, and beyond the reach of my voice. Knowing this was 
 my only chance, that ' now or never ' was the word, I left 
 the kind float which had so long borne me above the waves, 
 and struck off in a course which would carry me ahead of 
 the ship. Fortunately for me the wind was now light, and 
 the ship was no clipper, and I soon reached my station 
 directly in her hawse, which I felt would enable me to speak 
 her, if she kept on her course. 
 
 " By this time I had recovered the full tone of my voice, 
 and as soon as I thought I could be heard by the men on her 
 decks, I began to hail, ' Ship ahoy ! ship ahoy ! throw me 
 a rope ! ' 
 
 xc I hailed several times, and was nearly alongside to lee 
 ward before I could make them understand that a poor lost 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. 55 
 
 sailor was in the sea, and bellowing for help. I was dis 
 gusted with their stupidity. At length the man at the helm 
 heard me, and after looking around for a few seconds, he 
 said in a sleepy tone, ' Captain Dace, Captain Dace, I I 
 believe, somebody, or something is hailing the ship 
 there to leeward ! ' 
 
 "The captain, mate, and all hands rushed to the side of 
 the ship at this startling announcement, so lazily given, and 
 were greatly astonished and frightened at seeing my ugly- 
 looking figure-head sticking up out of the water, and hearing 
 me, in passable English, call out to them not to stand there 
 idly staring at a sailor adrift, but to bear a hand and send a 
 boat, for I had had swimming enough to last me my life 
 time, and wanted to be taken oh board ! 
 
 "This brought them to their senses, and it no sooner 
 flashed upon their minds that I was no marine monster, but 
 a poor fellow-creature in distress, than the captain, in his 
 excitement, took off his hat, waved it around his head, and 
 threw it overboard, at the same time giving orders to ' square 
 the main-yard ! ' The men gave three cheers, the most wel 
 come sounds I ever heard in my life, and sprung to their 
 work. The ship's way was stopped, the quarter-boat was 
 lowered, and in less than five minutes I was on board the 
 ship Coquille, Captain Richard Dace, bound from Providence 
 to Gibraltar and a market. 
 
 " And shipmates, I was treated in the kindest manner on 
 board this ship, supplied with clothes, and made comfortable 
 in every way. But the Coquille being a dull sailer, we were 
 a long time in reaching Gibraltar, and on the afternoon on 
 which we entered the bay we espied a brig coming out of 
 the harbor and steering for the Mediterranean. This brig 
 was the Silkworm, the same old craft from whose flying jib- 
 boom I tumbled into the sea some five weeks before. I 
 recognized her at once, and told Captain Dace, who hoisted 
 
56 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 a signal, ran down towards her, and hailing her, asked the 
 captain to heave to for a few minutes, as he wanted to send 
 a boat on board. , 
 
 " Captain' Biffin complied with the request, wondering 
 what the stranger wanted. The boat was manned. I shook 
 hands with Captain Dace, his officers, and the whole ship's 
 company, and wished them endless prosperity, for if I had 
 been a brother they could not have treated me more kindly. 
 I took my seat in the stern of the boat, and in a few minutes 
 was alongside the brig. I bade my kind friends in the 
 boat good-by, stepped into the main-chainwales, and sprang 
 lightly over the gunwale to the main-deck and into the 
 midst of the group of officers and men who were gathered 
 there, curious to know what was the trouble. I stared Cap 
 tain Biffin full in the face, took off my hat, and, scratching 
 my head, said, in the most respectful manner, " I have come 
 aboard, sir, at last ! ' 
 
 " I never saw a man so astonished as Captain Biffin was 
 when he caught my eye as I was coming over the gunwale. 
 He turned as pale as an iceberg, and stepped back a pace or 
 two, as if he had seen a ghost. But when I took off my hat 
 and he heard my voice, he exclaimed, ' It is Sam Welkin, 
 as sure as there's snakes in Virginny. Boys/ he continued, 
 turned to the wondering crew, ' here's your old shipmate, 
 Sam Welkin, come aboard again safe and sound. He has 
 managed by some means to get to windward of Davy Jones, 
 after all ! ' 
 
 " The men gave three rousing hurrahs, which fairly shook 
 the old brig, and one after another grasped my hand as if 
 determined to twist my arm off. The captain now gave the 
 order to ' fill away the maintop-sail,' in which work, not 
 withstanding my exposure and fatigue and weakness, after 
 having been soaked so long in salt water, I willingly lent a 
 
A SOLITARY CRUISE. 57 
 
 I 
 
 hand, and in half an hour, having rounded c the Rock,' -we 
 were sailing merrily up the Mediterranean ! " 
 
 So ended the yarn which Sam Welkin reeled off to his 
 admiring shipmates. But all good-natured comments or 
 sharp criticisms, which might have been expected from his 
 auditors, were prevented ; for he had hardly got through 
 when the man at the helm called out "Eight bells!" and 
 the officer of the deck gave the glad order, " Call the 
 watch!" 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 
 
 As the Saladin reached the tropical latitudes, and was 
 quietly urged onwards by the light trade-winds, Mark Row 
 land was astonished at the vast numbers of flying-fish which 
 frequented that part of the ocean. They reminded him of 
 the story he had heard of a boy who, having returned from 
 a voyage to the West Indies, was amusing his grandmother 
 with false or exaggerated accounts of wonders he had seen. 
 But when he began to tell about flying-fish, the good old 
 lady cut short his stories at once by saying, " That's enough, 
 Tom. Your talk' about rivers of rum and mountains of 
 sugar I believed, because such things are possible ; but as 
 for flying-fish, I don't believe a syllable about them ! " 
 
 Sometimes these fish, with wings which they never flap, 
 would rise several feet out of the water in flocks of fifty or 
 a hundred, and after Skimming along over the waves a dis 
 tance of fifteen or twenty fathoms, drop into their native 
 element, and were seen no more. And often in the night, 
 when there was a breeze, a flock of flying-fish on the wing, 
 not aware that there was a large, unwieldly monster in the 
 shape of a ship in their immediate neighborhood, would 
 strike against the weather-side of the Saladin, and perhaps 
 a half dozen, and sometimes a dozen, of these curious and 
 interesting inhabitants of the deep would be wafted over the 
 
 58 
 
A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 59 
 
 gunwale, and fall on the deck, furnishing a breakfast next 
 morning for the inmates of the cabin, for which an epicure 
 would pawn his most costly jewel. 
 
 Where there are many flying-fish dolphins are also often 
 met with, and the winged fishes constitute an important ar 
 ticle of food for the larger inhabitants of the deep. Mark 
 Rowland was deeply interested in watching the motions and 
 habits of these animals, the pursuer and the pursued, the 
 ruthless destroyer and his victim. His sympathies, being al 
 ways warmly enlisted in behalf of the persecuted flying-fish, 
 he would sometimes go out on the bowsprit, and seating him 
 self in the forestay-sail netting, keep his eye on the dolphin, 
 while the scaly tyrant was prowling around in search of his 
 prey. 
 
 This beautiful but ferocious fish would gently and quietly 
 draw near the bows of the ship, but generally keeping far 
 enough off to be out of danger from the grainse or any other 
 offensive weapon, then apparently motionless, without mov 
 ing a fin, he would swim along, keeping exactly in the same 
 relative position, all the time looking ahead, intent on mis 
 chief. All at once he would dart forward swifter than any 
 race-horse starting from his post ; anc^ at the same moment 
 a flock of flying-fish, terrified and fearing for their lives, 
 would rise and shoot along over the surface of the water 
 with great velocity, until their strength was exhausted. But 
 when these persecuted creatures dropped into the water 
 their mortal enemy, who had kept pace with them in their 
 flight, was there, directly beneath them, ready and eager to 
 snap them up, one after another, until his appetite was sat 
 isfied. Indeed, seldom is a dolphin taken in those latitudes 
 without finding within, him several flying-fish which were just 
 entombed. These are carefully preserved in pickle, to be 
 used for bait, and in their turn become the means of destroy 
 ing the enemies of their race ! 
 
60 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 One afternoon Mark Rowland went aloft, as he was apt to 
 do, to take a look round the horizon and across the water, 
 to learn what was going on in old Neptune's dominions. 
 Not a vessel or a wreck was in sight, nor did he see any un 
 fortunate sailor clinging to a booby-hatch. But on looking 
 on the water nearer the ship, he saw two dolphins of large 
 size, a few fathoms from the ship on the lee- bow, swimming 
 along very lovingly together. 
 
 " Hallo ! " quoth Mark to himself. " A pair of dolphins ! 
 Husband and wife, perhaps. Who knows? I wonder if 
 fishes have kind feelings towards each other, and cultivate 
 tender affections ! " 
 
 He hurried down on deck, resolved to try his hand and 
 his luck in capturing one or both of these unsuspecting 
 strangers. 
 
 A fishing-line which had been unsuccessfully used the day 
 before was lying coiled up on the deck, with a stout hook, 
 and a flying-fish for bait attached. He said not a word to 
 indicate that large fish were around, but kept his own coun 
 sel, with a view to have all the sport to himself. He seized 
 upon the fishing-line, and before a man could say, " avast, 
 there ! " was at the jib-boom end, lowering his line into the 
 water, and bobbing it up and down, his face glowing with 
 excitement, and his eye sparkling with the pleasurable hope 
 of luring one of those noble fish to dart at the hook, and 
 finish his destructive career. 
 
 Nor was Mark mistaken in his calculation. The dolphins, 
 evidently, unfamiliar with the various devices resorted to by 
 man for their destruction, and seeing nothing particularly 
 alarming in the appearance of the ship, a huge wooden 
 monster, moving along steadily through the water, boldly 
 made a rush at the hook the moment they saw it from a dis 
 tance. One of them, the largest and probably the male, 
 being a little in advance, seized it with avidity, and the next 
 
A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 61 
 
 moment experienced a new and unpleasant sensation, the 
 hook being strongly fastened in his lower jaw. He made 
 frantic efforts to break loose from the cord, which, like a bond 
 of fate, connected him with the cabin-boy on the bowsprit. 
 He pulled and tugged, exerting all his strength he jerked 
 and floundered, and leaped out of the water ; but all would 
 not do. He was firmly hooked, and struggled against his 
 fate in vain. 
 
 Mark rejoiced in his success, and essayed to haul up his 
 huge captive, take him in on deck and exhibit him to his ship 
 mates as a proof of his adroitness and skill. But the dol 
 phin, weighing nearly a hundred pounds, was too large for 
 him to handle, and he was reluctantly compelled to call for 
 help. He created quite a sensation by crying out, " Hallo, 
 there on deck ! I have hooked a dolphin ! a big fellow ! and 
 cannot haul him up. Bring out the grainse, and be quick 
 about it, or we shall lose him." 
 
 Mr. Jarls, hearing the outcry, went forward, and compre 
 hended the case at once. He armed himself with the 
 grainse, a death-dealing instrument, with five barbed prongs, 
 and passed out on the bowsprit to the relief of Mark Row 
 land. 
 
 In the mean time Mark was witness to a scene which set 
 tled in his own mind the question with regard to the affections 
 and kind feelings of those bloodless and heartless animals, 
 supposed by many to be the very essence of stupidity and 
 selfishness, known as fishes. 
 
 The companion of the dolphin which was hooked, 
 undoubtedly a female, as soon as she became aware of 
 the real state of the case, and was convinced that her com 
 panion had got himself into trouble, and that his liberty and 
 life were in imminent danger, made the strongest possible 
 manifestations of grief and alarm. Regardless of danger 
 to herself, she swam quickly around and around the captive, 
 
62 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 as if to ascertain the precise nature of his trouble, while he 
 was struggling hard to break the line. Then she would 
 swim off to a distance of several .fathoms, and return with 
 wonderful velpcity, throwing herself against the line, as if 
 in the hope that what one could not accomplish might be 
 effected by their united efforts. Then she would snap at 
 the line with her teeth, but without doing it much injury, 
 and in various ways exhibited her affection for her com 
 panion, pity for his sufferings, and indignation against his 
 tormenters. 
 
 But this scene, which was watched by Mark with intense 
 interest, was soon brought to a close by the promptness of 
 Mr. Jarls. Having no faith in the sentimentality of fishes, 
 he smiled grimly when Mark, in the simplicity of his heart, 
 begged him to " spare them both, they were so fond of each 
 other ! " He poised the fatal weapon, and selecting not the 
 one already hooked, but his restless companion, planted the 
 prongs of the grainse deeply in her back. The fish was 
 soon transferred to the deck, and as soon as the grainse was 
 disengaged from the quivering muscles, it was handed back, 
 when he hurled it with the same success at the larger fish, 
 which was still struggling convulsively to regain his free 
 dom. 
 
 Mark's heart was sensibly touched by the scene he had 
 witnessed. He pitied the unfortunate dolphins, and almost 
 regretted that he had been instrumental in their capture. 
 But when he recalled to mind their well-known voracity and 
 their unsparing cruelty towards the flying-fish, which fish 
 again feasted on fishes and aquatic animals, smaller than 
 themselves, he became reconciled to the result, and partook 
 with a good appetite of the " chowder for all hands," of 
 which the dolphins formed the chief ingredient. 
 
 Mark had frequent opportunities afterwards to witness the 
 wonderful peculiarities and sagacity of fishes, especially in 
 
A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 63 
 
 the amicable relations which ever exist between the pilot- 
 fish and the shark, so unlike each other in size, habits, 
 and appearance. This strange tie of friendship between the 
 ravenous monster and the beautiful mottled little fish is not 
 a mere fable, as many believe, but a reality, and is described 
 more fully in the author's work, entitled " Jack in the Fore 
 castle." 
 
 Sailors, as a general thing, are honest men. Although 
 not backward sometimes in relating improbable incidents, 
 and giving them the guise of truth, they hold a liar in abhor 
 rence, and despise a thief. Indeed, it is seldom that a thief 
 is found on a ship's forecastle, an.d when found, the life he 
 leads is not a pleasant one. 
 
 On board the Saladin was a man named Peter, or Pedro, 
 who was no favorite with the officers or the rest of the crew. 
 He was a foreigner, of a dark, sallow complexion, and be 
 lieved to be a Portuguese. He was ignorant and supersti 
 tious, with principles and morals at low-water mark. He 
 was not much of a sailor, although he shipped for full 
 wages ; and being constitutionally lazy, would shirk labor 
 whenever, an opportunity offered. But being in Mr. Jarl's 
 watch, that vigilant officer, who was a great stickler for jus 
 tice in the abstract, managed to screw out of Peter a much 
 greater amount of work, and that of no very desirable char 
 acter, than the worthless fellow would willingly have per 
 formed. 
 
 One forenoon, while Jack Manwell was at the helm, and 
 Mr. Jarls was walking the quarter-deck, Jack, with a very 
 sober countenance, told the mate that, when he left Boston, 
 he had, in a secret drawer in his chest, twenty-five Spanish 
 dollars, a part of the wages received for his last voyage, 
 with which he meant to buy in Calcutta some kickshaws or 
 things, strange or beautiful, as presents to his friends in 
 Marblehead. " They were there, safe and sound, when I 
 
64 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 overhauled my chest last Sunday," said Jack, with a sigh, 
 " but now they are gone." 
 
 " Ah ha ! " said the mate. " A thief on board ! This is 
 a serious matter. We must catch the rascal, and expose 
 him. Do you suspect any one, Jack ? " 
 
 " I don't believe there's a man on board would do such a 
 dirty trick, unless it be that lazy, piratical-looking chap, 
 with the snakish eyes, that Peter." 
 
 "And what makes you suspect Peter, Jack?" said Mr. 
 Jarls, with a sort of half-laugh. 
 
 " I have no proof, whatever," said Jack ; " but he has had 
 chances enough to do it if he wanted to. Besides, I know 
 he's a liar, and a man who will lie will always steal." 
 
 " Admirable logic ! " exclaimed the mate ; " worthy of 
 Harry Stotle himself. Say no more ; keep quiet. If that 
 scamp of a Peter has stolen it, we'll get it again, never 
 fear." 
 
 Mr. Jarls, after a short consultation with Captain Somers, 
 went forward, and summoning the sailors around him, said, 
 "My men, Jack Manwell'has had twenty-five dollars stolen 
 from his chest within a few days. Now it is important to 
 find out who is the thief, as well as to 'recover the money. 
 No innocent man, of course, will object to having his chest 
 searched at once. So I wish you all to hand me the keys, 
 and the sooner this matter is settled, the better." 
 
 Every man whose chest was locked produced the key at 
 once. Peter's was not locked. " He, was not afraid," he 
 said, " to trust to the honesty of his shipmates." 
 
 " That's more than your shipmates can say of you," said 
 the mate. 
 
 Peter scowled, and looked marline-spikes. 
 
 Mr. Jarls searched every chest, and examined every berth, 
 but no money could be found. 
 
A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 65 
 
 " Now," said he, " I'll go another way to work, a way 
 that I never knew fail. Come aft, all of you ! " 
 
 The men followed the first officer aft to the capstan, which 
 he made them surround. He then told every man to place 
 the forefinger of his right hand on the edge of the capstan, 
 which was done without hesitation, Peter alone showing 
 symptoms of agitation, and looking as if he wished he was 
 anywhere else. 
 
 " Now/' said Mr. Jarls, in a tone befitting the serious 
 occasion, " I will raise this hammer aloft, and say, 'mene, 
 mene, telcel, upharsin,' and then bring it down with all my 
 force upon the capstan, and it will be sure to fall upon the 
 finger of the thief who stole the money, and smash it to 
 atoms. So look out, men ! " added he, raising the hammer ; 
 " mene, mene " 
 
 " Avast, there, Mr. Jarls ! " screamed the terrified Peter, 
 snatching his finger from the capstan. " I will confess all 
 without having my finger smashed. The devil tempted me, 
 and I stole the money." 
 
 "You did, did you?" exclaimed the mate, seizing him by 
 the throat. " I thought so, you outlandish scoundrel. What 
 did you do with the money? Bring it here, and lay it on the 
 .capstan, or overboard you go, in strict accordance with the 
 laws of Neptune." 
 
 The miserable being, convicted on his own confession of a 
 felonious crime, trembled like an aspen leaf ; and as soon as 
 Mr. Jarls released him from,his 'grasp, Peter stripped him 
 self of his outer garments, and after fumbling about his 
 loins, produced a canvas, belt which, on being ripped open, 
 was found to contain twenty-five dollars, and several other 
 small articles of value, which had mysteriously disappeared 
 from the chests in the forecastle. 
 
 The inquisition was at an end. The thief had been found, 
 and the money recovered. The men went forward in a body, 
 * 
 
66 MARX ROWLAND. 
 
 Peter hanging behind, looking exceedingly anxious ; for he 
 saw the indignant glances of his shipmates, and was by no 
 means sure that he should entirely escape the painful pun 
 ishment which he knew he deserved. 
 
 And Peter had reason for his doubts, for no sooner had 
 the men reached the forecastle than Sam Welkin said, 
 " What shall we do with this fellow, this thief? It will 
 never do to let him off so ! " 
 
 "By no means," said Nicholas Haxon. " If I had my* 
 way, I would keel-haul him. It would be a good lesson. 
 He would never steal afterwards." 
 
 " I believe you," said Ned Thrumbo. " But keel-hauling 
 is a barbarous punishment. It would be better to give him 
 a sea-toss at once. But there is a way by which we can 
 show him and each other the detestation in which we hold 
 the pitiful, sneaking, unsailor-like crime which he has been 
 guilty of., We must cobb him ! " 
 
 "That's it!" shouted the men, in chorus. "Ned, you 
 speak like an inspired grumpus or a second Jonah. We will 
 cobb him." 
 
 And in spite of Peter's cries and entreaties he was seized 
 forthwith, and tied firmly to the windlass-bitts, and com 
 pelled to undergo a species of corporal punishment which is 
 exceedingly painful while being administered, but which 
 leaves no disfiguring marks, and inflicts no permanent in 
 jury. In laying on the blows with the broad side of a 
 heavy hand-saw, every man and the cook, also, participated 
 in turn, so that, in case of a legal prosecution, no one could 
 testify to facts without criminating himself. The poor 
 wretch howled and screamed and writhed in agony. ' But 
 this had no effect in softening the hearts of his indignant 
 shipmates. He called for aid upon the captain and officers, 
 but they wisely left the deck when they saw preparations for 
 a righteous punishment going on, and, in the cabin, turning 
 
A THIEF IN THE FORECASTLE. 67 
 
 a deaf ear to his cries, let the men uninterruptedly go 
 through with their good work. 
 
 As the ship Saladin drew towards the equinoctial line, 
 light winds and calms prevailed. A long passage was 
 threatened ; and Captain Somers was anxious lest his fresk 
 water should not hold out, as the men, in that extremely hot 
 climate, not being put on allowance, drank an incredible 
 quantity of water, and unless the casks could be filled by 
 rains from the clouds, or some ^means devised to check the 
 indulgence of the thirsty propensities of the crew, it would 
 ere long be necessary to put them on very short allowance. 
 In this emergency an expedient was adopted, which was 
 attended with good results. 
 
 A can which held a large half pint, was placed in the fore- 
 top-mast cross-trees, and when a man wanted to drink he 
 was obliged to climb aloft, take possession of the tumbler, 
 come down on deck, fill it to the brim once, if he chose, drink 
 it off, and then carry the can back to the lofty height from 
 which it was taken. Mr. Jarls, who was quite a mathema 
 tician, after taking great pains in the calculation, declared 
 that the men when obliged to take so much trouble to get 
 water, did not drink more than two fifths as much as they 
 did when the water-cask was at hand, and they were allowed 
 to drink out of a quart pot ! 
 
 But it was not long necessary to continue this .expedient, 
 for one day in the latitude of about three degrees north, after 
 a dead calm for eight and forty hours, heavy clouds were 
 seen rising from every part of the horizon. Soon were seen 
 the flashes of the forked lightning, while the mutterings of 
 the distant thunder were heard. The dark clouds rapidly 
 gathered in the zenith and seemed to pour out cataracts of 
 fire, while the stunning claps of thunder, peal after peal, 
 sounded in the ears of the crew of the Saladin, like the awful 
 artillery of heaven ! 
 
68 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 And now the rain began to come down, not in large heavy 
 drops, but in sheets. It was a continuous stream instead of 
 a shower ; or if a shower, such an one as was never experi 
 enced excepting in the neighborhood of the equator. All 
 hands were called to "fill up the water-casks." The scup 
 pers were stopped with swabs, and the rain-water was soon 
 knee-deep on deck. Pails, pans, pots, and noggins, all were 
 put in requisition. The empty casks were soon filled, and 
 every vessel that would hold water also. Before the shower 
 was over, and it did not last an hour, the Saladin was far 
 better supplied with fresh water than when she left the wharf 
 in Boston ; and greatly to the gratification of the sailors the 
 half-pint can was taken down from the cross-trees. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ! ! 'V 
 
 AN UNTIMELY NAP. 
 
 THE ship Saladin, having been detained unusually long in 
 these low latitudes by calms, was forced a considerable way 
 out of her proper course by the strong current that contin 
 ually sets to the westward in that part of the Atlantic which 
 embraces a few degrees on each side of the equator, and 
 gives the original impulse to that remarkable current, which 
 pouring out of the Gulf of Mexico, and sweeping along the 
 coast of the United States, is known as the Gulf Stream. 
 Captain Somers was not aware of the strength of the cur 
 rent, for he had no chronometer, and had neglected to ascer 
 tain his longitude by lunar observations, and on the second 
 morning after the inundating thunder-shower, which came so 
 opportunely, soon after the sun rose above the horizon, he 
 was greatly astonished to hear the cry of" Land ho ! " from 
 the mast-head. 
 
 This land proved to be the little island of Ponedo, or St. 
 Paul, a barren, and of course uninhabited rock, rising to the 
 height of one hundred or one hundred and fifty feet out of the 
 sea, and situated about a degree north of the equator at a 
 long distance from other land, being nearly midway between 
 the continents of Africa and America. 
 
 The ship gradually drew towards the island, and the sea 
 being smooth, the weather pleasant, and the light wind hav 
 ing died away, Captain Somers was induced to send Mr. 
 
70 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 Smeaton, the second mate, ashore in the ship's yawl, with a 
 boat's crew, and a good supply of fishing-tackle, to procure 
 a stock of fresh fish and bird's eggs, as well as to explore 
 the island. Mark Rowland earnestly begged permission to 
 go in the boat, and the captain consented to his wish. 
 
 The boat shored off, and in a short time reached the shore, 
 which was hardly a mile off, in a south-western direction. 
 Mr. Smeaton found little difficulty in landing from a small 
 nook or cove in the western side of the island. And fine 
 amusement the sailors had in clambering over the cliffs, 
 picking up the eggs of sea-birds, frightening the birds them 
 selves by their boisterous greeting, and taking shell-fish of 
 various kinds from the rocks at the edge of the water.. 
 
 Vegetation was scarce on the island, for there was little or 
 no soil. A few scraggy bushes, and tufts of coarse grass 
 grew in some of the cavities in the rocks ; but the air was 
 alive with birds, the only inhabitants, which screamed and 
 scolded vociferously at being thus rudely disturbed, insulted, 
 and robbed ; and fish of different sizes and variegated colors, 
 abounded in the waters which broke on its rugged shores, 
 and kindly allowed themselves to be caught by the sailors 
 who stood on the rocks which hung over the water, and cast 
 in their lines, to which were appended cod-hooks baited with 
 tempting pieces of pork. 
 
 The calm continued, and there seemed no prospect of a 
 breeze. The surface of the ocean looked like a gigantic 
 mirror. Of course Mr. Smeaton saw no necessity for being 
 in a hurry to terminate the exploration and return to the 
 ship. He and the sailors enjoyed themselves for an hour 
 and a half, not aware of the lapse of time. They had a reg 
 ular frolic, sung, danced, and shouted, and procured and 
 placed in the boat a generous supply of fish and eggs of the 
 sea-fowl, to say nothing of crabs, crawfish as big as lobsters, 
 and Deriwinkles without number. 
 
AN UNTIMELY NAP. 71 
 
 The sailors, having such a glorious time, were desirous to 
 make the most of it, and all with the exception of Mark 
 Kowland slowly and reluctantly assembled near the boat 
 after Mr. Smeaton hapl more than once reminded them that 
 it was time to go on board ; and then their attention was 
 attracted to the manoeuvres of a large shark which had closely 
 approached the rocks, aware that something was going on 
 that might redound to hjs advantage. Perhaps he dreamed 
 of making a dinner off the leg of a sailor. 
 
 While they still lingered on the rocks, they were suddenly 
 awakened to a sense of their duty, by the sound of a gun ; 
 and Mr. Smeaton, on mounting the summit of a rock, whence 
 he could obtain a survey of the ocean, saw the Saladin with 
 her ensign flying, as a signal for the boat's crew to hasten on 
 board. The reason for this signal was also seen, for in the 
 east a dark squall was rapidly rising, and the flashes of light 
 ning were already visible, followed 'by low mutterings of 
 distant thunder. 
 
 Mr. Smeaton was greatly alarmed, for he well knew how 
 suddenly the squalls make their appearance in these lati 
 tudes, and how fiercely they sometimes blow, although the 
 tempest is usually short-lived. He upbraided himself for not 
 keeping a more vigilant lookout, and ordered the men into 
 the boat immediately. His orders were promptly obeyed, 
 for the sailors had heard the signal-gun, and were anxious 
 only to return to the ship. They scrambled into the boat in 
 a hurry, seized the oars, shoved off, and were leaving the 
 island, when Mr. Smeaton, to his great consternation, ascer 
 tained that the cabin-boy, Mark Rowland, was not among 
 them. He had been entirely forgotten in the bustle of de 
 parture. Where was he ? 
 
 The men were ordered to " back water, forthwith." Mr. 
 Smeaton landed again, and with three of the sailors pro 
 ceeded in search of the missing cabin-boy. They shouted 
 
72 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 his name repeatedly, but the shrill screams of the sea-gulls, 
 were their only answer. They clambered over the craggy 
 rocks, traversed the island, and examined the cavities and 
 chasms, but no trace of Mark Rowland could be found. He 
 had strangely disappeared, how, they knew not, but finally 
 came to the melancholy conclusion that while venturing 
 along the verge of same overhanging cliff, he had fallen down 
 , the precipice into the deep waters at its base, and was 
 drowned. 
 
 While Mr. Smeaton and the boat's crew were speculating 
 upon the mysterious fate of their young companion, but 
 without relinquishing their search among the rocks, another 
 gun from the ship attracted their attention, and reminded 
 them of other duties. They all felt that, notwithstanding 
 their reluctance to quit the island until every nook and 
 cranny had been thoroughly searched, hopeless as such a 
 task appeared to be, they must not tarry longer, but hasten 
 on board the ship, as the squall was coming up with giant 
 strides, and presenting a threatening aspect. They knew 
 that if they lost time, and neglected to ply their oars lustily 
 to get on board before the tempest struck the ship, the 
 chances were decidedly against their ever treading the decks 
 of the Saladin. They therefore reluctantly, abandoned the 
 poor cabin-boy to his fate, and making strenuous efforts, 
 succeeded in getting alongside just before the squall, bear 
 ing with it sheets of rain and mist and furious gusts of 
 wind, struck the ship with a mighty force, throwing her over 
 nearly on her beam-ends. 
 
 There was no time for asking questions or relating occur 
 rences. Every man was obliged to take hold and work with 
 a will, and for a time the fate of Mark Rowland remained 
 untold. Before the boat could be hoisted to the quarter- 
 davits, the storm was upon them in all its fury. The wind 
 blew a hurricane for a time, threatening to tear the canvas 
 from the bolt-ropes. The rain fell in torrents, and it was 
 
AN UNTIMELY NAP. 73 
 
 found necessary to keep the ship off the wind, and let her 
 scud before the tempest. 
 
 Long before the sun had sunk beneath the horizon the 
 gale had spent its fury, the dark clouds had dispersed, and 
 the Saladin was running merrily along to the southward, 
 under the influence of a fine breeze from the eastward, at 
 the rate of seven or eight knots. Yet one of that ship's 
 company, who in the morning was with them, joyous and 
 happy, was missing. Mark Rowland, the cabin-boy, whose 
 courage, energy, and amiable disposition had made him be 
 loved by every inmate of the cabin or forecastle, was no 
 longer on board, and the little islet of Ponedo was no longer 
 visible in the horizon. 
 
 When the misfortune which had happened to Mark was 
 made known by Mr. Smeaton, a gloom was spread over the 
 whole ship's company. From the circumstances as detailed 
 it was clear, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Mark was 
 no longer in the land of the living. His fate was deeply 
 regretted by Captain Somers, as the interesting cabin-boy 
 was commended to his particular care by Mr. Fortesque, the 
 owner of the ship. The captain severely rebuked Mr. 
 Smeaton for lingering so long on the island, and neglect 
 ing to look closely after the men under his charge. He de 
 posed him from his situation as second officer, and made him 
 change his residence from the cabin to the forecastle. 
 
 And where was Mark while these busy scenes were en 
 acted on board the Saladin ? He had exulted in the pros 
 pect of going on shore, landing on the little island of St. 
 Paul, after having been confined to a ship for several weeks. 
 On reaching the island, and stepping out of the boat on the 
 rock, he was almost beside himself with joy. He shook off 
 the exuberance of his animal spirits by rambling about, and 
 taking the lead in climbing cliffs and precipices, shouting 
 and frolicking, and seeking after novelties, until an hour 
 
74 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 passed away, and he became fatigued with such violent exer 
 cise, with the sun pouring its vertical rays upon his head. 
 
 After a while he reached the extreme southern point of 
 the islet, and while examining a wild-looking cavity, discov 
 ered the entrance to a grotto, scooped out of the solid rock 
 by the action of the waves, which for ages had been beating 
 and clashing, sometimes with tremendous force, against the 
 island of Ponedo. He passed through the narrow aperture, 
 and entered the cavern. He found the air cool and refresh 
 ing, for there the rays of the sun had never penetrated. He 
 seated himself on the fragment of a rock, and leaned back 
 lazily against the wall of the cave, intending to rest for a 
 few minutes, and then make his way back to the boat. But 
 unfortunately he was overtaken by sleep, the kind agent 
 provided by a bountiful Creator to relieve the fatigues and 
 renovate the physical condition of man, and which some 
 times makes us forgetful of our interests and recreant to our 
 duties. 
 
 Mark Rowland slept in this secluded nook long and 
 soundly, lulled by the murmuring of the waves as they 
 broke on the iron-bound shore. He was at last awakened 
 by a stunning peal of thunder, which reverberated from the 
 walls of the cavern. He sprang to his feet, greatly alarmed, 
 and for a few moments was unconscious of his situation* 
 He rushed to the mouth of the grotto, and listened with dis 
 may to the raging of the wind and the waves, and the pat 
 tering of the heavy raindrops against the rocks. The stern 
 reality of his situation then burst upon him, and he realized 
 the terrible evil that had befallen him. In defiance of the 
 tempest, which was then at its height, he left the grotto, and 
 madly hastened, climbing over the rocks in his way, and 
 leaping over dangerous chasms, towards that part of the 
 island on which he had landed in the morning, and where he 
 
AN UNTIMELY NAP. 75 
 
 hoped to find the boat. But to his great embarrassment and 
 grief, the boat was no longer there. 
 
 Mark looked around upon the rocks, but not a human 
 being was to be seen. He looked towards the ocean for the 
 Saladin, but the ship shrouded in the mist and rain was no 
 longer visible. He felt now that he was deserted ; that he 
 was left on that barren rock in the midst of the ocean, to 
 exist, perhaps, a few days in dreadful solitude, and then die 
 of starvation a dreadful death ! And there, upon a beet- 
 ling crag which overhung the foaming breakers, the poor 
 sailor-boy sat, regardless of the storm which raged around 
 him. And there he long remained, looking out upon the 
 vast watery plain before him, seeking but in vain to pierce 
 the thick veil which concealed the ship from his view. 
 
 At length the storm ceased, the clouds rolled away. The 
 rays of the setting sun gilded the cliffs and peaks above 
 him, and the whole extended horizon appeared lilte a far-off 
 circular line drawn around the island. He then climbed the 
 highest pinnacle of the rocks, and gazed intently in every 
 direction. His forebodings had not deceived him. The ship 
 Saladin had sailed away on her voyage, and Mark Rowland 
 was left on the island of St. Paul. 
 
 This was a fearful shock to his feelings. The sudden 
 change in his condition for a time bereft him of all his for 
 titude, and he was overwhelmed with grief. He thought of 
 his home, of his mother, his brother and sister, those dear 
 ones whom he had left to become a sailor, with the hope and 
 determination to improve their condition, and render their 
 home more comfortable and happy. He thought of the ship, 
 of the kind and indulgent captain, and the friendly and 
 jovial crew, with whom he had been pleasantly associated 
 only a few hours before. And then the desolation of his 
 situation recurred to him, arrayed in the darkest colors. He 
 was alone on the island, without provisions or resources of 
 
76 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 any description, abandoned by his shipmates, undoubtedly, 
 under the mistaken impression a very natural one under 
 the circumstances that some fatal accident had befallen 
 him. Bitterly he reproached himself, and rued his folly in 
 lingering in the cavern, and subjecting himself to such ter 
 rible consequences. He knew that the island was but a 
 cluster of barren rocks in the midst of the wide Atlantic, 
 and but rarely seen ; and his imagination continued to pic 
 ture, in fearful distinctness, a miserable, lingering death. 
 
 As the shades of evening advanced, and they come on 
 rapidly after sunset in those latitudes, Mark, in a despair 
 ing mood, threw himself in a hollow among the rocks, but 
 he could not sleep. For a long time he lay pondering on 
 his unhappy condition, and indulging gloomy conjectures 
 respecting his future fate. Then he arose and looked out 
 upon the wide-spread ocean, upon which darkness, like a 
 funeral pall, seemed to rest. Then he gazed upon the 
 heavens above, again obscured with clouds, hardly a star 
 deigning to send forth its bright beams to cheer his despond 
 ing heart. All, everything, seemed to remind him the more 
 forcibly of his solitude, destitution, and helplessness. 
 
 But now, as he stood, as it were, on the very verge of 
 despair, his guardian angel brought to view In bright and 
 living characters, the religious precepts which a good and 
 pious mother had early sought to inculcate on his mind. He 
 dropped on his knees and prayed to God for support and 
 assistance in that dark hour of peril and tribulation. His 
 mind became comparatively calm. He soon fell asleep, and 
 slept soundly several hours. 
 
 And while he slept, a change came over his spirits, and 
 he was blessed with pleasant dreams. He dreamed that 
 after having passed through a whole host of wild adventures, 
 he was suddenly transported by some magic influence to his 
 home in the little village of Glenmaple. His mother, with 
 
AN UNTIMELY NAP. 77 
 
 Albert and Ellen, came forth to meet him, and greeted him 
 with embraces and kisses. They led him into their dwell 
 ing, no longer an humble one, dedicated to poverty, but a 
 beautiful, light, and airy edifice, in the centre of a large- 
 garden, teeming with fruits and flowers. 
 
 To his great surprise and delight, they ushered him into a 
 spacious hall, where the furniture was gay and elegant, and 
 a volume of light, dazzling with its brilliancy, burst upon 
 his vision from a countless number of golden lamps, sus 
 pended from the ceiling. 
 
 And while he looked upon the scene, bewildered and over 
 joyed, his mother threw open the foMing-doors at the end 
 of the apartment, and a whole bevy of children rushed in, 
 with loud and uproarious shouts of welcome, and surrounded 
 him, halloing and screaming in his very ears their mad de 
 light at his safe return, until he became stunned and stupi- 
 fied with the noise, and begged them to have mercy and? 
 desist, but in vain. The lamps burned more painfully bril 
 liant, and the shouts of triumph and welcome became more 
 and more loud, shrill, and discordant, until he awoke and 
 found to his great disappointment that the whole scene, 
 which was stamped on his mind like a beautiful reality, was 
 only a dream ! 
 
 The brilliant light which flashed upon *his eyes was no 
 other than the dazzling rays of the sun, which, as that lu 
 minary was now high in the heavens, streamed on his face 
 and awoke him, and the loud and uproarious shouts of wel 
 come from children were changed into the screams of a 
 countless number of sea-birds, which, flying about him, and 
 manifesting their surprise ancj anger at his presence, soon 
 brought him to his senses. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes and crawled out of the cavity in which 
 he had ensconced himself, and looked around. Sleep had 
 
78 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 restored his exhausted faculties ; his dream had brought 
 comfort, and he no longer indulged in desponding forebod 
 ings. Hope, like a benignant angel, came to his assistance, 
 and he resolved to lose no time in taking a full survey of the 
 place on which he had so unexpectedly become a resident, 
 and learn something of its resources and means of sustaining 
 life. 
 
 He soon saw enough to convince him that, although his 
 condition was by no means a pleasant one, it was not alto 
 gether hopeless. He was alone, it was true. This was a 
 great misfortune. There was no one to converse with, to 
 share in his fears, to jsympathize in his hopes, or advise him 
 in regard to his actions. He must rely altogether on him 
 self, and devise means of procuring subsistence on this bar 
 ren rock, and make himself as comfortable as circumstances 
 would permit, until some passing vessel should discover his 
 forlorn condition and take him off. 
 
 He now recalled to mind that he had heard Captain 
 Somers say that the island of St. Paul was seldom fallen 
 in with by ships on the passage to India, or on their return 
 from ports beyond the Cape of Good Hope, and he sighed 
 as he thought that months, perhaps years, might elapse, be 
 fore any vessel would pass the island near enough to see his 
 signals, and take him on board. And it became an impor 
 tant question how in the meantime he should find means of 
 subsistence? What did the island produce to satisfy his 
 hunger and contribute to his comfort? 
 
 Mark walked across the island, and looked around him on . 
 every side ; but he saw nothing belonging to the vegetable 
 kingdom which was calculated to cheer his spirits and 
 strengthen his hopes. No fruits nor edible roots of any de 
 scription were to be found. There were birds, however, of 
 the web-footed tribe, in abundance. He could easily cap- 
 
AN UNTIMELY NAP. 79 
 
 y 
 
 ture them if he wished, for they were unaccustomed to the 
 sight of man, and although much disturbed and angry at his 
 presence, were hardly disposed to get out of his way. The 
 eggs of these sea-birds, deposited in rude nests, he found in 
 great profusion among the rocks. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HERMIT LIFE. 
 
 WHILE carefully examining the rocks near the spot where 
 the boat's crew had landed the day before, Mark Rowland 
 found a couple of fishing-lines, with the hooks attached, that 
 had been forgotten by Mr. Smeaton in the hurry of his de 
 parture. He rejoiced at this, for he knew that with their 
 aid he would he able to catch fish whenever he took a fancy 
 for such a luxury. He thus ascertained beyond a doubt that 
 he could procure on the island, with hardly any trouble, an 
 abundant supply of eggs, fish, and fowl. But a shade came 
 over his mind when he reflected that, unfortunately, he had 
 no fire by which to cook them. 
 
 He had heard that the savages in America procured fire 
 by rubbing together two pieces of dry wood. There were a 
 few sticks and branches of trees and pieces of boards and 
 small spars on the eastern shore of the island, that had been 
 driven high up among the rocks by the action of the winds 
 and the waves. He selected a couple of pieces of wood 
 which he thought would answer his purpose, and rubbed 
 them together for a long time. But although he succeeded 
 in producing by the friction a very sensible heat, he failed 
 to obtain fire, or even to raise a smoke. He often repeated 
 the experiment, but always with a similar unsatisfactory 
 result. It should be mentioned, however, that the wood 
 which he was obliged to use had been, soaking in salt water 
 for weeks or months before it was thrown on the rocks. 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 81 
 
 Otherwise it is quite probable he would have succeeded in 
 obtaining all the comforts and conveniences which a fire 
 would have furnished, and which are many, even in a trop 
 ical climate. 
 
 Mark found, greatly to his satisfaction, abundance of 
 fresh water in the hollows of the rocks, which had fallen in 
 the late rains, and fearing that it might evaporate, he pru 
 dently took measures immediately to prevent such a result 
 by covering these pools with bushes and boards, and thus 
 screening them, so far as it was in his power, from the trojf- 
 ical heat. And as rain fell in abundance at brief intervals 
 during his stay on the island, he never wanted for pure fresh 
 water a blessing indeed ! for which he was devoutly 
 thankful. 
 
 The second day that Mark passed on the island, although 
 he longed for a plentiful meal, he partook of no food except 
 ing some bird's eggs, which he swallowed raw, from neces 
 sity rather than choice, and solaced his thirst with water. 
 But on the following day, he was much gratified to find 
 clinging to the rocks, and in the little basins filled with sea- 
 water, shell-fish of various kinds, and among them a species 
 resembling the oyster, which he tasted and found delicious. 
 Here at once he became possessed of an almost inexhausti 
 ble supply of nutritious food, and was relieved of all fears 
 of immediate starvation. 
 
 He found a cavity in the rocks, overhung by a frowning 
 cliff. He took possession of it, and with little trouble con 
 verted it into an eligible sleeping-chamber. By covering 
 the bottom with coarse grass and dried gulf-weed, which he 
 could procure in any quantity, he made a soft and luxurious 
 bed, on which he threw himself whenever he sought repose, 
 by night or by day, and buried his cares, his griefs, and his 
 hopes, in sleep. 
 
 On a huge cliff which jutted into the ocean on the north- 
 
82 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 ern part of the island, he contrived to erect the tallest pole 
 or spar which he could find, as a flag-staff^ on the top of 
 which, by means of one of his fishing-lines, he could at any 
 moment display, as a signal of distress, the thin nankeen 
 jacket which he fortunately wore when he left the ship with 
 a light and joyous heart, exulting in the prospect of explor 
 ing a desert island. 
 
 At the foot of this flag-staff, from which he could survey 
 the whole line of the horizon, he often passed his evening 
 hours, refreshed by the cool breezes, after suffering from the 
 stifling heat of the day ; and every morning before the rising 
 of the sun he sought this cliff, and threw around a searching 
 gaze, hoping to see some friendly vessel which would take 
 him from his solitary abode and return him to his friends. 
 
 When Mark had been about a week the sole human inhab 
 itant of the island of St. Paul he was surprised one morning 
 on visiting a low point near the water's edge, to find that 
 the salt water which had filled some of the hollows of the 
 rocks, had evaporated, owing to the extreme heat of the sun 
 for several days, and left crystals of salt. He tasted it and 
 satisfied himself that there was no 1 mistake in the matter. It 
 was genuine salt, and he now recollected to have heard that 
 a large portion of the salt used was made by the evapora 
 tion of salt water. He was delighted at this discovery, for 
 he had deeply felt the want of this condiment, which is so 
 necessary in the preparation and preservation of food. He 
 went busily to work, and collected a good supply, lest he 
 might not meet with such another opportunity, and deposited 
 it in a nook where it would not be exposed to the action of 
 the rains. 
 
 Before he made this discovery, he had at various times 
 caught fish with the lines left behind by the sailors ; but he 
 found it an exceedingly difficult matter to eat them raw, 
 without salt or seasoning of any description. He now again 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 83 
 
 caught some fish, split them open, and sprinkled them with 
 salt as he had seen his mother do with the pickerel he some 
 times caught in Rhadamanthus pond. He then placed them 
 in the sun, which dried them, when they could be kept for' 
 months, and proved a very acceptable species of food. Thus 
 Mark found, that by a little skill, address, and calculation, 
 he was in little danger of being a great sufferer from hunger 
 or thirst, for a long while to come. 
 
 The kinds of food were not such as he had been accus 
 tomed to, or such as he would have chosen if a variety had 
 been set before him, and they would have been wonderfully 
 improved if they had gone through the process of cooking. 
 But he had no choice, and devoured with a good appetite 
 such viands as by enterprise and ingenuity he was able to 
 procure. What he most felt the need of was bread, or some 
 substitute, as potatoes ; but he knew that nothing of the 
 kind could be obtained, and, like a true philosopher, avoid 
 ed pining after luxuries, and made up his mind to make the 
 best of his condition without them. 
 
 Mark had been on the island about a month, when one 
 day he was busily engaged in pulling up some coarse grass, 
 which was rooted in the soil of bird-lime or guano that 
 abounded in some of the cavities. With this grass he had 
 been for some days exerting all his ingenuity in an attempt 
 to manufacture an apology for a hat. On raising his head 
 and looking abroad, his joy and astonishment may be con 
 ceived, when he saw a vessel, a large brig, but a few miles 
 off, standing to the southward, under a press of sail, urged 
 on her way by a pleasant breeze from the eastward. 
 
 His heart throbbed with excitement. His exile was sure 
 ly ended I He would soon be among his fellow-creaturts 
 once more, gay and happy ! He hastened to the flag-staff on 
 the cliff and hoisted his jacket, and fearing that it might not 
 
84 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 be large enough to be distinctly seen at a distance, stripped 
 himself of his shirt, in order to magnify his signal. 
 
 But the grief and disappointment of Mark may be imag 
 ined, when the brig after having reached the position near 
 est to the island in passing, continued on her course and 
 made no sign ! Mark's signal was disregarded, and, being 
 but a few feet above the rock, was in all probability unseen ; 
 for it is difficult to suppose that any man could see a signal 
 of distress flying from a desert island, without heaving-to at 
 once, and daring all risks in dispatching a boat to learn its 
 meaning. 
 
 A few weeks after this incident, while Mark was engaged 
 in searching among the rocks on the sea-shore for a species 
 of shell-fish which he found by experience to be delicious 
 food, he saw in a little hollow, just out of reach of the 
 breakers, what appeared to be a piece of leather, half buried 
 beneath the gravel. Surprised at such an unwonted sight, 
 he took hold of it in order to ascertain its character and 
 condition. He pulled and tugged with all his force to get it 
 from the place where it had been thrown by chance, cr hid 
 den designedly, and, to his great astonishment, he drew 
 forth a bag, containing something not bulky, but- extremely 
 heavy. The string which confined the mouth of the bag was 
 decayed, and fell apart while he was extricating the bag 
 froin the gravel, and his exultation and joy knew no bounds 
 when he found that the leathern bag was filled with golden 
 coins ! He had discovered a treasure on the desert island. 
 
 But his exultation at the sight of gold was not of long du 
 ration. His reason soon convinced him that these golden 
 coins were of no use to him in his present condition. And 
 as he saw no immediate prospect of leaving the island, and 
 longed for a change of food, he would gladly have exchanged 
 the whole pile of doubloons for a few loaves of bread, or a 
 dozen of baked potatoes. 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 85 
 
 How the bag of money, which was as heavy as he could 
 conveniently carry, became deposited in that desolate spot, 
 was a problem that never was solved. Pie supposed it must 
 have belonged to some unfortunate men who were cast away 
 on the island with their treasure, and died of grief and hun 
 ger. And he shuddered as he thought that their unhappy 
 fate might eventually be his own. His conjectures were 
 confirmed on discovering in a cavity among the rocks, in the 
 neighborhood of the spot where he found the gold, some 
 bones, bleached by the sun and rain, which he felt assured 
 were a part of a human skeleton. This frightful discovery 
 put a stop to further investigations in that quarter of the 
 island. 
 
 One moonlight evening Mark climbed to the summit of 
 the cliff to enjoy the sea-breeze, at the close of a very sultry 
 day, as he was wont to do. He seated himself on a rock, 
 his back resting against the flag-staff, and looked abroad 
 upon the ocean. His spirits were unusually depressed,, for 
 he was sick of solitude, and had been thinking of his home. 
 For more than two hours he remained watching the rippling 
 of the waves and the dancing of the moonbeams. Mark did 
 not altogether despond, but he was beginning to grow impa 
 tient at his long stay on the island. It was strongly im 
 pressed on his mind that it would not be his fate to be left 
 there to die miserably, alone, and by inches ; but that, 
 sooner or later, he would be rescued by some passing ship. 
 
 And this confidence in his future good fortune, this un 
 shaken belief that "better days were coming," did noble 
 service in sustaining his health amid the deprivations and 
 troubles which surrounded him, and which would have crushed 
 to the earth never to rise again, the spirits and frame of one 
 who cherished no hope, but abandoned himself to despair. 
 And Mark was right. He reasoned according to the dictates 
 of sound philosophy. We can hardly conceive of a situation 
 8 
 
86 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 in life so deplorable as to be altogether hopeless, where by 
 the energetic exercise of the gifts we have received from our 
 Creator, there is no .possibility of escaping an impending 
 danger, or improving our condition, however depressed or 
 however perilous. 
 
 While Mark was gazing vacantly on the broad sheet spread 
 out before him, and listening to the hoarse and irregular 
 sound of the breakers as they dashed against the rocks, and 
 recalling the past, sighing over the present, and speculating 
 on the future, he was roused from his reveries by the sight 
 of a white speck on the distant horizon, the line of which 
 in the clear, cloudless night was distinctly defined. The 
 moon by this time was nearly on the meridian. Could this 
 white speck be the moon's pure rays reflected from the sail& 
 of a ship ? It must be so ; there could be no other mode of 
 explaining the unusual phenomenon. 
 
 Mark was deeply agitated ; the dim appearance of a ves 
 sel afar off, filled his mind with associations and hopes of the 
 most buoyant tendency. A vessel was in sight, bearing on 
 its decks human beings. His solitude, which was becoming 
 unbearable, seemed already relieved of half its weight. 
 
 The speck became rapidly enlarged. It was soon manifest 
 that the vessel, with a large spread of canvas, was approach 
 ing under a fine breeze, and steering a straight course for the 
 island. He kept his eye on that vessel, and with intense 
 interest watched her proceedings. And now he. longed for 
 the means of making a fire on the rock, a beacon-light to 
 warn mariners of their danger, and notify them that a 
 wretched being was chained to that desolate spot, and 
 doomed to perish miserably, unless some assistance was 
 speedily tendered. 
 
 As the vessel drew near, her course continued unchanged. 
 She steered directly for the island, being apparently close- 
 hauled on the wind. The moon shone out with unusual 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 87 
 
 splendor, and he could see the sails, and even the hull of a 
 large ship, as plainly as if it were midday. 
 
 Mark's joy was changed to anxiety for the fate of that 
 vessel. Were those on board aware that they were near the 
 land ? Had they no suspicion of danger ? Where was the 
 lookout ? Where the officer of the deck ? Were they all 
 wrapped in sleep, and the ship left to its own guidance and 
 that of a sleepy helmsman ? 
 
 The ship came onward, plunging through the water. He 
 could see the snow-white foam beneath her bows. But not a 
 man was visible on deck. In a few minutes, unl'ess her 
 course was altered, that noble vessel would be wrecked on 
 the rocks which lined that part of the island of St. Paul. 
 
 At that moment the selfish idea flitted across his mind, 
 that if the ship struck the rocks and went to pieces, his own 
 condition in all likelihood would be greatly improved. He 
 would thus gain some companions ; perhaps food, fire, and 
 clothing ; also, perhaps, boats, materials for a tent, and many 
 comforts and necessaries, the absence of which had caused 
 him much inconvenience and suffering : and also ultimately 
 the means of leaving the island and returning to his native 
 land. 
 
 But the mind of Mark Rowland was too noble to harbor 
 such selfish reflections. They were dismissed almost before 
 they attained a definite shape. He felt instinctively that 
 they were wrong ; that it was his duty a duty from 
 which he could not shrink without feeling himself a craven 
 and a criminal to exert every means in his power to 
 warn the careless crew of that ship of their danger, that 
 they might steer 'clear of the rocks and proceed on their voy 
 age in safety. 
 
 Acting upon this generous impulse, as soon as the ship, 
 dashing onward towards destruction, drew near enough to 
 the rock to make it likely that his voice could be heard, he 
 
88 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 began to hail in a loud and shrill voice, " Ship ahoy ! ship 
 ahoy ! Hard-up your helm, or you will be ashore ! Port ! 
 Hard-a-port ! Ship ahoy-oy-oy ! Hard-a-port your helm ! " 
 
 The warning voice of Mark Rowland was heard, probably, 
 by the helmsman, nodding at his post ; and the sleepy crew 
 and officers were aroused. There was a great commotion on 
 deck, and a running to and fro of the men. Orders were 
 given and repeated, and the shouting and swearing were on 
 a large scale. In the midst of the tumult, the helm was un 
 doubtedly changed, for the ship fell off from the wind, just 
 grazed the rocks, and passing so near that Mark could have 
 tossed a pebble on board, rapidly proceeded on her course. 
 The loud and imploring entreaties of Mark that a boat might 
 be sent ashore to take him off, were probably not heard in 
 the confusion, or if heard were unheeded, for the ship's way 
 continued unchecked and she soon disappeared in the south 
 west. 
 
 Mark's disappointment was great. He had heard the 
 voices of his fellow-men, and he yearned to be with them 
 again. It was long that night before he closed his eyes- in 
 sleep ; and the next morning, when he awoke, the scene so 
 exciting, so unsatisfactory, and so short-lived, seemed like a 
 feverish dream. 
 
 Days, weeks, and months passed away, how many, Mark 
 knew not, for he kept no record of time. Although he was 
 untiring in keeping a vigilant lookout, only one vessel was 
 seen by him during this long, tedious period. This was a 
 ship from the southward, with a fair wind and plenty of it, 
 which went dashing along, homeward bound, thought Mark, 
 with royals, skysails and studding-sails set ; and passing 
 within a couple of leagues, took no notice of the signal which 
 Mark displayed from the summit of the cliff. 
 
 And now Mark experienced a trouble which he had not 
 calculated upon. His diet, although not unpalatable, was 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 89 
 
 not favorable to health. His strength failed, his activity 
 was diminished, and his frame became emaciated ; and it is 
 no wonder that, notwithstanding his constitutional courage 
 and fortitude, he became at times dejected and unhappy. 
 He thought that if he had one companion, whatever might 
 be his race, color, age, habits, or disposition, with whom he 
 could converse and advise and sympathize, it would relieve 
 the monotony of his condition and contribute to his happi 
 ness. He envied Robinson Crusoe the companionship of 
 Friday, and proved in his own case the truth of the old 
 proverb, "misery loves company." 
 
 He finally hit upon an expedient to procure some com 
 panions, some living creatures to whom he could become 
 attached, and which would love him in return. He tamed a 
 couple of young sea-gulls, which he named Albert and Ellen, 
 the names of his brother and sister. After a large expendi 
 ture of patience and perseverance, he succeeded in educating 
 them according to his wishes. They would hop around him, 
 accompany him in his excursions, enjoy his caresses, and 
 perch on his shoulders. He passed some hours every day in 
 fondling and playing with his pets. 
 
 Mark found considerable exercise in scrambling about 
 among, the rocks ; but as he could not always be doing this 
 or playing with his sea-gulls, which proved to be more stu 
 pid than intelligent, he felt the need of some 'pleasant occu 
 pation or amusement to divert his mind from the contempla 
 tion of his troubles. He was fond of swimming, and the 
 smooth sea under the lee of the islet often tempted him to 
 plunge in and enjoy the grateful exercise at the close of a 
 sultry day, or in the morning, while the sun was emerging 
 from his watery bed. 
 
 But he denied himself this indulgence, for fear of meeting 
 some " companions of the bath," of whom he had a whole 
 some dread. More than once he had seen enough to con- 
 
 8* 
 
90 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 vince him that the waters which washed the shores of St. 
 Paul were inhabited by sharks of uncommon size and fero 
 city. He knew, from experience, that the monsters took a 
 natural liking to him, and would gladly welcome him to their 
 native element, and give him painful but decided proofs of 
 their attachment to his person. But their affection was not 
 reciprocated, and Mark wisely determined to give them a 
 wide berth as long as it was in his power. 
 
 But there was a pool in the south side_of the island, some 
 eight or ten fathoms in diameter, and of unknown depth, 
 which communicated with the ocean by means of a short 
 qanal or chasm in the rock, where the water was not more 
 than six or eight feet deep. He longed to bathe in this pool 
 when he first examined it, but put a curb on his longings 
 when he saw that a large shark, a shovel-nosed shark, had 
 possession ; and he felt no disposition to dispute the man- 
 eating rascal's title to the sovereignty. Several times after 
 wards he saw one or more of these grim-looking gentlemen, 
 swimming slowly about near the surface, and for a time he 
 left them to the undisputed enjoyment of all the pleasures 
 of the pool. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mark thought it hard that he should thus 
 be deprived of the pleasure of bathing in that hot climate, 
 and after a while devised a plan to keep out the sharks, and 
 monopolize the pool. Fragments of rock abounded in that 
 part of 'the island, and he went vigorously at work to fill the 
 canal with rocks of large size, disposed in such a way that, 
 without preventing the flow of water, they would serve as an 
 effectual barrier to the merciless tyrants. 
 
 This was a laborious task, and occupied a large portion of 
 his time for two or three weeks. But he finally completed 
 the work, greatly to his 'own satisfaction, and exulted in hav 
 ing ,ousted the original possessors of the pool, and converted 
 it into a bathing-place for his own especial use. Hardly a 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 91 
 
 day passed that he did not spend an hour at least in the 
 water, swimming and diving and practising other submarine 
 feats, until he became almost amphibious. 
 
 One day as Mark was fishing for a species of large red 
 fish, which as an article of food he preferred to any of the 
 finny tribe, he felt a decided bite. He pulled, but could not 
 start the fish! Soon the fish Bulled in his turn, and was very 
 near dragging Mark from the shelving crag into the water. 
 He took a turn with his line around the corner of a rock, 
 soon after which the fish rose to the surface, and to the great 
 disgust of our youthful fisherman, proved to be a shark. 
 As soon as he came in sight, he made a short but decisive 
 struggle, broke the fishing-gear, and swam leisurely awaj r , 
 feloniously carrying off the two hooks and a couple of fath 
 oms of line, and, as it appeared to Mark, shaking his tail in 
 derision. 
 
 Mark was justly indignant at such atrocious conduct, and 
 resolved from that moment to make war, and war to the 
 knife, upon that man-tormenting and man-eating race, which 
 seemed to be always interfering with his crfmfort or threat 
 ening his life. He determined henceforth to make it a pleas 
 ure, a recreation, a business, to annoy, and, if possible, de 
 stroy, every shark which dared approach the rocks that lined 
 the island of St. Paul. 
 
 This was a lucky idea, so far as he was concerned, although 
 it was neither pleasant nor profitable to the sharks. It fur 
 nished him with occupation and amusement, and prevented 
 him from dwelling on his misfortunes, and lamenting his 
 protracted stay on that desert island. He really enjoyed 
 the sport, as he called it,' and followed it up with the energy 
 which was a distinguishing trait in his character. 
 
 He would tie to the end of his fishing-line a tempting mor 
 sel, in the shape of a sea-fowl stripped of its feathers and 
 split open, and throw it as far from the rocks as his strength 
 
92 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 would allow, and then slowly draw it towards him. In this 
 way, if there were any sharks in the vicinity, he would toll 
 them around, and lure them in closely under the rocks. 
 Then, tajting advantage of his commanding position, he 
 would punch them with a heavy pole, sharpened at one end, 
 which made them exceedingly uncomfortable and angry, or 
 throw down upon their heads huge pieces of rock, as heavy 
 as he could lift, which would seriously unsettle their under 
 standings, and, in some cases, when the work was skilfully 
 done, destroy life. 
 
 On one occasion he narrowly escaped becoming a victim 
 to his destructive zeal. He had succeeded, after having for 
 hours exerted all his skill, in enticing within reach of his 
 missiles, a shark of the largest size, and secretly determined 
 to punish him severely for the trouble he had caused him. 
 For this purpose he selected a large piece of angular rock, 
 and raised it as high as he could reach, directly over his un 
 suspecting foe,. and then using the warning language which 
 he had often heard on shipboard, he called out, " Stand from 
 under ! " and brought down the heavy missile, propelling it 
 with all his force upon the monster's head. 
 
 Unfortunately, Mark was so much interested in his attempt 
 to destroy the shark, that he neglected to take care of him 
 self. As the stone left his hands, his foot slipped, he lost 
 his balance, and, following the stone, found himself, to his 
 surprise and terror, the next moment sitting astride on the 
 back of the shark. The animal, frightened at such an unex 
 pected visitation, and probably severely injured by the fall 
 ing stone, suddenly sunk down in the water, and sheered off 
 to a distance, and Mark saw him no more. 
 
 Mark was greatly alarmed at this unlooked-for change in 
 his position. He knew not that other sharks were not lying 
 in wait to be revenged on the hated persecutor of their race, 
 and exerted all his strength and skill in swimming to a spot 
 
HERMIT LIFE. 93 
 
 some twenty yards off, where he could crawl out of the 
 water on to the rocks, fearing and more than half suspect 
 ing, at every stroke he took, that a shark was at his heels in 
 full chase, and would soon fasten on one of his limbs. 
 
 This incident taught Mark Rowland a useful lesson, and 
 ever afterwards, whenever he set a steel trap for an enemy, 
 he took especial pains to avoid putting his own foot in it. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 OCEAN DEITIES! 
 
 ONE morning, as Mark was standing on the rocks by the 
 margin of the pool, and, preparing for a swim, had thrown 
 off the ragged garments which constituted his whole ward 
 robe, and was about to take the refreshing plunge, he be 
 held, greatly to his astonishment, a strange-looking head pop 
 up out of the water but a few fathoms from the shore. The 
 head Somewhat resembled the head of a dog, and yet the 
 features, taken together, had a sort of human look, remind 
 ing one of an exceedingly homely, repulsive-looking savage, 
 with hairy face and neck, and bright sparkling eyes. 
 
 This creature fixed his eyes steadily on Mark, as if to in 
 quire who he was, and what business he had on the island. 
 Before Mark could recover from his surprise at the sight of 
 such an unexpected intruder, another head of a similar stamp 
 showed itself near the same spot, and with a defiant expres 
 sion, indicating that he was not to be trifled With, also looked 
 hard at the cabin-boy. 
 
 Mark remained motionless, and in turn stared hard at 
 these inquisitive animals. Both parties were puzzled. What 
 they thought of Mark, as he stood there on the rocks, with 
 uncombed hair, bronzed features, and naked limbs, was 
 never recorded. Mark had heard of sea-serpents and mer 
 maids, sea-lions and seals, walrusses and krakens, and other 
 monsters which are said to inhabit the great deep, and some- 
 
 04 
 
OCEAN DEITIES. 95 
 
 times show themselves to highly-favored mariners. Whether 
 the animals with these strange-looking heads, and who ap 
 peared to feel themselves perfectly at home, belonged to 
 either of those tribes, was more than his learning of sagacity 
 could declare. 
 
 In a few minutes the heads, as if satisfied with their 
 scrutiny, and believing they had nothing to fear from tye 
 strange and awkward-looking figure on the rocks, disap 
 peared. Mark was indignant at this invasion of his do 
 minions, and was particularly incensed at the idea of their 
 taking possession of his " pool " for the performance of 
 their ablutions. These interlopers had a saucy and danger 
 ous look. He did not like their appearance, and felt unwill 
 ing to enter the waters which they inhabited. He waited a 
 while on the rocks to see if they would show themselves 
 again. But as they chose to remain invisible to him, he 
 resumed his tattered garments, and slowly walked away. 
 
 A few mornings afterwards, Mark saw an animal of a 
 clumsy, uncouth shape, covered with hair, with a head sim 
 ilar to the ones he had seen so unexpectedly thrust out of 
 the water, and legs and arms, somewhat resembling the fins 
 of a fish, stretched out lazily on a rock, close to the edge of 
 the pool. As Mark went towards it and hallooed, the crea 
 ture slipped off the rock into the water, and he saw him no 
 more. 
 
 Mark felt a desire to learn something more of the nature 
 and habits of his new visitors, and determined to watch 
 their haunts and study their characters, and, if desirable, 
 cultivate their acquaintance. In all likelihood he/ would 
 have carried his project into effect, and established a treaty 
 of friendship with these intruders, had not an incident oc 
 curred which entirely changed the position of his affairs, and 
 rendered such a scheme impracticable. 
 
 He had been on the bleak and barren island of St. Paul 
 
96 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 about eight months, when early one morning, attended by 
 his pets, the sea-gulls, he mounted the high cliff on which he 
 had erected his flagstaff. He looked abroad to see if any 
 vessel was in the offing ; but he had been so often disap 
 pointed, that he did this more through habit than with the 
 expectation of seeing a ship approaching the island. As he 
 looked towards the north-west, he fancied he saw a dark spot 
 afar off. He rubbed his e}^es and looked again. It was no 
 deceptive vision. The object, whatever it might be, was still 
 there. It was not long before, to his great delight, he made 
 it out to be a ship, for the sun had now risen, and he could 
 distinguish the sails. 
 
 The ship appeared to increase in size, and her outlines 
 became every moment more distinct, a convincing proof that 
 she was coming towards the island. With great glee Mark 
 fastened his old jacket to the top of the flag-pole as a signal 
 of distress. Then seated himself on the rock, with his birds 
 resting on his shoulders, and awaited, with mingled expec 
 tation, anxiety, and joy, the result. 
 
 The breeze was moderate, and the ship slowly approached, 
 but gave no indications of changing her course. If she kept 
 on, she would pass the island within less than a league, and 
 at that distance not only the signal, but the flagstaff, and 
 even Mark himself, could be seen from the decks without a 
 spy-glass. 
 
 Mark felt that the crisis of his fate was at hand ; that if 
 this ship passed by without noticing his signal, as others had 
 done, he could no longer cherish any hope, and that his 
 skeleton would soon be bleaching on the rocks. 
 
 But Mark was not doomed to suffer again the pangs of 
 disappointment, and his suspense was not of great duration ; 
 for, long before he supposed the stranger was near enough to 
 make out his signal, he beheld, to his inexpressible delight, 
 the broad American ensign leave the quarter-deck of the ship, 
 
OCEAN DEITIES. 97 
 
 and after fluttering a moment in the air, wave gracefully 
 from the spanker peak. 
 
 His signal was seen. His signal was answered. He knew 
 that in a few hours, at most, he would escape from his long 
 imprisonment on a desert island, and again enjoy the bless 
 ings of social intercourse with friends and countrymen. With 
 heartfelt gratitude he dropped on his knees, and offered his 
 fervent thanks to the Almighty. 
 
 The ship which Mark saw was the Rosamond, of- Boston, 
 bound from New York to the Cape of Good Hope. The 
 captain, whose name was Lamark, was a thorough seaman, 
 a skilful navigator, and an honest man. He knew that a 
 current had set him to the westward, and that he must be 
 near the meridian of St Paul. The wind having hauled far 
 to the north, he was steering a south-east course, and had 
 ordered a good lookout to be kept as the ship drew near the 
 latitude of the island ; and just as the sun was making its 
 appearance in the east, the craggy rocks of St. Paul were 
 plainly seen from the fore top-mast head. 
 
 As there were no dangerous rocks or shoals in the vicin^ 
 ity, and as the island lay directly in his course, Captain 
 Lamark determined to pass as near to it as he could do with 
 safety, for the purpose of gratifying his curiosity. As the 
 ship approached the land, the captain was surprised to see 
 with his spy-glass a pole on the highest point, with a flag fly 
 ing. He divined the meaning of the signal at once ; he knew 
 that there must be some poor shipwrecked sailors on that 
 desolate spot, and he ordered the American ensign to be 
 hoisted immediately, to assure them that help was at hand, 
 and the quarter-boat to be got in readiness for an expedition 
 to the shore. The Rosamond passed along the eastern or 
 windward side of the island, and when about a mile off, the 
 ship was hove-to, the boat was lowered, and Captain Lamark 
 ordered Mr. Hawkins, the second officer, to go to the lee- 
 
98 MARK EOWLANP. 
 
 side of the island, land there if it were possible, and bring 
 off any person or persons whom he might find there in dis 
 tress. 
 
 As Mr. Hawkins approached the shore, he, was greeted 
 with shouts of welcome by the half-naked, pale, and ema 
 ciated Mark Rowland, who hastened to the water's edge, 
 almost crazy with joy. Mr. Hawkins landed with some 
 difficulty, and after asking a few questions of the wild and 
 half-starved looking being, the only human inhabitant of the 
 island, and after giving his hand a hearty grip to assure him 
 of his protection, ordered the men to gather some eggs, which 
 were abundant in that neighborhood, while he assisted Mark 
 in placing his prize, the bag of golden coins, in the boat. 
 Mark then jumped in, accompanied by his interesting com 
 panions of long standing ; the sailors followed, and in a few 
 minutes the deserted cabin-boy and his treasure and his dar 
 ling friends, the birds, were safe on board the good ship Rosa 
 mond. Orders were given to " fill away," and the ship 
 dashed merrily along towards her destined port. 
 
 Mark was received in the kindest manner by Captain La- 
 mark, who welcomed him on board the Rosamond, listened 
 to his story with much interest, and promised to take good 
 care of him and his treasure. He took him into the cabin, 
 and caused a good meal to be placed before him, to which 
 Mark did ample justice. He supplied Mark with clothes 
 from his own trunk, which, although much too large for him 
 in his present condition, after a few reefs had been taken in 
 them, answered the purpose passably well. He furnished 
 Mark with a berth, or sleeping-place, in the steerage, and 
 learned from his lips the particulars of his short, but humble 
 and eventful life. 
 
 When Mark had concluded his narrative, the worthy cap 
 tain again shook his hand, and told him his troubles were 
 over, that the ship Rosamond was bound to the Cape of 
 
OCEAN DEITIES. 99 
 
 Good Hope, and back to a port in the United States, proba 
 bly to Boston, and that if he did not fall in with a ship from 
 the East India seas^ bound home, to which vessel Mark -could 
 be transferred, if he wished, he might safely calculate to be 
 landed in Boston in four months or four months and a half, 
 at farthest, and could then start off without a moment's de 
 lay to his home, where his presence would shed plenty and 
 joy over his mother's hearth. " And I will pledge my word," 
 said Captain Lamark, with emphasis, " that you shall not 
 again be left on a desert island, to subsist for months on 
 raw eggs and scallops, taming sea-gulls, tormenting sharks, 
 and hunting for hidden treasures." 
 
 Mark slept soundly the night following his rescue from 
 the island, and, accustomed to early rising, was on deck 
 soon after sunrise, enjoying through every nerve and fibre 
 of his frame, his changed condition. He found Captain 
 Lamark on deck, talking earnestly with the first officer, Mr. 
 Digges. He learned from their conversation that the ship, 
 having run about sixty miles since leaving St. Paul, was 
 now on the equator, and that the time-hallowed custom of 
 shaving those who had never crossed the line, and introduc 
 ing them to Old Neptune and his wife, was to be observed 
 on board the Rosamond. 
 
 Mark had heard the crew of the Saladin discuss this sub 
 ject, and his curiosity was excited ; and being assured that, 
 in consequence of his delicate health and long residence 
 within a degree of the equator, Old Neptune would have 
 little or nothing to say to him, he rejoiced that the mystic 
 ceremonies were going to take place, and manifested much 
 interest in the proceedings, which proved to be a regular 
 frolic, and a series of practical and coarse jokes at the ex 
 pense of the poor fellows who had never been south of the 
 equator. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast, Mr. Hawkins, the second 
 
100 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 mate, a regular case-hardened old sailor, who had followed 
 the sea for thirty years, and had never risen to the dignity 
 of first officer, went aloft, and was soon heard to hail, " On 
 deck there ! " 
 
 " Hallo ! " responded the captain ; " what's adrift now? " 
 
 " I see a sail-boat, sir, a long way off, steering directly for 
 the ship ! " 
 
 " Ah I" exclaimed Captain Lamark, "I thought it was 
 about time. That must be Old Neptune ! How many are 
 there in the boat ? " 
 
 " Three persons, as well as I can make out." 
 
 " Aye," said the skipper, " Old Neptune and his wife, and 
 the barber ! Come down, Mr. Hawkins, we must prepare to 
 receive them with all due honor and respect." 
 
 Among the ship's company, consisting of fifteen persons, 
 it was found on investigation that three had never crossed 
 the equinoctial line^ and were of course entitled to the partic 
 ular attentions Of Old Neptune. These three ^unfortunate 
 men were sent by Mr. Hawkins into the half-deck, when the 
 hatch-way was closed, and they were imprisoned until prep 
 arations were made for their introduction to the Monarch of 
 the Seas. 
 
 It was determined that Mr Hawkins should personate Nep 
 tune. He was to appear in full costume. His grim features 
 were made to look more grim, by liberal dashes of the paint 
 brush, dipped in blue, red, and white colors. His head was 
 covered by a huge mass of gulf-weed, ingeniously arranged 
 to represent a crown, although, as it hung down in festoons 
 about his ears and neck, it bore a nearer resemblance to an 
 enormous wig. His chest and brawny arms were bare, but 
 covered with blotches of paint of diverse hues. His only 
 garment was a tunic, hastily manufactured for the occasion 
 out of the ship's private signal, a square flag, half blue and 
 half red. A slit was cut in the centre, the head was thrust 
 
OCEAN DEITIES. 101 
 
 through, and the garment, in the style of apowc/io, was com 
 plete. In one hand he held a short speaking-trumpet ; in the 
 other a three-pronged grainse ; and assuming a majestic atti 
 tude, made a truly imposing appearance, and was believed 
 by his shipmates to be a capital likeness of the Ocean King. 
 
 His wife Amphitrite was personated by a jolly little tar, 
 named Archie Stobbs. His face was also painted, but in a 
 style intended to give him a gentle and feminine appearance, 
 which was done by painting his cheeks and the tip of his 
 nose of a lively red, his eyebrows black, and the rest of his 
 face a clear white. A small, delicate moustache, created by 
 drawing the black paint-brush across the upper lip, added to 
 the piquancy and character of the features. His head was 
 profusely decked with gulf-weed, ingeniously twisted into 
 curls and ringlets, which fell gracefully upon the shoulders, 
 and, reaching to the waist, were met by a nondescript gar 
 ment, considered appropriate for the occasion, and made out 
 of a calico counterpane which rejoiced in all the colors of the 
 rainbow, and was indeed a great curiosity, belonging to Cap 
 tain Lamark, and a present from his grandmother. Clad 
 in this costume, little Archie looked and strutted every inch 
 a queen. 
 
 The barber who attended on their majesties was also 
 quaintly arrayed. He held in one hand a tar-bucket, half- 
 filled with the odoriferous fluid diluted with oil, and a tar 
 brush. In the other he flourished his razor in the guise of 
 a piece of iron hoop, with notches at intervals, to produce a 
 more decided effect. 
 
 While these principal actors in the drama about to be per 
 formed were getting ready to enter on the scene, the remain 
 der of the crew, under the direction of Mr. Digges, were 
 engaged in drawing water and pouring it into the long-boat ; 
 and on the bow of the boat a platform was erected as a 
 throne for the Ocean Deities. 
 
102 MAKK ROWLAND. 
 
 "When the arrangements were completed, which occupied 
 fully an hour, the three men, who, in a state of unpleasant 
 suspense, were confined in the half-deck, listened with much 
 interest to the following dialogue, intended for their ears, 
 carried on with speaking trumpets between old Neptune, who 
 was on the bowsprit, and Captain Lamark, standing on the 
 quarter-deck. 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! " 
 
 "Hallo!" f 
 
 " "Where are you from ! " 
 
 " New York." 
 
 "Where bound?" 
 
 " Cape of Good Hope." 
 
 " Have you any strangers on board?" 
 
 " Ay, ay ! three fine fellows, who are longing to pay their 
 respects to you/' 
 
 " All right ! " said old Neptune. " I'll step over the gang 
 way and shave them directly." 
 
 In a few minutes the hatchway was opened, and the pris 
 oners were gravely told that Neptune was on board, and one 
 of their number must come on deck and be introduced to 
 him and his wife. 
 
 Harry Linsay, a lively young fellow, who had been only 
 one voyage to sea, and was eager to be first on the list, that 
 he might enjoy the subsequent sport, was carefully blind 
 folded, and led on deck. He was made to ascend to the 
 gunwale of the long-boat by the help of the gangway lad 
 der, and then seated on a plank, fronting their majesties, 
 with his feet and legs immersed in water. 
 
 Neptune asked the new proselyte various questions, in a 
 thundering voice through his speaking-trumpet, in relation 
 to his birthplace, age, habits, &c., the answers to which were 
 'to be placed on record. He then ordered the barber to do 
 his duty. The lower part of the poor fellow's face and his 
 
OCEAN DEITIES. 103 
 
 chin were soon thickly covered with the unsavory lather ; 
 and while the operations were going on, sundry questions 
 were asked by the inquisitive potentate, and when his mouth 
 was opened to reply, the waggish barber popped in the tar 
 brush, to Linsay' s great annoyance and disgust. The razor 
 was drawn over his chin in a very careless manner, and the 
 process of being shaved was completed. And now some of 
 the crew who were standing round with buckets and pots full 
 of salt water, poured it upon his devoted head, or dashed it 
 in his face as a purifying rite. 
 
 But the bandage was not yet taken off. Old Neptune con 
 tinued to ask Linsay a number of questions, and the ques 
 tions and replies were of a nature to elicit shouts of laugh 
 ter from the sailors. A speaking-trumpet was given him 
 through which to make his responses, under pretense that 
 the king was hard of hearing, and he was also instructed to 
 open his mouth wide and halloo with all liis might. But his 
 mouth was no sooner stretched to its utmost capacity, than 
 a bucket of salt water -was emptied into the mouth of the 
 trumpet, which conducted it down his throat, almost suffo 
 cating the unfortunate tyro, while the mirth of the lookers-on 
 waxed fast and furious. 
 
 Linsay was then required by Old Neptune to promise on 
 his sacred honor that he would never eat hard bread when he 
 could get soft, unless he liked hard bread best 5 ; that he 
 would never go on foot when he could ride, unless he pre 
 ferred to walk ; that he would never stay on shore when he 
 could go to sea, unless he liked land better than water ; and 
 that he would kill a shark whenever he could meet one, 
 unless the shark killed him first. 
 
 Linsay having complied with these requisitions, Old Nep 
 tune cried out in a tone of authority, " Give him the finish 
 ing touch ! " 
 
 The plank on which he was seated was instantly knocked 
 
104 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 away, and he tumbled heels over head into the water, uttering 
 a scream, under the impression that he was overboard. At 
 this moment the bandage which covered his e3 T es was twitched 
 off, and he recovered the full use of his senses and his legs, 
 and looking up saw Old Neptune seated on his throne, with 
 his wife beside him, holding their sides while indulging in 
 peals of undignified laughter, and the rest of his shipmates 
 standing around, heartily joined in the chorus. 
 
 The same ceremonies were observed in the case of the 
 other individuals who had never crossed the line. The frolic 
 lasted for some hours, when Neptune laid aside his emblems 
 of authority, and order and discipline, which had been for the 
 time not a little relaxed, again reigned on board the Rosa 
 mond. 
 
 Such scenes occasionally tend to break the monotony 
 which always prevails on shipboard during the long passage 
 across the tropics and around the Cape of Good Hope or 
 Cape Horn, and if judiciously managed produce a good effect 
 on the spirits of the crew. But care should be taken that 
 the authority of the officers, and the strength of the " one 
 man power," which is absolutely necessary in sailing a ship, 
 are not weakened thereby. It should also be recollected that 
 although it may be sport to those who have already crossed 
 the equator, it is no sport to those who are subjected to such 
 humiliation, insult, and sometimes abuse. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CATCHING A MERMAID. 
 
 ON the evening after the ship Rosamond crossed the equi 
 noctial line, there was an animated conversation among the 
 ship's company connected with the subjects of the clay. 
 
 " Old Neptune's idea of shaving a new-comer, and sousing 
 him in salt water afterwards," said little Bob Randy, " is a 
 good one, and makes fun for all hands. It used to be man 
 aged more roughly before sailors became civilized, and woe 
 to the man who refused to submit to the whims of Old Nep 
 tune. Indeed, I have heard old sailors say that in some 
 ships keel-hauling was resorted to when a fellow was foolishly 
 obstinate, and refused to ' come and be shaved,' when about 
 to cross for the first time in his life the equinoctial line." 
 
 "Keel-hauling? What's that?" exclaimed Harry Lin- 
 say. 
 
 " Oh, a very simple operation to take the kinks out of a 
 fellow," replied Bob Randy. " It consists in merely making 
 fast the bight of a rope to a man's body just under the arm 
 pits, and passing it under the ship's bottom to the other side 
 of the deck. Then toss him overboard, lowering him grad 
 ually with one part of the rope, while half a dozen men, more 
 or less, bowse away at the other. He is thus hauled beneath 
 the keel from one side of the ship to the other ; and by the 
 time he is roused on deck, he withdraws all objections to be 
 ing shaved, is docile as a floander, and obeys orders with 
 out grumbling." 
 
 105 
 
106 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 " I should think so ! " remarked Harry Linsay, with a 
 shudder. 
 
 " But the work must be done at once, and with a will," 
 continued Bob Bandy, u or I would not give a rope-yarn for 
 the man's life. Suppose he should get foul of the keel, and 
 stick there for a while? That might prove a left-handed 
 joke." . 
 
 " True as a book, Bob," exclaimed Jack Radkin, a smoke- 
 dried old salt, who had served for years on board an English 
 man-of-war, and was strongly suspected of being a subject 
 of John Bull, notwithstanding his American protection. 
 " But he must take his chance ; and if he does not sprawl 
 about while under the ship's bottom, and is careful to keep 
 his legs and arms snug and quiet, he will suffer but little 
 inconvenience. To make all safe, however, it would be well 
 to fasten a twelve-pound shot to his feet, which will sink him 
 clear of the keel, and then the work can be done shipshape, 
 and finished off in a jiffey." 
 
 " You speak as if you were an old hand at the business," 
 said Bob Randy. " How is it, Jack ? " 
 
 " I saw a miserable scoundrel keel-hauled once," said 
 Jack, " and was obliged to lend a hand, and a bungling piece 
 of work we made of it. I could do the job better now ; but 
 hope I shall never be called on to test my skill." 
 
 "Amen to that, with all my heart!" said Bob. "But 
 how happened you to be inveigled into such a scrape ? " 
 
 " Oh, it happened when I was a boy, more than twenty- 
 five years ago, before I left the old country. I was an ap 
 prentice on board the barque Marlborough, of Bristol, Cap 
 tain Rockstone, on a voyage from Bristol to Barbadoes. 
 r The captain was a kind-hearted, indulgent man, and was 
 greatly liked by the sailors. On the passage home, the 
 steward, who was a Lascar from Calcutta, was shamefully 
 neglectful of his duties, and when reminded of it by the cap- 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. 107 
 
 tain, used insolent and mutinous language, for which Cap 
 tain Rockstone gently touched him up with a rope's end. 
 The fellow swore revenge, and kept his oath. 
 
 " On the following night, while the captain was sleeping 
 in his state-room, and Mr. Bolan, the first mate, was attend 
 ing to his duties on deck, the steward stealthily approached 
 the captain's berth, and with a carving-knife stabbed him to 
 the heart. The unfortunate man could only cry out, c Help, 
 help ! Mr. Stanchell ! The villain has murdered me ! ' when 
 he breathed his last. 
 
 " Mr. Stanchell, the second mate, hearing the cry, leaped 
 from his berth, and grappled with the steward, who, dealing 
 him a severe wound with the same weapon, escaped on deck. 
 But the hue and cry was raised, and in less than a minute 
 every man on board knew that the captain was murdered by 
 the steward ! The assassin was seized, and by order of the 
 chief mate, who now assumed command of -the ship, mana 
 cled, and lashed firmly to an eyebolt in the half-deck. 
 
 " A consultation, a sort of council of war, was now held 
 on the forecastle by the men, who loved the captain, hated 
 the assassin, and were' greatly shocked at the bloody act. 
 After a short discussion, it was agreed to by all hands, that 
 the steward had broken the laws of God and man, had com 
 mitted a murder, and deserved severe punishment, and as 
 the laws on land were slow in their operation and uncertain, 
 it was our duty to take the matter into our own hands, and 
 make sure that he got his deserts. * % 
 
 " Then the question arose, how should we punish him ? One 
 was in favor of hanging him at the yard-arm ; another thought 
 we should strip off his shirt, tie him to the main-rigging, and 
 flog him with a two-inch rope until he could neither speak 
 nor wink ; while more than one thought the best course would 
 be to fasten the grindstone to his neck, and throw him over 
 board. There was quite a difference of opinion on the sub- 
 
108 MAEK ROWLAND. 
 
 ject, until one of the men suggested keel-hauling as a pun 
 ishment just suited to the crime. The suggestion was 
 received with universal favor, and it was decided, as with 
 one voice, that keel-hauling it should be. 
 
 " Preparations were immediately made for cany ing out the 
 sentence. Mr. Bolan, the chief mate, was at that moment 
 below, looking after the comfort of Mr. Stanchell, who had 
 been badly cut with the assassin's knife. The doors of the 
 companion-way were closed, and the cabin skylight put on 
 -and secured, -to prevent the mate from coming on deck and 
 being a witness to the scene about to be acted. And for a 
 similar reason the cook was confined in the forecastle by 
 fastening the forescuttle. We now had a clear deck ; the ship 
 was hove-to, the lashings which confined the murderer to the 
 half-deck were cut, and he was hauled up the ladder and 
 brought forward to the waist. When told of the punishment 
 in store for him, he was dreadfully agitated, and begged for 
 mercy. He soon found that that was out of the question, 
 and entreated to be killed on the spot, a favor which was not 
 granted. 
 
 " The rope was passed under the ship's bottom, and fast 
 ened around his body, and, in spite of his struggles and prayers 
 for mercy, he was thrown overboard to windward. Two of the 
 sailors were appointed to ' ease him away handsomely/ and 
 all the others were required to lay hold of the rope which was 
 to drag him under the keel, and up the ship's side to leeward. 
 It happened, unfortunately for the steward, 'that we pulled 
 too hard, or the others did not lower away fast enough, for 
 the rascal scraped the ship's bottom, and caused a long 
 delay by sticking to the keel. After jerking the rope, then 
 slacking it, and trying various experiments, we got him clear, 
 and hauled him in on deck in triumph. We had succeeded in 
 keelhauling him, but he was dead when we landed him on 
 deck." 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. 109 
 
 "Dead?" exclaimed Harry Linsay. "Did you say the 
 man was dead ? " t 
 
 " Dead as a dried ling," replied Jack Radkin. " His face 
 was badly mangled, and one" of his arms was broken in 
 deed it was nearly pulled from the socket. Besides, he was 
 so long in the water that even a grampus could not have 
 stood it without coming up to blow." 
 
 " And what was the consequence of such an outrageous 
 act ? Why were you not all hanged for murder, as you de 
 served to be ? " said Harry Linsay. 
 
 " Not so fast, young man. Our motives were good. Our 
 object was to do justice, and dodge the law's delay. Be 
 sides, we did not mean to drown the fellow entirely ; but 
 only to give him a foretaste of what was coming. Jt was 
 rather a hard case for him, and it might have gone hard with 
 us, if the matter had ever been found out." 
 
 " No doubt of that, Jack ; but how did you get out of the 
 scrape ? " asked Bob Randy. 
 
 " Why, when the business was over, and the body of the 
 bloody-minded Lascar a couple of miles astern, the com 
 panion-way was opened, and Mr. Bolan was told that the 
 steward had by some unknown means got loose from his 
 lashings in the half-deck, had rushed up the ladder, forced 
 aside the booby-hatch, shaken off the men who tried to se- 
 sure him, and jumped overboard. This story was recorded 
 in the log-book, and I suppose everybody believed it, of 
 course, and asked no questions. But I know nothing about 
 that, for I was impressed on board an English man-of-war, 
 just as we made the Land's End, the lieutenant who boarded 
 us having taken a fancy to the cut of my jib, declaring that 
 I was just the chap to wait on the ward-room. mess." 
 
 Further discussion was prevented by the loud call of the 
 
 officer on deck, who shouted, " Eight bells ! Call the watch ! " 
 10 
 
110 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 and the group of listeners to Jack Radkin's story was scat 
 tered as if a bomb-shell had fallen in the midst of it. 
 
 Mark Rowland's sufferings on the island of St. Paul, his 
 prepossessing countenance, and his modest demeanor, and 
 perhaps the fact that he was possessed of a goodly amount of 
 riches, which, however acquired, in the eyes of short-sighted 
 mortals, is apt to add to a man's respectability, gained him 
 the favor of Captain Lamark and his officers. He messed in 
 the cabin, and the kind treatment he received, and generous 
 living, did wonders. In a week or ten days, he in a great 
 measure recovered from the shock which his health and 
 constitution had met with in consequence of exposures and 
 hard fare on the island of St. Paul. He felt able as well as 
 willing^ to work, and readily lent a hand to pull and haul, 
 make and take in sail, or do any other similar duty. 
 
 Mark volunteered to join Mr. Hawkins's watch, for he felt 
 deeply attached to that veteran sailor, who was the first per 
 son to take him by ^he hand, and give him words of comfort, 
 after his long sojourn on the island. Mr. Hawkins, on his 
 part, took a decided liking to Mark, and during the remain 
 der of the voyage treated him with much kindness, seemed 
 to regard him as a companion, answered all his questions, 
 and in the long watches of the night related many incidents, 
 and described scenes he had met with in the course of his 
 eventful life, that gave Mark a deep insight into the mys 
 teries of a sailor's occupation. 
 
 A few days after Mark Rowland had been on board the 
 Rosamond, he described to Mr. Hawkins his plan of con 
 structing a bathing-place in the island in order to avoid the 
 sharks, and how it came to pass that some impertinent and 
 ill-favored animals had invaded his domains, taken posses 
 sion of his pond, and deprived him of his daily recreation. 
 He minutely described their appearance, and added that he 
 doubted not they were formidable and ferocious animals, 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. Ill 
 
 half fish and half flesh ; perhaps they were mermen or mer 
 maids, and he congratulated himself on having escaped their 
 clutches. 
 
 Mr. Hawkins indulged in a hearty laugh. " Why," said 
 he, "they were only seals, an inoffensive animal, which 
 would not harm an infant. With a small club you might 
 have defended yourself against an army of them, if they 
 could have mustered courage enough to attack you. In the 
 South Sea Islands, I have seen hundreds of them lying on 
 the rocks all dead or senseless, and ready to have their jack 
 ets stripped off, and their blubber put into the trying-pot, 
 having been knocked on the head by a couple of sailors 
 equipped for the work." 
 
 " But what business had they in my pond?" said Mark. 
 " After I had fenced out the sharks, and put it in excellent 
 order for a bathing-place, it was an act of unparalleled im 
 pudence on their part to appropriate it to themselves with 
 so little ceremony, and try to frighten me away by defiant 
 looks." 
 
 " They were probably wanderers in search of a resting- 
 place," rejoined Mr. Hawkins, " having been driven from 
 their homes in a much higher latitude, for seals are seldom 
 seen in the torrid zone, or perhaps adventurers in quest of 
 some new and unexplored region, with a view to found a col 
 ony. They may have b'een cruising round the island for 
 some time before you were frightened by their ugly faces, 
 and having discovered your cozy little pond, which, I dare 
 say, was well stocked with fishes of various kinds, congrat 
 ulated themselves on having realized -a seal's idea of a Par 
 adise on earth." 
 
 " If that's the case," said Mark, " it would have been a 
 pity to disturb them, and they are heartily welcome to the 
 pond. I shall never put in a claim for it hereafter. I hope 
 
112 MAKE ROWLAND. 
 
 they will long keep possession, and much good may it do 
 them ! " 
 
 " Spoken like a. Christian," said Mr. Hawkins, " to which 
 I say amen. Man has much to answer for in searching out 
 their haunts in the most remote parts of the globe, and de 
 stroying millions of these harmless and interesting crea 
 tures, merely for their furs and oil. You made a great 
 mistake in supposing they were mermen or mermaids, which 
 are a very different order of beings. It was lucky you did 
 not fall in with those strange creatures on that island." 
 
 " Why so? " inquired Mark. 
 
 " Because, if all tales be true, they are a treacherous and 
 ungrateful race, hating mankind, and never so well pleased 
 as when doing a sailor or a fisherman an ill turn." 
 
 " What kind of looking beasts are they ? " said Mark. 
 
 " Their features bear a close resemblance to those of hu 
 man beings," said Mr. Hawkins. " But the noses of the 
 mermen have a curious twist to starboard. Their eyes are 
 small, and they all squint, as if they were trying to look 
 half a dozen ways at once, and their beards, of coarse text 
 ure and of a sea-green hue, reach to the waist. Their 
 appearance, on the whole, is not prepossessing." 
 
 " So I should suppose," said Mark, with a smile. 
 
 "The mermen," continued Mr. Hawkins, "probably be-^ 
 cause their appearance is so very repulsive, seldom show 
 themselves ; but they may not be so bad as their looks indi 
 cate, after all. The worst rogues are often good-looking, 
 while an honest man may wear an ugly phiz. Old Captain 
 Lugner, whom I sailed with once in the ship Nonesuch, said 
 that, on a passage to Batavia, he came in sight of the Mar 
 tin Vas Rocks in the South Atlantic, when a merman swam 
 off from the rocks, and after a great exertion, climbed up the 
 ship's side, to the great consternation of the captain, mates, 
 and all hands. On passing over the gangway, he made a 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. 113 
 
 polite bow, and inquired for the captain, who was pointed 
 out to him by the boatswain, an old cross-grained man-of- 
 war's man, who feared nothing in the shape of man or 
 monster. 
 
 u The merman saluted the captain respectfully, and remov 
 ing a bunch of seaweed from his starboard flipper, showed an 
 ugly wound which was still bleeding. He said he had that 
 morning had a fight with a ground shark, who had bitten off 
 his apologies 'for fingers, and he begged 'Captain Lugner to 
 favor him with a little of his surgical skill and assistance. 
 The captain, who was a kind-hearted man, recovered from 
 his fright, and went into the cabin, and brought up a roll of 
 sticking-plaster, which he applied to the wounded part, and 
 carefully bandaged it, telling his visitor the wound would 
 soon heal. The merman, with a hideous grin intended to be 
 particularly gracious, made a salaam, then turned a double 
 somersault backwards over the quarter-rail into the water, 
 and was off like a finback whale." 
 
 Mark Rowland stared hard at Mr. Hawkins, after listen 
 ing to this strange story ; but finding that worthy officer 
 looking very serious, as if there could be no doubt of its 
 truth, he resumed the conversation, by saying, " So much 
 for the mermen; but of the mermaids/ What of them? " 
 
 " Oh, they are said to be quite handsome, extremely so, 
 with faces as round and smooth as an- apple, with little 
 turned-up noses, blue eyes which will look right through a 
 man as a corkscrew goes through a cork, complexions thor 
 oughly bleached in salt water, and clear and white as alabas 
 ter, and a great profusion of hair, hanging in tresses a yard 
 and a half long, which they are often seen combing with the 
 lower jaw-bone of a shark, while they are reclining among 
 the rocks on some lonely shore, with their heads and shoul 
 ders only out of water." 
 10* 
 
114 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 "They must be rare-looking creatures, indeed," said 
 Mark. " But do they never leave the water entirety? " 
 
 " But seldom," replied Mr. Hawkins, " for only the upper 
 half of their bodies is human ; the rest is like that of a fish, 
 and is terminated with a splendid fish-like tail. So you see 
 the creatures cunningly contrive to keep the lower half of 
 their bodies out of sight, lest it should make an unfavorable 
 impression on those who might chance to see them." 
 
 " I think they are quite right in doing so," said Mark. 
 "-Can they talk intelligibly?" 
 
 " Certainly they can, and use honeyed words, too." 
 
 " What language do they speak? " 
 
 "What language? Why, all languages, of course. Ad 
 dress them in any tongue, and they will reply*in the same. 
 English, French, Dutch, Spanish, Italian, or even Choctaw, 
 or Welsh, 'tis all the same to them, and I doubt not that, 
 in the language of the only poem I ever read, 
 
 they can speak Greek, 
 
 As naturally as pigs do squeak ; 
 And Latin is no more difficile, 
 Than for a blackbird 'tis to whistle.' 
 
 But their greatest charm is in their singing. They will lie 
 for hours among the rocks, and sing a variety of enchanting 
 songs, with voices that thrill through the heart of a man, 
 and make him forget his best friends, his home, his wife and 
 children, and draw him towards them by some strange but 
 irresistible fascination, as the opossum is drawn towards the 
 boa constrictor. But woe to him if he gets within reach of 
 one of these treacherous beings ! While he listens to the 
 song with rapture, and advances towards her, his heart 
 overflowing with gladness, she grasps him with her fin-like 
 arms, exerting a strength that few have power to resist, and, 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. 115 
 
 to his great amazement and horror, plunges with him into 
 the flood, and he is never seen again." 
 
 " But, Mr. Hawkins," inquired Mark, " suppose the man 
 should be the stronger of the two ? " 
 
 " He can keep her his prisoner, and feed her on fresh fish 
 and salt water, until she grants him three wishes, which 
 must not be altogether unreasonable, relating to success in 
 his occupation or his domestic happiness." 
 
 Mark listened, with eyes wide open, to these marvellous 
 statements ; and after a pause of a few minutes, abruptly 
 asked Mr. Hawkins, " Pray, sir, did you ever see a mer 
 maid?" "- 
 
 " Well, no yes only once," replied Mr. Hawkins, in 
 a manner exceedingly embarassed, an unusual case with 
 him. " Upon the whole, Mark, J don't mind telling you all 
 about it. The fact is, whatever my ' protection ' may say, I 
 was born and brought up in a small fishing village on the 
 most rocky-bound coast of Nova Scotia. My father was a 
 fisherman, as his father was before him, and I was educated 
 to the same business ; and at an early age became initiated 
 into all the mysteries of the cod, mackerel, and herring fish 
 eries. When quite young, being only eighteen years old. I 
 fell in love with a bright-eyed little beauty, named Rosa 
 Bell, who lived in our immediate neighborhood. It hap 
 pened, unfortunately for my peace of mind, that Rosa proved 
 to be a veritable coquette, and being much sought after by 
 the young fishermen, and having several strings to her bow, 
 hardly deigned to favor me with a smile, especially if other 
 suitors were present. But I had heard of mermaids, and 
 knew they had been seen at times on different parts of the 
 coast. Indeed, I was assured by a very old fisherman that 
 they sometimes visited a lonely, uninhabited island, just 
 opposite my father's hut, and about a quarter of a mile from 
 the main land. He said they had been seen sometimes in the 
 
116 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 edge of evening, sporting and making merry in the waters 
 at the base of the overhanging cliffs, and if I kept a sharp 
 lookout in that direction after sunset, I might be fortunate 
 enough to see one, and if my strength and courage did not 
 fail me, seize upon her and compel her to grant me three 
 wishes. 
 
 " The idea was a bright one, and I resolved to profit by it 
 without .loss of time. "With this object in view, I several 
 times crossed over to the island stealthily in the afternoon, 
 and as twilight approached, gazed inquiringly around, hop 
 ing to see a mermaid reposing on the rocks, or sporting in 
 the water ; and one memorable evening nry expectations were 
 realized. 
 
 " You can hardly conceive of the joy, of the trepidation, 
 which seized me, when, just at dusk, I saw one of these 
 beautiful creatures come out of the sea, and apparently much 
 fatigued with the exercise of swimming, rest herself on a 
 shelving rock. Her long hair, dripping with the salt water, 
 hung down in long and thick tresses ; and she immediately 
 began to press out the water, and comb the tresses with her 
 fingers. 
 
 " ' Now is the time/ thought I to myself. ' If I don't 
 embrace this opportunity, may I never get married.' I was 
 young and vigorous, strong as a giant, and bold as a buffalo, 
 and with such a prize as Rosa Bell at stake, did not for a 
 moment hesitate to measure my strength with a mermaid, 
 not more than half my size.' I crept down from my hiding- 
 place, passed gently around a ledge of rocks, and came sud 
 denly upon the unsuspecting water nymph. With one bound 
 I was at her side. I caught her round the waist, and clutched 
 her in my arms. 
 
 " She was dreadfully frightened, and gave a shrill and 
 prolonged scream, which was heard a mile and a half off! 
 She fought like a tiger-cat, and struggled hard to get away. 
 
CATCHING A MERMAID. 117 
 
 ; Let me go ! Do let me go ! ' she cried, in genuine fisher 
 man's lingo. But it was of no use. Exerting all my 
 strength, I soon mastered her. ' Now,' said I, in a menacing 
 tone, * grant me three wishes, here on the. spot, or you are 
 my prisoner for life. Here they are : first, I wish to marry 
 Rosa Bell, secondly, I wish to own a neat cottage, hand 
 somely furnished, thirdly, I wish to have a hundred guin 
 eas put in my pocket every New Year's Day. What say 
 you to that, now ? Will you grant my wishes ? Say yes, or 
 I'll '" 
 
 " c Oh, yes, yes,' said the mermaid, in a trembling voice. 
 1 Let me go ! Do let me go ! ' ' 
 
 " 4 That's enough,' said I ; and as a mermaid was never 
 known to break her word, I instantly released her. The 
 moment my arms were unclasped, she made a dive beneath 
 the water, but to my surprise soon rose to the surface, her 
 head above the rippling waves, and began swimming like a 
 sea-horse towards the opposite shore. 
 
 " c Never mind,* I said aloud, to myself, c 'tis all right ! 
 My three wishes .are granted, and I am a made man for life. 
 Jemmy Hawkins and Rosa Bell forever! Success to the 
 mermaids ! I skipped across the rocks, and reached my 
 skiff, which was lying quietly in a little cove, and crossed 
 over to the mainland, my heart as light as the down from 
 beneath, the wing of a diver, and my head actually bewil 
 dered with my good fortune. I hardly slept a wink that 
 night, but of waking dreams I had abundance, and they 
 were of the most gay and happy description. At an early 
 hour I sallied forth rejoicing, determined to take immediate 
 steps towards securing my good fortune. 
 
 " But my disappointment, shame, and mortification may 
 be imagined, when I learned that I had made a terrible mis 
 take, and the whole village was in an uproar of merriment 
 about it. The little mermaid, who, after struggling and 
 
118 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 . fighting like a pirate, granted my three wishes, proved to 
 be no mermaid after all, but a lively, frolicsome girl, real 
 flesh and blood, named Polly Wogge, old skipper Wogge's 
 youngest daughter. She was an adroit swimmer, and in a 
 gay mood had left tyer companions sporting in the surf near 
 the beach, and ventured across the smooth water to the 
 island. Supposing herself alone, she intended resting for a 
 while on the rock, after the fatiguing exercise, when I 
 pounced upon, and nearly frightened her out of her wits. 
 
 " I could not stand the shafts of ridicule that were lev 
 elled against me. It was more than human nature could 
 bear. Both Polly Wogge and Kosa Bell were unsparing in 
 their taunts, gibes, and jests ; and even the children laughed 
 and pointed at me, as I passed the huts on my way to the 
 shore. So I took a straight course for Halifax, worked 
 my passage to Boston, shipped as a sailor on board a brig 
 bound to the West Indies, and have never visited Nova 
 Scotia since." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 EXCITING SCENES. 
 
 FOR several days after the ship Rosamond crossed the 
 * equator, the wind continued light and baffling, and some 
 times for hours it was entirely calm. The ship gradually 
 worked to the southward, however, and having reached the 
 latitude of three degrees, the regular south-east trade winds 
 began to blow, and the ship passed merrily on her way, 
 close-hauled, with a pleasant six-knot breeze, a clear sky, 
 and a smooth sea. 
 
 On the following morning, having reached the latitude of 
 six degrees south, a ship was descried from aloft, about two 
 points forward of the beam, and distant 'Some six or seven 
 miles. The ship was apparently on a wind, steering to the 
 northward, and under short sail. The royals and top-gallant 
 sails were furled, and the mainsail hauled up. Captain La- 
 mark was called,, and with spy -glass in hand he hastened on 
 deck. 
 
 " That fellow don't seem to be in a hurry," said Mr. Haw 
 kins, who had the morning watch. " I wonder where he is 
 bound to in that direction, and why he don't make more 
 sail." 
 
 " He may be from the River of Plate, bound to some port 
 in Europe," said Captain Lamark ; " and as his masts have 
 the true pilot-boat rake, and the captain is probably paid by 
 the month, he jogs along quietly under easy sail,' and will 
 have more wages due him at the end of the voyage than 
 
 119 
 
120 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 
 
 would be the case if he cracked on all sail in all weathers. 
 Well, peace be with him; let "'him spin his own spunyarn. 
 Hallo ! what is the fellow about now ? He's tacking ship as 
 sure as I'm a porpoise, and his vessel goes round like a 
 top ! " 
 
 Captain Lamark's eyes did not deceive him. The stran 
 ger had by this time probably got a glimpse of the Rosamond, 
 and seemed suddenly endued with new life. After having 
 tacked ship, he kept off the wind a couple of points, set top 
 gallant sails and royals and studding-sails, steering in a 
 direction that would enable him, if he proved the fastest sail 
 er, to close with the Rosamond. 
 
 Captain Lamark watched him closely with his spy-glass, 
 and was by no means satisfied with his appearance. The 
 ship was a clipper, and gained upon us fast. As he drew 
 nearer, Captain Lamark declared that the fellow looked like 
 a rogue, for he carried guns, but could hardly be a man-of- 
 war cruising in peaceable times in that part of the ocean. 
 
 u Perhaps," said Mr. Digges, " he is a Portuguese slaver, 
 bound to some port in Brazil." 
 
 " Not very likely," remarked the captain. " If he is one 
 of, those man-stealers, he would not be steering away to the 
 northward under a scarcity of canvas, but would be making 
 a straight course for his destined port, under a press of sail. 
 He is far more likely to be a slave-ship transformed into a 
 pirate, a transformation very natural, and easily effected. 
 But in either case he must be an ugly customer, and we will 
 try to give him a wide berth, and dodge him if possible." 
 
 Orders were now given to keep the ship off a couple of 
 points, the yards were braced in and studding-sails set on 
 the larboard side, and a hand-engine was put in operation 
 for wetting the sails. There was a fine breeze, and the Ro 
 samond began to slip through the water at the rate of nine 
 or ten knots. The ship clearly did her best ; and the great 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 121 
 
 white bone she carried in her mouth, and the broad, bub 
 bling, boiling wake she left behind, were marvellous to 
 behold. 
 
 It was soon seen that our exertions were of no use. The 
 stranger gained upon the Rosamond every minute. This 
 being the case, Captain Lamark, who was distinguished for 
 energy and courage, and was seldom at a loss for resources, 
 turned his attention to the condition of his defences, not 
 knowing how soon he might have a brush with an enemy. 
 
 The Rosamond had six carriage- guns on board, not of 
 large calibre, being six-pounders, which had been well fitted 
 with breechings and gun-tackles, after the ship reached the 
 tropics, and plenty of ammunition, such as woollen car 
 tridges, rope-yarn wads, and round shot, grape, and canis 
 ter. The magazine was in the run, and contained several 
 kegs of powder. There was also on board a good supply of 
 muskets and boarding-pikes, so that a smart action could be 
 maintained so long as there were men enough to manage the 
 guns and wield the boarding-pikes. But it was manifest 
 that the Rosamond had not a sufficient armament and crew 
 to cope successfully with a piratical ship, heavily armed, 
 with abundance of men to fight. 
 
 However, Captain Lamark ordered everything to be got 
 in readiness for making a desperate resistance, provided the 
 stranger should prove to be a rogue. The guns were loaded 
 with round shot and canister. Every man knew his station. 
 The captain declared he would sooner go to the bottom 
 fighting boldly for life, than surrender like a craven, with 
 the prospect of being shot through the head, or having his 
 throat cut from car to ear, in cold blood, as soon as the ship 
 was boarded.. " Besides," said the captain, " remember that 
 pirates are always cowards, and will fight hard only when it 
 is necessary to save their necks from a halter. They never 
 attack brave men who are provided with means of defence." 
 11 
 
122 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 The strange sail continued to gain on the Rosamond, but 
 hoisted no colors, and fired no gun. Captain Lamark now 
 ordered the studding-sails and all the light sails to be taken 
 in, and the courses hauled up, thus intimating to the 
 stranger that, like a boxer who had stripped off all super 
 fluous clothing, he was ready for a fight. 
 
 The three guns from the starboard side had been shifted 
 over, and six ports having been opened, the guns were all 
 ostentatiously run out, giving the peaceable old ship a de 
 cidedly warlike aspect. Pea-jackets and hats and caps were 
 hung on handspikes, and paraded on different parts of the 
 deck, looking mavellously like men, thus recruiting a strong 
 force for the occasion with little trouble -or expense ; and 
 half a dozen of the crew with muskets showed themselves 
 on the quarter-deck, to increase the fierce and formidable 
 appearance of the American East-Indiaman. Among these 
 was Mark Rowland, who exhibited much intrepidity on the 
 occasion, and seemed eager for the fight. " Do let me have 
 a musket," said he to the captain. " I have more than once 
 brought down a gray squirrel from the top of a lofty oak, 
 and I know I can send a bullet through a pirate at more than 
 double that distance." And his request was granted. 
 
 The suspicious vessel drew nearer. . The men could be 
 seen on the decks. It appeared to be about three hundred 
 tons burden, but heavily sparred, and its masts had an unus 
 ual rake. It was evidently an armed ship, with men enough 
 to work all the guns, and to spare. It was no man-of-war, 
 for the discipline on board was very loose, as was seen by 
 , the set of the sails, the staying of the masts, and the gen 
 eral management of the ship. It was painted black, and its 
 high poop and forecastle-deck indicated that if not a slaver, 
 it had been engaged recently in the slave-trade. 
 
 The stranger having got nearly in the wake of the Rosa 
 mond, hauled close on a wind, steering a course almost par- 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 123 
 
 allcl, and keeping about half a mile off. It was an anxious 
 time. He showed no colors, thus demonstrating that he was 
 no friend in want of information or assistance. There was 
 something grim and repulsive in his very looks. He clearly 
 meant mischief, and would be restrained only by the most 
 bold and resolute conduct on the part of those brave men 
 who, unable to escape by a clean pair of heels, desperately 
 confronted him, like a stag at bay. 
 
 The stranger now slackened sail, and for some time kept 
 along at the same distance, and on the weather-beam of the 
 Indiaman, apparently undetermined what course to adopt. 
 Meanwhile, the crew of the ship, trembling with suspense 
 and excitement, but not with fear, stood boldly to their 
 guns, ready at a word or a sign from the captain to pour 
 in a broadside, and keep up the fight with the big guns, 
 muskets, and boarding-pikes, as long as a man was left to 
 load a gun or wield a weapon. 
 
 After running along in this manner some fifteen or twenty 
 minutes, the piratical craft gradually edged away ; and as 
 the course of the Rosamond was not clianged, the two vessels 
 approached each other until almost within hail, being hardly 
 a quarter of a mile apart. Mr. Digges, convinced that the 
 fellow was a pirate, and believing that if he was not, he 
 richly deserved to be chastised for his insolence, strongly 
 urged Captain Lamark to hoist the Yankee flag and give him 
 a broadside. 
 
 To this Captain Lamark objected, on the ground that there 
 had yet been no hostile demonstration. " Keep cool, keep 
 collected, Mr. Digges," said the captain, " and be ready for 
 the word ; and remember, that when we begin the work, we 
 must put it through at all hazards, like true-blue American 
 sailors ! " 
 
 The pirate captain was easily distinguished, as he stood on 
 the poop giving orders through his speaking-trumpet, and 
 
124 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 frequently using his spy-glass. He wore a striped shirt and 
 white trousers, but neither jacket nor vest ; he 'also wore a 
 bandanna kerchief loosely around his neck, and a gray cap 
 on his head. He took a close and deliberate survey, but did 
 not seem to like the appearance of the ship. Preparations 
 for a desperate resistance were too manifest to suit his pur 
 pose, which undoubtedly was booty without risk ; for pirates 
 in all ages dearly love to rob and murder, but not to fight. 
 He fired a gun to windward as a note of defiance, and with 
 out showing any flag, tacked ship, and stood away to the 
 northward under full sail. 
 
 When this manoeuvre was executed, every man on board 
 breathed easier. " We have had a narrow escape," said 
 Captain Lamark. " It was lucky for us we could show our 
 teeth, and were ready and willing to bite." 
 
 Only Mark Rowland expressed regret at the result. 
 " Oh," said he, "I should so like to have had a shot at 
 that pirate captain ! " 
 
 That the ship, whose conduct was so mysterious, was a 
 pirate, there was no doubt ; for, on the arrival of Captain 
 Lamark at the Cape of Good Hope, he learned that an Eng 
 lish sloop-of-war had sailed from Cape Town only a few days 
 before, to cruise near the equator for a pirate ship which in 
 fested the track of vessels bound to the East Indies and the 
 Brazils. This ship, formerly a slaver from Havana, was 
 commanded by a Spaniard notorious for his cruelty and 
 ferocity and deadly hatred of Britons and Americans, on 
 account of their interference with the slave-trade. For 
 these fiendish traits of character, he received, and was gen 
 erally known by, the significant appellation of " Der Teufel." 
 And before the Rosamond reached the Cape of Good Hope, 
 as will be seen hereafter, her crew met with fearful evidence 
 that some inhuman monsters were cruising in that part of 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 125 
 
 the South Atlantic, and committing startling, bloody, and 
 fiend-like deeds. 
 
 That night, in the first watch, the sailors on duty were 
 grouped together on the forecastle, talking over the incidents 
 of the day, or indulging in speculations respecting the char 
 acter of the stranger who had given them so much trouble, 
 and caused them so much perplexity and fear. 
 
 " We may thank the kind Providence that watches over 
 sailors," said Jack Radkin, " that we escaped from the 
 clutches of that fellow. If a gun had been fired on either 
 side, it would have brought on a battle, and we should have 
 come off second best, and been food for sharks long before 
 this. Those Guineamen are desperate men. I know them 
 of old. When they turn pirates, they fight like demons, and 
 massacre, in hot or cold blood, every being man, woman, 
 or child who falls into their hands." 
 
 "You know them of old?" inquired Abram Hartshorn. 
 u Were you ever in a slaver, Jack?" 
 
 " Not exactly," replied the old tar ; " but I've been in a 
 British man-of-war on a cruise after slavers, and have wit 
 nessed scenes on the coast of Guinea that gave me an in 
 sight into their character, scenes almost too horrible to 
 describe." 
 
 " What were they, Jack? Tell us all about them," clam 
 orously exclaimed his watchmates, who dearly loved a yarn, 
 and rejoiced at the prospect of having one spun by Jack 
 Radkin. 
 
 " I have already told you," said the veteran sailor, " that 
 when I was a boy, hardly knee-high to a marline-spike, I was 
 impressed, for my sins, on board an English frigate in the 
 chops of the English Channel. A few weeks afterwards, we 
 entered Plymouth, and I was drafted on board the gun-brig 
 Porcupine, commanded by Lieutenant James Throgmorton, 
 
 and mounting twelve guns, a remarkably fast vessel, bound 
 11* 
 
126 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 on a cruise to the coast of Africa, to look after the man- 
 stealing craft in that quarter, with instructions to capture 
 or destroy all we might fall in with. 
 
 " After touching at Sierra Leone, we cruised for a while 
 in the Bight of Benin, afterwards in the Gulf of Biafra; 
 and although we did not succeed in capturing any of the 
 slavers sneaking out of the creeks and lagoons, with full 
 cargoes of negroes, we had the satisfaction of knowing that 
 we prevented several suspicious-looking armed clippers from 
 stealing in. Two clipper-brigs, which, from appearances, 
 were undoubted Guineamen, being completely fitted up and 
 in readiness to receive a large cargo of darkies, we cap 
 tured, after a running fight, and sent to Sierra Leone for 
 condemnation. 
 
 " We afterwards proceeded down the coast some five hun 
 dred miles, with a view to look into Loango and Kabinda, 
 or blockade the mouth of the Congo river. We arrived off 
 Kabinda early one morning, and saw a ship in the offing, 
 which had evidently left the harbor a few hours before, with 
 all sail set, steering to the westward, with a light breeze 
 from the north-east. 
 
 "'Hallo/ said the captain, after eyeing the ship for a 
 while through his spy-glass, ' yonder is one of the rogues 
 we are after ; a ship full of negroes, real Congoes, stowed in 
 bulk ! Now we have another chance to try what stuff the 
 Porcupine is made of. Clap on every stitch of canvas that 
 will draw/ said he to the lieutenant. ' Before the blessed 
 sun sinks into his briny bed that ship must be a prize to the 
 Porcupine, and the skipper, officers, and crew, clapped in 
 double irons, as sure as my name is Throgmorton ! J 
 
 "His orders were promptly obeyed. We soon reached 
 the wake of the slave-sliip, and with an unsteady breeze, 
 directly aft, and under a cloud of sail, continued the chase. 
 
 "The slave-ship was a clipper, as is the case with all 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 127 
 
 * 
 
 vessels engaged in that detestable traffic, but was better cal 
 culated to work to windward than run before the wind. 
 While, on the contrary, the Porcupine, a fast vessel, built on 
 a different model, with a good breeze in her wake, and stud 
 ding-sails, both sides, alow and aloft, and a smooth sea, 
 would slip along through the water as fast as any ship 1 that 
 ever was built. The slaver, I've no doubt, would have 
 given all his old junk and a good part of his cargo besides^ 
 to have got the weather-gage. But it could not be. It was 
 a fair race, dead before the wind, and all he had to do 
 was to crowd on all his canvas, steer small, and trust to 
 luck and his six-pounders. 
 
 "The slaver had some six or eight miles the start, a 
 great advantage, and the wind being light, for some time 
 the result was uncertain. Captain Throgmorton was greatly 
 excited. The sails were stretched to the utmost. Impos 
 sible plans were resorted to in order to spread more canvas, 
 and set studding-sails outside of studding-sails, and if hal 
 looing, swearing, and stamping could have helped us, we 
 should have been alongside the ship in no time. 
 
 " But the breeze increased, and when in the course of half 
 an hour it became evident that we were slowly but surely 
 gaining on the chase, the captain's exultation knew no 
 bounds. c "We shall catch the rascal ! ' said he to his first 
 lieutenant. ' He cannot escape us now. See the guns all 
 loaded and double-shotted, for these desperadoes, when they 
 cannot run away, will stand at bay and fight like pirates.' 
 
 " But the wind soon afterwards died away, and for an hour 
 or two we drew no nearer. Then the breeze freshened again, 
 and then it lulled, and we had cats-paws and fresh breezes 
 by turns, until about three o'clock in the afternoon, when we 
 had approached the ship so closely that the captain ordered 
 a shot to be sent from a twelve-pounder mounted on the bow. 
 The ball passed over the ship, doing no harm, and the slaver 
 
128 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 instantly acknowledged the compliment and returned it, by 
 sending towards us the contents of his stern-chasers, which, 
 however, fell short. 
 
 " The wind, although light, was now more steady, and 
 1 Captain Throgmorton was excessively anxious to close with 
 and capture the chase before night, lest the rascal should 
 give us the slip in the dark. On the other hand, the slaver 
 left no means untried to baffle our efforts. The two guns of 
 small calibre that the ship fired from time to time from the 
 stern ports, did little or no execution, for they were badly 
 served, while it was evident that our twelve-pounder, which 
 struck the ship several times, did considerable damage, 
 making the splinters fly in every direction, and must have 
 cut off all hopes of escape. The prospect was now good 
 that Captain Throgmorton's prediction would be realized, 
 and the slave-ship would become a prize to his Majesty's 
 brig Porcupine, and all the crew in irons before night. But 
 we did not know the true character of the slavers, and could 
 not even dream of the desperate means they would resort to 
 in order to avoid being captured. 
 
 " Captain Throgmorton, who was standing on the fore 
 castle watching every movement of the slave-ship through his 
 spy-glass, suddenly gave orders in a very excited tone, and 
 apparently without a shadow of reason, ' Stand by, lads ! in 
 studding-sails ! haul up the courses ! brace up the head-yards, 
 and be handy about it ! hard a-starboard your helm, Jack ! ' 
 and in two minutes the brig was lying-to, motionless on the 
 water, with the maintop-sail aback. 
 
 " Orders were now given to man and lower away one of 
 the boats ; and the sight of several dark-looking objects in 
 the water, but a few fathoms to leeward, looking like cocoa- 
 nuts or calibasbes bobbing up and down, gave us a glimpse 
 of the cause of this strange proceeding. It seems that the 
 black-hearted villain, finding we were fast overhauling him, 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 129 
 
 had thrown overboard some half a dozen negroes, knowing 
 that they could sw r im, and that we, through a feeling of hu 
 manity, would heave-to, get out our boats, and pick them 
 up, while in the mean time the ship would be sailing onward, 
 and rapidly increasing the distance between us. 
 
 " The trick was successful. The poor negroes were saved, 
 and brought on board the Porcupine, and then in a jiffey we 
 were again under all sail in chas*e. On again drawing near the 
 ship, the trick .was repeated, with the same result. It now 
 looked as if the slaver might manage in this way to avoid 
 capture until dark, and perhaps in the end make his escape. 
 
 " But Captain Throgmorton was not to be thus cheated 
 out of his prize. At the third time of heaving-to, he or 
 dered the launch to be hoisted out, and manned by an officer 
 and eight seamen, with orders to pick up all the negroes he 
 could find, and follow in the wake of the brig. He declared 
 that he would not heave-to again, if the whole cargo of 
 blacks was thrown overboard ; that it was better even to 
 sacrifice a few lives, than allow such an unmitigated villain 
 as the commander of that vessel must be, to escape the pun 
 ishment he deserved. 
 
 " So we sailed straight on for the ship, and as the breeze 
 increased, drew towards it, hand over hand. Meanwhile the 
 slaver continued to pitch negroes overboard, and the launch 
 astern was busily employed in picking them up. "We kept 
 peppering the slaver with our bow-guns, and, giving an occa 
 sional yaw, would let fly a whole broadside, which cut up her 
 rigging, must have made bloody work with the crew, and 
 finally tumbled the maintop-mast over the side, and put an 
 end to the chase. The ship, whose guns had been silenced 
 for the last half hour, now rounded to, and hoisted a Portu 
 guese flag, and immediately hauled it down, in token of 
 surrender. * . 
 
 44 In a few minutes both vessels were lying-to, almost 
 
130 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 within hail of each other, and a boat with an officer and 
 a large party of armed men was dispatched from the Por 
 cupine to take possession of the slave-ship. The boat 
 reached the side of the ship, and the men were mounting the 
 gangway ladder, when Captain Throgmorton and all the 
 Porcupine's crew were gazing eagerly at the slaver, anxious 
 to see what kind of a reception our friends would meet with. 
 
 " We were not long kept in suspense. Just as the offi 
 cer was stepping over the gangway, with the boat's-crew 
 at his heels, a dense volume of smoke rose suddenly 
 from the quarter-deck, followed by a cloud of masts, sails, 
 timbers, and human beings, some of which were shot high 
 into the air, and others were spread out on every side, and 
 then fell in a fearful shower, disturbing the ocean for half a 
 mile around. 
 
 " The captain of the slave-ship, finding there were no 
 hopes of escape, and being a desperate ruffian, crazy with 
 disappointment and rage, had fired the powder in the maga 
 zine, and blown the ship sky-high. 
 
 " The explosion was an awful one. It made old ocean 
 tremble for miles around, and actually shook the timbers of 
 the Porcupine. The brig was 'still shaking when the sky 
 above us seemed to open, deluging our decks with pieces of 
 wreck, showers of gore, and human trunks and limbs. 
 
 " The slaver had a ship's company consisting of thirty- 
 five men, all told, belonging to half a dozen nations, and 
 was commanded by a Portuguese named Pedro Martinez, 
 and bound for San Salvador in the Bay of All Saints. There 
 was a full cargo on board, consisting of six hundred negroes, 
 who all perished by this dreadful explosion, excepting about 
 a half dozen, who were drawn out from among the fragments 
 of the wreck, some of them badly wounded, and those who 
 were thrown overboard during the chase, and picked up by 
 our boats. Only one of the ship's company was saved ; and 
 
EXCITING SCENES. 131 
 
 he was found clinging to a spar, with his thigh broken. Of 
 the officer and boat's crew who boarded the slaver, no trace 
 was ever discovered. 
 
 "So much for these slave-ships, shipmates. And when 
 such fellows turn pirates, and hoist the black flag, you may 
 imagine what demons they become, and how terrible would 
 be our fate if we should fall into such hands. May the 
 time never come when we shall be compelled to call upon 
 such monsters for mercy ! " 
 
 " I say amen to that," exclaimed Bob Randy. 
 
 " So say we all," added his watch-mates. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE WORK OF DEMONS. 
 
 ON the evening after the exciting chase and preparations 
 made for fighting for life, described in the foregoing chapter, 
 the captain and mates were talking over the affair on the 
 quarter-deck, while the ship was slipping along through the 
 water at the rate of six or seven knots. 
 
 " Captain Lamark, that was a bright idea of yours," said 
 Mr. Digges, the chief mate, " that of dressing up the hand 
 spikes with pea-jackets and caps, and thus doubling the 
 number of our crew." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Hawkins ; "it must have been that 
 which frightened the pirate. He was afraid to board us in 
 the face of such a number of desperate men, well armed and 
 fighting for their lives. Not wishing to risk the loss of half 
 his crew, he wisely made off, and left us alone in our glory." 
 
 " The scheme was a good one," said the captain. " I had 
 seen it tried before. This is not the first time I have fallen 
 in with a pirate." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Mr. Digges. 
 
 " By no means," replied Captain Lamark, "and he was 
 driven off by bluff and bravado, by handspikes and women 
 transformed into sailors, and a living ' Long Tom/ 
 
 "A living Long Tom? Surely, sir," exclaimed Mr. 
 Digges, " you mean a wooden one." 
 
 " No such a thing," said the captain. " I will tell you 
 
 132 
 
THE WORK OF DEMONS. 133 
 
 how the affair took place. When I was a youngster, I 
 shipped as an ordinary seaman on board the schooner Dan 
 delion, bound from Charleston to Matanzas with a cargo of 
 rice. The schooner was a good-looking vessel, with a flush 
 deck, and sat deeply in the water, and being painted black 
 made quite an imposing appearance. But although a good 
 sailing vessel, she had no pretensions to being a clipper. 
 
 " The Dandelion was commanded by a little man with a 
 long name, Cornelius Montgomery Duncannon. He was 
 small in size, but full of energy and spirit. He was alive all 
 over, in his muscles and bones, as well as in his brains and 
 heart. Besides the captain, there belonged to the schooner* 
 the mate, Mr. Ramsey, four seamen, a boy, and a cook. 
 There were also eight passengers on board, three gentle 
 men and five ladies, the whole number of persons on board 
 being sixteen. 
 
 44 Although many piracies had been committed on the coast 
 of Cuba, the Dandelion was furnished with no means of de 
 fence ; but was destitute of large guns, boarding-pikes, and 
 cutlasses. Her sole stock of arms and ammunition consisted 
 of three rusty muskets, and a flask of damaged powder. 
 
 " Off the Double-Headed Shot Keys, however, the folly and 
 guilt of going to sea without arms became manifest. At 
 sunrise one morning, a small schooner, long and low, with 
 rakish masts, and a snakish appearance, with two or more 
 guns run out of her port-holes, and her decks crowded with 
 men, was descried leaving the Salt-Cay Bank, and making a 
 straight course for the Dandelion. It was as clear as a 
 moonlight night in Baffin's Cay, that mischief was afoot. 
 
 " The news was soon spread through the vessel that a pirate 
 was in chase of the Dandelion, under full sail, and rapidly 
 coming up. Great was the commotion on board. There 
 was no occasion to call all hands ; every man was on deck 
 gazing at the schooner, almost before Captain Duncannon 
 12 
 
134 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 had made her out through the spy-glass. The passengers, 
 also, impelled by fear and curiosity, tumbled upon deck, 
 scantily clad, and huddled around the captain, eagerly ask 
 ing if that vessel was really a pirate. 
 
 " Captain Duncannon told them candidly that there was 
 cause for alarm ; that the vessel undoubtedly was a pirate, 
 with intentions to board the Dandelion and commit outrages 
 on property and life ; that he hardly knew how he could pre 
 vent it, as he could neither fight nor run ; that he would try, 
 however, to disappoint the demons, and might perhaps hit 
 upon some pretext or plan to frighten the rascals, and save 
 "the schooner, with the lives and property entrusted to his 
 care. 
 
 " i I was a fool and a blockhead/ said Captain Duncannon, 
 striking his forehead with his fist, ' to leave Charleston with 
 out something in ihe shape of a gun. If we had only a son 
 of a gun on board, or even a Quaker, it would be better 
 than nothing. We might manage to make the fellow think 
 it was Long Tom, when such is their dread of that gentle 
 man, that he would wear round on his "heel, get on the other 
 tack, and clear out like the Flying Dutchman in a gale of 
 wind. Oh, if we only had a Long Tom, although it were a 
 wooden one ! ' 
 
 " ' Long Tom? ' echoed Mr. Ramsay, the mate ; ' a wood 
 en one ? 'Why would not a living one answer ? Long Living 
 ston would make a better one than was ever hewed out of a 
 block of wood ! ' 
 
 " ' Long Livingston ! ' shouted the skipper, in a voice of 
 exultation, while the "clouds vanished from his brow like a 
 fog before a sunbeam off Cape Sable. < Long Livingston ! 
 The very thing. Mr. Ramsay, you are a trump, and I was 
 a ninny not to have thought of it myself. Long Livingston 
 was fashioned by nature for a Long Tom. I have it now, 
 and if I do not astonish those fellows I am mistaken, that's all/ 
 
THE WORK OF DEMONS. 135 
 
 " Long Livingston was the name given to one of the sailors, 
 a tall, simple, ungainly looking Yankee, from 4 down east/ 
 His real name was Jacob Livingston ; but on account of his 
 height, being about six feet and a half, and remarkably slim, 
 he was known on board by no other name than Long Living 
 ston. He was a good-natured, harmless fellow, a standing 
 target for a joke, and took in good part the shafts of wit that 
 were from time to time levelled at him from every man on 
 board. 
 
 " Captain Duncannon, with: that alacrity in ferreting out 
 and adopting resources which is peculiar to men of genius, 
 at once seized upon the hint which his mate had given, and 
 at the same time seized upon Livingston himself, with the 
 laudable determination to transform that tall and interesting 
 specimen of salt-water humanity into a c Long Tom/ Liv 
 ingston was astonished at being so suddenly changed from a 
 quiet, peaceful, inoffensive sailor, into a formidable weapon 
 of war, whose mission it was to pour forth vengeance, fury, 
 fire, and brimstone, on the enemy. He made no objection, 
 however. If Captain Duncannon thought he should make a 
 good Long Tom, he had nothing to say against it. 
 
 " It happened, fortunately for those on board the Dande 
 lion, that the wind was far to the northward, and the schoon 
 er was now running along with a five or six knot breeze, 
 with the main boom guyed out on the larboard quarter. The 
 pirate vessel being under the lee, those on board were unable 
 to see any of the doings between the fore and main-mast of 
 the schooner. Under Captain Duncannon' s directions a plat 
 form was laid on the long boat in a marvellous short time. 
 On the centre of this platform a log of wood, about two and 
 a half feet long, sawed square off at each end, was placed 
 upright and securely fixed. On the upper end a plank about 
 seven feet long was placed horizontally. This plank was 
 fastened to the top of the log, which acted as a pivot by a 
 
136 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 bolt, so that the position of the plank, that is, the direction 
 in which it pointed, could be changed at will. To this 
 plank long, Livingston was lashed, having on his head a 
 Scotch cap, which bore a strong resemblance to the muzzle 
 of a big gun. A piece of rattlin stuff was tied to his heels, 
 by hauling on which, this formidable piece of artillery, so 
 promptly manufactured, and christened ; Long Tom/ could 
 be slewed round like a teetotum. 
 
 " This work was soon accomplished, for when a man's life 
 is at stake, it is astonishing how lively he works ; all his 
 faculties seem sharpened, and he becomes endowed with ten 
 fold more ingenuity, skill, intellect, and muscle, than he 
 ever before dreamed of possessing. 
 
 "While the process of manufacturing a live twenty-four- 
 pounder was going on, another change, almost as great, was 
 taking place in another quarter. Agreeably to a hint from 
 Captain Duncannon, caps, tarpaulin hats, and checked 
 shirts, were in demand, and almost before a leadsman could 
 sing out, * By the deep nine/ the eight passengers, and as 
 *many handspikes, were transformed into sixteen trig-looking 
 sailors, all of them, apparently, ready and able to fight des 
 perately for their lives. The ladies were frightened, it must 
 be confessed, and looked shockingly pale, and two of them 
 could hardly stand without assistance. Nevertheless, they 
 and .the masquerading handspikes were stationed at points 
 where they could show to the most advantage, and helped to 
 swell the numbers of the crew to a very respectable extent. 
 
 " The transformation effected, and Long Tom finished, 
 Captain Duncannon ordered a barrel, with the head knocked 
 out, to be placed in the waist, and stationed three men near 
 it with the loaded muskets, and orders to put the muzzles 
 within the barrels, and, when the word was given, fire ! He 
 also stationed a couple of men in the top-mast cross-trees, 
 each with a bucket of dry ashes, with instructions to 
 
THE WORK OF DEMONS. 137 
 
 empty the buckets and scatter the ashes in every direction, 
 the moment the order to fire was given. 
 
 " By this time the suspicious-looking vessel, that glided 
 through the water like a dolphin after a ballyhoo, had ap 
 proached within a mile of the Dandelion, and, with his spy 
 glass, Captain Duncannon could see all the doings on deck, 
 which left no doubt on his mind that the vessel was a pirate, 
 well armed, and with her decks full of men. 
 
 " He saw that no time was to be lost, and, after a word of 
 encouragement to the green hands he had just shipped, he 
 gave orders to jibe ship. The main peak was dropped, the 
 helm put a-starboard, and the top-sail yard squared; the 
 schooner fell off rapidly, soon took the breeze on the other 
 quarter, and in a minute and a half was standing to the east 
 ward, nearly close-hauled, and the pirate about four points 
 on the weather-bow. ' Long Tom ' was plainly in sight from 
 the pirate's decks ; also the somewhat numerous crew, sta 
 tioned in groups at different points, and apparently ready, 
 not only to repel boarders, but, when the time came, to 
 board in their turn. 
 
 " At this critical moment Captain Duncannon wared his 
 hand ostentatiously, as if to command attention, and shout 
 ed, in a loud voice, ' FIRE ! ' The muskets were discharged 
 into the empty barrels, making a loud reverberating noise, 
 and at the same moment the ashes were scattered in mid-air 
 by the sailors in the cross-trees ; and the imitation of a vast 
 volume of smoke, belching forth from the muzzle of Long 
 Tom, was perfect. 
 
 " The stars and stripes were now proudly waving from the 
 peak, and Long Tom was trailed and managed, as if with 
 the intention of giving the pirate a shot in earnest. But 
 this was hardly necessary. The smoke had not cleared 
 away, before the pirate, who, believing he ' had caught a 
 
 Tartar/ and was terribly frightened at such a display of war- 
 02* 
 
138 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 like force and courage, tacked ship, clapped on all sail, and 
 made tracks for the Salt-Key Bank as fast as possible, 
 doubtless expecting every minute to be hailed by a twenty- 
 four-pound shot from the muzzle of Long Tom. 
 
 " The shot was not sent. The Dandelion continued the 
 pursuit a short time, and then resumed her course. Long 
 Livingston was released from his confinement to the plank, 
 and highly and deservedly complimented for the admirable 
 and successful manner in which he had enacted the impor 
 tant part allotted him in the engagement with the pirates ; 
 the handspikes were stripped of their hats and jackets ; the 
 ladies doffed their sailor's garbs, and resumed their more 
 comely feminine attire, and .one of them, a lively, laughing, 
 frolicsome girl of eighteen summers, who had been terribly 
 frightened during the chase, was so impressed with the mag 
 nitude of her obligations to Long Livingston, that she 
 reached up her white arms, and, clasping him around the 
 neck, gave him a hearty kiss. Livingston was astonished, 
 and grinned with delight at such a rich and unexpected 
 mark of approbation, and declared himself fully repaid for 
 all the inconvenience he had suffered from being so long 
 lashed to a plank. The next day we arrived safely in Ma- 
 tanzas." 
 
 " There is nothing like wisdom gained from experience," 
 was the sententious remark of Mr. Digges.' 
 
 " Yes," remarked Mr. Hawkins ; " experience and sound, 
 practical, old-fashioned, common sense will do wonders 
 sometimes." 
 
 On the day after the adventure with the pirate, in the 
 middle of the afternoon, one of the men at work on the fore 
 castle shouted aloud, " Sail ho ! On the lee bow ! " 
 
 The sail was soon made out to be a brig, not more than 
 five or six miles off, and her -appearance was quite remark 
 able and alarming. She seemed to be steering no particular 
 
THE WORK OF DEMONS. 139 
 
 course, but was not lying-to. Her sails were flying loose in 
 every direction ; her maintop-mast was broken short off in 
 the middle, ; her studding-booms were still rigged out for 
 ward, with the studding sails hanging in mid-air. The brig 
 was abandoned to the winds and the waves ; there was 
 clearly no controlling power on board. 
 
 Captain Lamark took a keen survey of the brig through 
 his glass, and then mused for a few minutes in silence, when 
 his eye kindled, and an unwonted expression of ferocity 
 rested on his features. 
 
 "What do you make her out to be, sir?" inquired Mr. 
 Digges. " She seems to be acting rather queerly." 
 
 k< There's more there than meets the eye," said Mr. Haw 
 kins. 
 
 " There is, indeed ! " remarked Captain Lamark, in a deep 
 and solemn tone. " That brig has been boarded by pirates!" 
 and turning round, he called aloud to the helmsman, " Keep 
 her off, Jack, two or three points. So ! That will do. 
 Steer directly for that vessel ahead. Mr. Digges, we'll take 
 a pull of the weather-braces." 
 
 " But, Captain Lamark," said Mr. Digges, in a remon 
 strating tone, " don't you think there may be danger in " 
 
 "Brace in the yards, Mr. Digges!" responded the cap 
 tain, in a voice of thunder, " Danger ! "Who cares for dan 
 ger in a time like this ? I tell you that the pirate we fell in 
 with yesterday has been busy at his bloody work ; but we 
 may not be too late to save the lives of some of his unfortu 
 nate victims." 
 
 The Rosamond with a free wind now went rapidly through 
 the water, and in little more than half an hour had approached 
 almost within hail of the brig ; but not a human being was 
 seen on her decks ; yet ever and anon a loud and prolonged 
 moan, half scream and half howl, a most unearthly and 
 
140 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 uncanny sound, came across the water from the direction of 
 the brig, and sent a chill through every heart. 
 
 "What is the meaning of that wild and hideous cry?" 
 exclaimed the captain. 
 
 " It is hard to say, sir," replied Mr. Hawkins ; " but with 
 your leave I'll go and see." 
 
 Orders were now given to heave the ship to; and in a 
 few minutes the second mate, with four stout sailors, in the 
 ship's yawl, was rapidly going towards the brig. As they 
 drew near, shot-holes in the counter, and the shattered con 
 dition of the bulwarks, as well as the broken top-mast and 
 fluttering sails, all told a fearful tale which could not be 
 misunderstood of a running fight and a desperate but boot 
 less resistance. 
 
 The loud unnatural sound, an unequivocal signal of dis 
 tress, which had been heard from time to time before the 
 boat left the brig, was now kept up without ceasing, and 
 became frightfully discordant. The men looked hard at Mr. 
 Hawkins, and slackened their labors as if wishing and 
 expecting him to forego his intention to board the brig. 
 
 But the ma.te seemed all the more eager to be alongside. 
 " Give way, my lads, and never heed that noise," said he, 
 encouragingly. " Music like that, although it grates harshly 
 on the ear, can break no bones ! Ah ! I understand it all 
 now ! There is one honest fellow alive on board that brig, 
 at all events ; and he is telling. us in his way a woful story." 
 
 The men turned their heads towards the brig, and their 
 fears vanished, when they saw standing with his fore-paws 
 on the taffrail and stretching his head over the water towards 
 the boat, a large black Newfoundland dog, whose incessant 
 cries and howls had been the cause of their alarm. 
 
 " There has been terrible work here ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Hawkins, as the boat ranged alongside the brig. 
 
 At that moment the dog leaped over the bulwarks, and 
 
THE WORK OF DEMONS. 141 
 
 came tumbling down into the boat, and sprang upon the 
 men, licking their faces, wagging his tail and yelping with 
 delight. 
 
 "Harry Linsay," said the mate, "stay in the boat and 
 take care of her. The rest of you, follow me ! " and he 
 climbed up the side of the brig and over the bulwarks, closely 
 followed by the men. 
 
 And a dreadful sight they beheld, A bloody conflict had 
 taken place. The scuppers were even then streaming with 
 gore. The bodies of four men lay about the decks disfigured 
 with ghastly gun-shot or sabre wounds. Two men, probably 
 officers of .the brig, were found each lashed to a plank, which 
 had been set in an upright position and secured to the fife- 
 rail, and made to serve as living targets for the'pirates. The 
 heads and bodies were perforated with dozens of pistol 
 bullets. 
 
 The long-boat had been removed, and the hatchways taken 
 off. The cargo had been broken into. The cabin doors 
 were open, and Mr. Hawkins, after asking in a loud voice if 
 there was any living person on board, and receiving no 
 reply, passed down the cabin stairs into the cabin. On the 
 cabin floor, near the doorway, lay the body of a' man, whose 
 dress and appearance indicated that he was the captain of 
 the brig. His arms were pinioned, and his throat was cut 
 from ear to ear. 
 
 Scattered over the floor were a woman's garments, and on 
 the farther part of the cabin floor, at the entrance of a state 
 room, was the dead body of a woman, young and beautiful, 
 almost entirely destitute of clothing, with a deep wound in 
 her bosom, her long hair dishevelled and dabbled in blood, 
 and an expression of horror on her features, which once seen 
 could never be forgotten. 
 
 The cabin had been ransacked by the pirates ; trunks and 
 chests broken open, and doubtless everything of value 
 
142 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 / 
 
 carried away. Mr. Hawkins found the log-book on th& 
 transom, from which it appeared that the brig was the 
 Angelica, Captain Melton, belonging to Bristol, in England, 
 and bound from Montevideo to London. It appeared, ac 
 cording to the latest date in the log-book, that hardly eight- 
 and-forty hours had elapsed since the pirates, after a des 
 perate engagement, for tjie brig carried two carriage-guns, 
 and probably was well furnished with muskets, gained pos 
 session of the vessel, killed or threw overboard all her crew, 
 and committed other outrages too atrocious to record. 
 
 The brig appeared to be in a sinking condition, doubtless 
 owing to a shot between wind and water, and Mr. Hawkins, 
 finding that nothing could be done to keep her afloat, and 
 that all the unfortunate men who composed the crew had 
 been suddenly sent by the bloody-minded wretches to render 
 their accounts at the judgment-seat of God, took the log-book 
 under his arm, ordered the men, who had been standing on 
 deck, paralyzed with horror, into the boat, and accompanied 
 by the faithful, terrified, half-starved Newfoundland dog, 
 returned to the ship. 
 
 Captain Lamark listened in silence to Mr. Hawkins, while 
 he narrated the shocking scenes he had witnessed on board 
 the brig. He was greatly moved, and shuddered as he 
 thought how narrowly he himself and the gallant men who 
 composed his crew, and looked to him for advice and pro 
 tection, had escaped a similar fate. " Mr. Hawkins," said 
 he, suddenly, " the brig will doubtless soon be full of water ; 
 but it does not follow that the hulk will immediately sink. 
 If there is a buoyant cargo in the hold, it may be floating 
 about for months, to the great danger of vessels navigating 
 these seas. Besides, such a terrible evidence of human 
 wickedness, ought to be removed from the sight of day as 
 soon as possible. Therefore, man the boat once more and 
 
THE WORK OP DEMONS. 143 
 
 go back to that ill-fated vessel ; take a lantern with you, and 
 set her on fire." 
 
 The captain's orders were promptly obeyed ; and when the 
 boat left the ling the second time, smoke was seen issuing 
 from various parts of the vessel, and soon a livid stream of 
 light crept aloft, and the whole vessel was in flames. 
 
 The Rosamond stood on her course towards the Cape of 
 Good Hope ; but long after the sun had sank beneath the 
 horizon, the light of the burning vessel could be seen illu 
 minating the atmosphere and the surface of the water for 
 miles around. But through the night a cloud rested on the 
 minds of the crew of the ship ; and silent prayers went up to 
 heaven for the souls of those who had been so ruthlessly 
 murdered, and grateful thanksgivings for their own preser 
 vation from a terrible death at the hands of the pirates. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 
 
 THE Rosamond continued her course to the southward, 
 close-hauled on the wind, which for several days blew stead 
 ily from the south-east. But soon after leaving the tropics 
 the trade-wind failed, and variable winds exerted their 
 power. Mr. Hawkins, in the night watches, pointed out 
 and explained to Mark Rowland the marked changes in the 
 aspect of the heavenly bodies ; the splendid constellation of 
 the Southern Cross, and those wild and weird-looking phe 
 nomena known as the Magellan clouds. The cape pigeons 
 also began to come round the ship, and with a hook baited 
 with a piece of pork, and attached to a line thrown over the 
 stern, several of the foolish birds were caught, and served up 
 in a sea-pie, which was not altogether to the liking of Mark, 
 for it had a most ancient and fish-like flavor. As they drew 
 towards the cape, the large, stately-looking albatrosses, 
 some with wings extending twelve or fifteen feet across from 
 tip to tip, were numerous, flying or floating in the wake of 
 the ship, hoping, and not always in vain, to pick up savory 
 morsels that had been thrown overboard. 
 
 One afternoon, as the ship was quietly proceeding on her 
 way with a fair wind and a smooth sea, the man at the 
 wheel created quite a sensation by crying out, " A shark ! " 
 and on looking in the direction in which he pointed, the dor 
 sal fin and part of the tail of a large fish were seen above 
 the water. 
 
 144 
 
A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 145 
 
 "Where's the shark-hook?" exclaimed Mr. Hawkins, 
 with his accustomed energy ; " cook, bring along a piece of 
 pork from the harness-cask." 
 
 The captain, corning on deck at that moment, put a damp 
 er on the ardor of the second mate. " Tis of no use, Mr. 
 Hawkins," said he, after taking a look at the strange fish. 
 " That is no shark, but a sword-fish ; and they seldom take 
 the hook." 
 
 Mr. Hawkins, however, baited the hook and threw it over 
 board, and towed it astern for a while, but it had no attrac 
 tions for the stranger, who swam along near the surface, in 
 a course parallel to that of the ship, and eight or ten fath 
 oms off, for a few minutes, and, then disappeared, to the 
 great disappointment and disgust of the mate, who took in 
 tense delight in hooking or spearing the prowling inhab 
 itants of the deep. 
 
 About two hours afterwards, just at the beginning of twi 
 light, the ship experienced a sudden shock, as if the bottom 
 had come in contact with some hard substance. Every man 
 felt the jar, and sprang to his feet ; while those who were 
 below hastened on deck. Captain Lamark rushed up from 
 the cabin, and, addressing the two officers, who were stand 
 ing on the quarter-deck, said, " Mr. Digges, Mr. Hawkins, 
 what does this mean? Has the ship struck a rock, or a 
 shoal, or a sunken wreck? Get up the deep sea-lead, and 
 we will take a sound." 
 
 In a few minutes, while Mr. Hawkins was 'getting in 
 readiness the sounding apparatus, the captain remarked in a 
 more quiet tone, "It is hardly^ worth while to sound, for 
 there is no sign of breakers, and, if there is any truth in the 
 charts, there is neither rock nor shoal within hundreds of 
 miles." 
 
 The lead, however, was thrown overboard, but no bottom 
 was found with one hundred and twenty fathoms of line. 
 
 13 
 
146 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 All at once Captain Lamark struck his forehead violently 
 with his fist. " I have it now ! " he cried. " It was that 
 confounded sword-fish ! He has mistaken the peaceable Ro 
 samond for a pugnacious sperm whale, and, with his horn, 
 has struck the bottom of the ship with what he intended 
 should be a mortal blow. But I trust he has got the worst 
 of it." 
 
 That evening Mark Rowland, who had never before heard 
 of a sword-fish, and whose curiosity was greatly excited, 
 made some inquiries of Captain Lamark relative to the ap 
 pearance and habits of this bold animal, which, without any 
 provocation, would venture to attack a ship or a whale. 
 
 " The sword-fish," said Captain Lamark, " is occasionally 
 met with in every sea ; but more frequently on soundings 
 than in deep water. One of its favorite haunts is the shoals 
 off the island of Nantucket. It is also often seen on St. 
 George's Bank. It is quite a large fish, measuring from 
 nine to fifteen feet in length, and sometimes weighing six 
 hundred pounds. From its upper jaw a horn, or sword, as 
 it is called, projects two or three feet, according to the size 
 of the fish, and gives a name to the animal. This horn is 
 pointed, and is composed of a hard, fibrous substance, bear 
 ing but little resemblance to ivory. It does not seem to be 
 of any use to its owner in procuring food, as this fish feeds 
 principally on mackerel, herring, flying-fish, and other small 
 Varieties of the inhabitants of the deep. Nor can this sword 
 be regarded as a necessary weapon of defence, for such is 
 the size, strength, and activity of the sword-fish, that it 
 need fear no attack from any fish that swims. And unless 
 we look upon it as an ornament, we must regard it as a 
 strictly offensive weapon, as it probably is. 
 
 " It is generally believed that the sword-fish is the mortal 
 enemy of the whale, and attacks him with great fury, with 
 out provocation, whenever they meet, plunging his sword 
 
A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 147 
 
 into the throat in such a manner that the water is soon dyed 
 red with the blood of his -victim, whose convulsive exertions 
 to escape from his vindictive enemy are vain ; and, con 
 quered by a comparatively weak and humble opponent, he 
 dies ignobly. 
 
 " This is an unamiable trait in the character of the sword- 
 fish, and there are those who contend that injustice is done 
 him in this respect. It is nevertheless confirmed by the fact 
 that the sword-fish will sometimes strike the bottom of a 
 ship with great violence, which can only be accounted for on 
 the supposition that the fish mistakes the ship for some huge 
 monster which he is in the habit of regarding as a mortal 
 foe. The sword-fish has been known to attack a ship with 
 such desperate violence as to thrust his horn through the 
 planks, even into the hold of the vessel ; but as the fish can 
 not disengage it, the horn of course is broken off, doubtless 
 greatly to the rage and mortification of the fish, and remains 
 in the plank into which he had so unthinkingly thrust it, 
 and thus plugs up the hole it had made. 
 
 "The fishermen living on the islands lying to the south 
 ward of Cape Cod, take a considerable number of sword-fish 
 every season. As this fish swims near the surface, and his 
 back-fin sticks sometimes a foot out of water, he is easily 
 discovered. Not being a shy fish, he is generally captured 
 by striking him with a harpoon, to which a strong line is at 
 tached, a feat which requires considerable skill ; and some 
 times he is taken with a strong line and halibut-hook, using 
 a mackerel for bait. The flesh of the sword-fish is consid 
 ered good eating, and a couple of hundred barrels are taken 
 every year by the fishermen of Nantucket and Martha's 
 Vineyard, cut into slices, pickled, or salted and sold. 
 
 " I have no doubt," said Captain Lamark, in concluding 
 his remarks about the sword-fish, " that when we discharge 
 
148 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 our cargo in Table Bay, we shall find a sword as long as 
 my arm sticking in the ship's bottom ! " 
 
 And the captain was not far out of the way. "When the 
 cargo was discharged it was found difficult to disengage 
 from its resting-place on the ceiling, near the kelson, a large 
 box containing furniture. When it was at last wrenched 
 away, it was found that the horn of the sword-fish had 
 passed through the copper sheathing of the ship and a three- 
 inch oak plank, between a couple of timbers, and through 
 another plank, two and a half inches in thickness, and had 
 penetrated the box, pinning a bureau to the position as 
 signed it by the stevedores. 
 
 As the Rosamond approached the Cape of Good Hope, the 
 weather, which had been tempestuous, became moderate, 
 with light breezes from the eastward. Such weather Vas 
 unusual in that quarter, and did not correspond with the 
 name given to it by that bold navigator, Bartholomew Diaz, 
 who discovered it in the fifteenth century, and in conse 
 quence of the furious tempests which continually raged in 
 that vicinity, called it Cabo Tormentoso, the Cape of 
 Storms. 
 
 One day, when about a couple of days' sail from Cape 
 Town, and just as Captain Lamark had proclaimed that it 
 was twelve o'clock, and Mr. Hawkins had ordered the cook 
 to give the men their dinner, Jack Radkin, who was at the 
 wheel, said to the captain, in a tone tremulous through ex 
 citement, " Captain Lamark, there is something in the water, 
 there ahead. I believe it is a boat ! " 
 
 The captain called to the steward for his spy-glass, and 
 ran forward to the forecastle to obtain a better view. The 
 object proved to be a boat floating on the water, not half a 
 mile off, and directly ahead. As no persons were seen in 
 the boat, an idea prevailed that it must be a ship's yawl, 
 which perhaps was washed away from the davits in a gale 
 
A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 149 
 
 of wind. Nevertheless, Captain Lamark very properly de 
 termined to pass as closely to it as possible, and slacken 
 sail, that he might inspect it more thoroughly. Accord 
 ingly, the courses were hauled up, and the top-gallant sails 
 settled down on the caps. 
 
 This was hardly done, when a man's hat was seen to rise 
 slowly above the gunwale of the boat, and be gently waved, 
 while the man himself could not be seen. The sensation 
 among the crew of the Rosamond, caused by this action, can 
 hardly be conceived. The feeble wave of the hat, by the 
 hardly uplifted hand, told a thrilling tale of long suffering, 
 starvation, and helplessness. 
 
 " Mr. Hawkins," said Captain Lamark, " take a couple of 
 hands and clear away the stern-boat, and get it all ready to 
 be lowered. And stand by, men, to lay the main topsail to 
 the mast." 
 
 In a few minutes the ship's progress through the water 
 was stopped, and the fugitive boat was under the lee but a 
 few fathoms distant. At this moment, a human head was 
 lifted above the gunwale, and a human countenance was 
 exhibited, at the sight of which every man shuddered with 
 horror. The features were ghastly pale, wrinkled, almost 
 fleshless, and distorted with agony ; the eyes were preter- 
 naturally large, bloodshot, and glaring, giving an expression 
 to the features which seemed the very incarnation of despair 
 and insanity. 
 
 As the ship was slowly surging past, Mr. Digges threw a 
 rope into the boat, and told the man to lay hold of it ; but 
 the wretched being was too weak to make the slightest effort 
 for the preservation of his life. A moment afterwards, and 
 Mr. Hawkins was alongside the boat in the ship's yawl. He 
 found it half full of water, and the dead body of a man in a 
 sailor's dress was washing about in the bottom of the boat, 
 while the miserable object which had exhibited signs of life, 
 
 13* 
 
150 MAtfK ROWLAND. 
 
 reclining on the after-thwart, in vain attempted to speak, but 
 could only indicate by signs that his throat was too parched 
 to utter an articulate sound. 
 
 With great care and no little difficulty, Mr. Hawkins suc 
 ceeded in transferring the living skeleton to the yawl, and in 
 a few minutes he was conveyed to the ship, passed up the 
 gangway, and safely landed on the quarter-deck. Eestora- 
 tives were promptly administered, and small quantities of 
 nourishing food ; and under the judicious management of 
 Captain Lamark, the poor suffering sailor, who, when fallen 
 in with, seemed in the very last extremity, gradually recov 
 ered his health. Some days, however, elapsed before he was 
 able to give a connected sketch of the circumstances which 
 brought him to the unhappy condition from which he was so 
 providentially rescued. 
 
 It appeared, from his account, that his name was James 
 Maltby, and that he belonged to an English brig lying at 
 anchor in Table Bay. One Sunday afternoon, Maltby and 
 a shipmate named Edward Cope obtained leave of the mate 
 to go ashore in the small boat, on condition of returning in 
 the course of an hour. But on shore they fell in with some 
 jovial companions, freely partook of the intoxicating cup, 
 forgot their promise to the mate, and abandoned themselves 
 to dissipation. 
 
 The approaching darkness, however, reminded them of 
 their neglect of duty, and they staggered down towards the 
 jetty, and entered the boat with the intention of going on 
 board the brig. Cope, however, was too far gone to pull an 
 oar, and stretching himself in the bottom of the boat, soon 
 fell asleep. Maltby then thrust his oar over the stern and 
 began to scull, but making a false movement, he lost over 
 board his oar. He then relinquished all further efforts to 
 reach the brig, and followed the example of his companion. 
 The boat drifted out to sea, and on awakening to a sense of 
 
A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 151 
 
 their condition, the next morning, the two men found them 
 selves eight or ten miles from the land, with the wind off 
 shore, without sails or a scrap of provisions, and with only 
 one oar to aid them in returning to Table. Bay. They con 
 tinued in sight of the high mountains abo'ut the cape for two 
 days, but on the morning of the third day found themselves 
 in the midst of the South Atlantic Ocean, no land in sight, 
 destitute of food or drink, without a compass, and drifting 
 about at the mercy of the winds and waves. 
 
 This was only the beginning of their sufferings, which 
 were soon greater than one would suppose human nature 
 could bear. Once or twice they caught a little water, when 
 it rained, in the bottom of the boat ; but it Was so mixed 
 with salt water, that it tended rather to increase than as 
 suage their thirst. After having been five days on tjie 
 water, and meeting with no vessel, they gave up all hope, 
 and resolved to meet, with due resignation, the dreadful 
 death that seemed inevitable, comforting themselves with 
 the reflection that the boat would probably be picked up, 
 and their dead bodies prove that they did not wilfully desert 
 from their vessel. They pledged themselves to each other 
 by the most solemn oaths, that if one died before the other, 
 the survivor would not feast on the body of his shipmate. 
 
 Another day passed, when the boat, which had hitherto 
 proved staunch, sprung aleak, and Maltby made an effort to 
 bale out the water with his hat. But Cope gave himself up 
 to despair ; his reason at length deserted him ; cramps seized 
 his limbs ; he was the picture of famine, the prey of a de 
 vouring fever ; his mouth foamed, his tongue was swollen to 
 a frightful size, and his eyes lost all their' brilliancy. On 
 the seventh day, Cope made a convulsive effort to throw 
 himself out of the boat, and was with difficulty prevented 
 by Maltby. He then sunk down beneath the thwarts and 
 expired. 
 
152 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 Maltby had not strength enough to remove the dead body 
 of his shipmate, or even to bale out the boat, but remained 
 in one position in the stern-sheets, leaning against the after- 
 thwart, until the following day, in full possession of his 
 senses, however, and mentally praying to God to relieve him 
 from his sufferings, and forgive his sins ; and on the eighth 
 day after having been driven, out to sea, and twenty-six 
 hours after his shipmate had breathed his last, he lifted his 
 eyes, his head being even with the gunwale, and saw a ship 
 heading towards him. His heart, which had almost ceased 
 to beat, fluttered with a feeling of hope. He was unable to 
 rise, but he lifted his hat and feebly waved it as a signal. 
 
 A heavy penalty did these two men pay for indulging in 
 intemperate habits. JMaltby declared that he had learned a 
 lesson which would be of priceless value to him through life. 
 And it is to be hoped that he religiously kept his promise, 
 that he would ever after abstain from all intoxicating drinks. 
 
 That night, in the middle watch, Mark Eowland, while 
 walking the deck with Mr. Hawkins, gave utterance to the 
 thoughts that were uppermost in his mind connected with 
 the adventure of the previous day, and made eager inquiries 
 of that worthy officer if he had ever met with a case of the 
 kind in his long experience at sea. 
 
 " Such cases are by no means uncommon, Mark," said Mr. 
 Hawkins. " Boats and small vessels are sometimes driven 
 out of harbors and away from coasts, when they are al 
 together unprepared for such a misfortune. But if not 
 swamped in the gale which sent them adrift, they are usu 
 ally picked up- before the men undergo much suffering. I 
 never met with but one case of the kind, and that was an 
 exception to the general rule. The vessel, for it was not a 
 boat, had been drifting about more than six months before 
 it was picked up." 
 
A WAIF ON THE WATERS. 153 
 
 " Six months ! " cried Mark ; " and were there men on 
 board of her during the whole of that time ? " 
 
 " Certainly. I'll tell you how it happened. I once made 
 a voyage from Boston to San Francisco in the ship Mandril, 
 after a cargo of hides. In the Pacific Ocean, not far from 
 the coast, in latitude of about forty degrees, we fell in with 
 a Japanese junk, with three men on board, who were in a 
 truly distressed condition. I was one of the men who went 
 with the officer to examine the wreck. 
 
 " The state of affairs on board looked dark and gloomy 
 enough. The junk was only about thirty tons burden, and 
 had on board part of a cargo of rice, a large portion of 
 which had been soaked in the salt water and spoiled. She 
 was covered with barnacles of monstrous size, and a sort of 
 clams from two to five inches jln length. Her masts had 
 been carried away by the deck ; her rudder was also gone ; 
 she leaked badly ; and ropes had been strapped around and 
 around her to keep her from foundering. There was little 
 else on board excepting the rice in the hold, and a few arti 
 cles belonging to the men. There were in a cask a few gal 
 lons of rain water, that had been caught in a shower, but no 
 food of any description, besides the rice, excepting a few 
 strips of shark they nad lately caught, and which showed 
 strong symptoms of decay. Nevertheless, the men who 
 constituted her crew seemed in pretty good health, and able 
 to do good service at the pump ; otherwise she must have 
 gone down long before we fell in with her. 
 
 " We took from her half a dozen bags of the best rice, a 
 few pieces of rope, the three men, who rejoiced exceedingly 
 ao being rescued from the sinking wreck, and returned to 
 the ship. The junk could not have remained above water 
 four-and-twenty hours longer. Her bottom seemed to bo 
 coming to pieces. 
 
 " It appeared from facts that have since been ascertained, 
 
154 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 that this vessel was a coasting junk, and had been blown off 
 the coast and dismasted in one of those typhoons which are 
 so terribly destructive in those seas. Knowing nothing of 
 navigation or the effects of currents and winds, without 
 even a compass, and destitute of masts or sails, these unfor 
 tunate Japanese sailors were unable to make any exertions 
 for their safety, excepting to keep their frail bark afloat. 
 The heavy gales from the westward and currents had drifted 
 them to the eastward, inasmuch that, while they remained 
 in nearly the same parallel of latitude, they were driven 
 about twenty-four hundred miles in one hundred and ninety 
 days I There was no mistake in this, for one of the men, 
 who acted as skipper, kept a journal from the time he lost 
 sight of the land, until fallen in with by the Mandril. 
 
 " I never saw gratitude displayed with greater warmth 
 and sincerity than by these poor fellows. On our way home 
 we landed them at Coquimbo, whence, I since learned, they 
 managed after a while to find means of returning to their 
 own country." 
 
CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 HOMEWAED BOUND. 
 
 SOON after the ship Rosamond saved poor Maltby from a 
 terrible death, a heavy easterly gale commenced, which 
 lasted for several days. When the gale subsided, the high 
 mountains on the Cape of Good Hope were in sight ; and on 
 the following day the ship entered the harbor and anchored 
 in Table Bay. 
 
 From the anchorage in this remarkable bay, Mark Row 
 land beheld a wide and varied, a novel and deeply interest 
 ing scene. There were, as it appeared, spread out before 
 him the many vessels of different nations and characters at 
 anchor in the bay, and others discharging or taking in car 
 goes at the quays ; the city of Cape Town itself, with its 
 flat-roofed, white or ruddy-colored houses, and its numerous 
 towers and spires ; the neat villas and straw-colored cottages 
 stretching along back of the city, and peeping through the 
 dense foliage ; the grim batteries on the Lion's Rump, a short 
 distance from the sea ; on each side of the city, the lofty 
 crags known as the Devil's Peak and the Lion's Head ; and 
 directly back of Cape Town the long, lofty, flat-topped Table 
 Mountain itself, destitute of vegetation, and rising to a 
 height of thirty-six hundred feet above the level of the sea. 
 
 Nor were Mark's astonishment and admiration less when 
 he landed, and traversed the streets of that old Dutch city, 
 and saw the different kinds of people, and especially the 
 
 155 
 
 "X . 
 
156 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 many varieties of the African race, who were actively en 
 gaged in their wonted occupations. He saw there the gen 
 uine Hottentot, with his sooty skin, his long heels, and his 
 protruding lips ; the Bushman, with his low forehead and 
 expressionless visage, and the fierce-looking Caffre, with his 
 glittering eye and savage demeanor. He also met with sev 
 eral unadulterated descendants of the old Dutch Boers, 
 more appropriately called Boors, the original settlers of the 
 Cape, with their heavy frames, stolid countenances, coarse 
 habits, and unprepossessing manners, freezing at the foun 
 tain every gush of social intercourse. 
 
 Mark Rowland did not go far enough beyond the town to 
 encounter, in their wild state, lions, rhinoceroses, hippopota 
 muses, antelopes, camelopards, elephants, pythons, or even 
 the mischievous, vindictive, tailless, and hideous-looking bab- 
 boons, which are often seen in herds in the vicinity of Table 
 Mountain, and all of which are described with great gusto 
 by veracious travellers, to the great delight of wonder-lov 
 ing and voracious readers. He saw, however, in Cape Town 
 itself, many specimens ^ of wild animals altogether new to 
 him, which had been "caught, cribbed, and confined," and 
 exhibited for show or for sale. Indeed, he saw enough to 
 give him an exalted opinion of and a considerable insight 
 into the interesting subject of natural history. 
 
 Mark had read in one of his school-books an account of a 
 heroic act of an inhabitant of Cape Town in saving the 
 lives of men belonging to a vessel that was shipwrecked in 
 the Roads. He inquired into the facts, and found they were 
 all true as related by Sparrman, a celebrated traveller and 
 voyageur in the last century. 
 
 The incident occurred in 1775, but will never be forgotten 
 by the admirers of courage and benevolence. A Dutch ship 
 named the Jong Thomas was at anchor in the bay during 
 the inclement season, when a violent storm suddenly com- 
 
MARK ROWLAND. 157 
 
 mcncecl, and the heavy waves rushing in from the ocean 
 forced the ship from her anchors, and she was driven ashore 
 on the north side of the bay, some distance from the beach. 
 The cries of the mariners were distinctly heard ; but the sea 
 washed over the ship with such fury that no boat could live, 
 and some who attempted to swim ashore were dashed to 
 pieces on the rocks, or carried back by the refluent wave and 
 drowned. 
 
 The ship was driven ashore soon after daylight in the 
 morning, and intelligence was immediately conveyed to the 
 government house, when a small military force was promptly 
 dispatched to the seaside, not so much to assist in saving 
 life as to prevent the pillage of such portions of the cargo 
 as might be washed ashore. It happened that one of the 
 keepers of the Dutch East India Company's menagerie, 
 whose name was Voltemad, rode out of the town on a large 
 and spirited horse to carry breakfast to his son, who was a 
 corporal in the company stationed on the beach. He was 
 thus an early witness to the distressing scene, and, moved 
 by a generous compassion, though he could not swim, he 
 fixed himself firmly on his noble horse and swam him off to 
 the ship. Telling some of the crew to lay hold of a rope 
 which he threw to them, and others to grasp the tail of his 
 horse, he turned about and carried them safely to the shore. 
 In this way he made several trips, and sared a considerable 
 number of lives. 
 
 At last this bold and generous man fell a victim to his 
 philanthropy. His horse becoming fatigued with such unu 
 sual exertions, he waited a while on the beach for the animal 
 to rest. But, stimulated by the cries and prayers of the 
 unfortunate men on board the ship, he hastened to their 
 relief before the horse had sufficiently renewed his strength. 
 It also happened, unfortunately, that too many sought to be 
 
 saved at the same time, and the poor animal, with his bold 
 i* 
 
158 MARK ROWLAHD. 
 
 rider and the hapless mariners, who were clinging to the 
 trappings of the horse, all sunk, and were seen no more. 
 
 The East India Directors in Holland seem to have appre 
 ciated the noble conduct of Voltemad. On receiving intelli 
 gence of the affair, they ordered one of their ships to be 
 called after his name, and the story of his humanity to be 
 inscribed on its stern. They further did honor to themselves 
 by enjoining their agents at the Cape to provide for the 
 descendants of Voltemad, in case there were any such, and 
 put them in a way of speedily and effectually making their 
 fortunes. They also ordered a monument to be erected to 
 the memory of this self-devoted philanthropist. 
 
 Unfortunately for the young corporal, who was the only 
 child of Voltemad, the agents of the Company in the south 
 ern hemisphere did not cherish the same sentiments of grat 
 itude. This young man, who had been a looker-on while his 
 father sacrificed himself in the service of the Company and 
 of mankind, made an application for the place which his fa 
 ther had held in the menagerie, humble as it was. His appli 
 cation was refused ! Stung by the disappointment, he imme 
 diately left the Cape of Good Hope, and went to Batavia, 
 hoping to find better fortunes among a more generous people. 
 Here he was attacked by the malignant fever incidental to 
 the climate, and died before the news of the acknowledgment 
 of his father's services, and the kind feelings of the Company 
 towards himself, could reach him. This is not a solitary 
 instance where an act of god-like humanity has gone unre 
 quited by an unfeeling world. 
 
 On the day on which the last portion of the cargo of the 
 Rosamond was discharged, Mr. Digges took it into his wise 
 head to make .a great display, astonish the crews of the for 
 eign ships in the harbor, and let them know that an Ameri 
 can " can, do some things as well as others." 
 
 Preparations were made accordingly. A big gun, charged 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 159 
 
 with a double allowance of powder, was to be fired; at 
 which signal the American ensign was to be hoisted at the 
 spanker peak, the flaunting burgee, with the eagle and 
 stars, at the mizzen sky-sail masthead, the pennant at the 
 main, and the American jack at the fore ; and at the same 
 moment the last bale of goods was to be hoisted out of the 
 hold, and run up to the main yard-arm. 
 
 The arrangements were completed. Every man was at 
 his station, and Mr. Digges, in high glee, standing on the 
 quarter-deck with the trumpet to his mouth, in a Stentor-like 
 tone, gave the word, " FIRE." 
 
 The gun spoke in a voice like thunder, which, of course, 
 made the Rosamond the observed of all observers ; the flags 
 were all displayed, and the last bale hoisted out agreeably 
 to the programme, and, to the great admiration of all the 
 foreigners in the port, who could hardly understand what 
 Brother Jonathan would be at. 
 
 It so happened that at this time there was a little Pariah 
 dog on board, named Trip, a timid, harmless, inoffensive 
 animal, a great favorite with the captain. Little Trip was 
 standing near the gun-carriage at the forward part of the 
 main deck, attentively watching the operations, and appar 
 ently wondering at what was going on, but without having 
 the slightest suspicion of the stunning report which was 
 about to salute his ears. "When the gun was fired, the shock 
 came upon him with terrible effect. It actually knocked him 
 over, and deprived him of his wits. He uttered a mournful 
 howl, sprang to his feet, and ran aft the whole length of the 
 deck, with the fleetness of a greyhound, jumped on the taff- 
 rail, and, turning his head for a second, gave a terrified look 
 behind him ; then, as if eager to escape from the clutches of 
 some imaginary monster, jumped ten or fifteen feet over the 
 stern into the water, and was never seen afterwards. 
 
 Captain Lamark, on being informed of the fate of his 
 
160 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 favorite dog, through an ill-timed desire on the part of Mr. 
 Digges to startle the good people in Cape Town and Table 
 Bay, and make a noise in the world, was quite angry. He 
 severely reprimanded that officer for indulging such ambi 
 tious impulses, and never heartily forgave him for having 
 made such a fool of himself, as he termed it, and been the 
 cause of the death of poor Trip. 
 
 Captain Lamark, finding some difficulty in procuring the 
 articles of merchandise he was in quest of, the Rosamond 
 was detained two months at the Cape. Urged by the 
 promptings of a generous nature, the captain acted as 
 Mark's agent in managing and investing the treasure which 
 our hero found in the island of St. Paul. He regarded this 
 as a sacred trust, and purchased on Mark's account a quan 
 tity of wool, wines, and hides, which he put on board the 
 ship, exacting, of course, a fair freight, and assuring Mark 
 that he would derive a good profit on the goods on arriving 
 at Boston. 
 
 On leaving the Cape, Mark Rowland took with him a goat, 
 with a grave face, long curved horns, and a bushy beard, 
 whose playful ways and intelligence he was greatly charmed 
 with, and which he intended as a gift to his sister Ellen, if 
 he should be so fortunate as ever to reach his home in Glen- 
 maple. And greatly did he rejoice when the sailors, with 
 the jovial song of " Yeo heave O," handled their hand 
 spikes, and lifted the ponderous anchor from its briny rest 
 ing-place ; and the good old ship Rosamond, to which by this 
 time he had become greatly attached, with a fine breeze and 
 a large spread of canvas, sailed majestically out of Table 
 Bay, the remarkable mountain, with its level summit, every 
 minute lessening in the distance, and in a few hours vanish 
 ing from his sight. 
 
 And now, fairly embarked in a strong ship, with a favor 
 able wind, after meeting with adventures which had devel- 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 161 
 
 oped his energies, and would remain indelibly impressed on 
 his memory for life, the thoughts of home took complete 
 possession of his mind. His mother ! His kind, indulgent, 
 ever affectionate mother ! who was so unwilling that he 
 should leave his home, and brave the dangers of the seas ! 
 How had she borne his long absence ? Had she heard of his 
 being left on the island of St. Paul ? Had she given him up 
 for lost, and sunk under the blow ? Had she found friends 
 to console her in affliction, and relieve the sufferings of ill- 
 health and poverty? 
 
 On the passage home, Mark Rowland could fully sympa 
 thize with the uaamiable feelings of the captain and crew, 
 when the wind, after baffling about for a time, fixed itself in 
 the very quarter to which they wished to steer ; or, what 
 was- still more annoying, died away, and a dead calm pre 
 vailed, which threatened to last for days. At such a time 
 Mark could appreciate the sentiment contained in the fol 
 lowing lines by the poet Fields : 
 
 " A welcome to the rushing blast 
 
 That stirs the waters now. 
 Ye white-plum'd heralds of the deep, 
 
 Make music round her prow. 
 Give sea-room to the roaring gale ; 
 
 Let stormy trumpets blow ; 
 But chain ten thousand fathoms -down 
 
 The sluggish calm below." 
 
 Captain Lamark, after leaving the Cape of Good Hope, 
 was desirous of getting to the southward into the region of 
 the trade-winds, as rapidly as possible. But the winds came 
 l from the northward, with boisterous weather^ and the ship's 
 progress was slow, averaging not more than a degree each 
 day for a week, until in the latitude of twenty-seven and a 
 half degrees she fell in with the regular "south-east trades," 
 
162 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 which wafted her steadily along on her way, until she nearly 
 reached the equator. 
 
 Ships bound home from the Cape of Good Hope, or ports 
 beyond it in the Indian Seas, find this part of their passage 
 particularly delightful. The wind, although often moderate, 
 remains fixed in one point, and the ship ploughs her way 
 through a smooth sea, directly before it, with royals, sky- 
 sails, and " studding-sails both sides, alow and aloft." 
 There is no fear of squalls or sudden changes. The air is 
 balmy and the temperature delicious. This is indeed the 
 very poetry of navigation. "If such winds and weather 
 were always met with at sea," said Mr. Hawkins to Mark 
 Rowland, " sailors might hang up their marline-spikes, and 
 let the old women sail and navigate the ships." 
 
 As the island of Ascension lay almost directly in the 
 route of the Rosamond towards the equator, Captain La- 
 mark thought he would endeavor to get a sight of it in order 
 to test the accuracy of his chronometer and sextant ; and 
 one day, having ascertained his precise latitude at twelve 
 o'clock, on the passage of the sun across the meridian, he 
 said that if his instruments for determining the longitude 
 were correct, the island of Ascension ought soon to be in 
 sight, as Green Mountain, the highest part of the island, 
 could be seen from a long distance, and the island was sit 
 uated in a parallel of latitude only thirty-five miles to the 
 northward of the ship, the latitude of the ship being in seven 
 degrees and twenty-two minutes south. 
 
 Acting upon this hint, Mark Rowland sprang into the 
 fore-rigging like a squirrel, and climbed upwards and up 
 wards until he reached the fore-royal mast-head, and no 
 sooner had he cast his eyes around the horizon than he cried 
 out, " Land ho ! about three points on the starboard bow ! " 
 
 He could only see the faint outline of the upper part of 
 Green Mountain. But the mountain could not be seen from 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 163 
 
 the deck until nearly an hour afterwards. Captain Lamark 
 felt greatly pleased at having made such a capital land-fall, 
 giving assurance of the accuracy of his instruments and his 
 skill in their management. 
 
 As the Rosamond had so recently left port, and was well 
 supplied with the various articles which are supposed to 
 make a sailor's life not only endurable but comfortable, Cap 
 tain Lamark did not think it worth while to anchor, but al 
 tering the ship's course a couple of points, passed along 
 within about a mile of the island, which they reached by five 
 o'clock in the afternoon, and obtained a fine view of its gen 
 eral character and appearance. 
 
 In answer to the many questions which Mark Rowland 
 put to Captain Lamark, who, in a passage from Manilla 
 some years before, had actually landed on the island 
 of Ascension, that gentleman gave Mark the following 
 information. 
 
 " The island of Ascension is a huge, volcanic mass of 
 rocks thrown up from the bottom of the ocean. It is about 
 twenty miles in circumference, and its bleak and barren ap 
 pearance, when seen from the water, does not belie the real 
 ity. It is a rough, rocky, uneven spot, with but little soil, 
 no trees, and scanty vegetation of any kind. The highest 
 point of the island is three thousand feet above the level of 
 the sea. Goats and rats are about the only quadrupeds 
 which are found on the island in a wild state. It has been 
 held by Great Britain as a military post, ever since Napo 
 leon Bonaparte was gratuitously furnished with lodgings at 
 St. Helena by the British Government. Vessels which 
 touch there are supplied with water, sometimes with vegeta 
 bles of a very ordinary quality, and turtles in abundance. 
 These turtles are large, and furnish delicate and nutritious 
 food, and are heartily welcomed on board ships, which hav 
 ing been long at sea, are deficient in fresh provisions. 
 
164 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 There is little else to gratify the curiosity of the traveller, 
 or satisfy the longings of the naturalist." 
 
 Mark Rowland had often heard these famous turtles spo 
 ken of and described by the officers and men of the Rosa 
 mond, and was very anxious to see what kind of looking 
 animals they were. And in a few days after the ship passed 
 the island of Ascension* he met with an opportunity not only 
 to see one of these queer, uncouth-looking animals, but to be 
 convinced of their existence by tangible proof. 
 
 After the ship had crossed the equator, and was making 
 the best of her way through the region of calms, showers, 
 and thunder-squalls, before reaching the latitude of the 
 north-east trade-winds, a dark object was seen one forenoon 
 on the water by the man at the wheel. He pointed it out to 
 Mr. Digges, who was officer of the deck at the time. That 
 officer recognized it once as a turtle as a turtle of uncom 
 mon size asleep on the water ! 
 
 It was nearly calm at the time. The ship barely had 
 steerage-way. There w'as no prospect of a breeze, and al 
 though heavy clouds hung about the horizon, it would be 
 long before they could reach the zenith. Mr. Digges was 
 an epicure in his way, and professed to be inordinately fond 
 of turtle ; and the sight of the animal quietly reposing on 
 the water, unconscious of danger, conjured up rapturous 
 visions of delicious turtle steaks, and unctuous soups and fric 
 assees, such as would bewilder, captivate, and charm the pal 
 ate of the most fastidious epicure. Thrusting his head down 
 the companion-way, " Captain Lamark," said that trustwor 
 thy officer, " there is a fine turtle asleep on the water, but a 
 short distance off; shall I lower away the jolly-boat, nab 
 him, and bring him on board ? " 
 
 "That is more easily said than done," replied the cap 
 tain. "It is as hard to catch a turtle asleep as a weasel. 
 I have no objection to your making the trial, but you had 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 165 
 
 better take the grainse with you, and strike a prong through 
 one of his flippers, if you want to make sure of him." 
 
 Mr. Digges was one of those men who seldom take prof 
 fered advice, or adopt the suggestions of others, and who, in 
 consequence, are often involved in trouble. " I want no 
 grainse," said he, turning towards Mr. Hawkins, u or any 
 thing of the kind, to catch a sleeping turtle." 
 
 The ship's way was stopped, and Mr. Digges, Mark Row 
 land, and Harry Linsay, stepped into the boat. Mark had 
 not much faith in the mate's success, after the captain's ad 
 monition, but wished to obtain as close a view of the animal 
 as possible. 
 
 Mr. Digges, with his sleeves rolled up, bare-armed for the 
 contest, like Pentapolin of old, and determination in 
 his eye, took his station in the bow ; Mark stood near him, 
 and both fixed their eyes intently on the drowsy reptile, while 
 Harry Linsay, agreeably to the directions of the mate, slow 
 ly and cautiously sculled the boat through the water. 
 " So ! steady as you go ! " said Mr. Digges. " Don't give 
 her too much way ! Steer straight for the turtle ; keep him 
 right ahead ! There, that will do ! Way enough ! Stand 
 by, Mark, and if I should miss him, grab him by the flip 
 per, and hold on like a nor'-wester to a West Indiaman in 
 Massachusetts Bay in mid-winter ! " 
 
 But the turtle, although pretending to be asleep, was in 
 reality wide awake, or was awakened -by a presentiment of 
 coming danger. As the boat reached him, and Mr. Digges 
 with outstretched arms made an effort to seize him, the rep 
 tile with a quick motion dodged him and darted across the 
 bow ; of the boat, thus placing himself within reach of Mark 
 Rowland. Just as he was on the point of diving, with his 
 head down and his tail up, Mark grabbed him by the hind 
 flipper, and shouted exultantly, "I've got him! I've got 
 him ! " 
 
166 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 " Hold on, Mark," screamed Mr. Digges ; " hold on for 
 your life ! " and he stepped over to the other side of the 
 boat to Mark's assistance. 
 
 This turtle was an animal of monstrous size, of the logger 
 head species, weighing at least two hundred and fifty pounds, 
 and his strength in the water was prodigious. Terrified at 
 such unceremonious and unkind treatment, the animal made 
 a desperate struggle to get away, exerting all its muscular 
 power, and for a brief moment it was a question whether the 
 turtle would be captured and conveyed in triumph on board 
 the ship, or Mark Rowland, who, stimulated by the loud 
 cries of the mate, would not relinquish his hold, go over 
 board. 
 
 The struggle was a short but severe one. It was decided 
 in favor of the turtle by Mr. Digges, himself, who on step 
 ping to Mark's assistance gave the boat a list that upset 
 Mark's equilibrium, already endangered by the struggles of 
 the reptile ; and overboard lie went, still clinging like a hero 
 to the turtle, and both disappeared beneath the waves. 
 
 The turtle was never heard of afterwards, and doubtless 
 rejoiced exceedingly at having shaken off its pursuer, and 
 escaped without a wound ; and quite likely in its aquatic 
 haunts it has often related for the edification of admiring 
 audiences, the perilous adventure it once met with in the 
 upper regions. 
 
 In a few moments Mark Rowland appeared, bouncing up 
 to the surface like a cork, and blowing and puffing like a 
 porpoise. He was taken into the boat, and the parties 
 returned to the ship silent and disappointed. Indeed, Mr. 
 Digges looked crest-fallen and cross, and exhibited aTery 
 unamiable temper for a week afterwards, and was observed 
 to look particularly savage and wrathful, whenever the word 
 turtle was mentioned in his hearing. 
 
CHAPTER XTV. 
 
 DAVY JONES. 
 
 THE goat "which Mark Rowland brought on board at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, proved to be a lively, frisky animal, 
 playful and sometimes mischievous. And his mischievous 
 propensities were rather encouraged than otherwise by the 
 sailors, who regarded him with much interest and affec 
 tion, and took charge of his education. They named 
 him Samson ; he had the range of the decks, and took 
 great delight in chasing the men about when they were 
 engaged in their various duties, and exercising his skill in 
 buttincf, an accomplishment in which he had received no little 
 encouragement and instruction from the sailors, and in 
 which he showed himself an apt scholar. Indeed, not hav 
 ing judgment enough to select the proper times, places, and 
 persons, when, where, and on whom, to test his force and 
 adroitness in thai, peculiar and effective mode of attack, he 
 more than once involved himself in trouble. 
 
 Mr. Digges was a good officer, scrupulously attentive to 
 his duties. He was somewhat stout-built, had a bald head , 
 and but little fun in his disposition. He never joked, and 
 seldom laughed at the jokes of others. Such men are, per 
 haps, well enough in their way, for the sake of variety ; but 
 it is well for the happiness of mankind that there are not 
 many of them. 
 
 Mr. Digges took a dislike to Samson when he was first 
 brought on board ; and grumbled without stint at the cap- 
 
 167 
 
168 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 tain's folly, in thus allowing a four-legged beast to cumber 
 the ship, clutter up the decks, and be always in the way. 
 He could never get reconciled to the presence of Samson, 
 but took every opportunity to give him a kick, or indulge 
 his hatred in a manner equally unjustifiable. Samson bore 
 this ill-treatment for some time without resistance or even 
 remonstrance ; but at last an opportunity offered for retalia 
 tion, which the mate little anticipated, but which Samson 
 knowingly or unwittingly improved to its fullest extent ; and 
 thus " the whirligig of time brought about its revenges." 
 
 It was the Sabbath day. The ship was just emerging 
 from the tropics. The weather was pleasant and warm, with 
 a moderate breeze nearly abeam. After a hearty dinner the 
 captain had retired to his state-room, and was indulging in a 
 nap, and Mr. Hawkins, the second mate, had followed the 
 captain's laudable example. Mr. Digges, whose watch was 
 on deck, after taking a few turns fore and aft, thought that 
 instead of reading a chapter or two in the Bible, as he should 
 hav^ done, he would improve his leisure time in washing a 
 few of his garments, which he easily persuaded himself was 
 an act of necessity. 
 
 According!} 7 ", having clandestinely provided himself with a 
 bucket of fresh water, Mr. Digges took his station in the lee 
 scuppers, and made due preparations for business. The 
 weather being warm, he threw off his hat and jacket, and 
 rolling up his shiru sleeves, and stooping down over the 
 bucket, iii a posture resembling the natural attitude of a 
 quadruped, he went briskly to work. 
 
 At this critical moment Samson came from the forecastle, 
 having been reciting some practical lessons in butting, for 
 the amusement of the sailors. He saw the mate in a stoop 
 ing posture, with his shiny cranium bobbing up and down, 
 and taking it for a challenge to a trial of strength and skill, 
 and possibly influenced by shadowy visions of ill-treatment, 
 

 DAVY JONES. 169 
 
 which flitted before his mind's eye, he stepped back a pace 
 or two, to allow space for a good run, and raising his head 
 for a correct aim, rushed with the force of a rock from a 
 ballista full against the bald head which was nodding defi 
 ance. \ 
 
 The shock was a tremendous one, and could be heard all 
 over the ship. The unfortunate mate, who little dreamed of 
 such an encounter, was knocked over backwards, and fell 
 sprawling and senseless in the scuppers, and his cranium 
 was saved from fracture only by the unusual thickness of his 
 skull. 
 
 Samson escaped " death or worse punishment," only by 
 the unconsciousness of his opponent, who was borne into the 
 cabin, where his head was bound up, and he was restored to 
 his senses. But his rage at such an unprovoked .attack 
 knew no bounds. He vowed all sorts of vengeance against 
 the goat, and was*hardly restrained by the captain's author 
 ity from giving the animal a good ropers-ending, and then 
 knocking him in the head. 
 
 A week or two after this occurrence, which furnished a 
 fruitful theme for conversation among all hands, and. tended 
 to enliven the ship's company, the ship Rosamond entered 
 the Gulf Stream, and met with rough weather. A gale came 
 on suddenly in squalls, and about six bells in the middle 
 watch all hands were called to reef top-sails. It was dark 
 and rainy ; heavy black clouds rose from the horizon, and 
 passed rapidly over the zenith, while the sea, suddenly agi 
 tated by a change of wind, spitefully tossed volumes of 
 spray over the decks. 
 
 The top-sail halliards were let go, and the yards clued 
 down for reefing ; the main-sail was hauled up, the spanker 
 lowered, and the jib hauled down. The men went aloft and 
 took a double reef in the top-sails, but, in coming down 
 from the foretop-sail yard, one of the men, Jack Radkin, 
 
 15 
 
170 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 was startled by the sight of a strange-looking object, which 
 seemed to be clinging to the lee foretop-mast backstays, just 
 above the level of the foretop, and kicking out its legs like a 
 jumping jack. 
 
 Radkin hailed it, thinking it might be one of his ship 
 mates, amusing himself in that strange manner, but received 
 no answer. The darkness prevented his analyzing its shape 
 or character, but he saw enough to arouse all his fears, and 
 convince him that* some terrible calamity was impending 
 over the ship. He slid down on deck by the first rope he 
 could catch, at the risk of breaking Ms neck. 
 
 " Mr. Digges ! Mr. Digges ! " he shouted, as soon as he 
 reached the deck ; u Davy Jones is aloft, and holding on to 
 the lee backstays ! " 
 
 "Don't be a natural-born fool, Jack! What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " He is there, sir ! Davy Jones is there, sir," said Jack, 
 with a voice tremulous with terror, pointing aloft ; " horns 
 and all ! I saw him, as I came down, as plain as the nose 
 on my face. I almost touched him. You may see him now, 
 sir. He is ten shades blacker than the pitchy darkness that 
 is around us." 
 
 On looking aloft, this strange announcement received a 
 terrible confirmation by the appearance of a dark, undefined 
 object in the direction indicated by Jack Radkin. A panic 
 seized the ship's companj 7 ", which was increased, when, on 
 counting noses, not a man was missing from deck. The cap 
 tain was known to be snug in his berth in the cabin, and 
 Snowball, the cook, was lending a hand on deck. Yet some 
 body was aloft ; that was clear. It could be none of the 
 ship's company, and therefore the conclusion was inevitable : 
 it must be the great enemy of mankind, or one of his agents, 
 on some fearful mission. 
 
 Mr. Hawkins, and one or two of the most intrepid sailors, 
 
DAVY JOKES. 171 
 
 went half-way up the lee fore-rigging, to obtain a more dis 
 tinct glimpse of the object which had excited such alarm ; 
 but a nearer view only served to confirm the fears already 
 entertained. Bob Randy, a bold, reckless reprobate, on 
 being urged by Mr. Digges to go up higher, and " cut the 
 critter loose," whatever it was, and throw it overboard, re 
 fused, declaring that he feared nothing in the shape of a liv 
 ing man, but as for fighting a black, horned demon, there 
 was no such obligation in the shipping articles. 
 
 By this time the squall had subsided, the clouds had 
 become broken, and objects could be seen more distinctly. 
 Mr. Digges now summoned all his courage to his aid, and, 
 with a degree of daring which reflected great credit on the 
 character of that active officer, determined to go aloft him 
 self, and ascertain, from personal inspection, the nature of 
 the mysterious phantom which had frightened the whole 
 ship's company. His compressed lips and scowling c6unte- 
 nance marked his unshaken resolution, as he ascended the 
 lee fore-rigging, cautiously passed over the rattlings, keep 
 ing a good look-out above his head, until he reached the fut- 
 tock shrouds. Here, pausing in his career, he took a good 
 look at the monster. 
 
 " Do you see him?" inquired the second mate, in a low 
 voice, as he stood on the gunwale, looking up. 
 
 " See him? To be sure I do," replied Mr. Digges. 
 
 " What does he look like? " asked Mr. Hawkins. 
 
 " He looks like Davy Jones, and nobody else," said Mr. 
 Digges, with a shudder. " I can see his horns ! I can see 
 his tail ! I can see his cloven foot ! I can see his long beard ! 
 and dowse my glim, if it isn't that confounded goat, Sam 
 son, strung up by the gills like a stock-fish, after all!" 
 
 Mr. Digges came down .quicker than he went up. He told 
 Mr. Hawkins to set the sails and trim the yards, and walked 
 
172 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 off without saying another word. Soon afterwards he went 
 below, highly mortified, indignant, and disgusted^ 
 
 The key thus furnished, the mystery was soon unlocked. 
 Samson was found to be actually hanging and dangling in 
 mid-air. It was subsequently ascertained that, when the jib 
 halliards were let go by the run', and the jib hauled down, 
 the goat must have been standing around, as usual, to see 
 what was going on, and had stepped into the coil of the 
 rope just as it was thrown on deck. When the halliards 
 were let go, a couple of turns of the rope caught him around 
 the neck, and, in spite of his struggles and resistance, car 
 ried him aloft. Thus, without any intention on the part of 
 the goat, or any of the ship's company, poor Samson paid 
 the penalty for being where he was not wanted, and was 
 " hanged by the neck until he was dead." 
 
 Captain Lamark was a skilful navigator. He not only had 
 a good chronometer and a good sextant, and knew how to 
 use them, but he was gifted with a. sound judgment, and, 
 even in. the absence of the sun, moon, and stars, if " dead 
 reckoning " was to be relied on, he would be at all times 
 aware of the exact position of the ship. He placed, how 
 ever, but little confidence in dead reckoning. He regarded 
 it at best but a rough kind of guess-work. On approaching 
 a coast in cloudy weather, when neither the longitude nor 
 latitude could be ascertained by observation, he relied alto 
 gether on his lead and line. He often said that if sound 
 ings were resorted to on approaching the land, and the lead 
 frequently used, shipwrecks would be reduced at least fifty 
 per centum; for there were very few parts of the ocean 
 where the soundings would not indicate, in a manner which 
 could not be misunderstood, the proximity of danger. 
 
 After leaving the Gulf Stream, Captain Lamark steered a 
 course to the northward, intending to pass through the South 
 Channel : that is, the wide and safe passage between the 
 
DAVY JONES. 173 
 
 shoals of Nantucket on the west, and St. George's Bank on 
 the east. He always had a horror of the Vineyard Sound, 
 with its Holmes Hole, extra charges for pilotage and ship's 
 stores, besides a tedious detention of weeks or months. 
 
 On approaching the entrance of the South Channel, the 
 weather was mild and the atmosphere foggy. The captain 
 had taken no observation for the previous twenty-four hours, 
 and, with the currents which prevail in that quarter, and 
 light and baffling winds, he was by no means certain of the 
 position of the ship. Nevertheless, he kept on fearlessly, 
 depending on the lead, feeling assured that it would not only 
 give him seasonable warning of his approach to the land, 
 but also indicate, by the character of the soundings, which 
 side of the channel he was approaching, and thus enable him 
 to steer a correct course. 
 
 Night came on; it was quite dark, drizzly, and foggy. 
 No object, not even the light in a lighthouse, could be seen 
 at the distance of two ship's lengths from the jib-boom. 
 There was now a steady breeze from the south-east, but the 
 ship, although under full sail, was in good working trim. 
 Captain Lamark was on deck, for at a time like this, he 
 would trust to the vigilance of no one but himself. The 
 lead was thrown from time to time, and the soundings care 
 fully noted ; twenty, twenty-five, and thirty fathoms, sand, 
 or sand and shells. 
 
 At four bells in the first watch (ten o'clock), all hands 
 being on deck, the captain remarked to his officers, " Surely, 
 we ought to be as far along as the south shoal of Nantucket 
 by this time. These numerous tide-rips, almost amounting 
 to breakers, are sure indications that shoal water is not far 
 off. Take another cast of the lead." 
 
 The lead was thrown, and conveyed the intelligence that 
 the ship was in fifteen fathoms of water. A few minutes 
 
 16* 
 
174 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 afterwards, the water had shoaled to eight fattioms, rocky 
 bottom. . , 
 
 " Starboard your helm," said Captain Lamark to the man 
 at the wheel ; "I know where we are now. We are on the 
 tail of St. George's shoal. Brail up the spanker and square 
 the yards. Keep her west-north-west." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir," responded the helmsman. " West-north 
 west it is." 
 
 The water soon deepened, and in fifteen minutes no sound 
 ings could be obtained with fifty fathoms of line. " Hur 
 rah ! " exclaimed the captain ; " 'tis all right ! Hey for Cape 
 Cod ! If the wind 'holds, and the fog clears away, we shall 
 make the highlands of the cape by noon to-morrow." 
 
 Notwithstanding Captain Lamark was so confident that he 
 knew the exact position of his ship, he caused the lead to be 
 thrown at short intervals through the night. " It is barely 
 possible that I may be mistaken," he remarked to his officers, 
 " and it is always best to be on the safe side." 
 
 Mr. Digges thought the captain was over-cautious, and 
 that such constant heaving of the lead was a very trouble 
 some operation, and altogether unnecessary. But he wisely 
 refrained from expressing his discontented feelings in the 
 hearing of the captain. 
 
 Mr. Hawkins, however, took a different view of the mat 
 ter, and not only obeyed the orders of the captain with 
 alacrity and cheerfulness, but anticipated his wishes in 
 regard to the soundings. 
 
 In the middle watch, while the captain had gone below to 
 obtain a little sleep, being weary and worn out with care 
 and watchfulness, Mr. Hawkins took occasion to express to 
 Mark Rowland his admiration of the conduct of Captain 
 Lamark when approaching the coast. "If every captain," 
 said Mr. Hawkins, " were as prudent as Captain Lamark, 
 many a strong ship -would have been saved from shipwreck, 
 
DAVY JONES. 175 
 
 and many a brave and faithful sailor would have been saved 
 from a sudden death. 
 
 " I was once," continued Mr. Hawkins, warming with his 
 subject, " before the mast in the ship Redondo, Captain Lan- 
 rock, bound from Liverpool to New York, with a heavy and 
 valuable cargo. The captain was a worthy man, a good 
 sailor, and a skilful navigator. But he liked his ease ; he 
 could not bear to be deprived of his usual amount of sleep, 
 and reposed a* great deal more confidence in the fidelity and 
 vigilance of his officers than they deserved. After a long 
 and tedious passage of fifty-six days, for the Redondo was 
 a heavy sailer, we made, just at night, the Jersey coast, 
 some ten or fifteen miles to the southward of the highlands 
 of Navesink. The wind was to the northward, and there 
 was a heavy sea running, and as we could not obtain a pilot, 
 the captain concluded to stand off and on during the night, 
 hoping to find himself off Sandy Hook in the morning. 
 
 " At five o'clock we were well in with the land, in fifteen 
 fathoms of water. We then tacked ship and stood off to the 
 eastward until eight o'clock, when, with a light breeze, we 
 again tacked and stood in shore. The chief mate, Mr. Gar- 
 gin, whom the captain believed to be true and trustworthy, 
 but who would steal a nap on deck whenever he had a 
 chance, aye, even sleep with his head in a bucket of water, 
 had charge of the first watch. 
 
 " The captain told Mr. Gargin to keep a good lookout, 
 and take a cast of the lead every fifteen minutes at least, and 
 at four bells (ten o'clock) put the ship round with her head 
 off shore ; and if at any time he found less than fifteen 
 fathoms, to tack ship immediately. 'And, Mr. Gargin/ 
 continued he; ' if there should be any change in the wind or 
 weather, give me a call ; and be sure to call me at twelve 
 o'clock.' 
 
176 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 
 
 " ' Aye, aye, sir ! ' responded Mr. Gargin, somewhat 
 gruffly. 
 
 " Captain Lanrock went below, feeling satisfied that he 
 had done his duty. He unrigged himself and turned into 
 his berth, as unconcernedly as if he had taken lodgings at a 
 first-class" hotel, throwing off with his coat all responsibility 
 for the fate of the ship and crew. 
 
 " He had hardly closed his eyes before the wind hauled a 
 couple of points to the eastward, and rapidly increased to a 
 strong breeze. The weather also became thick and rainy, 
 and the ship now dashed on towards the shore with nearly 
 double the speed with which she left it a short time before. 
 The mate, warmly wrapped in his monkey-jacket, which 
 might very properly be called a wraprascal, after taking a 
 a few turns fore and aft, seated himself on the weather hen 
 coop, gradually assumed a recumbent position, and was soon 
 lost to sense and motion. 
 
 " Mr. Gargin was aroused out of his nap by the helmsman 
 when he announced that it was ten o'clock. The mate shook 
 himself, looked around, and ordered the lead to be thrown. 
 It was ascertained that the ship was in eighteen fathoms of 
 water. 
 
 "'All right!' said Mr. Gargin. 'If she keeps in eigh 
 teen fathoms she will never go ashore.' 
 
 " fc That's as true as if Old Neptune himself had said it,' 
 remarked old Ben Lufkin, who had just taken the wheel. 
 
 " ' We will stand on for half an hour longer,' soliloquized 
 the mate, ' and then we can afford to take a good stretch 
 off.' And he threw himself down on the hen-coop again, and 
 slept as soundly as the captain in the cabin. 
 
 "His half hour was a long one. An hour and a half 
 passed by, and the ship meanwhile was rushing towards the 
 land at the rate of six or seven knots through the water, 
 aided by a heavy sea tumbling in from the eastward, and 
 
DAVY JONES. 177 
 
 perhaps also by a strong current setting in the same direc 
 tion. 
 
 " I was in the chief mate's watch, and the opinion was 
 freely expressed among my watch-mates that we were getting 
 too near the land for our comfort or safety. But Caleb 
 Benson, a sort of boatswain on board, dryly remarked, 
 4 That's no business of ours, boys ! If the ship is lost, it 
 will not be our fault. If any one of us should advise the 
 mate to tack ship and stand off, he would receive more abuse 
 than thanks ; more kicks than coppers. By all means let 
 matters take their own course, and we shall soon find out 
 what that will be.' 
 
 " And soon, too soon, the crisis came. All at once was 
 heard a loud, sullen roar, which soon died away. But the 
 origin of that roar could not be mistaken by any one who 
 had ever heard it. Caleb Benson shouted with a voice that 
 could be heard all over the ship, c BREAKERS AHEAD ! ' At 
 the same moment Beri Lufkin called to the mate in a tone 
 of great alarm, 4 Mr. Gargin ! Mr. Gargin ! there's break 
 ers ahead, as sure as there's sharks in the sea ! ' 
 
 " Mr. Gargin sprang to his feet, and was wide awake in 
 an instant. At the same moment Captain Lanrock, hearing 
 the cry of 'breakers ! ' rushed up on deck, clad only in a 
 single garment. 
 
 ut What is the meaning of this, Mr. Gargin?' screamed 
 the captain. c You sleepy-headed scoundrel, you have neg 
 lected your duty, and we are lost ! ' At the same time he 
 gave the mate a blow with his fist which knocked that officer 
 headlong into the lee scuppers, and that was the last ever 
 seen of him. 
 
 " 4 Hard down your helm, and stand by for stays ! ' 
 shouted the captain, in a loud* voice, which nevertheless 
 could hardly be heard above the roar of the breakers, which 
 were fearfully near. 
 
 " And even at that critical moment if the ship had worked 
 
1 78 MARK ROWLAND . 
 
 well, and come round, we might have filled on the other tack 
 and clawed off shore. But she would not ; stay/ and the 
 only chance was to ' wear ship.' The spanker was brailed 
 up, the head yards were braced round, and we boxed her 
 off, and got her before the wind, which by this time having 
 hauled into north-east, was blowing directly on shore. But 
 before the ship could come-to on the other tack, she was 
 among the breakers. She was lifted high up on the top of a 
 gigantic combing wave, and dashed upon the shores of the 
 Jersey coast, with a shock that took every man off his feet, 
 and shook the masts out of their steps. 
 
 " The ship swung round broadside to the wind, when a sea 
 came in over the quarter which swept the deck, took off the 
 captain, the second mate, and the helmsman, whose bodies 
 were afterwards picked up on the beach. The rest of us 
 clung to the rigging or spars as well as we could for a time ; 
 but how we managed to avoid being washed away at once, is 
 more than I know. But the ship was old and decayed, and 
 could not long stand this terrible pounding. She was soon 
 crushed like an egg-shell, and planks, timbers, spars, and 
 cargo were driven towards the shore. I got hold of a plank, 
 or a box, or a spar, I hardly know what, and determined to 
 cling to it as long as possible. I soon lost air sensation, 
 and an hour and a half afterwards found myself on the beach, 
 half frozen to death, and a couple of good-natured fellows 
 were kindly pouring whiskey down my throat to bring me to 
 my senses. 
 
 " Four of my shipmates were as fortunate as myself, and 
 reached the shore alive. All the rest of the crew perished. 
 This sad disaster taught me that an officer of a ship should 
 never sleep in his watch on deck, or neglect to heave the lead 
 'when approaching the land. It also taught me that no man is 
 fit to command a ship, who in a critical time will trust the 
 property and lives for which he is responsible, to the care 
 and judgment of any one but himself." 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE PERILS OF THE WHALE-FISHERY. 
 
 "Whales in the sea, 
 God's voice obey. " , 
 
 WITH a fine breeze from the south-east, a dense and driz 
 zly atmosphere, and surrounded by a darkness which could 
 almost be felt, the ship Rosamond, under snug sail, pursued 
 her course across the South Channel towards Cape Cod, 
 cleaving the water, and bounding along at the rate of eight 
 or nine knots, as if anxious to get to the end of the voyage. 
 
 At midnight, the captain being still on deck, the larboard 
 watch was roused out. When Mr. Digges came up, he 
 remarked to Mr. Hawkins that on such a night a lookout was 
 of little use, as before a vessel or any other object could be 
 seen, the ship's way could not be stopped or changed in time 
 to avert the danger. 
 
 "It is a risk we have got to run," said Mr. Hawkins. 
 " If any small coasting vessel, or fishing craft bound to 
 George's Bank, should be in our path, the Lord have mercy 
 on the poor fellows on board." 
 
 " Amen ! " said Mr. Digges, with an irreverent laugh. 
 " But the Rosamond has staunch bows, and my motto is, ' Let 
 the hardest fend off ! ' He then stepped forward into the 
 waist, and addressing the group of sailors standing by the 
 windlass, told them to keep their peepers peeled, and keep a 
 sharp lookout. 
 
 The order was hardly given, when Jack Radkin, who was 
 standing by the bowsprit bitts, called out, " Port your helm 1 
 hard-a-port ! a sail right ahead ! " 
 
 179 
 
180 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 And a black mass, blacker than the almost Cimmerian 
 darkness around, could be discerned about a point on the 
 larboard bow. It proved to be a small schooner, on a wind, 
 steering to the eastward, and crossing the bow of the ship. 
 
 While Mr. Digges rushed forward to the bows to see more 
 clearly the character of the danger, Captain Lamark reit 
 erated the directions given by Jack Radkin, and Mr. Haw 
 kins sprung to the wheel, and with a vigorous arm forced the 
 tiller hard-a-port. 
 
 It was too late ! The ship struck the schooner nearly 
 amidships, and crushed, capsized, and demolished the little 
 vessel, so that no remnant of her or her crew was ever after 
 wards seen, and hardly recoiling from or staggering on 
 account of the destructive blow she had gi^en, passed on 
 ward on her way, amid the terrific screams and agonizing 
 cries of the unfortunate men, thus called upon in the dead of 
 night, without a note of warning, to appear before their 
 Creator and answer for their sins ! 
 
 The Rosamond was hove-to as soon as it was practicable, 
 with a view to render assistance to the drowning sailors, 
 and ascertain the amount of injury the ship had sustained 
 in the conflict. But it was found impossible, on that dark 
 and stormy. night, to rescue any of the sinking men from 
 their dreadful fate, or even to find the spot where the col 
 lision took place. On examining the bows of the ship, it 
 was ascertained that the cutwater was carried away ; also 
 the martingale ; the jib-boom was broken short off, probably 
 by coming in contact with one of the schooner's masts. The 
 bowsprit was a little shaky, which endangered the stability 
 of the foremast, but the ship had sprung no leak, and in 
 half an hour was in a condition to proceed on her route. 
 
 But where was Mr. Digges ? In the confusion incident to 
 the shock, this officer for 'some time was not missed. But 
 when summoned by the captain to receive some instructions, 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 181 
 
 he could not be found. He was not in the ship ! When 
 last seen he was standing between the knight-heads, just as 
 the vessels came in contact, and in all likelihood was knocked 
 overboard by the shock, or by one of the falling spars. 
 
 And thus Mark Rowland, before he reached Lis home, 
 witnessed another thrilling scene, illustrating the danger 
 which attends a sailors occupation, and the uncertainty of 
 life among " those who go down to the sea in ships, and do 
 business on the great waters." 
 
 Soon after sunrise the next morning, the wind hauled 
 round to the south-west, and soon afterwards died away. 
 The clouds and mists dispersed, and the blessed sun shone 
 forth as if to gladden the hearts of the ship's company, after 
 the dark scenes they had passed through. Mark was early 
 aloft, and gazing intently on the western horizon, in expec 
 tation of seeing the land or a light-house, but no such wel 
 come object met his view. As he cast his eyes over the 
 waters, he beheld a number of vessels of diner ent charac 
 ters, and evidently bound in different directions. Sloops, 
 schooners, brigs, and ships, fishing-smacks, coasters, yachts, 
 European traders, and Indiamen, showing beyond all doubt 
 that the Rosamond was approaching a wealthy seaport, or a 
 coast rich in the commerce and enterprise of the inhabitants. 
 
 While he was admiring the scene, his heart overflowing 
 with joy at this evidence of the near termination of his mar 
 itime adventures, his attention was arrested by the spouting 
 of a couple of whales, not a hundred fathoms off, crossing 
 the bows. They soon afterwards showed themselves under 
 the stern, came up on the quarter, spouted, and disappeared 
 in the depths x>f the ocean, thrusting up their tails and 
 splashing the water about at a great rate as they went down. 
 They soon made their appearance again, and began to 
 frolic around the ship, and continued their antics until Mr. 
 Hawkins became offended at the liberties they were taking, 
 
 16 
 
182 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 and expressed a fear that unless rebuked they might become 
 too familiar, and ordered the steward to hand him a fowling- 
 piece from the cabin. This he loaded with a ball, and the 
 next time the huge, uncouth-looking monsters came up to 
 spout, he took deliberate aim at the back of the nearest one, 
 and fired. 
 
 That the bullet struck the whale there was no doubt, and 
 such an unkind salutation evidently made upon their minds 
 an unfavorable impression of our hospitality, for they sank 
 beneath the waters, sheered off, and sought some other field 
 for the practice of their gymnastic exercises. . 
 
 Among those who closely watched these proceedings was 
 Archie Stobbs. Notwithstanding he enacted the part of Am- 
 phitrite when crossing the line, there was little in the appear 
 ance of Archie that bordered on the feminine, excepting his 
 diminutive proportions. His features exhibited a ludicrous 
 absence of symmetry, were weather-beaten and case-hard 
 ened, having been a countless number of times soaked in 
 salt water and dried in the tropical sun. He had voyaged 
 to almost every part of the world, and had met with many 
 curious adventures. He took a deep interest in this visit 
 from these oily strangers, and exhibited anxiety and dis 
 pleasure when Mr. Hawkins proceeded to compliment them 
 with a bullet. 
 
 Mark took notice of the change in Archie's manner, habit 
 ually gay and cheerful, as the whales began to spout, and 
 listened with surprise to his murmur of satisfaction, when it 
 became evident that these clumsy monsters had gone off on 
 a cruise. Seeing Archie looking over the bow in the direc 
 tion which the strangers had apparently taken, Mark ap 
 proached him, and inquired if he knew anything about 
 whales ? 
 
 "About whales?" replied Archie ; "to be sure I do. J. 
 once shipped on a whaling-voyage, and passed through 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 183 
 
 scenes of a rough-and-tumble character which I shall never 
 forget, if I live to be a hundred years old. My flesh always 
 creeps when I see a whale, and I am willing that he should 
 pass on his way without being checked or annoyed." 
 
 "Archie," said Mark, with a persuasive smile, "Twish 
 you would tell me something about those rough-and-tumble 
 scenes you speak of. The whale is an interesting animal, 
 but I know little of his character or habits. That there are 
 many perils in the whale-fishery I have often heard." 
 . "Perils enough, my lad," said Archie, " to satisfy any 
 reasonable person. They won't catch me in a whaling-ship 
 again, anyhow. If you want to know something of my ex 
 perience in the business of whale-catching, I will give it to 
 you with pleasure." 
 
 Mark assured the good-natured tar that nothing would 
 give him greater satisfaction, upon which Archie turned 
 round, hitched up his trowsers, put his finger on his temple 
 in a reflective mood, ,then seated himself on the bowsprit 
 bitts, and shot ahead in the following style : ; 
 
 " My young friend, I once found myself in Rio Janeiro, 
 without money, friends, or a sliip, which I hope will never 
 prove to be your case, when the whaling barque Loon, be 
 longing to Nantucket, put into the harbor for supplies. The 
 barque was in want of men, having lost a whole boat's-crew 
 in an encounter with a sperm whale about a week before she 
 arrived in port. I gladly seized the opportunity to join her 
 and embark on a whaling-voyage. On leaving Rio we steered 
 directly for the Brazil Banks, a famous place for whales, and 
 men were stationed at the mast-head all day long on the 
 lookout. 
 
 . " One morning a cry was heard from aloft : l There she 
 spouts ! There she spouts ! An eighty-barrel whale, as 
 sure as I'm a sinner ! ' 
 
 " l ~ Where away ?' shouted Captain Stockman. 
 
184 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 " * Under the lee beam, about a couple of miles off! ' was 
 the reply. 
 
 " The bark was put off before the wind, the yards were 
 squared, and we ran down towards the big fish. All was 
 excitement. Our three whale-boats were ready for action, 
 and every man seemed eager to make the attack. I was 
 stationed in the second mate's boat, and as we neared the 
 fish the bark was hove-to, and the word was given to lower 
 away the boats and shove off. And away we went in full 
 chase after the whale. 
 
 " And now ensued a trial of strength and skill of a most 
 exciting character. The boats were commanded by the cap 
 tain and the two mates, each of whom seemed madly bent 
 on reaching the whale first, and sending a harpoon into his 
 body. 
 
 "I must confess I did not share the enthusiasm of the 
 officers and those of the crew who had been long in the 
 business. A whale is a powerful fish, and when in his tan 
 trums difficult to manage. The stories I had heard about 
 him did not place his character in the most amiable light. 
 I felt somewhat nervous as we drew towards the monster, 
 and would have given all my profits on the voyage to have 
 exchanged places with the ship-keeper who was left on board. 
 But it could not be. I was fairly in for it, and pulled heartily 
 at my oar, and tried to wear a bold face. 
 
 " I soon heard the captain and chief mate earnestly en 
 couraging the men in their respective boats to exert all their 
 strength to win the race, and Mr. Kamworth, the second 
 mate, who steered our boat, a tall and powerful man, was 
 not behind-hand in urging the men to the work. 
 
 " ; Pull men ! ' said he. ' Do pull ! Bend your backs to 
 the oars ! Send her ahead, like good fellows ! Let's be first 
 alongside ! Do pull for once in your lives ! Mr. Garvill's 
 boat is gaming on us ! Why don't you pull, you miserable, 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 185 
 
 lazy ragamuffins ? Why don't you lay out your strength ? 
 That's right ! There she shoots ahead ! Hurrah, keep that 
 stroke, and we shall be first on his hump ! Stand by, har- 
 pooner ! Stand by, and give it to him good ! ' 
 
 " When the whale rose again to the surface to spout, our 
 boat was about an oar's length ahead of the captain's boat, 
 and Mr. Kainworth steered directly for the body dt the whale. 
 As the boat came in contact with the fish, the harpooner, 
 standing in the bow of the boat, threw his instrument with 
 all the force of which he was master into the back of the 
 huge animal, at the same time exclaiming, ' Stern all ! ' 
 which was an order to back the boat astern with all possible 
 dispatch, in order to avoid a blow from the big fish's tail 
 while he was going down. 
 
 "And down he went down down, carrying with him an 
 immense length of line which was attached to the harpoon. 
 A hundred fathoms at least ran out before the line began to 
 slacken, a sign that he was again coming to the surface to 
 spout or breathe. We hauled upon the line to keep it tight, 
 while the persecuted animal rose to the top of the water, 
 when Mr. Kamworth was ready to thrust the deadly lance 
 into his vitals. The other boats were also on hand, and 
 their commanders with their lances assisted in the work. 
 
 " The whale again, convulsed with agony, disappeared from 
 view, but soon rose, and a shout of exultation sounded over 
 the water, from the crews of the boats, as they beheld the 
 monster spouting blood ! a sign that he had received his mor 
 tal wound. He lashed the waves with his enormous tail, 
 and made tremendous struggles in his dying moments, but 
 luckily the boats were kept out of his reach. His struggles 
 were too violent to last long. He turned over on his side, 
 and floated, a lifeless mass. 
 
 " The boats were fastened to the carcass, which was soon 
 towed alongside the ship. Tackles were made fast to it to 
 
186 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 keep it steady, and the operation of "flenching" com 
 menced ; that is, stripping the blubber from the back and 
 sides, and stowing it away on board, where it was after 
 wards tried out in immense try-pots. Being thus converted 
 into oil, it was deposited in casks, that were stowed in the 
 hold. 
 
 "A few Aiys after this successful attack on the whale, and 
 the whole operation was a new and deeply interesting one 
 to me, we made war upon another of these ponderous crea 
 tures. This proved to be a sperm whale, and an ugly, ob 
 stinate fellow into the bargain. He was struck by the cap 
 tain, and went down as if changed into lead. When he 
 came up, either by accident or design, he rose directly be 
 neath the second mate's boat, in which I was stationed, 
 which he struck with such force as to send it flying a dozen 
 feet in the air and spilling out the men and other contents, 
 in the most awkward and extraordinary manner imaginable. 
 The boat was shattered to pieces, and I was landed on the 
 back of the whale, stupified and badly hurt by the fall, and 
 hardly knowing what course to take. 
 
 ' " ' Jump overboard ! ' exclaimed the captain, who was in 
 his boat a few fathoms off, calmly surveying the scene, ' and 
 we will pick you up/ 
 
 "The whale, however, saved me the trouble ; for before I 
 could collect my scattered senses, he turned a sort of half 
 somerset, and threw me from his back into the water. As 
 my arm was broken in the fracas, and I never was much of 
 a swimmer, I should have been drowned had not the other 
 boats been at hand. Mr. Kamworth and one other of the 
 boat's crew were never seen after the boat was demolished. 
 The others were all saved without having received any seri 
 ous injury. Not having a chance to send a lance into this 
 whale, the rascal got away, carrying with him a couple of 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 187 
 
 harpoons, which must have tickled him to some purpose, and 
 two tubs of whale line. 
 
 "Several weeks passed before I was able to attend to my 
 duties, for, besides my broken arm, a couple of my ribs 
 were fractured, and what was of more importance, my nose 
 was put out of joint by a blow from one of the boat's 
 , thwarts, and my beauty was spoiled forever! While I was 
 laid up, the ship's company had managed to capture another 
 of these big fish, but the captain, disgusted with such slow 
 work, determined to change his fishing-ground, and accor 
 dingly we passed around Cape Horn, and entered the Pacific 
 Ocean. 
 
 " This proved to be a most unfortunate movement for the 
 owner, captain, and all hands. For my own part, I had al 
 ready got enough of the whaling business to satisfy any rea 
 sonable man, and should have been well content to have 
 gone home with half a cargo of oil ; but I was destined to 
 see more of the pleasant mysteries of the / whale-fishery ; 
 enough to last me my lifetime, should I live as many years 
 as Methuselah. 
 
 " One day, while cruising for -sperm whales, we fell in with a 
 monster of a fish. Captain Stockman, who had followed the 
 business for many years, said it was the largest whale he 
 ever met with, being at least one hundred feet in length. 
 He was an old cruiser, full of wickedness, a stranger to fear, 
 and probably owed the whalemen a grudge. It required 
 courage to attack a sperm whale of that size and character, 
 for they are exceedingly -knowing, and sometimes exercise 
 their immense strength and pow^r in a way which complete 
 ly turns the tables on their antagonists. Captain Stockman, 
 however, declared that he feared no whale that ever spouted, 
 and ordered the boats to be lowered. Away we went, full 
 of life and energy, with a determination to attack and con 
 quer this king of whales. 
 
188 MARK ROWLAND. . 
 
 ' The captain took the lead in the chase, but he was closely 
 followed by the other boats. The whale was moving lazily 
 about on the, top of the water as the boat approached him, 
 and the harpooner thrust two irons, one after the other, into 
 his massive sides. This unprovoked attack awakened him 
 with a vengeance. But instead of going down, in order to 
 escape from his enemies, and showing us his flukes, as a de 
 cent and well-behaved whale would have done, he turned 
 short round on his heel to face them and fight them. 
 
 " He saw the captain's boat, which was not ten fathoms off, 
 and rushed towards it with his jaws wide open. And, my 
 lad, you cannot conceive of a more dreadful, appalling sight, 
 than was witnessed by that ship's company, as the angry 
 monster rushed upon the boat* 
 
 " ' Pull for your lives, men ! ' screamed the captain. But 
 the men were stupified with horror. They uttered in chorus 
 one agonizing shriek, and the whale was upon them. He 
 seized the boat between his enormous jaws, and crushed it 
 like a craw-fish. The boat's crew, with one exception, bare 
 ly saved themselves from instant death by leaping into the 
 water. Poor Bob Merlin, whom fear had robbed of his 
 strength, shared the fate of the boat. The captain and the 
 remainder of the boat's crew were picked up by the two 
 other boats. 
 
 " Our attention was directed to the strange conduct of the 
 whale. He seemed really mad, swimming about on the sur 
 face, and furiously lashing the water with his tail. After 
 amusing himself in this manner a few minutes, he steered a 
 course which led him nearer the barque, which was still 
 lying-to. He soon saw the barque, and regarded her as his 
 mortal foe on which he was determined to wreak his ven 
 geance, for he increased his speed, and altered his course, 
 steering directly for the vessel. 
 
 "The savage animal rushed towards her with his mouth 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 189 
 
 open, to the great terror of our shipkeeper and cook, the 
 only persons on board. He seized the ship by the bends 
 with his teeth, and vainly attempted to demolish what he 
 undoubtedly supposed to be a huge animal. But finding his 
 efforts unsuccessful, as if gifted with reason, he went anoth 
 er way to work. He turned round and swam off some thir 
 ty or forty fathoms, then again changed front, and rushed 
 with almost lightning speed, directly towards the ship. 
 
 " His mouth was not open this time, but his hard, bony, and 
 enormous head struck the barque Loon on the starboard 
 bow, just beneath the fore chain-wales, with all the force of a 
 gigantic battering-ram, and crushed in the planks and tim 
 bers, making a wide hole, through which the water rushed 
 like a sluice-way. The ship filled in a few minutes and fell 
 over on her beam-ends. 
 
 " The mad whale, as if satisfied with the vengeance he had 
 inflicted on his enemies, turned about, and passing between 
 the two boats, which he did not seem to notice, and with the 
 two harpoons, whale lines and all, still sticking in his side, 
 swam rapidly off to the southward, and was soon lost to 
 view. 
 
 " We were now in a most distressing condition. Twenty 
 men in two whale-boats, adrift on the broad Pacific, without 
 sails, provisions, or water, excepting a couple of kegs which 
 had been put in the boats for immediate use, when the boats 
 first left the barque. The barque was full of water, and the 
 waves were breaking over her sides and decks, so we could 
 get nothing from the hold or steerage. Lingering death by 
 starvation seemed to be our certain destiny. In that hour 
 of distress, Captain Stockman, who was a pious man, prayed 
 to our heavenly Father to assist us and save us. 
 
 S 1 The men were equally divided between the two boats. 
 The captain took charge of one and the chief mate the other. 
 According to the captain's reckoning we were nearly in the 
 
190 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 latitude of the island of Masafuera when the disaster took 
 place, and about two hundred miles to the westward. This 
 island was the nearest land, and the captain ordered the 
 oars to be manned, and the boats to be pulled in that direc 
 tion, the course being indicated by the compass, there being 
 one in each boat, by day, and by the moon and stars by 
 night. 
 
 " The captain encouraged us all by his example and his 
 cheering words. He recommended that one half of each 
 boat's crew should labor at the oars while the others took 
 their rest. And he assured us that if we worked hard and 
 constantly, we might, with divine assistance, reach the land 
 before we became entirely exhausted by want of sustenance. 
 
 " There was comfort in his words, for life is sweet, and a 
 man will do much to prolong his days, however miserable 
 they may be. We promised to act on his suggestion, and 
 obey him in everything; and just as night came on, we 
 started off for the island of Masafuera, with the sea tolerably 
 smooth, and the wind light from the southward. And a 
 hard time we had of it, Mark, I assure you ; but we kept the 
 boat going through the water with her bows pointed towards 
 the island. We encouraged each 'other as well as we could, 
 and' bore our deprivations manfully, and during the first 
 twenty-four hours we must have proceeded at least a hun 
 dred miles. 
 
 " The boats kept company through the first night and the 
 following day, but on the second night the men became 
 weary, and suffered much for want of food and water, 
 the small quantity which we had in the boats when we left 
 the ship affording but slight relief. Their efforts at the oars 
 were not so steady and uninterrupted as at first. In the 
 middle of the night a squall arose, and we lost sight of our 
 companion, I being in the captain's boat, and we had much 
 
THE WHALE-FISHERY. 191 
 
 ado to keep the boat head to wind, to prevent her being 
 swamped. 
 
 " Towards morning the wind died away, and the sea became 
 comparati\ 7 ely smooth, and before the sun rose we looked 
 around with much anxiety for our consort, but to our great 
 grief and disappointment no boat was to be seen. The sea 
 had undoubtedly swept over her during the height of the 
 squall, and my unfortunate shipmates were drowned. 
 
 " On the third evening of our perilous voyage, soon after 
 sunset, having been about forty-eight hours in the boat, de 
 prived of all sustenance, and almost dying of fatigue and 
 hunger, the captain, whose courage and hope never for a 
 moment deserted him, after gazing intently in the direction 
 which we were steering, with a joyful shout announced the 
 glad tidings that land was in sight ! and directed our atten 
 tion to what appeared to be a low, dark, ragged cloud, rest 
 ing on the eastern horizon. This he told us was the island 
 of Masafuera. 
 
 " We moved slowly through the water the following night, 
 after resting on our oars, lest we should pass the island in 
 the darkness ; and when morning came, the island, a mass 
 of barren rocks, rising more than two thousand feet above 
 sea, was not more than fifteen miles off. With a good will 
 we pulled towards it, selected a spot where we could land in 
 safety, and sprang upon the shore, grateful to God for his 
 signal mercy in saving us from destruction. 
 
 " But our situation even now was far from enviable. Mas 
 afuera is an uninhabited island about ten miles in circumfer 
 ence, possessing no vegetation, and providing but scant 
 means for sustaining life. And our spirits were by no 
 means cheered by finding not far from the spot on which we 
 landed, and only a few fathoms from the beach, two human 
 skeletons, which told us a fearful story of suffering, and lin 
 gering death by starvation. 
 
192 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 " We found some water in the hollows of rocks, which 
 greatly refreshed us ; we also procured 'some shell-fish, and 
 knocked over a few birds, which we ate with a good appe 
 tite without cooking. But if we had had no boat by which 
 to leave the island, we should have been worse off than you 
 were on the island of St. Paul, with a far more distant pros 
 pect of being taken off by some passing vessel. 
 
 " After tarrying on the island a couple of days, and recov 
 ering somewhat from our fatigue, we again embarked in our 
 boat, still steering to the eastward, and on the second day 
 in the afternoon happily succeeded in landing on the famous 
 island of Juan Fernandez, where Robinson Crusoe many 
 years ago experienced some strange adventures, which I 
 dare say you have read about, Mark. We found on the 
 island some hospitable people, who treated us with kindness, 
 and provided us with the means of reaching Valparaiso. 
 From that port I worked my passage in a ship to Boston, 
 and of one thing I am certain, you will never catch me in a 
 whaling ship again. And as for whales, I always like to 
 give them a good berth, with the full understanding that if 
 they will let me alone, I will let them alone." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SAFELY LANDED. 
 
 IT was about eight o'clock when the breeze sprung up from 
 the southward, and in an hour afterwards, bearing three 
 points on the weather-bow, and looming up from the haze 
 which still hung low, Mark Rowland saw from aloft the 
 whole structure of the lofty light-house, and the high, uneven 
 lands on the back of Cape Cod. 
 
 " Land ho ! " he shouted, with delight, and hastened down 
 on deck. 
 
 "Land ho!" was joyfully responded by the officers and 
 men. " Hurrah ! Cape Cod is in sight ! " 
 
 The land could now be seen from the deck, and the course 
 of the ship being slightly altered, and the sails trimmed 
 accordingly, she rapidly appr6ached that wild-looking, unin 
 viting coast, the first land seen by the Pilgrim Fathers, 
 which in the gloomy month of December must have looked 
 terribly grim and forbidding ; and by twelve o'clock that 
 day the ship was up with Race Point, and had fairly entered 
 Massachusetts Bay. 
 
 The^ harbor of Provincetown was now plainly in sight, and 
 soon was seen the range of coast in the vicinity of Plymouth, 
 immortalized by the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, and, in 
 swift succession, the high lands of Marshfield, Cohasset 
 Rocks, the Blue Hills in" the distance, Boston light-house, 
 and Point Alderton, with the dark and broken ledges of 
 
 17 193 
 
194 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 rocks which line the entrance to Boston harbor, while ships, 
 brigs, schooners, sloops, and sail-boats, with their snow- 
 white sails, dotted the smooth sea in every direction. 
 
 As Mark Rowland gazed admiringly on the scene, and 
 spoke enthusiastically in its praise, old Jack Radkin shook 
 his head, and showed by his looks that the scene had no 
 charms for him. 
 
 u Is not this a cheerful sight, Jack?" inquired Mark. 
 " Can there be anything more beautiful than Massachusetts 
 Bay ? How mild and balmy the atmosphere ! How smooth 
 the waters ! How clear and distinct the wavy outline of the 
 land ! " 
 
 " Oh," replied Jack, with a grim smile, "this is all well 
 enough at this pleasant season of the year, returning home 
 in a fine ship, with a quiet sea and a fair wind. But to 
 judge fairly of its character, you should see it in a heavy 
 north-east gale, blowing right on shore, with a raging sea like 
 a range of young mountains, rolling in all the way from 
 Cape Sable ; the weather thick and rainy ; breakers ahead or 
 under your lee on either tack ; your ship deeply laden, and 
 driven almost bodily to leeward ; and you have the choice 
 of two evils, to cut away your masts by the deck, let go 
 all your anchors, and try to ride it out in poor holding 
 ground, or plump her ashore on the beach, with about one 
 chance in ten of reaching the shore alive." 
 
 " If you want to see Boston Bay in all its glory," said 
 Archie Stobbs, joining in the conversation, " you should 
 come on the coast, as I have done, in the winter season, in a 
 leaky ship, after a long passage across the Atlantic, short of 
 provisions and water, sails all blown to pieces, men worn out 
 and discouraged with hard work, famine, and exposure ; your 
 ship covered with a solid body of ice a foot thick ; running 
 rigging too stiff to be used ; the thick sheets of spray dash 
 ing over the decks, fore and aft ; the forecastle, bed-clothes, 
 
, * SAFELY LANDED. 195 
 
 and jackets, soaked with salt water, and the wind blowing 'a 
 hurricane directly out of the bay, f with the thermometer at 
 zero ! Ah, my lad, if you were to witness a few scenes of 
 this description, you would know how to value plenty of sea- 
 room, off soundings, and talk less about a sailor's pleasures 
 in coming on the coast.*' 
 
 " I talk of it as I find it," said Mark ; " but, after this 
 description of your experience, Archie, and Jack Radkin's 
 glowing account of the charms of Massachusetts Bay in a 
 north-east storm, you will never catch me coming on the New- 
 England coast in the winter season ; " and he added, in a 
 lower tone, " or in any other season." 
 
 If the truth must be told, Mark's adventures on the island 
 of St. Paul, and the dark scenes he had witnessed, typical 
 of a sailor's life, had no attractions in his eyes ; they were 
 by no means to his taste. Indeed, he was strongly inclined 
 to believe that those who wrote prose and poetry in praise 
 of the sea, and described in glowing terms the pleasurable 
 excitement, the wild joys and sunshine of a sailor's life, were 
 little better than arrant humbugs, and either knew nothing 
 of the trials, temptations, and perils, of a life at sea, or, 
 like the fox who had lost his tail, were desirous that others 
 should undergo the same pain and humiliation which he him 
 self had suffered. 
 
 His bosom throbbed with delight at the near prospect of 
 embracing his mother and the dear ones whom he left in the 
 humble cottage at Glenmaple. But his features became 
 clouded with apprehension, when he reflected that a year and 
 a half had passed since he left his home, and unforeseen evils 
 might have befallen them during his absence. He deter 
 mined, however, that, if ho should succeed in getting once 
 more snugly seated at his mother's fireside, he would never 
 voluntarily separate from hor again ; their fortunes, whether 
 for weal or woe, henceforth should be the same. 
 
196 
 
 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 The ship Rosamond arrived off Boston light-house about 
 six o'clock in the evening, but the wind being light, and the 
 tide on the ebb, it was found expedient to anchor in the 
 roads, and the ship did not reach the city until the next 
 morning. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock when Mark lightly bounded on 
 the wharf, and, with a joyous heart, proceeded to the count 
 ing-room of Mr. Fortesque. That gentleman did not im 
 mediately recognize him, rigged as he was in a neat and 
 becoming suit of clothes, purchased at the Cape of Good 
 Hope, and rejoicing in features bronzed by exposure to the 
 sun for many months ; besides, Mark had grown nearly a 
 head taller, and looked far more like a man than the simple 
 country lad whom he parted with on the wharf some eighteen 
 months before. 
 
 But when Mr. Fortesque found it was Mark Rowland who 
 was before him, the bright-looking boy who had left Boston 
 in the ship Saladin, and whom he believed to have been lost 
 by some, mishap on the island of St. Paul, he eagerly 
 grasped his hand, and could hardly contain his astonishment 
 and pleasure. He made him sit down, and give a full de 
 scription of his adventures, to which he listened with intense 
 interest. When Mark had finished his story, Mr. Fortesque 
 again shook him by the hand, congratulated him on his good 
 fortune in escaping from the island and taking with him 
 such a rich prize, and promised to be a friend to him through 
 life. He advised him in regard to the disposition of the 
 merchandise belonging to him on board the Rosamond, and 
 supplied him with money for his immediate wants, and thus 
 anticipated the kind offers of the generous-hearted Captain 
 Lamark. 
 
 The next morning Mark Rowland, with buoyant spirits, 
 'entered the railroad car which would convey him some thirty 
 miles on the route towards his native village of Glenmaple. 
 
SAFELY LANDED. 197 
 
 The mode of conveyance was new to him, but he liked it on 
 account of the rapidity with which it hurried him towards 
 his home. Soon after he was seated, a gentleman with his 
 wife and a little girl came into the car. The lady and gen 
 tleman took the seat immediately behind him ; while the 
 girl, a bright-eyed, intelligent-looking fairy, some ten or 
 twelve years of age, took the vacant seat by his side. The 
 cars started, and Mark and the little girl engaged in 
 conversation, which to him was a source of great pleasure, 
 as he had so long been debarred from the society of those 
 sweeteners of existence, women and children. 
 
 The attention of Mark was soon arrested by a name which 
 was marked on the kerchief which the girl held in her hand, 
 "EUaRimngtont" 
 
 " Is that your name ? " said he. 
 
 " Yes," she replied. 
 
 " What is your father's name?" 
 
 " James Stanley Rivington." 
 
 ," Where is your father now? " inquired Mark, in a voice 
 and manner so excited as almost to frighten the little girl. 
 
 " There he sits, right behind you," said she. 
 
 Mark turned his head quickly, and found himself face to 
 face with Mr. and Mrs. Rivington, the same persons who 
 were rescued from the wreck of the ship Clarion, of Salem, 
 on the passage of the ship Saladin towards the equator. 
 
 Mr. Rivington had but recently arrived from South Amer 
 ica. He was still connected with a mercantile house in 
 Boston, doing a large business with Brazil, and, with his 
 wife and daughter, was now on a visit to his parents, who 
 resided in a town forty miles from Boston, and through 
 which the railroad passed. 
 
 One of the first acts of Mr. Rivington on his arrival at 
 Boston, was to call on Mr. Fortesque, the owner of the ship 
 Saladin, and express his deep sense of the noble conduct of 
 
 17* 
 
198 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 Captain Somers and the whole ship's company, in rescuing 
 him and his wife from a dreadful death, and ministering to 
 their comfort after they were taken on board the ship. He 
 spoke in exalted terms of the activity, intelligence, and 
 worth of the cabin-boy, Mark Rowland, in whose success in 
 life he said he felt an especial interest, and was greatly 
 shocked to learn he had met with a fatal accident on a 
 desert isle in the midst of the ocean. 
 
 This unexpected rencounter in a railroad car was, indeed, 
 a joyous 'one. Mr. Rivington owed Mark a debt of grati 
 tude for having discovered the sunken wreck, and he and his 
 wife had deeply mourned what they believed to be his sad 
 and untimely fate. They indulged in heartfelt pleasure at 
 meeting him again ; at not only finding him alive, but im 
 proved in strength, beauty, and manliness. 
 
 The sailor-boy and the merchant had much to say to each 
 other, and it seemed as if they had hardly exchanged con 
 gratulations, before the train reached the station at which 
 Mark was to take the stage-coach to Glenmaple. Anxious 
 to see his mother, Mark resisted the pressing invitation of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Rivington to go on with them, and pass a day 
 or two with their relations. 
 
 " Well, Mark," said Mr. Rivington, " I shall be absent 
 from my business but a few days, and when you return to 
 Boston, I shall" expect you to come directly to my house. 
 It is easily found, and you may be sure of a hearty wel 
 come." 
 
 "Yes," added Mrs. Rivington, "you must take up your 
 abode with- us while you are in the city. I shall always look 
 upon you as a near and valued friend, as belonging to us." 
 
 Mark was greatly embarrassed by such manifestations of 
 kindness, and was proceeding to disclaim any merit or ser 
 vices on his part that entitled him to such favor, when he 
 was interrupted' by little Ella, who said, " Oh, you must 
 
SAFELY LANDED. 199 
 
 coine, Mark. You don't know how much father and mother 
 have talked about you since they came home ; and mother 
 cried when she told me how you fell off the rocks into the 
 sea, and was drowned. Promise me that you will come." 
 
 Mark Rowland promised. 
 
 He had to wait fully an hour at the railway station, before 
 the stage was ready to start ; and that hour, while he was 
 lounging about the rooms, jostling against strangers in 
 whom he took no interest, and watching the movements 
 of the clock, which he thought, once or twice, had stopped, 
 it moved so slow, seemed the longest hour of his life. 
 
 But time passed onward with steady, measured steps, and 
 the stage-coach made its appearance. The driver promised 
 Mark that before sunset he should be safely landed within 
 a stone's throw of his mother's door. The roads were in 
 good condition, and the horses travelled rapidly over the 
 ground, but to Mark they seemed to be crawling along at a 
 snail's pace. 
 
 Notwithstanding his impatience to get to the end of his 
 journey, when he reached the farm-house in Westville, where 
 he was so hospitably entertained on his journey to Boston, he 
 called on the driver to stop. He recognized the place, and 
 saw Mr. Drummond, with his well-remembered, benevolent 
 visage, near the doorway, busy about some ",chores." Mark 
 jumped out of the coach, and grasped the astonished farmer 
 by the hand, who could hardly be persuaded that this was 
 the boy who had once passed a night beneath his roof, on 
 his way to the great city, determined to try his fortunes on 
 the sea, 
 
 Mr. Drummond called out his wife, who greeted Mark 
 right cordially ; for the kind-hearted couple had felt quite an 
 interest in his success, and had often talked of him during 
 the past year, and wondered what had been the result of his 
 bo3'ish enterprise. 
 
200 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 After a few minutes conversation, at a hint from the 
 driver, Mark resumed his seat. The stage-coach passed 
 on. And while Mark is on his way to visit his dearly- 
 loved home, we will take a look at some other persons, and 
 inquire into events which occurred at Glenmaple, while he 
 was a solitary inhabitant of the island of St. Paul, or wit 
 nessing the strange scenes which chequer the life of a sailor. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CLOTJDS AND SUNSHINE. 
 
 THE ship Saladin, in which Mark Rowland sailed from 
 Boston, after having encountered the furious squall near the 
 island of St. Paul, and being driven away to leeward, pro 
 ceeded slowly on her way, attempting to get to the south 
 ward, Captain Somers deeply lamenting the fatal accident 
 that had befallen the cabin-boy, who was, as has already 
 been remarked, a general favorite. The captain, after hear 
 ing the representations of Mr. Smeaton, the second mate, 
 did not for a moment doubt that the little fellow had fallen 
 from a precipice into the deep water at its base, and, not 
 withstanding his skill as a swimmer, had been drowned. 
 Even if he had reason to suppose Mark might still be alive 
 on that barren island, any attempt to render him assistance 
 would have been unsuccessful, as the deeply-laden ship, after 
 running off so far to leeward, could never have beat up to 
 the island against the trade- wind and a strong current. Cap 
 tain Somers -shuddered when he thought of the fate of the 
 poor boy who was intrusted to his charge by Mr. Fortesque, 
 and who promised to prove himself worthy of the interest 
 which that merchant took in his fortunes. He shuddered 
 when he thought of the anguish his friends would experi 
 ence when they should hear of his melancholy fate. 
 
 I have already said that the Saladin was a dull-sailing 
 ship, and after putting Mr. and Mrs. Rivington on board a 
 
 vessel bound to Pernambuco, this vessel continued to fall to 
 
 201 
 
202 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 leeward of her route, insomuch that Captain Somers deemed 
 it expedient to put into some port in Brazil, in order to pro 
 cure a supply of provisions. Accordingly, in three weeks 
 after leaving the island of St. Paul, the ship entered the 
 port of San Salvador, or as it is often called, Bahia, situ 
 ated on the north-western side of the large and beautiful 
 Bay of All Saints. From this port Captain Somers wrote 
 to his employer, Mr. Fortesque, and gave him all the partic 
 ulars relating to the landing of the boat's crew on the island 
 of St. Paul, and the supposed melancholy fate of Mark 
 Eowland. Mr. Fortesque was grieved at the intelligence; 
 he had taken a great fancy to Mark, and predicted that he 
 would make his way successfully through the world. He 
 lost no time in writing a letter to Mrs. Rowland, acquaint 
 ing her with the sad event, condoling with her on her irre 
 parable misfortune, and giving her words of consolation and 
 kindness. 
 
 But how shall I describe the anguish of the afflicted widow 
 when she read the letter which conveyed intelligence of the 
 death of her son. " He had fallen from a high cliff" so 
 ran the words " into the sea beneath, and was drowned." 
 
 After reading this sad missive, the language of which was 
 terribly explicit, Mrs. Rowland could not cherish the slight 
 est hope of ever seeing her son again. " My brave boy ! " 
 she exclaimed. " He exposed himself to the perils which 
 beset the life of a sailor, not altogether because he longed 
 for a roving life, and yearned to see more of the world and 
 mingle in its busiest scenes, but chiefly for the purpose of 
 contributing to my support, and that of his brother and sis 
 ter. He went abroad to diminish my cares, and furnish us 
 all with the necessaries and comforts of life. My noble boy ! 
 To meet such a terrible death far away from his home ! I 
 shall never see him again on earth, but we shall meet in 
 heaven." 
 
CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 203 
 
 The fate of Mark Rowland was soon known in the village 
 of Glenmaple, and many friendly persons called upon the 
 widow to console her in affliction, and whisper words of com 
 fort in her ear. But their well-meant kindness failed to pro 
 duce the effect intended. She felt grateful for the sympathy 
 of her neighbors, but she was crushed to the earth by the 
 weight of her sorrow. 
 
 More than twelve months passed away after she heard of 
 the death of her son, and Time, " the great consoler," had 
 brought no sunshine to her heart. Her features, pallid and 
 wan, were overspread with a settled gloom. Her thoughts 
 still dwelt unceasingly on the excellence and affection of her 
 boy. Tokens of his devoted love, his industry, and his wis 
 dom above his years, met her at every turn, and re-awakened 
 from hour to hour her deep-seated grief. 
 
 Nevertheless, the heart-stricken widow did not forget that 
 two lovely and promising children still clung to her for sup 
 port. Since she learned that Mark had perished, she loved 
 them, if possible, with a more devoted affection than before. 
 Instead of remitting her usual labors, and abandoning her 
 self to grief, she worked harder than ever, insomuch that 
 her health, never robust, gave way, and she saw before her 
 but a dark and gloomy prospect, in the foreground of which 
 stood Poverty and Disease, and, in the background, the 
 Almshouse and a tomb ! 
 
 Mrs. Rowland was one afternoon seated at the back win 
 dow of her little cottage. She was feeble, and unusually 
 pale, for she had that day exerted herself beyond her 
 strength. The hand of sorrow and sickness had drawn deep 
 furrows across her once radiant and becoming features. She 
 had sent her little boy, Albert, on an errand to procure a 
 loaf of bread, for neither herself nor children had tasted 
 aught since their scanty morning meal, and she had no re 
 sources for the following day. Little Ellen was seated on a 
 
204 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 cricket by her side, reading aloud some passages from a 
 story-book that had been given her by one of her school 
 mates. 
 
 Mrs. Rowland appeared to be listening attentively, but her 
 mind was elsewhere. She was thinking of her poverty,, of 
 her broken health, and the destitute condition to which her 
 children would be reduced, if she, their only stay and sup 
 port, should be removed by the hand of death. The sun was 
 sinking beneath a distant range of hills in the west, which, 
 perhaps, added to the depression of her spirits. 
 
 At this moment Albert rushed into the house, his face 
 flushed with excitement, and exclaimed, with an animated 
 voice, " Oh, mother, the stage has just stopped at the head 
 of the lane, and a strange gentleman has got out, with a big 
 trunk ; and he is coming towards the house ! " 
 
 It was so seldom that a case of this kind occurred, for 
 the poor and humble have few visitors, that Mrs. Rowland 
 was startled at the abrupt announcement. " Who is it, 
 Albert ? " inquired the widow of her son. 
 
 " I don't know," said Albert ; " but I guess he does not 
 mean any haTm, mother, for he looks as smiling and happy 
 as if he had good news to tell you." 
 
 A sort of indefinite sensation, akin to hope, passed 
 through the bosom of the widow at this intelligence ; but 
 tarried only for an instant. She felt there was no room for 
 hope. She rose from her chair, and, with steps unsteady 
 through weakness, walked towards the door to inquire the 
 business of the stranger, who, with features lighted up with 
 smiles, was about to visit the abode of sorrow, want, and 
 disease. 
 
 She heard a step on the threshold. She lifted the latch, 
 and beheld before her, with eyes sparkling with rapture, and 
 a ruddy, sun-burnt visage, expressing the best emotions of 
 
CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 205 
 
 the human heart, her long-lost boy, her son Mark, whose 
 death she had for many months unceasingly mourned. 
 
 " Mother !" exclaimed Mark, in a well-remembered voice, 
 " dear mother ! I have come back to bring you joy and 
 competence ; and we shall never part again." 
 
 Mrs. Rowland was so overcome by her feelings, so over 
 whelmed with joy and astonishment combined, that it was 
 some minutes before she was able to say a word. She wept, 
 and kissed her long-lost son in silence ; and, prompted by a 
 feeling of piety, of gratitude towards her Maker for restor 
 ing the lost one to her arms, sunk on her knees, and poured 
 out her fervent thanks for the blessing with which she was 
 crowned. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that, after the entrance of 
 Mark, there was no longer hunger or sorrow in that humble 
 dwelling. Provisions in abundance were procured from the 
 nearest inn, and the children, as well as the mother, made a 
 joyous meal. And I question whether kings or princes, in 
 their gorgeous palaces, ever tasted a delight more pure and 
 exstatic than was enjoyed by that humble and virtuous fam 
 ily that evening, while the sailor-boy was relating the tale 
 of his adventures, and ever and anon answering the never- 
 ending questions of his brother and sister. 
 
 Mrs. Rowland clung closely to her son, as if she feared 
 the whole was a blissful dream, and that she might in a few 
 minutes awake to find her joy changed to sorrow, and the 
 cottage again turned into a place of mourning. It was at a 
 late hour when the members of that now happy family re 
 tired to rest. 
 
 My tale is finished. Mr. Fortesque, as well as Mr. Riv- 
 ington and Captain Lamark, proved a faithful friend to 
 Mark Rowland. The treasure which the forlorn sailor-boy 
 found among the rocks on the island of St. Paul was in 
 creased by the prudent management of Captain Lamark, and 
 
 18 
 
206 MARK ROWLAND. 
 
 being judiciously invested, produced a handsome annual 
 income. Mark was thus enabled to gratify the darling 
 wish of his heart, improve his education ; and also extend 
 that blessing, with many others, to his brother Albert and his 
 sister Ellen. 
 
 His eighteen months' cruise in the ships Saladin and Ro 
 samond, including his sufferings for months on a desert 
 island, banished from the mind of Mark Rowland any yearn 
 ings after wild adventures and salt-water scenes. At a 
 proper time he entered the counting-room of Rivington & 
 Co., in Boston, and applied himself unremittingly to his du 
 ties, being determined to qualify himself to become, not " a 
 merchant prince," or any other kind of prince, but a BOSTON 
 MERCHANT, in the truest and noblest sense of the term. 
 His happiness was established on a firm basis, when he se 
 cured the affections of Ella Rivington, a bright and bloom 
 ing woman, every way fitted to be the companion and wife 
 of a man of intelligence and worth. 
 
 They were married, and Mark became a partner in the 
 firm. He is now at its head, and is known as a highly re 
 spected, useful, and influential member of society. He is 
 philosopher enough to enjoy, in their fullest extent, and with 
 feelings of pious gratitude, the blessings with which he is 
 crowned, and Christian enough to thank God that he is able 
 as well as willing to minister to the happiness of others. 
 
 THE END. 
 
MARGARET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS, 
 
 By the Author of " THE QUEEN OP THE COUNTY." 
 I vol., I2mo. Elegant fancy doth. Price $1.75. 
 
 This fascinating story of " Six School Girls " is as charm 
 ing a story as has been written for young ladies. The 
 talented author has a great reputation in England, and all 
 her books are widely circulated and read. " Faith Gartney's 
 Girlhood" and "Margaret and her Bridesmaids" should 
 stand side by side in every young lady's book-case. Read 
 what the London Athenaeum, the highest literary authority, 
 says of it : " We may save ourselves the trouble of giving 
 any lengthened review of this book, for we recommend all 
 who are in search of a fascinating novel to read it for them 
 selves. They will find it well worth their while. There is a 
 freshness and originality about it quite charming, and there 
 is a certain nobleness in the treatment, both of sentiment 
 and incident, which is not often found. We imagine that 
 few can read it without deriving some comfort or profit from 
 the quiet good sense and unobtrusive words of counsel with 
 which it abounds." 
 
 The story is very interesting. It is the history of six 
 school-fellows. Margaret, the heroine, is, of course, a 
 woman in the highest state of perfection. But Lotty the 
 little, wilful, wild, fascinating, brave Lotty is the gem of 
 the book, and, as far as our experience in novel reading goes, 
 is an entirely original character a creation and a very 
 charming one. No story that occurs to our memory contains 
 more interest than this for novel readers, particularly those 
 of the tender sex, to whom it will be a dear favorite. 
 
 We hope the authoress will give us some more novels, as 
 good as u Margaret and her Bridesmaids." 
 
THE QUEEN OF THE COUNTY, 
 
 By the Author of " MARGARET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS." 
 1 vol., I2mo. Elegant fancy cloth. Price $1.75. 
 
 Of all the books published or republished by Mr. Loring, this 
 winter, this is the best. Yet when asked what we like so much in 
 it, we find it difficult to tell and leave our explanations midway, to 
 indulge in such young-lady isms as " Charming ! " " Delightful ! " 
 " Beautiful 1" Is the story new? Oh, no, it is quite common, a 
 mere love story, a fall from a horse, a declaration of love, a death 
 or two. Has it character? Again, no. The persons written about 
 are every day characters. We come then tp the style of the book, 
 what of that? Ah, yes, now we have it, herein lies the charm; 
 not the diction merely, but in the simple unassuming way in which 
 the story is told. An old lady, beautiful with " the spirit's youth 
 which never passes by," sits down by our side and tells us the story 
 of her life. She gives us an autobiography without calling it such, 
 and best of all, without apologizing for it. She points no moral } 
 she has too much delicacy for that. She speaks of the beauty of 
 her youth without vanity or false modesty as of any beautiful work 
 of her Creator. She deems, the frank trustfulness of youth one of 
 life's least follies. She pours out with her recollections all the 
 sweetness and loveliness of a glorious soul, and with no thought 
 that she does so. The book has sentiment but no sentimentality. 
 There are humorous passages, pathetic passages and passages 
 exceeding sorrowful. 
 
 A writer of less talent, with those incidents and characters, would 
 have given us a sensation novel. But the book reveals its author to 
 be possessed of delicacy a gift as rare as genius. She makes no 
 parade of grief, nor does she state it to be sacred, but she treats it 
 us if it were so. She does not prate of joy in high-flown phrase, 
 but speaks of it naturally, and in a sane manner as people whom we 
 meet every day do. The book is characterized by an absence of all 
 attempt at effect. It is not bookish. We have not read the story ; 
 an old lady with a beautiful face told it to us. We have known her 
 and loved her, and now we reverence her memory. We revisit old 
 scenes and we think of what she told us of "A Walk in Childhood," 
 and of the exquisite regret and tenderness with which she told it 
 the mice in the nursery ; the old nurse with her prophetic dreams-; 
 the closet where the pooj girl "Bell" hurried 'through her meals ; 
 the bridge with its crowd of goody-venders, and the little deformed 
 child who sold night-caps; the barber; the "Claggum" shop; all 
 these are become as familiar as our own childhood. 
 
 Among the characters "Lissy" stands out starched and "prim," 
 her reproofs and assertions knowing no verb but "ought," and 
 Buffy starts forth from his dark closet in his tight nankeen suit, and 
 we hear his thin voice moaning, " I wis' I was Mother Hubbard's 
 dog." We cannot doubt that the place for this book is among stand 
 ard English novels. For humor, geniality, ease of diction, purity of 
 thought, delineation of character, though not perhaps for compre 
 hensiveness, it deserves a high place. Yet this one book cannot 
 place the author, though the book itself be placed. We should 
 gladly welcome any further productions from the pen which has 
 written the " Queen of the County," giving us such vivid pictures 
 of English life sixty or seventy years ago, and giving them, too, 
 With such delicate touches of grace aud beauty. M. 
 
IVIAINSTONE'S HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 By Miss ELIZA METEYARD (SILVERPEN). 
 1 vol., 12mo. Elegant fancy doth. Price $ 1.75. 
 
 Douglas Jerrold gave this distinguished English authoress 
 this " nom deplume" and her style has the point, brightness, 
 and delicacy which it suggests. This is not a cook book as 
 the title might mislead some to suppose, but a fresh, vigorous, 
 powerful story of English country life, full of exquisite pic 
 tures of rural scenery, with a plot which is managed with 
 great skill, and a surprise kept constantly ahead so that from 
 the opening to the close the interest never flags. There is 
 life in every page and a fresh, delicate, hearty sentiment per 
 vades the book that exhilarates and charms indescribably. 
 
 The heroine Charlotte the housekeeper is one of the 
 finest characters ever drawn, and merits unqualified commen 
 dation. 
 
 As a whole, for beauty of style and diction, passionate eai> 
 nestness, effective contrasts, distinctness of plot, unity, and 
 completeness, this novel is without a rival. It is a " mid 
 night darling " that Charles Lamb would have exulted in, 
 and perhaps the best as yet produced from a woman's pen. 
 
SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION 
 
 BY ANNE BEALE. 
 1 vol. , 12mo. Elegant fancy cloth. Price $1.75. 
 
 It is not often that such a sound and yet readable English 
 novel is republished in America. 
 
 The due mean between flashiness and dulness is hard to 
 be attained, but we have it here. 
 
 There is neither a prosy page nor a sensational chapter 
 in it. 
 
 It is a nice book for a clean hearth and an easy chair. 
 
 It is a natural, healthy book, written by a living person, 
 about people of flesh and blood, who might have been our 
 neighbors, and of events, which might happen to anybody. 
 This is a great charm in a novel. This leaves a clean taste 
 in the mouth, and a delicious memory of the feast. 
 
 The tone of it is high and true, without being obtrusively 
 good. Such a book is as great a relief amid the sensation 
 al stories of the day, as a quiet little bit of " still life " is to 
 the eye, after being blinded by the glaring colors of the French 
 school. 
 
 This novel reproduces that exquisite tone or flavor so hard 
 to express which permeates true English country life, and 
 gives to it a peculiar charm unlike any other, which one hav 
 ing once seen and felt, lives as it were under a spell, and 
 would never willingly allow to fade from their memory. 
 
 Too much cannot be said in praise of Simplicity and Fas 
 cination. 
 
^f' PIQUE: ym 
 
 A Tale of the English Aristocracy, 
 
 1 vol., 12mo. Elegant fancy cloth. Price $ 1.75. 
 
 Three thousand eight hundred and seventy-six new books 
 were published in England this last year, which is about the 
 average number of past years. 
 
 Thirteen years ago PIQUE was first published in London, 
 and up to the present time, notwithstanding the enormous 
 number of new books issued, the effect of which is to crowd 
 the old ones out of sight, this remarkable novel has con 
 tinued to have a large sale. 
 
 This is the strongest praise that can be bestowed on any 
 book. It is not in the least " sensational," but relies solely 
 on its rare beauty of style and truthfulness to nature for its 
 popularity. 
 
 It has the merit of being amusing, pleasantly written, and 
 engrossing. 
 
 The characters being high-bred men and women, are 
 charming companions for an hour's solitude, and one puts the 
 book aside regretfully, even as one closes the eyes on a deli 
 cious vision. The American edition has taken every one by 
 surprise, that so remarkably good a novel should have so 
 long escaped attention. 
 
 Every body is charmed with it, and its sale will continue 
 for years to come. 
 
FAITH GARTNEY'S GIRLHOOD, 
 
 By the Author of " TUB GAYWORTHYS," " BOYS AT CHKQUASSET " 
 1 vol., 12mo. Elegant fancy cloth. Pnc6 $ 1.75. 
 
 This charming story fills a void long felt for something for 
 a young girl, growing into womanhood, to read. 
 
 It depicts that bewitching period in life, lying between 
 FOURTEEN and TWENTY, with its noble aspirations, and fresh 
 enthusiasms. It is written by a very accomplished lady, and 
 is " the best book ever written for girls." 
 
 A lady of rare culture says, 
 
 " ' Faith Gartney's Girlhood,' is a noble, good work, that 
 could only have been accomplished by an elevated mind 
 united to a chaste, tender heart. From the first page to the 
 last, the impression is received of a life which has been 
 lived; the characters are genuine, well drawn, skilfully 
 presented; they are received at once with kind, friendly 
 greeting, and followed with interest, till the last page com 
 pels a reluctant farewell. 
 
 " ' The book is written for girls, growing as they grow to 
 womanhood.' The story has an interest, far beyonr 1 that 
 found in modern romances of the day, conveyed in pure, 
 refined language ; suggestive, pleasing thoughts are unfolded 
 on every page ; the reflective and descriptive passages are 
 natural, simple, and exquisitely finished. 
 
 " In these days, when the tendency of society is to educate 
 girls for heartless, aimless, factitious life, a book like this is 
 to be welcomed and gratefully received. Wherever it is 
 read, it will be retained as a thoughtful, suggestive if 
 silent friend." 
 
A LOST LOVE. ' 
 
 BY ASHFORD OWEN. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo. Elegant fancy Cloth, with a Portrait of the Heroine 
 Price $1.25 
 
 A few years ago a number of American novel readers got 
 hold of a modest little English volume, entitled "A Lost 
 Love," by Ashford Owen, and spread its reputation greatly 
 in private companies by adjuring all their acquaintances to 
 read it. 
 
 The book cannot fail to have a run, because it is thor 
 oughly original in spirit, incident, sentiment, and character, 
 and though the farthest in the world from being a u sensa 
 tional " story, it will give the most blase novel reader a new 
 sensation. It is a quietly intense representation of deep yet 
 simple feeling and sentiment, in its development under unfa 
 vorable circumstances, and leaves on the heart a far finer 
 ideal impression than most of the novels which do not equal 
 it in reality and truth. We know nothing about the author, 
 and it may be that his or her vein Was exhausted in the pro 
 duction of a first book ; but the vein itself, though it may be 
 thin, is of pure gold. 
 
 I^P Read what the English Press says of it : 
 
 The London Athenceum, says: " It is a story, full of grace and 
 genius. We recommend our readers to get the book for them 
 selves. No outline of the story would give any idea of its 
 beauty." 
 
 The Saturday Review, says: "A striking, and original story: a 
 work of genius and sensibility." 
 
 The Westminster Review, says: "A real picture of a woman's 
 life ; one who, while loving and thirsting to be loved, can give up 
 her one hope in life, when sympathy and good sense demand the 
 sacrifice." 
 
 The Quarterly Review, says : "A novel of great genius ; beauti 
 ful and true as life itself." " 
 
 The Press, says : "A tale at once moving and whining, natural 
 and romantic, and certain to raise all the finer sympathies of the 
 reader's nature. Its deep, pure sentiment, and admirable style, 
 will win for it a lasting place in English fiction, as one of the 
 truest and most touching pictures of woman's love." 
 
THE GAYWORTHYS. 
 
 By the author of "FAITH GARTNEY'S GIRLHOOD," "BOYS AT 
 
 CHEQUASSET." * 
 
 F" American ladies and gentlemen travelling in. England, are 
 amazed and delighted to find "an American Novel" welcomed 
 with such warmth and enthusiasm, by the "cultivated" and 
 " influential," in all parts ot the Kingdom. 
 
 No American book since "Uncle Tom," is so universally 
 known, read, and talked about. 
 
 The London journals, without exception, have given it a cor 
 dial welcome. Read what they say of it : 
 
 " We wish to write our most appreciative word of this admirahle and unexcep 
 tional book. We feel while we read it that a new master of fiction has arisen. . 
 . . We can well aiford to wait a few years now, if at the end we are to receive 
 from the same pen a work of such a character and mark as " The Gayworthys." 
 
 Eclectic Journal. 
 
 " It is impossible not to welcome so genial a gift. Nothing so complete and del 
 icately beautiful has come to England from America since Hawthorne's death, and 
 there id more of America in ' The Gayworthys ' than in ' The Scarlet Letter,' or 
 ' The House with Seven Gables.' . . . We know not where so much tender 
 feeling and wholesome thought are to be found together as in this history of the 
 fortunes of the Gayworthys." Header. 
 
 " ' The Gayworthys ' comes to us" very seasonably, for it belongs to a class of 
 novels wanted more and more every day, yet daily growing scarcer. We have, 
 therefore, a warmer welcome for the book before us as being a particularly favora 
 ble specimen of its class. Without the exciting strength of wine, it offers to 
 feverish lips all the grateful coolness of the unfermented grape." 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 " We have no misgivings in promising our readers a rich treat in ' The Gay 
 worthys.' . . . 'The Gayworthys' will become a great favorite." 
 
 Nonconformist. 
 
 "... The book is crowded with epigrams as incisive as this r yet incisive 
 without malice or bitterness, cutting not so much from the sharpness of the 
 thought as from its weight. There is deep kindliness in the following passage, as 
 
 well as deep insight The tone of the story, the curious sense of peace 
 
 and kindliness which it produces, comes out well in that extract, and the reader 
 quits it, feeling as he would have felt had he been gazing half an hour on that 
 scene witli more confidence alike in nature and humanity, less care for the noisy 
 rush of city life, and yet withal less fearf of it. Spectator. 
 
 " It is a pleasant book and will make for the produper friends." 
 
 v Saturday Review. 
 
 " We venture to say no one who begins the book will leave it unfinished, or will 
 deny that great additions have been made to his circle of acquaintance. He has 
 been introduced to a New England village, and made acquainted with most of the 
 leading villagers in a way which leaves the impression on him thenceforward that 
 he knows them personally, that their fortunes and failures, and achievements, and 
 misunderstandings are matters of interest to him, that he would like to know how 
 Gershom Vose got on with his farm, and if Joanna Gair's marriage turned out 
 happily, and if ' Say * Gair was as interesting as a farmer's wife as she has beea 
 as a little child." 
 
TWICE LOST. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 By S. M., Author of "LINNET'S TRIAL." 
 
 READ THE OPINIONS OF THE ENGLISH PRESS* 
 
 " Another first-rate novel by a woman I The plot well conceived and worked 
 out, the characters individualized and clear-cut, and the story so admirably told 
 that you are hurried along for two hours and a half with a smile often breaking 
 out at the humor, a tear ready to start at the pathos, and with unflagging interest, 
 till the heroine's release from all trouble is announced at the end. . . . We 
 heartily recommend the book to all readers. It is more full of character than any 
 book we remember since Charles Reade's ' Christie Johnstone.' "Reader. 
 
 personages have all of them a 
 certain look of reality, and there is a notion of likeness which insures the reader's 
 interest. We can recommend ' Twice Lost ' as a novel worth reading." Athenceum. 
 
 "By far the cleverest book on our list is 'Twice Lost.' . . . This is bold and 
 skilful drawing, and it' is a fair sample of the earlier half of the volume. The 
 combined vigor, ease, and perspicuity of the writing is unusual." Guardian. 
 
 " Nothing can be better of its ind than the first portion of Twice Lost.' . . . 
 The caustic humor and strong common sense which mark the sketches of charac 
 ter in this book, betray a keenness of observation and aptitude for producing a 
 telling likeness with a few strokes, which need only a wider cultivation to secure a 
 more complete success than has been attained in 'Twice Lost.' " 
 
 Westminster Review. 
 
 " It is quite clear that the author has given a good deal of thought to the con 
 struction of the storv, with a view to producing strong interest without the use of 
 the common sensational expedients. To say that 'Twice Lost' is very well 
 written, and very interesting, would not be doing it justice. Morning Herald. 
 
 " There can be no doubt of the autho'r's power. She holds her characters and 
 incidents well in hand, writes firmly, and often very happily, and there are many 
 passages which indicate power much above mediocrity." London Review. 
 
 " Not very often do we meet with a novel so thoroughly good as ' Twice Lost.' 
 If, as may be assumed from both subject and style, its author is a woman, she may 
 at once be classed with the Bronte sisters and George Eliot. She has the firm 
 conception and distinct touch of the first-class artist. Her characters are real and 
 individual. Press. 
 
 " This is a well-written romantic tale, in which we find many pleasing incidents 
 and some successful portraiture of character. The character of Miss Derwent, the 
 companion and governess of the heroine, Miss Langley, is very well developed in 
 the course of the narrative. The moral tone of the book is very good, and so far 
 as religious matters are touched upon, they are treated with propriety and rever 
 ence." English Churchman. 
 
 " The characters are well drawn the situations are new, the sentiments are 
 unsentimental, and the incidental remarks those of a clever woman who is rea 
 sonable and tolerant." Globe. 
 
 "The plot of this tale is an original one, and well worked out. ... We can 
 sincerely recommend this tale; it is quite out of the general run of books, and is 
 sure to prove an interesting one." Observer. 
 
 " We notice this story because its authoress will one day, we believe, produce a 
 powerful novel." Spectator. 
 
 " The reader is carried along with unflagging and exciting interest, and the book 
 is full of characters finely sketched, and of passages powerfully wntt n. " ^^ 
 
 "That the author of 'Twice Lost' can write well, the book itself furnishe* 
 sufficient evidence." Nation. 
 
 " This is a striking story. It has a freshness and originality about it which art 
 very pleasant." Morning Advertiser. 
 
 " Without being a sensation novel this is a most exciting and at ^^ ve ^ r /' M 
 
 " A most romantic story, the interest being well sustained throughout, and every 
 Jiing coming right at the end. Any one must Be entertained by it. John BuU.