Departure from Wendon.--Embarkation in the _Amoor_.--Ruth's
Adventures in London.--The Deverell Family.--The Pleasures of the
Voyage.--Tropical Wonders.--The Flying-fish.--The Stormy Petrel.--The
Albatross.--Deverell's Plans.--The Indian Ocean.--A Storm.
Finally the successor of Mr. Mayburn arrived, was initiated in his
office, introduced to his new parishioners, and had promised to supply,
as well as he was able, the loss which the mourning poor must sustain in
the departure of the charitable family. Mr. Mayburn's old friend, the
Bishop of ----, himself accompanied the family to London, directed them
in the mode of fitting out for the voyage, and for their new residence,
and supplied them with letters of instruction as well as of introduction
before he left them. Some weeks of delay followed, and several
disappointments; but at length they were induced to embark, with nurse
Wilson, Ruth, and Jack, on board the _Amoor_, a good sailing vessel
bound to Melbourne, with many passengers; and from thence to Calcutta,
with cattle and merchandise; Captain Barton, who commanded the ship,
being an old acquaintance of Mr. Mayburn. Established in a large and
commodious cabin, Margaret begged that nurse would keep Ruth always with
them, for the girl was distracted with the strange objects around her.
"Sit ye down, lass, and hem that apron," said Jenny, in a tone of
authority. "Truly, Miss Margaret, I wouldn't go through the last week
again to be Queen Victoria herself, God bless her; and all owing to that
unlucky lass. Jack is a decent lad, and it's unknown what a help he was
about getting the things here safe; but all the folks in London seemed
of one mind that _she_ was fitter for a 'sylum than for a creditable
gentleman's family. It's no good blubbering about it now, girl; just see
and mind what you are about, for there's no police here to look after
you."
"Did the police really get hold of her, nurse?" asked Gerald. "What
fun!"
"I never took her out for a walk, Master O'Brien," answered Jenny, "but
they had their eye on her; they marked her at once as one that needed
watching--a simpleton! Why, it was no later than yesterday morning when
she worked on me, fool-body as I was, to go with her to see St. Paul's;
and what did she do then but start from my arm and run right across a
street thronged with cabs, and wagons, and omnibuses. I just shut my
eyes and screamed, for I never thought to see her again living; and
there was such a hallooing among coachmen and cabmen, and such screaming
of women, as was never heard. How they got all them horses to stop is
just a miracle; but when I looked again, there was a lot of police
holding horses' heads, and one man was hauling Ruth right across; and he
had his trouble, for when she heard all that hullabaloo, she was for
turning back to me through the thick of it. Oh! Miss Marget, wasn't I
shamed out of my life when they fetched her back to me at last, and one
fine fellow said I had better lead my daughter in a string."
Ruth giggled hysterically at the recital of her adventure, and when
Margaret said to her gravely,--"You behaved very improperly, Ruth, why
did you leave your kind friend, Mrs. Wilson?"
"Please Miss Marget," sobbed the girl; "it was a window full of bonnie
babbies."
"She's just a babby herself, Miss Marget," said Jenny, wrathfully. "It
was a fine toyshop she saw, and she had no more sense but run among
carriages to it. She's hardly safe shut up here; see if she doesn't
tumble into the sea some of these days."
But when Ruth's curiosity and astonishment had somewhat subsided, the
quiet and firm government of Margaret, and the watchful care of Jack,
had great power over her; though still the wild boys Hugh and Gerald
sometimes tempted her to pry into forbidden places, or to join them in
some mischievous frolic.
The greater part of the accommodation of the _Amoor_ was given up to a
gentleman of good birth and property, who was emigrating to Australia.
He had obtained a grant of an immense tract of land in the very midst of
the country, further north than the steps of the colonists had yet
reached. To this remote district he was taking his mother, his young
sister, and a younger brother who had studied medicine; and besides
these, a number of male and female servants, carpenters, smiths,
builders, drainers, shepherds, and various workmen likely to be useful
in a new colony. These men were accompanied by their wives and children,
forming a considerable clan, all depending on their worthy and energetic
chieftain. The vast amount of goods brought out by all these emigrants,
much that was useless, as must ever be the case, among the useful, had
heavily laden the vessel.
The Mayburns and Deverells were drawn together as much by kindred taste
as by inevitable circumstances, and they soon became as true friends as
if they had been intimately acquainted for years. Edward Deverell, with
promptness and practical knowledge, managed the affairs and smoothed the
difficulties of the Mayburns; while Mr. Mayburn instructed the ignorant,
and, at the desire of the captain, a right-minded man, daily read the
morning and evening services publicly--a most beneficial practice,
producing order and decorum, and implanting in the minds of the young
the seeds of future blessing.
"How truly I should rejoice, dear Margaret," said Deverell, "if we could
induce your excellent father to join our expedition. I would then
undertake to build a church; and might hope for a blessing on my new
colony, if the foundation were so happily laid. The climate is declared
to be exceedingly salubrious, much more likely to suit you all than the
unhealthy air of India. It would be an inestimable advantage to my dear
sister Emma; she has never known the care and tenderness of a sister;
she needs a more cheerful companion than her good mother, who has
delicate health; and you, Margaret Mayburn, are the model I should wish
her to imitate."
"I need a sister quite as much," answered Margaret, "to soften my rough
points, and your gentle, gay little Emma charms and interests me; but,
alas! papa has accepted a duty which he must not relinquish without a
trial to fulfil it. I regret that it should be in such a locality for
the sake of my brothers."
"You are right, my dear friend," replied he; "observe how happily they
are now engaged. Arthur has looked over the dried plants, and he is now
dissecting rabbits with my brother. Hugh and your ingenious Jack
are at work with my carpenters, making models of broad-wheeled
travelling-wagons and canoes for the rivers. Even the mischievous urchin
O'Brien is out of danger when he is engaged with my grooms and herdsmen,
in attendance on my valuable horses and cattle. What can these ardent
boys find to interest and amuse them in the arid and enfeebling plains
of India?"
Margaret knew that if her father heard these arguments, they would
certainly agitate him, and might even shake his determination to proceed
in the undertaking, which she and Arthur were of opinion he was bound to
complete. She therefore begged Deverell to use no further persuasions;
but she promised him, that if the Indian mission was beyond the physical
or mental strength of her father, she would try to induce him to return
to Melbourne, and from thence they would endeavor to make their way to
the station of Mr. Deverell, who had promised to leave directions for
their progress with his banker at Melbourne, which he proposed to make
his mart for business.
It was truly the fact, that in pleasant employment no one found the long
voyage tedious. Jack was especially charmed with his increase of
knowledge. "You see, sir," said he to Arthur, "I was qualified to make a
four-post bedstead, or a chest of drawers, as well as the best of these
chaps; but they tell me them sort of things isn't much needed in them
forrin parts. But what they've brought along with them is quite another
thing: frames for wooden houses, ready to nail up in no time; mills and
threshing machines; great, broad-felloed wagons for their rough roads,
and boats of all makes. Just look, Mr. Arthur, I've made bits of models
of all them things, you see. We can't say but they may turn up useful
some day."
Even Ruth the unlucky lost her cognomen, and became popular among the
emigrant women; for when kept quietly at regular employment, she could
be steady and useful; it was only when she was hurried, or thrown upon
her own responsibility, that she lost her head, and blundered into
mischief. She nursed the babes tenderly and carefully, helped the poor
women to wash their clothes, and for the first time in her life began to
believe she might be of some use in the world. Gerald, who always
insisted on it that Ruth was not half so bad as she was represented,
assured Jenny that all the girl's errors arose from improper management.
"You do not appreciate her talents justly, nurse," said he. "She is
quite a genius, and ought to have been Irish, only she was born in
England. You have wronged poor Ruth; you see she has never drowned a
_babby_ yet."
"Well, Master O'Brien, wait a bit, we're not through our voyage yet,"
said Jenny, oracularly.
"The Ides of March are not gone, she would say," said Hugh.
"I didn't mean to say no such thing, Master Hugh," replied she; "you're
so sharp with one. I'm not so daft, but I know March is gone, and
May-day ought to be at hand; not that we can see any signs of it,
neither leaves nor flowers here, and I cannot see days get any longer.
How is it, Master Arthur? Is it because we're atop of the water?"
Arthur endeavored to make Jenny comprehend the natural consequences of
their position, now within the tropics, and daily drawing nearer to the
equator; but he only succeeded in agitating the mind of the old woman,
without enlightening her.
"God help us!" she exclaimed. "Nigher and nigher to the sun! It's
downright temptation and wickedness, my dears; and my thought is, one
ought to stay where it has pleased Him to plant us. And think ye, Master
Arthur, we shall all turn black, like them niggers we saw in London
streets."
"No; certainly not, nurse," answered Arthur. "It requires hundreds of
years, under a tropical sun, to change the color of Europeans. Besides,
the negroes, although we are all children of Adam, are of a distinct
race from us. We are certainly not, like the thick-lipped negroes, the
descendants of Ham."
"Likely he had been the plainest of Noah's family," said Jenny, "for
beauty runs in the blood, that I'll stand to," continued the attached
nurse, looking round with complacency on her handsome young nurslings.
To the young voyagers there was an indescribable charm in the novelties
which the sea and the air offered to them in the tropical region they
had now entered. Now for the first time they beheld the flying-fish rise
sparkling from the waves, to descend as quickly; escaping for a short
time from its enemies in the waves to expose itself to the voracious
tribes of the air, who are ready to dart upon it. And sometimes the
elegant little Stormy Petrel, with its slender long legs, seemed to walk
the waters, like the fervent St. Peter, from whom it derives its name.
"But is not this bird believed to be the harbinger of storms?" asked
Margaret of her father, as he watched with delight the graceful
creature he had so often desired to behold.
"Such is the belief of the sailors," answered he, "who have added the
ill-omened epithet to its name. It is true that the approach, or the
presence, of a gale, has no terror to this intrepid bird, the smallest
of the web-footed tribe. It ascends the mountainous wave, and skims
along the deep hollows, treading the water, supported by its expanded
wings, in search of the food which the troubled sea casts on the
surface:
'Up and down! up and down!
From the base of the wave to the billow's crown,
Amidst the flashing and feathery foam,
The Stormy Petrel finds a home,'
as a poet who is a true lover of nature has written. Yet it is not
always the harbinger or the companion of the storm, for even in the
calmest weather it follows a vessel, to feed on the offal thrown
overboard, as fearless and familiar in the presence of man as the pert
sparrow of London."
"Here, papa!" cried Hugh, "here is a new creature to add to your
collection. I know him at once,--the huge Albatross."
With the admiration of a naturalist, Mr. Mayburn looked on the gigantic
bird, continuing its solemn majestic flight untiringly for hours after
the ship, its keen eye ever on the watch for any floating substance
which was thrown from the vessel, and then swooping heavily down to
snatch the prize voraciously, and circling round the ship, again to
resume its place at the wake.
"I see now," said he, "why Coleridge wrote,--
'The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play.
Came to the mariner's hollo!'
But the poet mistook the habits of the bird entirely when he added, that
'on mast or shroud it perched.' The difficulty of expanding its wing of
five joints, so immensely long, would impede its rising from the mast of
a ship; it scrambles along the waves before it can rise above them; and
it has been well said, 'The albatross is the mere creature of the wind,
and has no more power over itself than a paper kite or an air balloon.
It is all wing, and has no muscle to raise itself with, and must wait
for a wind before it can get under sail.'"
The family were assembled on deck in the close of the evening, after the
fervid heat of an equatorial sun, and they beheld with enjoyment the
wonders of the deep; but the old nurse seemed disturbed and awe-struck.
"Every thing seems turned topsy-turvy here," said she. "Days far hotter
nor ever I mind them, and May-day not come; fishes with wings, flying as
if they were birds, and birds walking atop of the water, as if it were
dry land. It's unnatural, Miss Marget, and no good can come on it, I
say."
"Ah! if you were but going with us, Mrs. Wilson," said Charles Deverell;
"then I would engage you should see wonders. You should see beasts
hopping about like birds, and wearing pockets to carry their young ones
in; black swans and white eagles; cuckoos that cry in the night, and
owls that scream by day; pretty little birds that cannot sing, and bees
that never sting. There the trees shed their bark instead of their
leaves, and the cherries grow with the stone outside."
"Now, just hold your tongue, Mr. Charles," answered nurse, angrily.
"Your brother would scorn to talk such talk; but you're no better than
Master Gerald, trying to come over an old body with your fairy stories."
"It is quite true, Mrs. Wilson," said Emma Deverell, "and I wish you
were all going with us into this land of enchantments. Then, Margaret,
dear Margaret, how happy we should be. You should be queen, and we all
your attendant sylphs, and
'Merry it would be in fairy-land,
Where the fairy birds were singing.'"
"Merry for you, little wild goose," said her brother Edward; "but
Charles has told you the fairy birds do not sing; and our sylph-life
will be one of hard labor for many months before we make our fairy-land
and court lit to receive our queen. Then we must try and lure her to us.
How shall we contrive it, Emma?"
Margaret smiled and shook her head. "Too bright a dream," said she, "to
be safely indulged in. But you must tell us all you propose to do, and
we will watch your progress in fancy."
"Oh, do tell us all about it, Edward," said Hugh. "But, first of all,
make a dot upon my map, that we may know where you are when we come to
seek you."
"Very prudent, Hugh," answered Edward, "though I doubt the accuracy of
my dot on this small map; but I suppose I shall not be more than a
hundred miles wrong, and that is nothing in the wilds of Australia."
"But I see you will be close on this great river that falls into the
Darling," said Hugh; "so if we only follow up the rivers, we must find
you."
"You would not find that so easy a task as it seems, my boy," replied
Edward. "Neither are we, as you suppose, close on that river, but fifty
miles from it; but we have a charming little river laid down on our
plan, which we must coax and pet in the rainy season, that it may
provide us with water in the drought."
"You have a most extensive tract," said Arthur, looking on the plan.
"Oh, yes," said Charles, "we propose, you know, to build a castle for
ourselves, and a town for our vassals."
"There lies my castle," said Edward, pointing to some large packages
which contained the frame of his future abode. "As for the town, I am
not without hopes to see it rise some time, and do honor to its name."
"Deverell, I conclude?" observed Arthur.
"So my mother wishes the station to be called," replied he; "but my own
'modest mansion,' I should wish to name Daisy Grange."
"I never understood that the daisy was indigenous in Australia," said
Mr. Mayburn.
"Certainly it is not, sir," answered Edward; "but we have fortunately
brought out a number of roots of this dear home flower, and will try to
domesticate them in our new country; though I fear they will be apt to
forget their native simplicity, and learn to flaunt in colors."
"I know why you wish to call your house Daisy Grange, Edward," said
Emma, nodding sagaciously at Margaret, and the general laughter showed
the little girl had surmised correctly.
"A very pretty and delicate compliment," said Mr. Mayburn: "our own
glorious Chaucer speaks of the daisy as--
'La belle marguerite,
O commendable flower, and most in minde;'
and the noble Margaret of Valois, a Christian and a scholar, had the
daisy, or _marguerite_, worn in honor of her name, and is herself
remembered as the 'Marguerite of Marguerites'."
And thus they amused themselves till, without storm or delay, they had
crossed the equator, and entered the South Sea, when a new source of
enjoyment was opened to Mr. Mayburn, who had long desired to view the
constellations of the south; and favorable weather enabled them to study
astronomy every night. Never for a moment did the voyage seem tedious in
the cheerful society of the happy families, and all things concurred to
render it agreeable. The provisions were excellent, fresh meat and
bread, with milk in abundance, prevented them from suffering from change
of diet; and constant employment made the moments fly. In the morning
the young Mayburns, with Emma Deverell, read with Mr. Mayburn, and
studied Hindostanee; and in the evening they walked on deck, listening
to the pleasant anecdotes told by Edward Deverell, who had been a great
traveller. Then they had music, and occasionally dancing; and if
sometimes a light gale tossed the vessel, or swept the dinner from the
table, the _contretemps_ caused mirth rather than wailing. Mr. Mayburn
himself, busily engaged in teaching, lecturing, or in writing and
delivering simple sermons to the poor emigrants, recovered his
cheerfulness, and once more began to confide in himself.
And so, in good time, they reached the Cape, and Jenny discovered that
now, "when May-day was turned," it was far colder than any May-day in
England, and put on her warm shawl to land with her young charge to see
the town, and to look after that "feckless Ruth." It was a great
pleasure to the ardent young people to set their feet on the shores of
Africa, to see the vessels of many nations crowding the harbor, and the
people of many countries thronging the busy streets, to make excursions
to the mountains and vine-covered hills around, and to collect the
botanical treasures of a new and fertile region. Mr. Deverell was more
usefully engaged with his herdsmen and shepherds, in completing his
stock of cattle and sheep, and in making other purchases for his great
undertaking; and thus many days were spent pleasantly and profitably.
Once more embarked, a shade of melancholy was perceptible--among the
young especially--as they daily approached nearer to the shores where
they must be separated; for the two families, so kindred in taste and
disposition, had become truly attached during their long voyage; and
notwithstanding the pleasant prospect of new scenes and pursuits, they
were less cheerful every day. Even Edward Deverell, with his mind
crowded with plans for clearing, draining, cultivating, sheep-shearing,
and tallow-melting, felt deep regret at the prospect of separation from
the lively, intelligent boys, and their amiable and sensible sister; and
Margaret herself, usually so composed and contented, sighed to think she
must lose the valuable counsel of Edward, the friendly protection of his
mild invalid mother, and the warm affection of the sprightly Emma; and
every evening, as they walked on deck, they indulged hopes, and sketched
plans of meeting again.
After they had entered the Indian Ocean, they had no longer the
favorable and pleasant breezes they had so long enjoyed, and while Hugh
and Gerald were anxiously looking out for pirates, and talking of
Malays, of prahus, and of kreeses, the sailors were watching the signs
of the sky, wrestling with contrary winds, and guarding against sudden
gales.
"How vexatious," said Hugh, "to be drifted about every way but the right
way, and to have all this noise and splashing and dashing, and yet
nothing to come of it. Now if we had a grand regular storm, and a
shipwreck, and were all cast away on an uninhabited island, it would be
an adventure; there would be some life in that."
"More likely there would be death in it," said Margaret. "Do not be so
presumptuous, unthinking boy!"
"I should enjoy the thing amazingly myself, Margaret," said Gerald; "so
don't you look grave about it. Or what would you think, Hugh, if a great
fleet of prahus were to surround us and try to board us, while we, armed
and ready for them, were to pour our shots into them, and put the rogues
to flight. But first we would take care to capture the fierce pirate
captain, and take possession of all his treasures. Then wouldn't we
enter Melbourne in triumph, and have the robber hauled up to the
gallows."
"Pirates do not usually carry their treasures about in their prahus,"
said Arthur; "nor do I think it is at all desirable that we should
encounter a piratical fleet. Where are your guns to pour down
destruction on the foe, Master Gerald?"
"Oh, murther!" cried the wild boy, "wasn't I forgetting the guns! Now,
what for did we come in a merchantman, as quiet and dull as a quaker?
Well, well, Arty, we have plenty of brave fellows, and our own rifles
and pistols, besides knives and dirks. We should defend ourselves like
Britons, I'll be bound."
But the next day there was no cause to complain of dulness, for a real
gale came on, and all was confusion. The wind roared, the waves rose
tremendously, the ship rolled fearfully in a heavy sea, and before night
the maintop-gallant was carried away. Then sail was reduced; but louder
and stronger grew the tempest amid the darkness of night. Mast after
mast was rent away, and the crippled vessel continued to drift
helplessly for twenty-four hours, when the violence of the gale began to
abate. Signals of distress were made, but long in vain. At length a
vessel appeared in sight, and distinguishing their signals, made up to
them. It was bound to Melbourne, which was now within a few days' sail,
and, with as much kindness as difficulty, the stranger succeeded in
taking the disabled _Amoor_ in tow, and bringing her into port in
safety.