back at night to break into the office and force the safe; and the
event proved that I was correct in my surmise. I mounted the Nipper on
a pony, and sent him away to find out where the rascal had put up, as
I felt certain that he would not go all the way to Bleakhausen if he
intended to come back at night; and about dusk my messenger returned
with the news that he had marked his game down in a ruinous shanty on
the edge of the forest where an old convict lived, who sold bad rum
and worse tobacco to Indians, negro squatters, and all the scamps in
the neighbourhood. The inhabitants of Radnor are of many and various
creeds and denominations, and they are none of those who tarry long
at their wretched potations, but all get soon elevated and go soon to
bed; by eleven o'clock everything is usually all quiet for the night.
Thus I calculated that if I was to see my nautical friend again, it
would be somewhere about twelve o'clock or one in the morning; and I
took my measures accordingly. I told two of my best gangers to come to
my house at eleven o'clock, but to say nothing to any person about it,
as what I wanted done must be kept quiet. When they came, I explained
my suspicions about Captain Duckett. One of them was a Yorkshire navvy
of the good old stamp, so rare nowadays. Dick was his name. He might
have been in a much better position had he been steady; but poor Dick
must have a spree every pay-day, and by the following Tuesday was
always reduced to poverty; however, he was a decent civil fellow and a
capital hand, for all that. The other was an Irishman, Mike Grady; a
smart fellow too, but always in trouble for fighting with his men; but
for the business I had in hand that was no great disqualification. I
provided each with a stout, long ash hammer-shank and a piece of soft
Manilla white line, after which we went quietly down and ensconced
ourselves among some bushes opposite the office-door, on the other side
of the street. The programme was, that when the captain appeared, Mike
was to steal across as soon as he commenced operations and fell him by
a blow with his ash-stick; when we were to tie him hand and foot and
deliver him to the sheriff in the morning--this being our only chance
of getting him; for to apply to a magistrate would only have caused a
talk, and would likely have scared the ruffian from making the attempt;
and besides that, I wanted to catch him in the very act of burglary,
which would insure a severe punishment.
We had not been very long at our post, when the sound of wheels was
heard at a distance as if coming slowly and cautiously; by-and-by the
noise ceased, leading us to imagine that he had tied up his horse about
two hundred yards from where we were. I peeped carefully out; and as
the night was not very dark, I could see a figure stealing noiselessly
along; and sure enough it was Duckett himself. He had managed to change
his Panama hat for a dog-skin sailor's cap, and his blue surtout for
an old reefing-jacket; he had moccasins on over his boots, to deaden
the sound of his footsteps, and I could see his belt, with his revolver
and a knife sticking in it. He was evidently prepared for mischief,
being armed with a hammer in one hand and the crow-bar in the other.
Stopping at the door he laid down his hammer, and struck a match and
lighted a small lamp he took from his pocket; and he had just inserted
the claw-end of the crow below one of the half-leaves of the door, to
prise it from the hinges, when the too impetuous Irishman, Mike, gave a
howl and ran across to him. The Yankee bolted like a rocket, flung his
bar from him as if it were red-hot, and made off at a pace that defied
capture. We got round the corner just in time to see him jump into his
wagon and commence flogging his mare with the buckle-end of the reins
like a madman, standing up and yelling to her at the same time; he
went off at a rattling gallop, and all the satisfaction I had was to
send a bullet after him to freshen his way. He got home that morning;
and he and all his gang were away from Bleakhausen before daylight,
having evidently had all ready for a sudden start, although compelled
to effect it minus the captain's expected plunder. I got out a warrant
for his apprehension; but it was useless, as we soon heard that Captain
M. C. Duckett and his crew had been wrecked in an American schooner,
and forwarded to Port Royal Harbour, in South Carolina. I never heard
of him again, unless he was the same person whose name appeared in
a New York paper in connection with a gambling riot and murder on
board a Mississippi steamboat of which Captain Marcus Cyrus Duckett
was commander, and it is extremely improbable that there could be two
desperadoes of that name.
The last time I saw my valuable estate it looked dismal enough; the
shanties were burned, and the mill had fallen to pieces; and I had
almost forgotten the whole affair, till I received an intimation a
short time ago from a collector of taxes, that unless many years'
arrears of taxes and mining license were immediately paid, he would
have the place sold to pay them and his expenses; all of which he is
very welcome to try to do, though I pity the purchaser. I could say
much on the subject. But all I need observe is, that my adventure,
which I have related exactly as it took place, offers a fair specimen
of the trickeries that are of constant occurrence connected with
speculative mining operations in various parts of America.
CRUISING ON THE 'BROADS.'
One of the greatest charms in Nature is her infinite variety, as may be
seen even without travelling beyond the limits of our island; almost
every county has its own peculiar expression, differing like the
differing expressions of the human face, and presenting, between the
lofty grandeur of the Scotch mountains and the undulating luxuriance of
Southern England, many gradations of form and colour.
In the eastern extremity of Norfolk there is a part almost entirely
composed of lake, river, and marsh, known as the 'Broad District;'
_Broad_ being the local term for lake. The largest of those, Breydon
Water, lies within the narrow neck of land on which Yarmouth is
built; and towards this lake three rivers radiate from different
directions--the Bure, the Waveney, and the Yare flowing from the
ancient city of Norwich. The author of _The Swan and her Crew_[B] tells
us that 'the banks of the rivers are fringed with tall reeds, and they
flow through miles of level marsh, where, as far as the eye can reach,
there is nothing to be seen but the white sails of the yachts and the
dark sails of the wherries, and occasional windmills, which are used
for pumping the water out of the drains into the river.' Every here and
there the rivers widen into broads, which are sometimes very large, and
swarm with pike, perch, and numerous other fish. Those lakes are all
very shallow, and can only be navigated by boats drawing little water;
'they are surrounded by a dense aquatic vegetation, reeds, rushes,
flags, and bulrushes; and these are the haunts of many rare birds, and
swarm with wild-fowl.'
With a view to navigating these shallow broads in an original way to
facilitate the study of natural history, to hunt for the eggs of rare
birds, to fish and shoot and otherwise investigate the wonders of the
watery region, a boy of sixteen, named Frank Merivale, stands on the
edge of Hickling Broad, deeply engaged in thought. At last a grand idea
strikes him: he rushes up to the house, gets his father's permission to
cut down a tree; and then laden with axes and ropes, he goes to get the
help of his friend Jimmy Brett, who lives in an old-fashioned cottage
near. The two boys proceed to the tree; and after long exertion,
have the satisfaction of seeing the tall young larch fall over with
a crash. Which business over, Jimmy insists on having his curiosity
gratified by hearing what is to be done with the young larch; whereupon
Frank unfolds his great project of building a yacht, a real yacht of
their own, with which they might sail all over the broads and on the
rivers, and naturalise and bird-nest, and enjoy no end of fun. The less
sanguine Jimmy shakes his wise head; but Frank goes on with enthusiasm:
'What I propose is that we build a double yacht. We will make two long
pontoons, and connect them by cross-pieces, on which we can lay a deck.
Such a boat would not draw more than a foot of water; and to make her
sail to windward, we should have a drop-keel or centre-board, which we
could let down or draw up according to the depth of the water. Then I
think a lug-sail and mizzen would suit her best; and we shall build her
in old Bell's yard, and he will lend us such tools as we have not got.'
After a long discussion as to the plan and estimates of cost, the two
would-be boat-builders, with a view to enlisting his aid, go on to see
old Bell, who was a bit of a curiosity, uniting the two dissimilar
trades of tailor and boat-builder. He was a close observer of the
habits of animals, and could often give odd and useful information;
and was a great favourite with the boys, as indeed they were with
him. To this worthy they make known their grand scheme; and while not
particularly sanguine of success, the old man promised to help as much
as possible; and Frank in his impetuous way, at once begins clearing a
space for the keel.
All the spare time is now spent in building the yacht; the two being
joined by Dick Carlton, who being rather delicate, was encouraged
by his father Sir Richard to join in the pastimes of his two young
friends. First of all the pontoons are made, these being merely two
long wooden boxes tapering off to a fine point at each end. Laid on the
ground side by side, with a space of fully three feet between their
centres, they are joined together by strong pieces of wood; while the
seams are caulked with tow and a mixture of red and white lead, and
protected by slips of wood nailed along them. The deck is next laid,
and 'neatly finished off round the edges, with a bulwark of rope
stretched on iron uprights.' A tiny cabin is erected, in which even
the smallest of the crew will be unable to stand erect; but yachtsmen
have to put up with many discomforts, and indeed a great deal of the
pleasure consists in what is termed 'roughing it,' so _three feet six
inches_ is considered sufficiently lofty for the grand saloon. Two low
broad seats are fitted up inside, which are also intended to serve as
beds, should occasion require. A rudder and helm are attached to each
pontoon, and connected by a cross-piece of wood, so that both might
be worked at once; while two drop-keels occupy the space between the
pontoons, and can be raised or lowered with the greatest ease. The mast
also could be lowered whenever it might be necessary, in order to allow
the boat to pass under low bridges.
To those who are interested in the details of such a craft as the
_Swan_, the book furnishes ample information (full dimensions and
all particulars being given). Suffice it to say, that after much
perseverance and many grave difficulties, our amateur boat-builders,
thanks to Frank's energy and skill, at length complete their work.
The yacht is painted white; a tender in the shape of a punt is also
built; and on a bright May morning all is ready for the launch, which
important ceremony is fixed to take place at six o'clock on a Saturday
morning. The three friends meet in Bell's yard, eager to send their
handiwork upon the smooth glancing waters of the broad. But a name is
yet wanting. 'Call her the _Swan_,' says Dick, remembering Wordsworth's
lines; 'because, like the swan "on still Saint Mary's Lake," she will
"float double."'
The name is hailed with approval. The ceremony is most successful; and
soon the craft floats out on the waves, and the three boys enjoy the
rare pleasure of sailing in a boat of their very own making. A light
wind springs up, which shortly increases to a pretty stiff breeze, and
the _Swan_ behaves to perfection, answering her helm so admirably that
the three young sailors are as pleased and proud as possible at the
result of their labours.
And now when fairly afloat, we find that the crew have a double object
in view; first, a topographical investigation of the Broad-region; and
second, the noting of whatever objects of interest in natural history
the broads might hold. During a tack the yacht passed over a bed of
rushes, displacing a nest of the crested grebe, from which a number
of the eggs rolled off into the water. It looked just like a lump of
rotting sea-weed; and to avoid detection, we are told that the bird
covers its eggs with reeds, so that they are scarcely noticeable: thus
strangely does instinct guide to safety. On nearing home, a heron is
disturbed, which rises slowly, flapping his wings in the apparently
lazy manner peculiar to that bird; but on counting, our young friends
found that he flapped his wings no fewer than one hundred and twenty
times in a minute!
The success of the first sail only causes a desire for more adventure
and a longer cruise, perhaps for three weeks, so that the boys might
fully test the capacities of the _Swan_, and explore all the rivers
and broads of Norfolk. The consent of the respective fathers is easily
obtained; but the mothers, with their usual fear of danger, are more
difficult to persuade. Frank, however, arranged that _they_ should
all have a day's sailing, to see how safe it was; and choosing a fine
bright day with a light breeze, the _Swan_ floated so gaily, that
neither Mrs Merivale nor Mrs Brett could find it in their hearts to
oppose the scheme.
Accordingly by the end of May, a hammock is slung between the two
low seats, to serve as a third bed; a gun, butterfly net, fishing
materials, and plenty of provisions, are on board; and arranging to
meet the seniors at Wroxham Bridge, the crew of the _Swan_ set sail. In
the middle of Heigham Sounds, there is a great bed of reeds, locally
called a 'Rond,' into which the boat is run. All hands being on the
watch, a whole flock of birds rises from the reeds--water-hens, coots,
&c.; and then a little duck with a bright, chestnut-coloured head and
breast. A teal; and the young naturalists, bent on finding its nest,
spend a long time fruitlessly, but at length discover it in the very
centre of the rond. Large and beautifully lined with feathers, it is
found to hold twelve cream-coloured eggs, three of which our friends
appropriate, and then proceed to shove off the ship. But alas! the
_Swan_ is firmly imbedded in the mud, and refuses to be moved. There
was no help for it but to strip, and raising the craft, by using the
oars as levers, endeavour to push her off into deep water; but it is
hard work, and the three shew as black (with ooze) as negroes ere it
is accomplished. At last she is afloat. Without waiting to dress, up
go the sails, and being a quiet spot where they are not likely to meet
in with vessels, they mean to bathe and dress at leisure. Suddenly,
however, a sail appears--a yacht with a number of people on board!
And here we are told that its occupants enjoyed a good laugh at the
strange appearance of the _Swan_ and her naked though mud-covered crew!
Jimmy and Dick take refuge in the cabin; but poor Frank who (still
garmentless) is steering, dares not leave his post; so without further
ado, he springs into the water at the stern of the yacht, and holding
on by the rudder, contrives to keep her on her course till Jimmy
reappears with something thrown over him and takes hold of the tiller.
Need it be said that the three lost no further time in restoring
themselves to the white man's usual appearance!
Heigham Bridge is reached; and while the other two are engaged in
lowering the mast, Dick pursues some orange-tip butterflies which are
among the prettiest of the Lepidoptera, and look like a bunch of red
and white rose petals flying through the air. Resuming their progress
up the Bure, till St Benedict's Abbey is reached, where it was resolved
to camp for the night, the _Swan_ is run into a creek and made fast.
Night comes on, the wind howling drearily; and nothing to be seen but
stretches of lonely marshes, fading away into the distance behind the
deserted ruins of the abbey, which occupy the foreground. A sense of
loneliness is felt, but not one of our fresh-water tars cares to own
it, and each tries to assume a cheerfulness he is far from feeling.
Suddenly an unearthly cry sounds from the ruins, and a white form is
dimly seen to glide among its broken arches; visions of ghosts, even
in this materialistic age, rise unbidden; but the phantom after all is
but a harmless white owl. So fright gives place to laughter; the lamp
is lit, and supper is made as cheerful as possible. Sleep, however, is
coy. To our three young friends, nursed in luxurious homes, there is
something rather disturbing in the noise of the waters, the howling of
the wind, and the wild cry of the birds. A loud noise disturbs them,
and rushing on deck, a belated wherry is seen beating up the river,
her canvas making a great noise as they turned on a new tack. The men
sing out 'Good-night' as they pass, which is a comforting, homelike
greeting, and sleep is attempted once more. Anon a patter-patter is
heard on deck; Frank turns out, and sees a stray coot, wandering about
in search of the good things of life. Looking round he spies a strange
wandering light flitting among the marshes; like a Will-o'-the-wisp it
seems here and there, and then appears to vanish for a time. He rouses
Jimmy and Dick, but neither can suggest a solution; so hastily throwing
on some clothes, they take the punt and endeavour to reach the light.
But it always eludes them; and after a fruitless search, they return to
bed and court sleep more successfully than before.
Morning finds them determined to investigate the cause of the light,
and while rowing about the creek for that purpose, a strange bird
arrests their attention. It is standing on a hillock, and is indeed a
most peculiar-looking creature, 'with a body like a thrush, but with
long legs, a long bill, and staring eyes; a brown tuft of feathers on
each side of the head, and a large flesh-coloured ruff of feathers
round its neck.' While they are watching the bird, a man seizes and is
about to kill the ruff (for such it is), when the boys run forward and
entreat him to sell it. The man being a fowler and only wanting money,
is glad enough to make a bargain; and then shews them the nest, made of
coarse grass, and containing four olive-green eggs spotted with brown.
Hastening to the rendezvous at Wroxham Bridge our crew are greeted
with: 'Well, boys, we thought you were lost.' 'No fear, father,'
answers Frank; 'the _Swan_ sails grandly, and we are having no end of
fun;' and then to the anxious mothers' question as to how they have
passed the night, the boys unanimously affirm that they have been most
comfortable. Not one of them would shew even the faintest tip of the
_white-feather_. Sailing about on Wroxham Broad, our young voyagers
and their friends greatly enjoyed its beauty. On one side rich woods
come down to the water's edge; and on the other, marshes stretch
for miles and miles, with waving reeds, white cotton grasses, and
many-coloured marsh grasses, which vary in tint and colour as the wind
waves them or the cloud-shadows pass over them. Taking the punt, they
explore a perfect labyrinth of dykes and pools, pushing their way among
water-lilies and arrow-heads, and gathering many flowers of every hue;
and after such a pleasant day, even the ladies are satisfied with the
safety of the lads.
The following day our young friends see an unknown broad lying to
leeward, and steer the _Swan_ up the narrow channel leading to it.
On goes the boat, regardless of a notice conspicuously placed at the
entrance, stating that this broad belongs to Mr ----, and with the
usual finale, that 'All trespassers will be prosecuted.' All that
is known of this Mr ---- is that he has a big blue yacht. It were
difficult if not impossible to turn; and as they _were_ in, they might
as well take a look before leaving. Stolen waters are sweet, so this
broad seems fairer than the others, and our young naturalists have a
good time of it in exploring its many treasures. Hours pass; Mr ----
and his prohibition are entirely forgotten, until first the sails of
a yacht are seen gliding up the entrance, and then the hull; when
behold, it is the _big blue yacht_!
A chase ensues, which ends in the capture of the _Swan_; the curious
build of which seems to have very much puzzled the formidable
Mr ----, who on hearing that the craft is of the boys' own building, is
mollified at once, compliments them on their skill, and hearing of
their love of natural history, he presents them with some eggs of the
pin-tail duck, which rare bird had made its nest in one of the ronds.
Returning to open waters, and skimming along the margin of the land, a
magnificent butterfly is seen sailing along. 'It was very large, four
inches across the wings, which are of a pale creamy colour, barred
and margined with blue and black, velvety in appearance, and with a
well-defined tail to each of its under-wings, above which is a red
spot. This peculiarity of tail gives it the name of the swallow-tail
butterfly; and it is one of the most beautiful as well as rarest
species.' The yacht is run ashore; but Dick on making too bold a dash
with his net, misses the insect. Frank seizes the net, and gives
chase to another which had come sailing along. He follows it for a
considerable distance, and then disappears, crying loudly for help.
Poor fellow! he had fallen into a bog-hole, and was being rapidly
sucked down into the mud; but preserving calmness, he tells Dick to
bring a rope, while Jimmy flings him his coat; alas! it does not reach
him; and Frank is sinking to the shoulders, when Jimmy, in desperation,
doffs his unmentionables, and Frank holds on by the one leg, while he
manages to keep a grasp of the other, and so supports his friend till,
to their great relief, Dick appears with the rope. But so tightly is
Frank stuck in the mud, that it takes a mighty effort on the part of
the others to haul him out. This must have been a sad damper, for we
find our adventurous trio making their way back to the _Swan_ silently
and thoughtfully--to young bright spirits it being dreadful to be thus
brought so near to danger and death. Frank, however, had managed to
secure the butterfly for his collection, and kept it safe in spite of
his perilous position; and it was preserved specially as a memento of
his narrow escape.
As a relief from the monotony of sailing, our young friends propose a
game of 'Follow my Leader.' On leaping a hedge, Frank's foot caught
the top, and over he fell, right down on a quail's nest, smashing some
of the eggs, and wounding the mother, a poor trembling bird, 'about
eight inches long, rather plump, of a gray colour, and shaped much
like a guinea-fowl.' A fight between a hawk and a weasel next attracts
attention; after a prolonged struggle, the hawk falls a victim; and the
boys, on gaining the spot, carry off both animals, as an interesting
addition to their museum.
The wind having risen, the _Swan_ sails in grand style to Yarmouth,
where she is made fast outside a row of wherries moored to the quay,
while her crew go on shore to inspect the quaint Dutch-looking town,
which has been so often compared to a gridiron. Our young voyagers had
determined on the morrow to sail up Breydon Water; and off they set,
notwithstanding that the gale had increased in severity and the lake
was covered with crested foam. Not a sail is to be seen on the stormy
water; yet the _Swan_ bravely accomplished the dangerous passage, and
with the exception of 'shipping' seas and other unavoidable mishaps,
they reached the smoother waters of the Waveney in safety. Skimming
along for some miles, they anchor near Beccles, where a finely wooded
bank holds out enticement for naturalising. There a hawk's nest is
found, and two of the young ones are captured, our young friends
intending to take them home and train them for the old English sport of
falconry.
The days and weeks fly quickly, and bring new enjoyments and treasures;
but we have not space even to mention a tithe of the spoils.
It will be interesting, however, to add that when winter bound the
broads with ice, our young friends hit upon the plan of fastening
skates to the _Swan_, and so propelling her from place to place.
Raised on runners like large iron skates, and with ordinary skates
on each rudder for steering power, away sped the _Swan_ over the ice
after the manner of ice-ships in Canada; until the return of milder
weather restored her to the waves--bringing to her owners new stores of
information with each cruise.
Although it is not given to every boy to be one of such a merry crew
as that of the _Swan_, or to have opportunity for adventures such
as those so graphically pictured in this volume, still there are
many who, possessing certain opportunities, pass through the world
with their eyes metaphorically shut. Irrespective, therefore, of the
practical hints for the employment of leisure time, here presented to
those who are qualified to profit by them, the moral lesson taught is,
that even in spots looked upon by the great generality of people as
'uninteresting,' Nature is lavish of her charms for those who will take
the trouble to woo them.
FOOTNOTES:
[B] By Christopher Davies. London: Warne & Co.
THE ROCKY BOULDERS OF CORNWALL.
Piled on the lofty peaks of rugged Tors,
Strewn down the smooth hill-slope and river-side,
Scattered upon the lone and dreary moors,
These ponderous mammoth forms for aye abide.
Their cold gray hue at dawn's first livid beam
Is bathed in golden light as hours roll on,
And all bedecked they glow with purple gleam
When sunset warns us that the day is done.
As twilight fades, their outlines seem to change,
And some appear to float on misty sea;
Fantastic monsters take new forms, more strange,
And scare belated wanderers on the lea.
Just after nightfall, black and dim they rise,
From shadowy depths of gloom and mystery,[1]
Looming like spectral gnomes of giant size,[2]
Shapeless and vague against the boding sky.
On yonder height a nodding mass appears,[3]
Crowning the rocky battlement so vast;
Many a rude monolith itself uprears,[4]
Bidding defiance to the angry blast.
Wild legends hang about these time-worn stones;
Some of them move--at dead of night--they say;[5]
Others do sigh and utter troubled moans,
As evil spirits near them wend their way.