THE GALATEA AGROUND.
Little experienced as he was in the art of navigation, the steersman was
not inattentive to his duty. Previously to his taking the rudder, he had
been admonished about the importance of keeping the craft in the channel
of the stream, and to this had he been giving his attention.
It so chanced, however, that he had arrived at a place where there were
two channels,--as if an island was interposed in the middle of the
river, causing it to branch at an acute angle. Which of these was the
right one? Which should be taken? These were the questions that occurred
to Tipperary Tom.
At first he thought of awakening his master, and consulting him, but on
once more glancing at the two channels, he became half convinced that
the broader one must be the proper route to be followed.
"Bay Japers!" muttered he to himself. "Shure I can't be mistaken. The
biggest av the two ought to be the mane sthrame. Anyway, I won't wake
the masther. I'll lave it to the ship to choose for hersilf." Saying
this he relaxed his hold upon the steering oar, and permitted the
galatea to drift with the current.
Sure enough, the little craft inclined towards the branch that appeared
the broader one; and in ten minutes' time had made such way that the
other opening was no longer visible from her decks. The steersman,
confident of being on the right course, gave himself no further
uneasiness; but, once more renewing his hold upon the steering oar,
guided the galatea in the middle of the channel.
Notwithstanding all absence of suspicion as to having gone astray, he
could not help noticing that the banks on each side appeared to be
singularly irregular, as if here and there indented by deep bays, or
reaches of water. Some of these opened out vistas of shining surface,
apparently illimitable, while the dark patches that separated them
looked more like clumps of trees half submerged under water, than
stretches of solid earth.
As the galatea continued her course, this puzzling phenomenon ceased to
be a conjecture; Tipperary Tom saw that he was no longer steering down a
river between two boundary banks, but on a broad expanse of water,
stretching as far as eye could reach, with no other boundary than that
afforded by a _flooded forest_.
There was nothing in all this to excite alarm,--at least in the mind of
Tipperary Tom. The Mundurucu, had he been awake, might have shown some
uneasiness at the situation. But the Indian was asleep,--perhaps
dreaming of some Mura enemy,--whose head he would have been happy to
embalm.
Tom simply supposed himself to be in some part of the Solimoes, flooded
beyond its banks, as he had seen it in more places than one. With this
confidence, he stuck faithfully to his steering oar, and allowed the
galatea to glide on. It was only when the reach of water--upon which the
craft was drifting--began to narrow, or rather after it had narrowed to
a surprising degree, that the steersman began to suspect himself of
having taken the wrong course.
His suspicions became stronger, at length terminating in a conviction
that such was the truth, when the galatea arrived at a part where less
than a cable's length lay between her beam-ends and the bushes that
stood out of the water on both sides of her. Too surely had he strayed
from the "mane sthrame." The craft that carried him could no longer be
in the channel of the mighty Solimoes!
The steersman was alarmed, and this very alarm hindered him from
following the only prudent course he could have taken under the
circumstances. He should have aroused his fellow-voyagers, and
proclaimed the error into which he had fallen. He did not do so. A sense
of shame at having neglected his duty, or rather at having performed it
in an indifferent manner,--a species of regret not uncommon among his
countrymen,--hindered him from disclosing the truth, and taking steps to
avert any evil consequences that might spring from it.
He knew nothing of the great river on which they were voyaging. There
_might_ be such a strait as that through which the galatea was gliding.
The channel might widen below; and, after all, he might have steered in
the proper direction. With such conjectures, strengthened by such hopes,
he permitted the vessel to float on.
The channel _did_ widen again; and the galatea once more rode upon open
water. The steersman was restored to confidence and contentment. Only
for a short while did this state of mind continue. Again the clear water
became contracted, this time to a very strip, while on either side
extended reaches and estuaries, bordered by half-submerged bushes,--some
of them opening apparently to the sky horizon, wider and freer from
obstruction than that upon which the galatea was holding her course.
The steersman no longer thought of continuing his course, which he was
now convinced must be the wrong one. Bearing with all his strength upon
the steering oar, he endeavored to direct the galatea back into the
channel through which he had come; but partly from the drifting of the
current, and partly owing to the deceptive light of the moon, he could
no longer recognize the latter, and, dropping the rudder in despair, he
permitted the vessel to drift whichever way the current might carry her!
Before Tipperary Tom could summon courage to make known to his
companions the dilemma into which he had conducted them, the galatea had
drifted among the tree-tops of the flooded forest, where she was
instantly "brought to anchor."
The crashing of broken boughs roused her crew from their slumbers. The
ex-miner, followed by his children, rushed forth from the tolda. He was
not only alarmed, but perplexed, by the unaccountable occurrence. Mozey
was equally in a muddle. The only one who appeared to comprehend the
situation was the old Indian, who showed sufficient uneasiness as to its
consequences by the terrified manner in which he called out: "The Gapo!
The Gapo!"
_Mayne Reid._
(_To be continued._)
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHARADES.
NO. 1.
An old man lay on a bed of death,
Slowly drawing each labored breath;
His pulse was felt by a friendly hand,
While the doctor issued a stern command
To swallow my _first_ without delay,
If he wished to live till another day.
At this the patient looked my _second_,
And slowly spoke: "When Death has beckoned,
In vain the doctor's healing art;
I now am called, and I depart;
I'm glad I've lasted till my _third_."
The listeners scarcely caught the word
With which escaped the unfettered soul,
And finished then his long--my _whole_.
H. C.
NO. 2.
When I'm my _first_, I lie in bed;
My _second_ wins me gold;
My _third_ I keep safe in my head;
My _fourth_ you may behold
In all its pride, when victory
Shall bid my _whole_ light up the sky.
ARITHMETICAL PUZZLES.
NO. 1.
In a gale of wind, the top part of a flagstaff in my neighbor's garden
was broken off, and struck the ground in my garden at a distance of 15
feet from the bottom of the pole, and in its fall broke two vases, worth
$63.25 apiece. My neighbor, in paying for these vases, made four
payments. The second payment was twice as much as the first; the third
amounted to three times as much as the first; and the last amounted to
five times as much as the first.
Supposing the broken piece of flagstaff to measure 39 feet, what was the
length of the whole pole, and what did my neighbor pay at each payment?
NO. 2.
100--1--5--1--50.
This is what all young people ought to be.
ENIGMA. No. 1.
I am composed of 13 letters.
My 8, 10, is an abrupt dismissal.
My 11, 5, 7, 8, is not short.
My 9, 1, 3, 12, goes well with a knife.
My 13, 12, 6, 7, 12, is an unpleasant animal.
My 13, 1, 3, 3, 4, is what you will be if
you can't discover me.
My 4, 1, 11, 12, is part of an egg.
My 9, 3, 5, 8, 13, a Frenchman would eat.
My 9, 2, 7, you like now.
My whole I hope you will always like.
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.--No. 1.
[Illustration]
H. M. T.
VON RAIL.
There was an old Dutchman, Von Rail,
Who had an ambition to sail,
So he put out to sea,
In a fit of high glee,
That hilarious old person, Von Rail.
[Illustration]
Transcriber's Note:
Hyphenated words have been standardized. Inconsistencies in spellings
have been left as in the original except those listed below.
Page 75--Typo corrected from Para to Para.
End of Project Gutenberg's Our Young Folks, Vol 1, No. 1, by Various