MARTIN RATTLER
BY R M BALLANTYNE
1858
EDITOR'S NOTE
"MARTIN RATTLER" was one of, Robert Michael Ballantyne's early books.
Born at Edinburgh in 1825,[1] he was sent to Rupert's Land as a
trading-clerk in the Hudson Bay Fur Company's service when he left
school, a boy of sixteen. There, to relieve his home-sickness, he first
practised his pen in long letters home to his mother. Soon after his
return to Scotland in 1848 he published a first book on Hudson's Bay.
Then he passed some years in a Scottish publisher's office; and in 1855 a
chance suggestion from another publisher led to his writing his first
book for boys--"Snowflakes and Sunbeams, or The Young Fur Traders." That
story showed he had found his vocation, and he poured forth its
successors to the tune in all of some fourscore volumes. "Martin Rattler"
appeared in 1858. In his "Personal Reminiscences" Ballantyne wrote: "How
many thousands of lads have an intense liking for the idea of a sailor's
life!" and he pointed out there the other side of the romantic picture:
the long watches "in dirty unromantic weather," and the hard work of
holystoning the decks, scraping down the masts and cleaning out the
coal-hole. But though his books show something of this reverse side too,
there is no doubt they have helped to set many boys dreaming of
"Wrecks, buccaneers, black flags, and desert lands
On which, alone, the second Crusoe stands."
[Footnote 1: See Note to "The Coral Island" in this series.]
Among these persuasions to the life of adventure "Martin Rattler" is
still one of the favourite among all his books. Ballantyne himself was
fated to die on foreign soil in 1894, at Rome, where he lies buried in
the English Protestant cemetery.
The following is a list of Ballantyne's chief romances, tales of
adventure, and descriptive works:--
"Hudson's Bay, or Every-day Life in the Wilds of North America," etc.,
1848; "Snowflakes and Sunbeams, or the Young Fur Traders," 1856. In 1857
and 1858 appeared, under the pseudonym of "Comus": "The Butterfly's Ball
and the Grasshopper's Feast" (in verse by Roscoe), ed. with music,
coloured illustrations, and a prose version; "Mister Fox"; "My Mother";
"The Robber Kitten" (by the author of "Three Little Kittens"). "The Coral
Island, a Tale of the Pacific Ocean" (with a preface subscribed "Ralph
Rover"), 1858 (1857); "Ungava, a Tale of Esquimaux Land," 1858 (1857);
"Martin Rattler, or a Boy's Adventures in the Forests of Brazil," 1858;
"Ships, the _Great Eastern_ and lesser Craft" (with illustrations), 1859;
"Mee-a-ow! or Good Advice to Cats and Kittens," 1859; "The World of Ice,
or Adventures in the Polar Regions," 1860 (1859); "The Dog Crusoe, a Tale
of the Western Prairies," 1861 (1860); "The Golden Dream, or Adventures
in the Far West," 1861 (1860); "The Gorilla Hunters, a Tale of the Wilds
of Africa," 1861; "The Red Eric, or the Whaler's Last Cruise," 1861; "Man
on the Ocean, a Book for Boys," 1863 (1862); "The Wild Man of the West, a
Tale of the Rocky Mountains," 1863 (1862); "Gascoyne, the Sandal-wood
Trader, a Tale of the Pacific," 1864 (1863); "The Lifeboat, a Tale of our
Coast Heroes," 1864; "Freaks on the Fells, or Three Months' Rustication,"
and "Why I did not become a Sailor," etc., 1865 (1861); "The Lighthouse,
being the Story of a Great Fight between Man and the Sea," etc., 1865;
"Shifting Winds, a Tough Yarn," etc., 1866; "Silver Lake, or Lost in the
Snow," 1867; "A Rescue in the Rocky Mountains," 1867; "Fighting the
Flames, a Tale of the London Fire Brigade," 1868; "Away in the
Wilderness, or Life among the Red Indians and Fur Traders of North
America," 1869; "Erling the Bold, a Tale of the Norse Sea-kings," with
illustrations by the author, 1869; "Deep Down, a Tale of the Cornish
Mines," 1869; "The Floating Light of the Goodwin Sands," with
illustrations by the author, 1870; "The Iron Horse, or Life on the Line,
a Tale of the Grand National Trunk Railway," 1871; "The Norsemen in the
West, or America before Columbus," 1872; "The Pioneers, a Tale of the
Western Wilderness, illustrative of the Adventures and Discoveries
of Sir A. Mackenzie," 1872; "Black Ivory, a Tale of Adventure among
the Slaves of East Africa," 1873; "Life in the Red Brigade, a Story
for Boys," 1873; "The Ocean and its Wonders," 1874; "The Pirate
City, an Algerine Tale," 1875; "Under the Waves, or Diving in Deep
Waters," 1876; "Rivers of Ice, a Tale illustrative of Alpine
Adventure and Glacier Action," 1876; "The Settler and the Savage, a
Tale of Peace and War in South Africa," 1877; "Jarwin and Cuffy"
(Incident and Adventure Library), 1878; "In the Track of the
Troops, a Tale of Modern War," 1878; "Six Months at the Cape, or
Letters to Periwinkle from South Africa," 1879 (1878); "Post
Haste, a Tale of Her Majesty's Mails," 1880 (1879); "The Red Man's
Revenge, a Tale of the Red River Flood," 1880; "Philosopher Jack, a
Tale of the Southern Seas," 1880; "The Lonely Island, or the Refuge
of the Mutineers," 1880; "The Robber Kitten" (in volume of tales by
two or three authors), 1880; "The Collected Works of Ensign Sopht,
late of the Volunteers, illustrated by himself," 1881; "My Doggie
and I," etc., 1881; "The Giant of the North, or Pokings round the
Pole," 1882 (1881); "The Kitten Pilgrims, or Great Battles and
Grand Victories," 1882; "The Madman and the Pirate," 1883; "The
Battery and the Boiler, or Adventures in the Laying of Submarine
Cables," etc., 1883; "Battles with the Sea, or Heroes of the
Lifeboat and Rocket," 1883; "Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished, a
Tale of City-arab Life and Adventure," 1884 (1862); "Twice Bought, a Tale
of the Oregon Gold-fields," 1885 (1863); "The Island Queen, a Tale of the
Southern Hemisphere," etc., 1885; "The Rover of the Andes, a Tale of
Adventure in South America," 1885; "Red Rooney, or the Last of the Crew,"
1886; "The Big Otter, a Tale of the Great Nor'-West," 1887 (1864); "The
Middy of the Moors, an Algerine Story," 1888; "Blue Lights, or Hot Work
in the Soudan, a Tale of Soldier Life," 1888; "The Crew of the _Water
Wagtail_, a Story of Newfoundland," 1889; "A Gallant Rescue" (stories
jolly, stories new, etc.), 1889; "The Fight on the Green" (Miles'
Fifty-two Stories for Boys), 1889; "Charlie to the Rescue, a Tale of the
Sea and the Rockies," with illustrations by the author, 1890; "The Garret
and the Garden..., or the Young Coast-guardsman," 1890; "The Coxswain's
Bride, or the Rising Tide, and other Tales," with illustrations by the
author, 1891; "The Hot Swamp, a Romance of Old Albion," 1892; "Hunted and
Harried, a Tale of the Scottish Covenanters," 1892; "The Walrus Hunters,
a Romance of the Realms of Ice," 1893.
Ballantyne's Miscellany was started in 1863.
MY DEAR YOUNG READERS,
In presenting this book to you I have only to repeat what I have said in
the prefaces of my former works,--namely, that all the important points
and anecdotes are true; only the minor and unimportant ones being
mingled with fiction. With this single remark I commit my work to your
hands, and wish you a pleasant ramble, in spirit, through the romantic
forests of Brazil.
Yours affectionately,
R.M. BALLANTYNE.
[October, 1858.]
MARTIN RATTLER
CHAPTER I
THE HERO AND HIS ONLY RELATIVE
Martin Rattler was a very bad boy. At least his aunt, Mrs. Dorothy
Grumbit, said so; and certainly she ought to have known, if anybody
should, for Martin lived with her, and was, as she herself expressed it,
"the bane of her existence,--the very torment of her life." No doubt of
it whatever, according to Aunt Dorothy Grumbit's showing, Martin Rattler
was "a remarkably bad boy."
It is a curious fact, however, that, although most of the people in the
village of Ashford seemed to agree with Mrs. Grumbit in her opinion of
Martin, there were very few of them who did not smile cheerfully on the
child when they met him, and say, "Good day, lad!" as heartily as if they
thought him the best boy in the place. No one seemed to bear Martin
Rattler ill-will, notwithstanding his alleged badness. Men laughed when
they said he was a bad boy, as if they did not quite believe their own
assertion. The vicar, an old whiteheaded man, with a kind, hearty
countenance, said that the child was full of mischief, full of mischief;
but he would improve as he grew older, he was quite certain of that. And
the vicar was a good judge, for he had five boys of his own, besides
three other boys, the sons of a distant relative, who boarded with him;
and he had lived forty years in a parish overflowing with boys, and he
was particularly fond of boys in general. Not so the doctor, a pursy
little man with a terrific frown, who hated boys, especially little ones,
with a very powerful hatred. The doctor said that Martin was a scamp.
And yet Martin had not the appearance of a scamp. He had fat rosy cheeks,
a round rosy mouth, a straight delicately-formed nose, a firm massive
chin, and a broad forehead. But the latter was seldom visible, owing to
the thickly-clustering fair curls that overhung it. When asleep Martin's
face was the perfection of gentle innocence. But the instant he opened
his dark-brown eyes, a thousand dimples and wrinkles played over his
visage, chiefly at the corners of his mouth and round his eyes; as if the
spirit of fun and the spirit of mischief had got entire possession of the
boy, and were determined to make the most of him. When deeply interested
in anything, Martin was as grave and serious as a philosopher.
Aunt Dorothy Grumbit had a turned-up nose,--a very much turned-up nose;
so much so, indeed, that it presented a front view of the nostrils! It
was an aggravating nose, too for the old lady's spectacles refused to
rest on any part of it except the extreme point. Mrs. Grumbit invariably
placed them on the right part of her nose, and they as invariably slid
down the curved slope until they were brought up by the little hillock at
the end. There they condescended to repose in peace.
Mrs. Grumbit was mild, and gentle, and little, and thin, and
old,--perhaps seventy-five; but no one knew her age for certain, not even
herself. She wore an old-fashioned, high-crowned cap, and a gown of
bed-curtain chintz, with flowers on it the size of a saucer. It was a
curious gown, and very cheap, for Mrs. Grumbit was poor. No one knew the
extent of her poverty, any more than they did her age; but she herself
knew it, and felt it deeply,--never so deeply, perhaps, as when her
orphan nephew Martin grew old enough to be put to school, and she had not
wherewithal to send him. But love is quick-witted and resolute. A
residence of six years in Germany had taught her to knit stockings at a
rate that cannot be described, neither conceived unless seen. She knitted
two dozen pairs. The vicar took one dozen, the doctor took the other. The
fact soon became known. Shops were not numerous in the village in those
days; and the wares they supplied were only second rate. Orders came
pouring in, Mrs. Grumbit's knitting wires clicked, and her little old
hands wagged with incomprehensible rapidity and unflagging
regularity,--and Martin Rattler was sent to school.
While occupied with her knitting, she sat in a high-backed chair in a
very small deep window, through which the sun streamed nearly the whole
day; and out of which there was the most charming imaginable view of the
gardens and orchards of the villagers, with a little dancing brook in the
midst, and the green fields of the farmers beyond, studded with sheep and
cattle and knolls of woodland, and bounded in the far distance by the
bright blue sea. It was a lovely scene, such an one as causes the eye to
brighten and the heart to melt as we gaze upon it, and think, perchance,
of its Creator.
Yes, it was a scene worth looking at; but Mrs. Grumbit never looked at
it, for the simple reason that she could not have seen it if she had.
Half way across her own little parlour was the extent of her natural
vision. By the aid of spectacles and a steady concentrated effort, she
could see the fire-place at the other end of the room; and the portrait
of her deceased husband, who had been a sea-captain; and the white kitten
that usually sat on the rug before the fire. To be sure she saw them very
indistinctly. The picture was a hazy blue patch, which was the captain's
coat; with a white patch down the middle of it, which was his waistcoat;
and a yellow ball on the top of it, which was his head. It was rather an
indistinct and generalized view, no doubt; but she _saw_ it, and that was
a great comfort.