CRUSOE AND HIS MEN.
Almost every boy who is able to read at all has read Robinson Crusoe,
and probably nine out of ten have been foolish enough to wish they had
been in his place. Perhaps they would not be willing to undergo the
dangers of a shipwreck that they might be cast upon a desert island,
for it is by no means certain they would be so fortunate as to escape,
or that the winds would be accommodating enough to blow the wreck
close in to the shore so that they might visit her, and bring away
such articles as they needed to enable them to go to housekeeping.
What we mean to say is, that there are restless, discontented boys in
the world who are never satisfied, and who believe that if they could
only hit upon a plan to transport themselves to some out-of-the-way
part of the world, and could surround themselves with all the comforts
Crusoe is said to have possessed, they would be supremely happy. Some
boys content themselves with _playing_ Robinson Crusoe. A shed built
in the back yard answers the purpose of cave and tent, and there they
spend hour after hour, living over Crusoe-life as it is related in
the story. Imaginary foot-prints are discovered, a make-believe man
Friday is rescued from blood-thirsty cannibals, and numerous attacks
of savages are repulsed with terrible slaughter. Then come the finding
of the Spaniard and Friday's father, the release of the English
captain, and the recovery of the vessel that is to take Robinson
from the island, and there the game ends; for, by the time all these
things are done, the day is generally far spent, and some of the young
actors are obliged to return to their homes. We do not suppose that
any of these make-believe hermits ever thought seriously of hunting
up an uninhabited island in the ocean and living Crusoe-life in sober
earnest? There was one boy, however, who was bold enough to conceive of
such an idea, and that was Sam Barton. He had read the story, believed
every word of it, and was so well pleased with it that he decided to
become a Crusoe himself.
If Sam possessed a single good trait, it was a love of reading. He
never thought of investing any of his money in books, but every piece
of printed paper that he picked up in the streets was read and re-read
until it was completely worn out. One morning, while passing by a
store, he saw a book swept out upon the sidewalk. He never allowed a
prize like that to slip through his fingers, and pouncing upon it, he
carried it off in triumph. It proved to be a copy of Robinson Crusoe.
It had evidently received very rough usage, for it was soiled and badly
torn; but there was enough of it left to make Sam thoroughly disgusted
with the life of a ferry-boy, and to put some very foolish notions
into his head. Considering the story as altogether too good to be kept
to himself, he took his four friends into his confidence, and, during
the three weeks following, Robinson Crusoe received the best part of
their attention. When the book was finished its hero was declared to
be a "jolly old feller," and Sam startled his companions by wondering
if they couldn't have a splendid time if they should camp out on Block
Island, and live as he had done! This gave them something to think and
talk about, and the matter was discussed every time they could get
together. They very speedily came to an understanding on one point, and
that was, that during the coming summer, they would bid farewell to
Newport and turn Crusoes. This being settled, the question then arose,
where should they go? Block Island would not answer their purpose,
because it was in a civilized country. True, they had often seen goats
there, but they belonged to the farmers, who would not consent to
have them shot at or chased by dogs. There were grapes in abundance
on the island, but they grew in gardens and vineyards, and were
claimed by persons who would not permit the young Crusoes to gather
them at pleasure, even though they did want to cure them for raisins.
There were no savages in that region to visit the island with their
prisoners, and there would be but a poor prospect for fights, unless
it was with the farmers, or with their parents, who would, no doubt,
attempt to bring them home again. This question troubled them for three
or four days; and then Sam, who was the acknowledged leader of the
enterprise, proposed that they should put to sea in his yawl, and "keep
going," until they found a place that suited them, a suggestion to
which all the boys at once agreed.
The next thing they talked about was their supplies. They _might_ be
fortunate enough to find the wreck of a vessel somewhere, but, after
all, the prospect was not very flattering; so it was decided that
every thing of which they imagined they would stand in need should be
procured before leaving the village. They would require pieces of cable
with which to build the wall in front of their cave, canvas for their
tent, an adze to cut out boards, a crowbar with which to make their
cave larger after the tent was put up, a dog to chase the goats, lead
for bullets, and guns to shoot the bullets after they were made; in
short, every thing that Crusoe possessed they were determined to have;
and, in order to be sure on this point, Sam, with infinite trouble,
made out a list of articles from the book.
No sooner was it settled to their satisfaction that their plans could
be carried out, than each boy began to exert himself to procure his
share of the provisions and equipment. A certain portion of the money
they earned was paid into the hands of Jack Bennett, the treasurer
(who, by the way, was once soundly whipped by Sam, because he spent
two cents of the public funds for pea-nuts), and articles of every
description that were found about the streets and wharves, especially
old horseshoes, and scraps of copper, were speedily taken in charge by
the enthusiastic members of the Crusoe band. In a very short space of
time they had a large stock of useless material on hand, and then they
began to feel the want of a suitable hiding-place for it. This proved
to be another source of trouble to them, until, one day, Jack Bennett,
while cruising about under Mr. Newcombe's wharf, in the hope of finding
something that would be of value to him, conceived the idea of a cave.
This plan being hailed with delight by the others, work was begun
upon it that very night; and at the end of two weeks, the cave was
completed, and all the articles they had gathered were conveyed to it
for safe keeping. A better hiding-place could not have been devised. It
was located under the street which ran in front of the warehouse, and,
when assembled there to hold their secret meetings, the boys could hear
the wagons rattling over their heads. The entrance to their place of
retreat was, as we have said, under the wharf, where no one, not even
the ferry-boys, ever thought of going. Even in the day-time it was very
dark under there, but to make "assurance doubly sure" the door had been
concealed so that there was little probability that it would ever be
discovered.
The interior of their hiding-place was finished off according to the
description they had read of Crusoe's cave, with props in the center to
keep it from falling in upon them, and shelves on the left hand side
of the entrance, upon which were stowed a variety of useful things.
Against the walls were arranged the heavier articles, such as bits of
cable, scraps of iron, lead, and copper, pieces of canvas, a small
grind-stone, a hatchet or two, several pairs of oars, some carpenter's
tools, and two or three boxes containing wheat and rice, which were to
be planted as soon as they reached their island. Opposite the entrance,
reposing upon a comfortable bed of straw, was a ferocious looking
bull-dog, which had come to Sam in much the same way that Crusoe's dog
came to him; not from a wreck, of course, but from a schooner which
was discharging her cargo at Mr. Newcombe's wharf. Sam had often seen
and admired the animal, and believing that he was just the dog they
wanted to hunt goats with, he had scraped an acquaintance with him by
throwing him pieces of bread and meat, when none of the crew of the
vessel happened to be looking at him. In a short time he and the dog
became excellent friends, and one day, by exhibiting a tempting piece
of beef, he induced the animal to jump overboard and follow him under
the wharf, where he was captured and put into the cave, to remain until
his master was ready to start on his voyage.
Upon the walls, at the right hand of the entrance, hung five
single-barrel shot-guns, each of which had cost the would-be Crusoes
two dollars and a half. Below them hung their powder-horns, shot-bags
and hunting knives. A flour barrel, turned bottom up, answered the
purpose of a table, and upon it, protected from the damp and dirt by a
piece of canvas, was the dilapidated copy of Robinson Crusoe, which was
to Sam and his friends what the chart and compass are to the mariner.
The members of the Crusoe band had chosen the names of their favorite
heroes; and when holding their meetings in the cave, they dropped their
true names, and answered only to their assumed ones. Sam, of course,
was Robinson Crusoe. He was the leader of the band while they remained
on shore, and he was to be the captain of the vessel during the voyage,
and the governor of the island when they found it. The names of the
others were Jack Spaniard, Friday, Will Atkins, and Xury. (Sam did not
know how to pronounce this last name correctly. He always called it
Exury.)
"Now, then," said the chief, pulling off his cap and seating himself
on a dry goods box beside the flour barrel, "we're ready to begin
business. Friday, put that lantern on the table. Have any of you any
thing to offer?"
"Yes," replied Will Atkins, "I've got something we had oughter take
along. It's a watch."
"A watch!" repeated the chief. "It sha'n't go!"
"Hold on till you see it, governor!" said Atkins, fumbling in his
pockets, and finally producing a huge brass time-piece, which ticked so
loudly that it could be heard by every one in the cave. "It's a thing a
feller can't get every day."
"I don't care, I don't want to see it," replied Sam. "Here's the thing
we go by," he added, picking up the list he had made out. "Read that,
an' then read the book, an' see if you can find any thing about a watch
in either of them. Crusoe didn't have no time-piece, an' we ain't a
goin' to have none, neither."
"I say he did have a watch!" insisted Atkins. "Don't the book say that
after he eat his dinner, he lay down an' slept till two o'clock? How
did he know when to get up if he didn't have a watch?"
"I don't know nothin' about that! If he'd had a watch the book would
have said so."
"But what shall I do with this? I give a sail an' a pair of good oars
fur it, an' the feller said he wouldn't never trade back!"
"You can pitch it in the harbor, if you have a mind to," said Sam. "It
sha'n't go on this expedition so long as I'm governor."
"I think this is a purty how-de-do," said Atkins. "If I can't have
things my way sometimes I won't go. I don't believe there ever was such
a cove as Robinson Crusoe, nohow."
"Eh!" exclaimed Sam, in astonishment. "Do you mean to say that Crusoe
never lived on that island all by himself fur so many years? Who writ
this yere book, then?"
"Some feller made it up all out of his own head!" said Atkins, boldly.
This declaration, according to the laws of the Crusoe band, was
treason, and it created an uproar in an instant. The boys all sprung
to their feet, and Atkins, seeing that he got himself into trouble,
seized an oar and backed into the farthest corner of the cave; while
the dog, thinking that something unusual was going on, barked and
whined furiously. It is very probable that the traitor would have been
severely handled, had not the governor interfered in his behalf.
"Hold on there, men!" he exclaimed. "Jack Spaniard, you and Friday come
back here an' set down. Exury, kick that dog and make him hush up.
Will Atkins, put down that ar oar an' behave yourself, like a man had
oughter do!"
The traitor hesitated.
"Atkins, I say, you'd better drop that ar oar an' come here an' set
down," repeated the governor. "If I take a hand in this muss, I'll make
you open your eyes!"
The culprit evidently feared the chief more than all the rest of the
band, for, without further parley, he put the oar back in its place and
resumed his seat.
"Now, Will Atkins," continued the governor, "don't you never say
agin what you said a minute ago--that there never was no such feller
as Robinson Crusoe--'cause I know there was. He writ this yere book
himself; a blind man could see that, an' I aint agoin' to have no
feller say he didn't. You've got the best name of any of us! Will
Atkins made them fellers in Robinson's island a heap of trouble, an'
you're tryin' to do the same thing by us. Now, I'm different from what
they were, an' I won't stand much nonsense. You can just bear that in
mind. As fur that ar ole watch of your'n, if Crusoe had had one, I
wouldn't say a word. But the book don't say nothin' about it, an' so I
know he didn't have none. We aint agoin' to take nothin' with us that
he didn't have, so I say again, that the watch sha'n't go. Shall it,
fellers?"
Jack Spaniard, Friday, and Xury, being highly enraged at the traitor,
sustained the chief in his decision, and Atkins was compelled to
swallow his disappointment as best he could. Strange as it may appear,
however, this incident did not disturb the harmony of the meeting.
Atkins was at first held in check by fear of the governor; but when a
pocketful of fish-hooks and lines which he had offered to increase the
general stock was accepted, it had the effect of restoring him to his
usual spirits.
After this business had been transacted, the governor entered upon a
discussion of the subject which was just then occupying the most of
his thoughts. He began by repeating what he had told his companions
a hundred times before--that Bobby Jennings was the meanest fellow
he had seen for many a day, too mean to be permitted to live longer
in Fishertown; that he had repeatedly refused to give him one of the
twenty-dollar gold pieces for his skiff, and had then gone off and paid
one, and perhaps both, of them for the Go Ahead No. 2; and, finally,
that he had shown a determination to do as he pleased in the harbor,
and that was something they could not stand.
"He must have gone to bed by this time," continued the governor; "so
we'll jest slip up to his shantee an' capture that fine craft of his'n.
He can't live without a boat, an' we'll see where he'll get another."
"What will we do with her?" asked Friday. "Burn her?"
"O, no!" replied the chief; "that would be throwing away money: we'll
bring her down here and hide her."
"That's dangerous," said Atkins. "Bob'll make a powerful fuss when he
finds out that his boat is gone; an' if we should be diskivered"----.
Atkins finished the sentence by shrugging his shoulders, and shaking
his head significantly.
"We'd best burn her, or sink her in the bay," said Jack Spaniard, "an'
then nobody can't prove nothin' agin us."
"That'll only be throwin' away money fur nothin'," repeated the
governor. "No one in the village knows any thing about this yere cave,
an' so they won't think of lookin' here fur her. When the fuss has
kinder died out, we'll paint the boat over, give her a new name, an'
sell her to somebody an' divide the profits. In that way, we can raise
a few dollars to help along the expedition, you know."
This last remark decided the argument in Sam's favor. The members of
the band all had the good of the expedition at heart, and any thing
that promised to advance its interests, no matter how much danger it
might bring to themselves, was heartily supported. They spent a few
moments in talking over the details of their plan, especially the
course they ought to adopt to secure the skiff without arousing any
of the inmates of the fisher-boy's cabin, and then, blowing out the
light, they crawled out of the cave, stepped into the yawl, and pulled
for the beach. The governor, being the best oarsman, again assumed
the management of the boat, while the others, as before, stretched
themselves out under the thwarts. This precaution was always adopted
in going to and from the cave, for they wisely reasoned that if five
boys should be seen making nightly visits to Mr. Newcombe's wharf, it
might attract attention, which would lead to an investigation, and the
discovery of their hiding-place.
Under the chief's skillful guidance, the yawl passed through the
shipping and cleared the harbor in safety; and, in accordance with
the plans they had decided upon before leaving the cave, Sam kept the
boat headed out to sea until the cabins on the beach were lost to view
in the darkness; then he turned, and pursued a course parallel with
the shore for about a quarter of a mile, when he again headed the
yawl toward the village. By these maneuvers, he hoped to reach the
fisher-boy's wharf without attracting the notice of any persons who
might happen to be walking on the beach.
Long experience had made Sam a capital hand to manage expeditions of
this kind, and, knowing that it was not best to be in too great a
hurry, he became more cautious than ever in his movements. He kept the
yawl moving very slowly, and so silently that even the four boys who
were crouching in the bow could not detect the slightest splashing in
the water. In half an hour they came within sight of Bob's home, which
was shrouded in total darkness. In front of the cabin they saw the Go
Ahead No. 2 made fast to what the fisher-boy called his wharf, which
was nothing more nor less than a heavy stake driven into the sand. A
few more silent sweeps of the oar brought them to the beach, and Sam
turned the yawl around until the stems of both boats were so close
together that the boys could step from one to the other.
"Now, Jack Bennett," he whispered, "make fast to the skiff. Bill
Stevens, jump ashore and cast off. Don't make too much noise."
The boys addressed began to bestir themselves, and, while Jack got
out a rope with which to make fast to their prize, Bill climbed over
the stern of the yawl into the skiff, and thence to the shore, where
he discovered a difficulty at once: one end of a heavy chain was made
fast to the skiff's bow by a staple, and the other was wound around the
stake and confined by a padlock.
"Sam," he whispered, "she's chained up tighter'n a brick!"
"Pull up the stake, then," replied Sam.
Bill did his best to obey this order, but the fisher-boy had put the
stake there to stay, and he could not move it an inch.
"Hurry up, there," whispered the chief, impatiently, "an' be careful
how you rattle that chain. If that ar Bobby Jennings should hear
us"----.
"Send more men ashore," interrupted Bill; "it's a little bigger job
than I can do, all by myself."
The three boys who remained in the yawl were ordered out to Bill's
assistance; but, for a long time, the post resisted their efforts, and
remained firmly fixed in its bed. Finally, however, by pulling it first
one way, and then another, and scraping away the sand, they succeeded
in loosening it, so that, by one united effort, they lifted it out and
placed it carefully in the skiff.
"All clear!" whispered Bill; and, in a moment more, Crusoe and his men,
with their prize, had disappeared in the darkness.