was anxious to be detailed for milk at once, and the Vice, who is,
"Steel amid the din of arms
And wax amid the fair,"
longed to air his French in connection with the girls, whom the
Commodore represented as possessed of rare charms and engaging manners.
It was evident that there would be no trouble about the milk detail at
this camp. Indeed a rivalry sprang up between the Purser and the Vice
which was only kept within bounds by the necessity of a co-partnership,
one being as hopelessly embarrassed in canine society as was the other
in that of young women. It followed as a natural result that they
invariably went for milk in company and were a long time in getting it.
The Vice's French was cultivated to a degree which left him without
a rival in the fleet, while the two always came back to camp with a
retinue of dogs which nearly drove the Cook crazy by investigating the
expeditionary stores.
On the grassy plateau before mentioned, the four graceful boats lay
side by side, and in them as the fire burned low, the four voyagers
composed themselves to rest, and the Cook and Purser were lulled to
slumber by the tones of the Vice who pointed out the constellations,
and discoursed learnedly of the precession of the equinoxes. The
Commodore, who chanced to be somewhat wakeful, feigned an interest in
astronomy, which he had never before displayed, and evinced such an
appetite for sidereal nomenclature that he presently had the Vice out
of bed, so to speak, and shiveringly endeavoring to discover certain
hypothetical stars whose locality the Commodore carefully described,
but which could not be seen from the recumbent position occupied by his
companion. Having for a sufficient space indulged in this justifiable
revenge for certain insubordinate acts on the part of the Vice, the
Commodore suddenly became sleepy, and left the astronomer to discover
the ruse at his leisure.
The next day was Sunday and sunny, and a canvass of commanders showed
that the squadron was Sabbatarian to a degree which would almost
satisfy a Pharisee. This feeling was so strong in the Vice, whose day
it was to be scullion, that he volunteered to leave until Monday all
dishes needing washing, but the Purser, who succeeded him with the
dish-cloth, declined to exact any such extreme test of the Vice's
fidelity to the fourth commandment. A suggestion, by the Cook, that the
officers should attend divine service in a body, was voted down, on the
ground, that the nearest church, whose spire was plainly visible down
the river, was distant more than a Sabbath day journey. (N. B. There
was no wind, and to paddle back from church would be to paddle against
the current.) But the Cook was determined to go to church. He shaved
himself, sponged his uniform into some semblance of neatness, oiled
his shoes until they lost some of their rusty look, emptied the baggy
breast-pockets of his shirt, unloaded his boat, and sponged out the
inside. Then he washed and smoothed a white handkerchief, the latter
operation being performed by folding the kerchief, "four double,"
placing it between two folds of a sail, and sitting determinedly upon
it for the space of half an hour. Then the Cook carefully disposed
the handkerchief in his pocket, so that some inches of white corner
should show against the dark blue of his shirt; he bade his slothful
companions a reproachful farewell, shoved his boat from shore, and
started for the sanctuary. The distance was at least five miles, the
sun very hot, and the hour uncertain, but regarding the latter the Cook
had some experience in guessing time rudely by the apparent altitude of
the sun, so he paddled briskly along, and though he perspired freely,
the fact led him to compare himself, with considerable satisfaction,
with the early American settlers who endured so much discomfort
rather than remain away from church. That he had no prayer-book, and
was rather unfamiliar with the Mass except as a verbal accompaniment
to some of his favorite music, did not distress him greatly, for in
truth he was not as intent upon worship as he might have been. He had
gone to church in French-American settlements in other days, and had
seen how the worshippers cast off the dingy garments of the farm and
shop, and appeared in bright and costly raiment, so the Cook was now
going to church principally in search of the picturesque. At the end
of half an hour's paddling he saw that opposite the church he was
aiming for there was another, which had been hitherto hidden by the
foliage upon a small island. The sacred edifices, with their dependent
villages, seemed to be of equal size, and the Cook was distraught with
uncertainty as to which to visit. Then along the road of one bank he
saw many vehicles passing at the trot and full of people. Couldn't
be?--yes, it was true--that the service at one church was over. The
Cook hastily took a racing stroke, and made for the other church,
which was still a mile away, but suddenly a procession of carriages
appeared from that direction. The Cook dubiously paused in mid-stream,
endeavored to estimate the two lines of vehicles to ascertain which was
most promising; then he ran his boat ashore and scrambled up the bank.
A bramble claimed his handkerchief, but he did not pause to contest the
claim; he dashed across the dusty road, seated himself on the top-rail
of a fence, and rigidly inspected the occupants of the vehicles until
of vehicles there were no more. Then with a sigh he descended from his
perch and started to paddle back, against the current, to his camp
and the hungry men for whom he had to prepare dinner. Even his small
measure of Sabbatarian virtue had its reward, however, for just then
there came along a tug towing a barge load of lumber; under its shady
side the Cook found a convenient place to tie his own boat, while from
the cabin-window of the barge, the Captain's black-eyed, black-haired
wife, leaned and, taking the Cook for an innocent scull-racer from
Montreal, warned him impressively against "the cheats, the hogs of
Yankees," who would make his life miserable if he went on to the States.
On reaching camp the Cook found the Commodore and the Vice engaged in
varnishing their somewhat tarnished boats, one using brown shellac, and
the other, coach varnish of the costliest description.
"Shellac," the Commodore was saying, "is certainly inferior to your
varnish in beauty of finish, but it dries in fifteen minutes, and
stands water, for all that I can see, quite as well."
The Vice admitted disappointment in that the varnish which he had been
at such pains to procure, turned a bluish-white color, when exposed to
wet, recovering its lustre, however, on drying. This was certainly an
objectionable feature, and marred the complexion of the Rochefort in
a way that was highly exasperating to her owner, especially when his
companions jeered him on the number of coats with which he had covered
his boat.
"Look at my varnish," said the Cook finally after the others had
somewhat exhausted the topic. "It is not shellac, neither is it coach
varnish, yet the Cherub is arrayed in a coat which retains its lustre
better than either of yours."
"What is it?"
"Even 'Pellucidite.' I know not the process whereby the lac is
dissolved, which forms its basis, but it stands water better than any
other that I know of, and is no more expensive than the ordinary kinds."
In fact after duly weighing the matter, the cruisers concluded that
Pellucidite is the best varnish known to them for general use on
canoes. It appears to be less affected by constant exposure than any
other that they have tried.
"Varnishing," said the Vice, as he lay in the shade and contemplated
the Rochefort glittering in the sun, "is perhaps the most ennobling
way for a canoeist to spend his time after he has received his boat
from the builder. Every coat you put on adds so much to her beauty. I
believe I've gone over my boat in parts thirteen times."
"That's one thing that I don't like about a Chrysalid," said the
Commodore. "Half your original outlay goes for fittings which it
is much better fun to make yourself, and you have no recourse but
to varnish and re-varnish. Now you get a Red Laker clear fore and
aft--excepting two and a half feet of decking, at bow and stern,
and you go to work and contrive and experiment in a manner highly
stimulating to a properly organized mind, until you get her decked or
covered over with a removable covering of wood or water-proof cloth,
and rigged to suit you. I admit, though, that some people would rather
pay more money and have less tinkering to do. Nevertheless I hold that
tinkering is essentially a higher order of intellectual employment than
is mere varnishing, admirable as that may be when used in moderation."
"There is enough to do in all conscience," replied the Vice, "about
a Chrysalid. Look at my hatches. They consumed an enormous amount of
brain force in the preparation."
As has been already stated, the Chrysalid boats have rather more than
four feet of bow and stern devoted to water-tight compartments, which
of course occupy a great deal of space, but are extremely useful in
case of accident. These spaces the Vice had made available for light
articles, such as extra clothing, etc., by cutting hatchways in his
deck, and fastening them down by means of thumbscrews, the seams
being rendered water-tight by strips of india rubber used as packing.
Red Lakers, on the contrary, have all the room they want, but their
water-tight compartments, if they have any, are only large enough
for the purpose of flotation. Their owners therefore are fain to be
content with water-proof bags or sheets for the protection of their
haberdashery.
The charms of the natural scenery about the island finally lured
the Vice away from the annotations which he was preparing for a new
edition of "Jefferson's Manual," and he went with the Cook to explore
a beautiful creek which emptied opposite the camp. Its charms were
many, and its ways as devious as those of a woman about whom romancers
write, so the couple followed it as a matter of course, until the
declining sun warned them to return to their camp, but as they turned
their boats' heads homeward they paddled only with leisurely strokes,
so loth were they to leave the beautiful alternations of sunny hillside
and shady grove, solitary giants of trees, and thickets full of birds,
mats of lily pads, and bars covered with just water enough to enhance
the brilliancy of their shining sands. The Cook heaved a deep sigh, and
said,
"What a pity that this fair spot is where it is, among a set of
peasants who are blind to its true value."
"Indeed it is," said the Vice. "There never was a finer bit of ground
for a beer garden, and such a place would call for a brewery; this, in
turn, would bring out an opposition establishment, and malt and hops
would look up, while coopers would find steady employment."
"Mercy!" murmured the Cook imploringly, "mercy!"
"Or," continued the Vice, "it would make a beautiful park; not large
to be sure, but there is enough forestland to clear, and enough bare
land to plant with forest trees, to occupy a great many voters along
about election time. Then the grades are such that the roads could be
constructed only by an immense amount of work, and as there's no stone
near by, the contract for road-filling would amount to a handsome
thing. Properly managed, such a park would hold a party together for
twenty years, unless some set of old fogies happened to impose a
landscape gardener and architect upon the commissioners."
The Cook made haste to quit the creek and return to camp, and that
same evening he experienced a severe bilious attack. As the Purser was
already ill from a surfeit of rice and maple syrup at dinner, and the
Vice was rapidly succumbing to the same viands, the Commodore charged
himself with preparing a supper which should have for its principal
feature an entirely new dish--to wit, fried frogs' legs. He had devised
a beautiful method of taking the musical batrachians. He baited a
very fine fish-hook with a bit of red flannel and affixed it to an
eighty-foot trout-line. Then joining a fourteen foot rod he walked
along the shady shore, and cast his line. Should the fisher for trout
sneer at such outlandish fishing, and pot-fishing at that, he should
know that to catch a bull-frog with hook and line requires a better eye
and more skillful hand than are sufficient to successful trout-fishing.
The frog never "rises" to the bait; the latter must be let gently down
before his eyes and nose, and then, as he leisurely opens his jaws, be
dropped into his mouth. The slightest breath of wind, or tremor of arm,
causes the bait to graze the cheek of the game, and then an angry foot
is lifted to brush it away, and a goggle eye rolls back reproachfully
at the disturber. When the bait is taken, the frog seems to realize
but slowly that anything unusual has occurred, and the sportsman is
likely to accuse him of lacking the proper spirit of a game fish (or
beast, or bird, whichever he may please to call it), but when the truth
dawns upon the frog's mind he gives a leap, to view which would drive a
kangaroo into mortification and suicide, and then goes for deep water
with an alacrity which causes the reel to buzz merrily. Having tested
the length of the line, however, his method changes to that of a goat,
and he pulls stubbornly in a single direction while the sportsman reels
him in. The Commodore illustrated this operation but once however, for
after landing his first frog he was unable to find another to try his
wiles upon. A few moments before, the creatures sat numerously along
the water's edge, blankly blinking, and as reserved and unsympathetic
as a body of officeholders at a civil service reform meeting; the
spectacle of the suspension of one of their own number, however, was
one which they were quick to see and take warning by.
Later in the evening the quartette received a call from a fine looking
old farmer and his wife, both arriving in one of those peculiarly
rotten old skiffs which, when one sees them in use, seem strong
arguments in favor of a special Providence interposing to protect
human life. The lady was curious to see the culinary outfit of the
party, while her husband led conversation slowly but surely toward the
subject of the late war in the States. When he learned that some of
the party had seen military service, he manifested great satisfaction,
and told of his own experiences, which the military and political
exigencies of France had caused to be of varied but stirring nature.
The Vice listened with a sympathy born of his recollections of the
blockade-running service, but when he learned that the old fellow,
when a soldier, had once fraternized with the revolutionists and
fought beside them behind a barricade, he shouted, "Liberté, Egalité,
Fraternité," and tumultously embraced the grizzly old warrior in true
French fashion.
The next morning found the expedition still in camp upon the island,
and not caring to depart. Scenery so diversified it had not been the
fortune of any of the party to have seen elsewhere. Every hour of the
day revealed some new beauty, and every change of light discovered
new charms in those which had been seen before. The Cook, who had
become so enamored of the view that he occasionally forgot his official
duties, arose at dawn one morning to enjoy the scene by sunrise. The
air was chilly, so he kindled his fire and soon had a fine bed of
coals behind which he stretched himself, with his face to the east.
The dawn had doffed its bluish-grey night-robe and was putting on
a morning-dress of soft pink, but doing it as leisurely as if this
were not an age of action, and as if time were not money. Then its
complexion slowly but steadily brightened under the influence of
atmosphere unpolluted by factory chimney, and undisturbed by rumbling
omnibus or rattling milk-wagon. It glanced kindly down into the
farmer's barnyard, and received murmuring acknowledgments from the
cattle and fowls; it peered between the young trees on the steep bank
of the opposite shore, and each of them seemed to stand a little
straighter than before, while each leaf gazed down into the watery
mirror beneath and made its most elaborate toilet. The river saw it
coming, and, ashamed of its own leaden complexion, hastened to throw
over its face a misty veil which should prevent too close a gaze until
the river's only valet should arise from his couch behind the dawn,
and brighten the heavy countenance. The birds greeted cheerily the
acquaintance who came every day, and whose only fault was that it never
remained long enough; the tiny blossoms beneath the trees began to peer
forth at it; a million daisies turned their yellow eyes toward it, and
with each new attention bestowed it blushed more and more. It sent the
politest of zephyrs to beg the river to remove its veil; it lavished
its own charms upon the river until the stream seemed to have emerged
suddenly from the fountain of youth; the most subtle and delicious
perfumes diffused themselves every where, and the Cook breathed them
in with a feeling that he was absorbing Nature's own sweet self.
Then there floated through the air an odor more pronounced and less
fragrant, and the Cook discovered that a large fold of one of his baggy
trouser legs had succumbed to the attentions of the neighboring fire,
and disappeared like the baseless fabric of a vision and left but a rag
behind. Just then the Purser, who at home was a philosopher as well as
an artist, emerged yawning from his couch and proceeded to the river
and his ablutions.
"Purser," said the Cook; "you believe in the conservation of force;
tell me now, I pray you, in what potent form the lost fabric of my
trouser leg will reappear?"
"In a tailor's bill," replied the Purser, and the Cook, a wiser and a
sadder man, sauntered off to fill the expeditionary coffee-pot.
"The squadron," remarked the Commodore, as he drained his second pint
of coffee and laid aside his emptied plate, "will now prepare itself
for the reception of a plain but startling statement. I call upon you
all to bear witness that I did not in the least discourage the little
ebullition on the part of the Cook which led him to run the rapids at
the fort through the humiliating device of getting his boat carried
up stream, so that he could float down. I wish now to inform the fleet
that real rapids are before us. (Sensation, the squadron well knowing
that naught in the nature of rapids intervened between them and the St.
Lawrence.) You all know, by report at least, that the river a few miles
below is crossed by a railway bridge. This railway traverses a rough
section of country and shortly touches the head-waters of a wild river
where they break from one of the largest of our mountain lakes. Over
this road I have secured transportation for the fleet, and in two days
at the latest I hope that the "Becky Sharp" will show the expedition
the way down the "Horse Race" at Lake End. The stream to which I refer
falls into a navigable river which in its turn joins the St. Lawrence
within easy reach of transportation to New York. I have prudently kept
this contemplated change of plan to myself until I could be reasonably
assured of its feasibility. The letters received at the fort gave me
the desired information, and I now submit my proposition to the fleet."
"We don't want to reach any where," said the Purser. "Wherever we are
is paradise."
"No, we don't want to reach any where," said the Vice. "We must in some
way distinguish ourselves from the tramps to whom we outwardly bear
so faithful a resemblance. I'm in no hurry; my canvass for the fall
elections don't begin for a month. Besides, on expeditions like this I
believe, with the Alderman--"
"Wherever we are may be paradise," remarked the Cook, "but I never
heard of manna being found except in the wilderness, and in my official
capacity I would state that the manna of this expedition is reduced to
one pair of frogs'-legs, and that these, having been gathered on the
Sabbath, are, in short, spoiled."
Immediately every man began to stow his boat, and in a short time
the expedition was paddling over the line of the Cook's Sabbath-day
journey. At the first village touched by the squadron the Purser,
who went ashore for stores, discovered that in spite of the distance
from great centres of thought, the rights of woman had gained full
recognition. The store was managed by a woman, who left a loom to wait
upon the customer, while her husband smoked calmly in his chair and
exhibited no sign of disapproval.
Nor were there lacking sufficient indications of the universal
brotherhood of man. The village was as destitute of shade-trees as if
it had been for years under the charge of a New Jersey road-board,
and all forest trees had been as carefully removed from the broad
expanse of farming land as if they had been noxious weeds. A stone pier
which extended a little way into the river had cracked and settled as
thoroughly as it could have done under the fostering care of a dock
commission, and some people living in a house close to a large stagnant
pool bewailed, as a direct visitation of Providence, the serious
illness of a member of their family.
At this point the expedition admitted the advisability of obtaining
from mid-stream all water for drinking and culinary purposes. They saw
numerous small floats, extending fifty or more feet into the river, and
at the end of each of these, (the day being Monday) bent a woman over
a washtub, while at the landward end of the float a fire of driftwood
burned under a kettle, and sturdy daughters of the family were engaged
in tending the fire, wringing the clothes and hanging them on the
bushes to dry. The beautiful simplicity of all these arrangements so
impressed the Vice, that no sooner had the expedition camped on a
verdant point than he remarked that he did not see why men should not
wash as well as women, and extracting some articles of apparel from
their hiding place, he shortly presented the appearance depicted on the
following page, and now and then expressed his surprise that the fleet
was not as much interested in watching his proceedings as it had been
in those of the Canadian _blanchisseuses_ along the water side.
It had needed but the stimulus of action to make the squadron forget
its lotus-life at the island where it seemed always afternoon, and
around the evening fire a healthful reaction set in favor of rapids and
the contemplated change of programme.
[Illustration: "Use Laundry Soap and be Happy."]
XII.
A CHANGE OF SCENE.
After breakfast the Commodore announced that as nearly as he could
estimate the town of St. Ursus was only about one hour's run from the
camp, and that thence the squadron was to be shipped across country, to
Lake End, a freight train being due about the middle of the morning,
and a passenger train following shortly after noon. With light hearts
the squadron paddled down a lovely stretch of river, past one or two
"swell" houses at which the Vice looked askance, as the probable abodes
of an "effete aristocracy." Two ladies, however, were encountered out
rowing in a boat, and as they gave pleasant greeting to the Vice who
happened to pass nearest them, his opinions underwent a marked change,
and he expressed himself as not averse to associating with peeresses in
their own right, as he declared these undoubtedly were.
In due time the bridge was reached; the little station at one end
thereof was enlivened for a time by the presence of four canoes and
their owners, the station-master showed a Montreal paper only a few
hours old, the freight train thundered up and away bearing the most
important part of the command, and after two or three hours of dining
and loafing about, the four inferior beings followed in a passenger
car. Thence an hour later they emerged and stood upon the platform at
Lake End, gazing southward through a rugged mountain gateway which
closed in steeply on the dark blue waters.