THE EDITH GOES DOWN TO GREEN POINT.
"Shove off!" said Master Archy, in the most dignified manner, as he sunk
upon the velvet cushions in the stern sheets of the four-oar boat.
"Shove off!" repeated Dandy, who, as coxswain of the boat, was charged
with the execution of the orders delivered by his imperial master.
Cyd, who was the bow oarsman, opened his mouth from ear to ear,
displaying a dual set of ivories which a dentist would have been proud
to exhibit as specimens of his art, and with a vigorous thrust of the
boat-hook, forced the light craft far out into the stream, thus
disturbing the repose of a young alligator which was sunning himself
upon a snag. Cyd was fond of the water, and had no taste for the various
labors that were required of him about the house and stable. He was
delighted with the prospect of a sail on the river; and being a slave,
and not permitted to express his views in the ordinary way, he did so by
distending his mouth into a grin which might have intimidated the
alligator on the log.
"Toss!" added Dandy; and up went the four oars of the rowers.
"Let fall!" and with a precision which would have been creditable to the
crew of a commodore's barge, the blades struck the water as one.
"Give way!" and the boat dashed down the stream, impelled by the
vigorous strokes of the dusky oarsmen.
The crew were boys of sixteen, or thereabouts, selected from the hands
on the plantation with reference to their size and muscular development.
They were clothed in white duck pants, blue cotton frocks, trimmed with
white, and wore uniform straw hats, encircled by black bands, upon which
was inscribed, in gilt letters, the name of the boat, "Edith," in
compliment to the young boatman's sister.
The Edith was a magnificent craft, built in New York, and fitted,
furnished, and ornamented without regard to cost. Colonel Raybone had a
nephew who was a passed-midshipman in the navy, who, while on a visit to
Redlawn, had instructed the crew in the elements of boating. The black
boys did not regard their labors as work, and took so much pride in
making themselves proficient in their duties, that they might well have
challenged comparison with the best boat club in the country.
Master Archy was very dignified and magnificent as he reclined in the
stern of the beautiful craft. He said nothing, and of course the
coxswain, who sat behind him, was not privileged to say any thing. It
was his duty to speak when he was spoken to, and with a keen eye he
watched the progress of the boat, as she cut her way through the
sluggish waters of the bayou.
Dandy, as we have before remarked, was a youth of quick parts, and under
the scientific instruction of Mr. Midshipman Raybone, he had thoroughly
mastered the art of boating, not only in its application to row boats,
but also in reference to sailing craft; and there was no person on the
place more skilful in the management of the schooner than the
body-servant of Master Archy.
The Edith flew on her course, frightening from their repose the herons
and the alligators that were enjoying the sunshine of the bright spring
morning. Master Archy did speak sometimes, but this morning he was
unusually taciturn. He seemed to be brooding over something: those who
did not know him might have supposed that he was thinking; but the son
and heir of Redlawn did not often give himself up to meditation in its
higher sense. It was more likely that he was wondering what he should do
next, for time hung heavy on his hands. He had nothing to do but amuse
himself, and he had completely exhausted his slender ingenuity in
devising new amusements.
"Stop her," said he, languidly, after the boat had gone about two miles.
Dandy obeyed the order without a question, and the Edith soon floated
listlessly on the water, waiting the pleasure of her magnificent owner.
"Back to the pier," added Archy; and under the orders of her skilful
coxswain, she was put about, and darted up the river on her return.
The shining ebony face of the great Athenian philosopher's namesake
looked glum and discontented. He was not satisfied with the order; but
not being a free agent, he was cruelly deprived of the luxury of
grumbling. Roaming in the cane-brake, or sunning himself on a log like
the juvenile alligators, while Master Archy took his walk, or even
pulling the boat, was much more to his taste than rubbing down the
horses and digging weeds out of the gravel walks in front of the
mansion. The order to return, therefore, was a grievous disappointment
to him; for the head gardener or the head groom would be sure to find a
job for him that would last all day.
Master Archy did not know his own mind; and he did not have the same
mind for a great while at a time. Cyd supposed he had thought of
something that would please him better on the estate. No doubt if the
surfeited young devotee of pleasure had permitted his dark companions to
think for him, they might have invented a new pleasure; but he seldom
spoke to them, and they were not allowed to speak to him, except in a
case of emergency.
The boat reached the pier, and was brought alongside the landing steps,
in a style that was above criticism. Poor Cyd was disgusted and
indignant at the idea of having his day spoiled in this capricious
manner. If he had been born under the free skies of New England, he
would, no doubt, have remonstrated; but his social position and the
discipline of the boat did not permit him to utter even a word of
disapprobation. But Cyd was needlessly disturbed in the present
instance, for his lordly master had no intention of abandoning the
cruise, though if he had been so condescending as to say so when he
ordered the Edith to return, he would have saved her crew all the bitter
pangs of disappointment which they had endured during the retrograde
passage.
"Cyd!" said Master Archy, when the boat came up to the steps, and the
rowers had tossed their oars.
"Sar!" replied Cyd, exploding the word as though he had been a member of
Monsieur Crapeau's class in French elementary sounds, and with a start
which seemed to shake every fibre in his wiry frame.
"Do you know where my boxing gloves are?"
"Yes, Massa Archy; in de gym-shum," answered Cyd, again exhibiting his
ivories, for the case began to look slightly hopeful.
"In the what?" demanded Archy, a languid smile appearing upon his face.
"In de gym-shum," said Cyd, taking advantage of this faint smile, and
exploding the two syllables with all the vigor of a pair of healthy
lungs.
"In the gymnasium, you black rascal!"
"Yes, Massa Archy, dem's um----in de gym----shum. Dat's jes what I say,
massa----in de gym-shum."
"Go up and get them; and mind you don't keep me waiting all day,"
continued Archy, who was not equal to the effort of making the boy
pronounce the word correctly.
Cyd darted off with a speed that promised the best results.
"I feel stupid to-day, and I think a bout with the gloves will do me
good," yawned Archy, with a hideous gape, as he stretched himself at
full length upon the velvet cushions, with his feet hanging out over the
water.
"Perhaps it would, sir," replied Dandy, to whom the remark was supposed
to be addressed.
"We will go down to Green Point," added he.
"Yes, sir."
The conversation ended here, the young magnate of Redlawn closing his
eyes and gaping by turns for the next ten minutes, till Cyd, puffing
like a grampus, appeared on the steps.
"Here's de glubs, Massa Archy," said he, as he handed them to the
attentive coxswain.
"Where's the other pair, you black rascal?" roared Archy, springing up
from his recumbent posture.
"I only fotched ober de one pair, massa," replied Cyd, with an
exceedingly troubled expression.
"Cyd, you are a fool!"
"Yes, Massa Archy," answered the black boy, who seemed to be perfectly
willing to grant the position.
"What do you suppose I want of one pair of gloves!" continued Archy,
angrily, as he seized one of the oars, and aimed a blow at the head of
the culprit, which, however, Cyd was expert enough to dodge. "Go and get
the other pair; and if you are gone half as long as you were before,
I'll have you flogged."
The eye of Dandy kindled for a moment,--for the same blood flowed in the
veins of both,--as he listened to the brutal words of his young master.
"That boy is a fool!" said Archy, as he settled down into his reclining
posture again. "He needs a whipping to sharpen his understanding."
Dandy wholly and entirely dissented from this view; but of course he was
not so impolitic as to state his views. In ten minutes more, Cyd
reappeared with another pair of boxing gloves; but these were not the
right ones. They were too large either for Dandy or his master, and the
poor boy was solemnly assured that he should be whipped when they
returned from the excursion. The coxswain was then sent, and during his
absence, Archy amused himself in pointing out the enormity of Cyd's
conduct, first in bringing one pair, and then bringing the wrong pair of
gloves.
Dandy returned in fifteen minutes, and after snarling at him for being
so long, Master Archy gave the order for the boat to push off. All the
forms were gone through with as before, and again the Edith darted down
the bayou. After a pull of five miles down the Crosscut, they reached
another and larger river. Green Point was the tongue of land between the
two streams, and here Master Archy and his coxswain landed.