Dear young folks of HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, I have been invited by my
friend, the Editor, to write for you a series of stories in which I
shall tell you of some of the adventures that have happened to me in the
great equatorial forest which begins on the west coast at the sea-shore
and stretches far to the east on both sides of the equator, adventures
which I have not told in _Stories of the Gorilla Country_, _Lost in the
Jungle_, _Wild Life Under the Equator_, _My Apingi Kingdom_, and _The
Country of the Dwarfs_, five books which I wrote especially for you.
During my travels I have had so many strange adventures, I have endured
so many days of hunger and starvation, I have had so many hair-breadth
escapes, I have seen so many strange sights, I have met face to face so
many savage and fierce men and still more savage and dangerous beasts,
that I could spend days in recounting to you the adventures of my life.
Africa is a wonderful country. There are great sandy deserts, extensive
ranges of mountains, immense prairies, vast tracts of brushwood, swampy
lands, great rivers and lakes; but the wonder of that large continent is
the great equatorial forest I discovered, and which contains so many
wild animals and interesting tribes of people.
What an immense forest it is--a sea of trees, if I may use the
expression! No one knows how wide it is, neither do we know its exact
length.
What gigantic trees are seen in that forest! Some rival in size the
great California trees. These are the giants of the forest, and they
rise two or three hundred feet above the other trees, upon which they
look down. They are like sentinels watching over the country. Some of
these big trees are worshipped by the natives. Under the roof of the
mighty branches is the thick jungle, where no man can penetrate easily.
The jungle is the undergrowth of the forest. It is made up of younger
trees: lianas, thorny creepers, kinds of bamboo and rattan, thorny
trees, sword-grass that cuts like a razor, and aloes plant in the swampy
parts. In many places the explorer cannot see a yard off from where he
stands.
What beautiful butterflies and queer insects, rare birds--some with
brilliant plumage--lovely and strange flowers and orchids the traveller
will meet as he explores this unknown land! Though all alone in that
great solitude, he will seldom feel lonely, for his mind will be
occupied all the time.
[Illustration: HIDDEN SNAKES THE CHIEF DANGER OF THE FOREST.]
There are also many disagreeable things in the forest. The most
dangerous, for they are often enemies unseen, are the snakes. There are
snakes that live chiefly in the water. I used to keep a sharp lookout
for them when I bathed in the clear little streams which run through the
woods. There are tree snakes, those who pass a great part of their time
on trees and feed on squirrels, birds, and monkeys; and also land
snakes--that is, snakes that never climb trees and seldom go into the
water. The biggest of them is the python. Often they are coiled along
the trunk of a tree waiting to spring upon a passing gazelle. But there
are so many venomous snakes, it makes me shudder as I think of them with
their triangular heads. What fangs they have, especially the _Clotho
nasicornis_, a thick short snake! Its fangs for all the world look like
fish bones. In color that snake can hardly be distinguished from the
ground and dead leaves on which it crawls. It is of great thickness
round the middle; its head is very huge and hideous, being triangular in
shape, and having an erect proboscis or born rising from the tip of its
nose. Besides snakes, there are centipedes, so-called because, I
suppose, they have about a hundred legs. Their sting is poisonous, and
in some cases fatal; those that are very dark in color are much dreaded.
Then the scorpions! you find them everywhere, even between the leaves of
your books!
What narrow escapes I have had with snakes, scorpions, centipedes! I
wonder sometimes that I am alive to tell of the things I have seen. I
never used to lie down without looking for these creeping things. You
think, naturally, that a man's life must be miserable on that account.
Not at all; one gets accustomed to everything in the world. At last I
did not mind it at all, I got so used to doing this every day.
There were also many kinds of flies--called by the natives the mboco,
ntchoona, the eloway. The mosquitoes will often plague us. We shall meet
the terrible bashikonay ants. When they spread in the forest, they
attack every living animal. All flee before them--gorilla, leopard, and
elephant.
In that great forest are many tribes of men; some of them wear no
clothing whatever. These people worship idols, good and evil spirits;
dread witchcraft, and put to death all those who they think are wizards
or witches. They are constantly engaged in warfare against each other.
The most fierce looking of all are the cannibal tribes. How horrid they
look with their sharp-pointed teeth, which have been made so by being
filed! What magnificent-looking warriors they are! What brave hunters!
It was in their country that I shot my first gorilla.
The strangest people I discovered were the dwarfs or pygmies, a race of
people very diminutive in size. They looked so queer, especially the
white-headed old folks. None of their houses is more than three feet in
height. These pygmies, like the monkeys, lived chiefly on the fruits,
berries, and nuts of the forest; they never cultivated the soil. But
they knew the use of fire, knew how to trap game and cook their meat.
All these tribes thought Friend Paul was a Moguizic, a supernatural
being who had come from some part of the sky. Many believed that I had
descended from the moon, and that I came to see the world and its
inhabitants. They believed that I could do all kinds of supernatural
things, and in many tribes where guns were unknown they thought I held
thunder and lightning in my hands, and when I fired a gun they all fell
low on the ground.
Highways of communication and roads are unknown in this great dark
Africa. But there are numerous paths going in every direction, so the
traveller, if the natives are willing to guide him, can go from the west
coast to the east coast, and from the Cape of Good Hope to Egypt,
Morocco, and Algeria, or _vice versa_, for every village and tribe has
paths leading towards the other. Often the paths leading from one
village to another are very difficult to follow, for the jungle is so
rank; and often they are closed for months on account of wars among
different tribes.
Such paths you have never seen--narrow, just wide enough for a man to go
through the thick jungle. The branches of trees often join together.
Here a big tree has fallen across the path, and you must either bend
yourself to pass under it, or climb over it. If you cannot do either,
then you must go around it. You have to walk over the roots of trees
until your feet are sore. Sometimes then you fall in the midst of
sword-grass, or under the canelike bamboos or palms, or have to walk in
swamps filled with aloes. I still walk in a stooping manner, the result
of my being obliged to bend constantly under branches of trees, or under
fallen ones. Often a stream is your only path.
Day after day, my dear young folks, Friend Paul spent travelling in that
forest without hearing the chatter of a monkey or the shrill cry of a
parrot. The only noise he could hear was now and then the falling of a
leaf or the gentle murmur of a little stream wending its way towards
some big unknown river which he hoped some day to find.
I walked thousands and thousands of miles on foot under its shady trees.
The foliage was so thick that sometimes I was several weeks without
being able to see the sun, the moon, or the stars, for my eyes could not
penetrate the dense and thick leaves. How glad I was when I came to a
river or an open space, and could see once more the sun, the moon, and
the stars! I loved the stars, for without them and the moon I could not
have known where I was; they showed me the way all through my travels.
Not only had I to travel on foot, but everything I had to take with me
had to be carried on the backs of men, for no beasts of burden are to be
found in the big forest. There are no camels, no donkeys, no horses, no
oxen; and had I taken some with me they would have died of starvation,
for there were no pastures, and they could not have lived on the
different leaves of the trees or of the jungle. Besides, they could not
have gone through the narrow crooked path of the great forest.
Rain falls almost every night for hours, accompanied by such thunder and
lightning as you have never heard or seen in our country. The claps of
thunder are so terrific that often they made me jump from my bed of
leaves. The lightning at times is so vivid that it pierces the foliage
of the trees; and as to the heavy rain, it often falls like a solid
sheet of water for hours, and this happens almost every night for nine
months of the year. After the rainy season comes the dry season--cold,
for sometimes the thermometer falls to 66° Fahrenheit. I felt then this
low temperature very much. Not a drop of rain falls during the dry
season; but far in the interior, in the mountain regions, it rains
twelve months of the year, but during three months of that time no
thunder is heard.
If the men are strange, the beasts roaming in that great forest are
still more wonderful to behold. The huge elephant roams everywhere on
its rivers and lakes, the hippopotami are numerous in the sluggish
streams, and the lakes are filled with crocodiles of huge size. The
great gorilla, which I discovered, is the terror of the natives, and is
called by them the Giant of the Forest. The strong man of the woods
wanders continually in search of fruits, berries, and nuts. When night
comes he sleeps at the foot of a tree, while his wife, the female
gorilla, is sleeping on its branches. The gorilla never makes a shelter
or a house for himself. Those who describe them as making houses mislead
you. Friend Paul killed many of these gorillas, and was the first white
man who ever hunted them and saw them in their wild state.
Besides the gorilla, Friend Paul saw several other wonderful kinds of
man-like apes, also the common chimpanzee, called by the natives
nshiego. Then he discovered three new species or varieties of the
chimpanzee family, known to the natives under the names of
Nshiego-mbouve, apes with bald heads and black faces; the
Nshiego-nkengo, whose faces always remain yellow; and the Kooloo-kamba.
All these apes are very shy, and the hunter to approach them has to be
very wary.
Dear friends, we are to travel together in that great African forest. We
will carry no tents with us; we will build a new camp every day when we
are on the march, and we will protect ourselves from the rain by
building slanting roofs, covered with large leaves put on the top of
each other as we do with shingles, slates, or tiles at home. We will
protect ourselves from the wild beasts by burning all night large
fires--the wild beasts are afraid of fire. These fires will protect us
also from snakes and voracious ants.
When we cannot find game we will be hungry together, and, like the
monkeys, we will have to eat the wild berries, nuts, and fruits of the
forest. When we cannot find these we will starve together until
Providence comes to our rescue. At other times, when food is very scarce
and it becomes a matter of life and death, we will be obliged to eat
snakes, or sometimes leopards. When we have plenty, we will eat
elephants, hippopotami, crocodiles, buffalo, wild boar, antelope,
gazelles, and other animals. Often we will feast on monkeys--these at
certain times of the year are delicious. Then, when we get into regions
where no animals are to be seen, and fruits, nuts, and berries cannot be
found--then we will drink water, which will help us to keep body and
soul together. At times we will lie down under some big tree, ill with
fever or weak from starvation. Then we shall think of the sweet home
that is so far away, and wonder if we will ever return there again.
CAPTAIN HANK'S SUBSTITUTE.
Captain Hank of the Life-boat Patrol Service and Jack Hawley were old
friends. The Captain had been at the station near Jack's house for a
number of seasons, and when Jack first met him he was such a little chap
that the Captain called him "Shorty." Jack had grown, however, into a
strong hearty lad, and his one ambition was to get into the life-boat
service.
While they were talking one night in the station the sharp ring of the
telephone bell made all hands glance up anxiously. Captain Hank strode
over to the receiver.
"Hullo!--Yes, Captain Hank.--What is it? Tramp steamer ashore? Yes. How
many men do you want? Hullo! Yes. Full relief? All right--send them
immediately. Good-by.
"Boys, there's a tramp ashore at the lower station; want the full
relief. Trot along, and get back as soon as you can. There's a nasty sea
on to-night, and, with the wind right on shore, we might want you."
The men donned their oil-skins and boots, and trotted off down the beach
to the lower station, some five miles below. The Captain glanced at the
remaining men, enough to man the life-boat, with the man out on patrol.
"It's a fearful night out, boys," he said.
The words had hardly left his mouth when the door opened and the patrol
rushed in.
"Three-master ashore on the outer bar, Captain."
Like a flash every man was on his feet and into his oil-skins. Seizing
the gun-carriage, they rushed it out and down the plank runway to the
beach. Jack ran along with them, and strained his eyes as the Coston
signal-light lit up the raging sea and disclosed to view a large
three-master lying almost on her beam ends. There was a slight
phosphorescent glow where the mad seas, lashed into foam, broke about
her, sweeping the decks. Even as he looked two of her masts toppled and
fell with a crash. On the shrouds of the remaining one a dark group was
huddled.
Jack's heart thrilled with excitement and pity. Poor fellows! their
lives must be saved!
The life-saving crew were busy with the gun, and in a few minutes away
went the shot carrying a delicate line out to the wreck. It fell short
or the wind drove it back. Again and again they tried it, but without
success. The wind seemed to carry it to one side.
"It's no use, boys, trying to rig the breeches buoy," roared the
Captain; "we've got to man the life-boat, so get on your corks. I'll
telephone to the lower station to see if I can get any of the boys
back."
Jack longed to go in the boat, but he knew it was impossible, and,
sheltered behind it, he watched the black shadow on the bar, and hoped
they would be in time to save the lives out there. The wind was sweeping
and screaming with violent force, and the cold spray lashed the beach
with foam. Jack heard one of the men yell to his neighbor that the
Captain was a long while, and, thinking he could be of help, he ran back
to hurry him up.
As he entered the station a low groan greeted him. The Captain lay in
the middle of the floor, motionless. He had stumbled over some rope in
his hurry, and broken his arm.
"It's no use, Jack," he moaned; "I can't go out with this arm. We will
need the six oars in such a sea."
Jack paused. "Captain," he said, "they will launch the boat." And
catching a heavy oil-skin coat off a peg he rushed down to the beach.
The men stood waiting, looking out to sea. Without saying a word he
gripped the boat, and when the right breaker came he gruffly shouted,
"Now, men," as he had often heard the Captain, and with a strong heave
and all together they rushed the boat out into the surf and leaped
aboard.
Jack seized the steering-oar, and before the next wave could swamp them
they got a grip on the water and successfully mounted it. It was a
remarkable launch in such a sea, and promised success for their other
efforts.
They were going right into the teeth of the gale, and the crew rose to
the work. It was hard work, though. The wind beat them back, tearing at
their frail craft with fierce tugs, dashing the frozen spray over them
in sheets. To reach the wreck Jack had to keep off the wind a little,
and time and time again the boat's head would swing around, and his
heart would jump as the monstrous waves threatened to swamp her.
His hands were numb with cold and his face frozen with spray. The crew
bent over their oars. They knew nothing of the change of Captains, and
when they heard the gruff commands, they may have wondered at the
boyishness of the tones, but never dreamed who was steering the boat.
They were nearing the ship, and with admirable skill, in keeping with
his efforts from the start, Jack got up in the lee of the wreck,
directly under the shrouds to which the group was clinging. Slowly but
surely, one by one, the men scrambled down the rigging and, when a
favorable opportunity presented itself, leaped aboard.
There were five men, and as the last came aboard Jack did a neat bit of
steering that even the brave crew of the life-boat noticed and cheered.
They left the wreck, and with their backs to the mad wind, they bounded
over the roaring waves towards the shore.
Jack kept the boat directly in front of the storm, and as they neared
the surf his command rang out, "Steady!" And then a gigantic wave raised
them on its crest and, with a swirl and a roar, ran them upon the beach.
In a trice they ran the boat out of reach of the surf.
In the snug warmth of the station the crew started to cheer the dripping
Captain in his oil-skins; but when he took off the broad-brimmed hat
that hid his face and they saw Jack, they were mute. One of them rushed
to their Captain's bunk, and when he saw the helpless figure of the real
Captain lying there, he pointed to it and then to Jack.
HUBERT EARL.
UP IN A WATER-SPOUT.
ONE OF THE OLD SAILOR'S YARNS.
BY W. J. HENDERSON.
The Old Sailor sat on the end of the pier, but he was restless and ill
at ease. He looked often at the southwestern sky, where heavy blue-black
clouds were massing themselves in low and writhing shapes. He shook his
head solemnly, rose to his feet, and walked nervously up and down.
"This are the werry identical kind o' day it were," he muttered, "an' ef
we don't see some on 'em to-day, w'y, I'm a bloomin' marine, that's
wot."
"See some of what?" inquired a voice behind him; and turning, he saw the
two boys.
"Waal, waal, waal!" he exclaimed; "you two infants is a-gettin' 'most as
weatherwise as tree-frogs."
This exclamation was not unnatural, for the two boys were clad in long
sea-boots, oil-skins, and sou'westers.
"Ye look like a pair o' sunflowers," said the Old Sailor, with
admiration in his tone, "an' I reckon ye don't worry much about the rain
wot are a-comin'."
"No; I guess we will not get wet," said Henry, laughing.
"But s'posin'--now mind I don't go fur to say it'll happen--but s'posin'
ye was to go fur to come fur to git carried up aloft."
"What ever do you mean?" asked George.
"Look down yonder--quick!" exclaimed the Old Sailor, pointing to the
southern horizon.
The boys saw an immense blue-black cloud, from which hung down a great
dark cone. A similar cone, point upward, rose from the sea, and the two
were joined by a slender wavering black column.
"Oh, what is it?" cried George.
"I know," exclaimed Henry. "It's a water-spout."
"It's going out to sea," ejaculated George.
"Werry good; werry good indeed," said the Old Sailor, sagely; "it
sartainly are a-goin' out to sea. 'Cos w'y, it can't go on land, 'cos it
are a water-spout an' not a landspout, w'ich the same there ain't none,
'ceptin' them on the sides o' houses fur rain to go down, an' them
mostly leaks."
The three stood and watched the dreaded monster of the sea--a rare sight
indeed near shore--until it passed out of sight.
"It are gone," said the Old Sailor, "an' it 'ain't took nothin' with 't
'ceptin' wind an' water."
"Do they ever take anything else with them?" asked George.
"W'ich the same they do," answered the Old Sailor; "an' wot they takes
ain't never come back but oncet, as I knows on. I knowed we'd see some
on 'em to-day; 'cos w'y, this are the kind o' day wot breeds 'em, an' it
are the werry identical kind o' day wot it all happened on."
So saying, the Old Sailor sat down on the end of the pier, and the boys
seated themselves beside him.
"This 'ere yarn wot I'm a goin' fur to tell ye," began the Old Sailor,
"are a most ser'ous tale, an' I hopes as how 't won't go fur to give ye
no nightmare. I were fust mate o' the barkentine _Herrin' Bones_, bound
from Rio Janeiro to New York. She were a wall-sided hooker, with double
to'-gallants, an' a werry disrepitable habit o' goin' to leeward."
"What was her cargo?" asked George.
"I allers tells ye wot the cargo were, my son, but this 'ere wessel
didn't have no cargo; she were flyin' light, an' preehaps 'twould 'a'
bin better ef she'd had more ballast aboard. Her Cap'n were Gawge W.
Smoke, an' her second mate were a long-legged feller from New Orleans,
named Pierre Crust, an' a werry crusty Pierre he were too. Waal, to git
right down to the business part o' this 'ere yarn wot I'm a-tellin' ye,
I'll say that we didn't have nothin' but fair weather an' good
to'-gallant breezes till we got right up atwixt St. Thomas an' Bermooda,
an' then it rained an' blowed squalls an' thunder-storms fur two days
an' nights all round the compass. Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, sez he to me,
sez he, 'It ain't no fittin' weather fur to be buggaluggin' round here.'
An' sez I to he, sez I, 'It ain't, but here we be, an' we can't fly
away,' sez I, jess like that, him bein' Cap'n an' me fust mate, an' the
barkentine bein' the _Herrin' Bones_. But ef I'd knowed wot were
a-comin', I'd never said nothin'.
"Waal, them squalls an' thunder-storms kep' a-gettin' thicker an'
blacker, till byme-by the hull sky all round were jess like it were down
yonder a leetle while ago. An' Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke he allowed that we'd
best stand by fur water-spouts. Sure 'nuff, 'twere jess about six bells
in the forenoon watch o' the second day o' this 'ere cantankerous
weather, w'en the lookout sung out, 'Water-spout on the weather bow!'
'Fore we had time to look at it another hand sighted one on the lee bow,
an' some one else seed one on the weather-quarter. In less 'n five
minutes we sighted seven on 'em to wind'ard an' six to leeward, makin'
thirteen, w'ich the same that are a werry unlucky number.
"Waal, we clapped on a leetle more sail, hopin' fur to run out o' this
'ere convention o' water-spouts. But, bless ye! ye might as well 'a'
tried to git away from a express train by runnin' down the track ahead
o't. They was comin' down on us at a powerful gait. W'en the biggest one
were about half a mile away, we could see it whirlin' round an' round
like a big wheel, an' it roared like Niagarer Falls, w'ich the same ye
'ain't never seed, but ye see pictures of 'em in your geoggerfy. Pierre
Crust, our second mate, he got so skeered he jess went an' hid his head
under a deck bucket. Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke he give orders to clew up the
to'-gallants, so's to stop the vessel, hopin' that the spout'd pass
ahead on us. But, bless ye! the bloomin', bleedin', blasted thing turned
out of its course, an' kep' a-comin' right fur us.
"'We're bound for Davy Jones's locker,' sez Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, sez
he. 'It are a-goin' to break right on top o' us.'
"'Werry good, sir,' sez I. 'Axin' your parmission, I'll put on a
life-persarver.'
"''Twon't do ye no good,' sez he. 'W'en she breaks on us she'll drive us
twenty fathom down. Here it comes! Stan' by, all hands, to go under
hatches.'
"Roarin' like a thunder-storm, an' loomin' over us like a iceberg turned
black, the water-spout come to the barkentine. We all shut our eyes, an'
held our breath, an' waited to be buried under a million tons o' water.
But may I never live to see lobscouse agin ef the bloomin' thing busted
at all! We felt the ship give a lurch an' a jump, an' then she started
off at the rate o' thirty knots an hour.
"'Wot are it?' yelled the Cap'n.
"'The water-spout!' I yells back. 'She's picked us up!'"
The Old Sailor paused to gaze around the horizon, and the two boys gazed
at one another in breathless amazement. In a moment their remarkable
friend resumed his narrative.
"It weren't no sort o' pickle fur a decent old barkentine to be in, an'
the _Herrin' Bones_ knowed it, but there she were. She were a-sailin'
round and round like a chicken with its head off. Her keel were in the
water o' the spout, an' her masts was a-stickin' out sideways like
toothpicks out o' old Bill Smorkey's mouth arter dinner. W'y, blow me
fur a farmer ef I don't b'lieve she'd 'a' fell off the bloomin' thing
sideways ef it hadn't bin that the wind wot the spout made a-goin' round
filled the sail she had spread, an' so kep' her up.
"'Clew up the foretops'l!' hollered Pierre Crust.
"'Let it alone,' sez Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, sez he. 'D'ye want to fall
off this 'ere marine buzz-saw an' git drownded?'
"'Stop the ship; we're out o' our course,' sez Tobias Kitten, the
carpenter, w'ich the same he ort to bin a tailor, 'cos w'y, he didn't
know no more about a ship nor a feller wot sits cross-legged onto a
table an' mends pants fur a livin'.
"'Out o' our course!' sez the Cap'n, sez he. 'I wish the bloomin'
water-spout were out o't.'
"All hands was a-layin' flat on deck, with our feet agin' the lee
rail--leastways it ort to bin the lee rail, 'cos it were the one wot
were down, but it weren't, 'cos the wind were blowin' up, an' things was
ginerally goin' back end fust, like a Chinese junk in a head-sea.
"'D'ye think she'd right herself ef we cut away the masts?' Cap'n Gawge
W. Smoke sez he to me.
"'Mebbe she would,' sez I to he; 'but ef she did we'd have water on top
o' us, an' then good-by.'
"'Then I'm blowed ef I know wot to do with her,' sez he to me, sez he.
An' me not knowin' wot to say back, I didn't say nothin', but hung on
with both hands.
"'Oh my! oh my!' sez Pierre Crust; 'we're a-goin' up this 'ere dreadful
thing. Look down!'
"An', sure 'nuff, w'en I looked over the side I seed a ship away down
below us on the sea, an' her Cap'n were a-lookin' at us through a
telescup, he were.
"'Salt me down fur a mackerel,' sez Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, 'ef ever I
thought that any ship o' mine would go fur to turn herself into a
bloomin' balloon!'
"All the time we was a-sailin' round an' round the spout like it was a
corkscrew worked by steam, an' we was a-goin' up an' up.
"'I wonder ef there's water 'nuff up there to float the old hooker?' sez
Pierre Crust.
"'Waal,' sez Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, 'she can't go aground in the clouds,
anyhow, an' there ain't no rocks either.'
"'Waal,' sez I to he, sez I, 'w'ere d'ye think she will go?'
"An' he jess looks at me fur a minute, an' then sez he, 'Preehaps you'd
like to get out a chart an' figger out yer position,' sez he to me, him
bein' Cap'n an' me fust mate.
"All this time the _Herrin' Bones_ were a-sailin' around an' around the
bloomin' water-spout an' goin' up an' up. Now you know, 'cos you jess
seed a werry short time ago, that them water-spouts widens out at the
top till they just spreads right out into the flat clouds. Waal, we all
commenced fur to wonder wot'd happen to us ef the _Herrin' Bones_ kep'
on a-goin' up. Putty soon she beginned fur to lean over so that her deck
weren't no safe place to stay on, an' then Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke he
orders all han's fur to go b'low.
[Illustration: THE PRECARIOUS POSITION OF THE "HERRIN' BONES."]
"'Might as well go to the clouds comf'table,' sez he. We all went b'low
an' shut all the hatches. Then there weren't nothin' to do 'ceptin' fur
to wait developments, as the old hen said w'en she sot down on the
duck's egg. Byme-by the bark were hove over so fur that we was all
a-settin' on her side, with the decks risin' up like walls on both sides
of us. We could hear the ballast tumblin' over itself down in the hold,
an' our stores was mixed up into the werry wust sea-salad wot any one
ever seed.
"'Oh my! oh my!' sez Pierre Crust, sez he, hidin' his head in a
cracker-box, 'we're a-goin' to fall out o' the clouds upside down an' be
all smashed up.'
"He were a werry ostridge sort o' man, he were, 'cos he allers thort as
how he were out o' danger ef he had his measly old head hid. Howsumever,
we all thort putty much the same as he did, an' we weren't in no
partikler humor fur to dance hornpipes about it.
"'She's a gittin' furder over!' yelled Tobias Kitten.
"An' so she were. We couldn't stay on the sides o' her any more, but had
to sit down on the under sides o' the decks--wot shore-folks would call
the ceilin'. An' the furniture in the cabin, bein' screwed fast, were
all a-hangin' down from overhead.
"'Waal, may I be squilgeed inside an' out with a paint brush,' sez Cap'n
Gawge W. Smoke, sez he, 'ef ever I expected fur to be master o' any
wessel wot were so undecent as to sail on her head.'
"'Tobias Kitten,' sez I, 'slide back the hatch an inch an' tell us what
ye can see.'
"An' Tobias he laid down flat on his face, slid the hatch back, and
peaked out. Then he shut it with a bang, an' turned paler'n he were
afore.
"'S'help me gracious goodness!' sez he; 'yo can't see nothin' 'cept
white steam.'
"Then we knowed we was up in the clouds fur sure, an' we all felt putty
ser'ous; 'cos w'y, w'd never bin there afore, an' we didn't know nothin
about the rules an' regulations o' livin' up there. All on a suddent
there were a most fearful crash o' thunder.
"'By the great hook block!' sez Cap'n Gawge W. Smoke, sez he, 'we're in
a thunder-cloud.'
"'An' mebbe w'en it begins for to rain,' sez I, 'we'll git rained down
to 'arth agin.'
"'Oh my! Oh my!' hollered Pierre Crust, out o' the cracker-box. 'On our
heads! Oh dear! We're all dead men, sure.'
"Waal, arter that fur half an hour it were not possible fur to carry on
any werry improvin' conwersation, 'cos w'y, it were a-thunderin' an'
a-lightnin' an' a-roarin' all around us, sech as no one never heerd
afore. Then all on a suddent the bloomin' deck dropped right from under
us, an' we was kinder floatin' around, a-grabbin' right an' left at
things, all 'ceptin' Pierre Crust, an' he jess kep' his head in the
cracker-box an' kicked out with his feet.
"'We're a-fallin'! We're a-fallin'!' he yelled.
"An' so we wuz. An' w'ile we wuz a-fallin' I seed the side o' the wessel
come under me, an' then slide around till the floor o' the cabin were
under me, an' then--boom! There were a most awful thump, an' a squash
like wot ye hear w'en yo throw a stone into a mud-puddle, an' there we
was."
"Where?" cried both boys.
"In the blessed Atlantic Ocean," said the Old Sailor, solemnly, "about a
hundred miles this side o' Bermooda. An' Pierre Crust he pulled his head
out o' the cracker-box an' bounced on deck, an' sez he:
"'Wot was all you men so scared about? Turn to, now, an' get the cloth
on her, an' we'll make Sandy Hook Light-ship in two days.'
"An' so we did, too. An' w'en we got to New York we read in the papers
as how the Cap'n o' the ship _Beeswax_ had seen a cur'ous mirage of a
ship sailin' round an' round a water-spout. But we never could get
nobody to b'lieve as how 'twere us."
IN THE OLD HERRICK HOUSE.
BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.