THE MURPHIES
Dozing in our canoe the next morning about daybreak, we were awakened
by Zeke’s hailing us loudly from the beach.
Upon paddling up, he told us that a canoe had arrived overnight, from
Papeetee, with an order from a ship lying there for a supply of his
potatoes; and as they must be on board the vessel by noon, he wanted us
to assist in bringing them down to his sail-boat.
My long comrade was one of those who, from always thrusting forth the
wrong foot foremost when they rise, or committing some other
indiscretion of the limbs, are more or less crabbed or sullen before
breakfast. It was in vain, therefore, that the Yankee deplored the
urgency of the case which obliged him to call us up thus early:—the
doctor only looked the more glum, and said nothing in reply.
At last, by way of getting up a little enthusiasm for the occasion, the
Yankee exclaimed quite spiritedly, “What d’ye say, then, b’ys, shall we
get at it?”
“Yes, in the devil’s name!” replied the doctor, like a snapping turtle;
and we moved on to the house. Notwithstanding his ungracious answer, he
probably thought that, after the gastronomic performance of the day
previous, it would hardly do to hang back. At the house, we found
Shorty ready with the hoes; and we at once repaired to the farther side
of the inclosure, where the potatoes had yet to be taken out of the
ground.
The rich, tawny soil seemed specially adapted to the crop; the great
yellow murphies rolling out of the hills like eggs from a nest.
My comrade really surprised me by the zeal with which he applied
himself to his hoe. For my own part, exhilarated by the cool breath of
the morning, I worked away like a good fellow. As for Zeke and the
Cockney, they seemed mightily pleased at this evidence of our
willingness to exert ourselves.
It was not long ere all the potatoes were turned out; and then came the
worst of it: they were to be lugged down to the beach, a distance of at
least a quarter of a mile. And there being no such thing as a barrow,
or cart, on the island, there was nothing for it but spinal-marrows and
broad shoulders. Well knowing that this part of the business would be
anything but agreeable, Zeke did his best to put as encouraging a face
upon it as possible; and giving us no time to indulge in desponding
thoughts, gleefully directed our attention to a pile of rude
baskets—made of stout stalks—which had been provided for the occasion.
So, without more ado, we helped ourselves from the heap: and soon we
were all four staggering along under our loads.
The first trip down, we arrived at the beach together: Zeke’s
enthusiastic cries proving irresistible. A trip or two more, however,
and my shoulders began to grate in their sockets; while the doctor’s
tall figure acquired an obvious stoop. Presently, we both threw down
our baskets, protesting we could stand it no longer. But our employers,
bent, as it were, upon getting the work out of us by a silent appeal to
our moral sense, toiled away without pretending to notice us. It was as
much as to say, “There, men, we’ve been boarding and lodging ye for the
last three days; and yesterday ye did nothing earthly but eat; so stand
by now, and look at us working, if ye dare.” Thus driven to it, then,
we resumed our employment. Yet, in spite of all we could do, we lagged
behind Zeke and Shorty, who, breathing hard, and perspiring at every
pore, toiled away without pause or cessation. I almost wickedly wished
that they would load themselves down with one potato too many.
Gasping as I was with my own hamper, I could not, for the life of me,
help laughing at Long Ghost. There he went:—his long neck thrust
forward, his arms twisted behind him to form a shelf for his basket to
rest on; and his stilts of legs every once in a while giving way under
him, as if his knee-joints slipped either way.
“There! I carry no more!” he exclaimed all at once, flinging his
potatoes into the boat, where the Yankee was just then stowing them
away.
“Oh, then,” said Zeke, quite briskly, “I guess you and Paul had better
try the ‘barrel-machine’—come along, I’ll fix ye out in no time”; and,
so saying, he waded ashore, and hurried back to the house, bidding us
follow.
Wondering what upon earth the “barrel-machine” could be, and rather
suspicious of it, we limped after. On arriving at the house, we found
him getting ready a sort of sedan-chair. It was nothing more than an
old barrel suspended by a rope from the middle of a stout oar. Quite an
ingenious contrivance of the Yankee’s; and his proposed arrangement
with regard to mine and the doctor’s shoulders was equally so.
“There now!” said he, when everything was ready, “there’s no
back-breaking about this; you can stand right up under it, you see:
jist try it once”; and he politely rested the blade of the oar on my
comrade’s right shoulder, and the other end on mine, leaving the barrel
between us.
“Jist the thing!” he added, standing off admiringly, while we remained
in this interesting attitude.
There was no help for us; with broken hearts and backs we trudged back
to the field; the doctor all the while saying masses.
Upon starting with the loaded barrel, for a few paces we got along
pretty well, and were constrained to think the idea not a bad one. But
we did not long think so. In less than five minutes we came to a dead
halt, the springing and buckling of the clumsy oar being almost
unendurable.
“Let’s shift ends,” cried the doctor, who did not relish the blade of
the stick, which was cutting into the blade of his shoulder.
At last, by stages short and frequent, we managed to shamble down the
beach, where we again dumped our cargo, in something of a pet.
“Why not make the natives help?” asked Long Ghost, rubbing his
shoulder.
“Natives be dumned!” said the Yankee, “twenty on ’em ain’t worth one
white man. They never was meant to work any, them chaps; and they knows
it, too, for dumned little work any on ’em ever does.”
But, notwithstanding this abuse, Zeke was at last obliged to press a
few of the bipeds into service. “Aramai!” (come here) he shouted to
several, who, reclining on a bank, had hitherto been critical observers
of our proceedings; and, among other things, had been particularly
amused by the performance with the sedan-chair.
After making these fellows load their baskets together, the Yankee
filled his own, and then drove them before him down to the beach.
Probably he had seen the herds of panniered mules driven in this way by
mounted Indians along the great Callao to Lima. The boat at last
loaded, the Yankee, taking with him a couple of natives, at once
hoisted sail, and stood across the channel for Papeetee.
The next morning at breakfast, old Tonoi ran in, and told us that the
voyagers were returning. We hurried down to the beach, and saw the boat
gliding toward us, with a dozing islander at the helm, and Zeke
standing up in the bows, jingling a small bag of silver, the proceeds
of his cargo.