When I awoke next morning it was blowing hard, and the timbers of the
schooner were groaning and creaking so dismally, that when every now and
then a wave struck the bows, Esau turned to me and shook his head, "Next
big one as comes 'll knock her all to pieces."
We did not care much for our breakfast, for more than one reason, and
were glad to get on deck, where we found Gunson talking with the
skipper, or I should say Gunson talking, and the old captain rolling an
eye, or giving a short nod now and then. Away to our right lay the
coast of California, with its pale-coloured bare-looking cliffs
appearing anything but attractive; and as we tossed about in the little
schooner, I could not help thinking how different it was to the great
clipper-ship in which we had sailed round the Horn.
We were soon glad to go below again, and there, as Esau could not get at
his chest, which was down in the hold, he was glad to accept the loan of
a blue jersey from one of the sailors, so as to set Gunson's jacket at
liberty.
It was almost a repetition of our experience in the _Albatross_ for some
days, only in this case we could have gone on deck at any time; but
there was no temptation to do so, for it meant holding on by the side,
and being soaked by the spray which kept on flying aboard.
During those days Esau passed the greater part of his time lying down,
and about once an hour he got into the habit of lifting his head, and
looking at me fixedly.
"I say," he would begin.
"Yes?"
"Don't think I shall take to sailoring;" and I agreed with him that
other lines would be pleasanter.
It was not that we were so very cowardly, for the sailors we spoke to
all agreed that it was one of the worst trips they had ever had along
the coast; and we afterwards heard that the skipper had been very
anxious more than once. But there is always an end to bad weather; and
the morning came when I went on deck to find sky and sea of a lovely
blue, and away to my right a glorious green land, with swelling hills,
forests of pines, and beyond them, dazzlingly white in the bright
sunshine, the tops of two snow-capped mountains.
As I leaned aft, gazing at the beautiful land, my spirits began to grow
brighter, and I was turning round to go down and fetch Esau to come and
see the place, when I found that Gunson had come on deck too, and was
looking at me in his peculiar manner which always repelled me.
"Is that British Columbia?" I said, to break an awkward silence, for he
stood perfectly silent, fixing me with that one piercing eye.
"No, not yet--that's Yankee-land still. We've got to get into the
Straits yet before we can see our country."
"Straits--Gibraltar?" I said thoughtlessly; and then I felt red in the
face at my stupidity.
"Not exactly, my lad," he said, laughing. "Why, my geography is better
than yours. The straits we go through are those of Juan de Fuca, the
old sailor who discovered them. But from what I know of it, the country
is very much the same as this. Think it will do for you?"
"It is lovely," I cried, enthusiastically.
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, and speaking in a quiet soft way that
seemed to be very different from his appearance; "a lovely land--a land
of promise. I hope your people will all get up yonder safe and sound.
It is a long, weary task they have before them."
"Can't be worse than ours has been," I said.
"Well, no, I suppose not; but very trying to those poor women. Look
here, my lad," he said, after a pause, "how are you going to manage when
you get ashore at Victoria?"
"Start at once for Fort Elk."
"How?"
"Get somebody who knows the way to tell us, and then walk on a few miles
every day. It can't be very difficult to find if we keep along the
river bank."
"Along the towing-path, eh?"
"Yes, if there is one," I said, eagerly.
"Towing-path! Why, you young innocent," he cried, angrily, "don't you
know that it's a fierce wild mountain-torrent, running through canons,
and in deep mountain valleys, with vast forests wherever trees can grow,
all packed closely together--sometimes so close that you can hardly
force your way through?"
"I did not know it was like that," I said; "but we must make the best of
it, I suppose. If we can't go twenty miles a day we must go fifteen."
"Or ten, or five, or one," he cried, with a contemptuous laugh. "Why,
Mayne, my lad, that last will often be the extent of your journey."