MY FIRST JOURNEY ALONE
Well! I didn't travel entirely alone, either, you must know; for, you
see, I had Karsten with me. But he was only nine years old that summer,
so that it was about the same or even worse than traveling alone. To
make a journey with small children by steamer isn't altogether
comfortable, as any grown person will tell you.
It is curious how tedious everything gets at home in your own town when
you have decided to make a journey. Whatever it might be that the boys
and girls wanted to play--whether it was playing ball in the town
square, or hide-and-go-seek in our cellar, or caravans in the desert up
on the hilltop, or frightening old Miss Einarsen by knocking on her
window (which is generally great fun)--it all seemed stupid and
tiresome beyond description now.
For I was going to travel, going on a journey, and that is the jolliest,
jolliest fun! Alas! for the poor stay-at-homes who couldn't go away but
had to walk about the same old town streets, and smell street dust, and
gutters, and stale sea-water in by the wharves.
But I have clean forgotten to tell you where I was going. Mother has a
sister who is married to a minister. They live fifteen or twenty miles
from our town and we go there every summer. But this summer, it had been
decided that Karsten and I should go there alone for the first time.
The afternoon before we were to set out I went down back of our
wood-shed, where all the boys and girls that I go with generally come
every afternoon. It was hot enough to roast you and awfully dry and
dusty; but I took my new umbrella down with me all the same. It wasn't
really silk, but I had wound it and fastened it so tightly together that
it looked just as slender and delicate as a real silk one. I wouldn't
play ball with the rest of them. I just stood and swung my umbrella
about.
"Have you got a new umbrella?" said Karen. "Is it a silk one?" asked
Netta. "You've got eyes in your head," I answered. And so they all
thought it was a silk one. I couldn't play ball with them, I said,
because I had to go in and pack. Now that wasn't true at all, for I knew
well enough that Mother had done all the packing; but it sounded so
off-hand and important. They all teased me to stay down with them for a
while, but no indeed, far from it. "I have too much to do. I start
to-morrow morning early. Good-bye."
"Good-bye and a happy journey," shouted the company.
When I got in the house I was a little sorry that I hadn't stayed out
with the others; for I hadn't a thing to do but go from one room to
another and tighten the shawl-straps for the twentieth time at least. I
thought the afternoon would never come to an end.
Early in the morning, before it was really light, the maid came into the
room and shook me and whispered, "Now you must get up. It's half-past
four o'clock. Get up! The steamer goes at half-past five, you know." Oh,
how dreadfully sleepy I was, but it was great fun all the same. The sun
was not shining into my room yet, but on the church tower it glowed like
a fire. The weather was going to be good. Hurrah! All the doors and
windows of the sleeping-rooms stood wide open. It was so sweet and fresh
and quiet everywhere, fragrant with the smell of the trees and fresh
garden earth outside. We went in to say good-bye to Father and Mother at
their bedside.
"Remember us to everybody and be nice, good children," said Mother.
"Don't lose everything you have with you," said Father. Humph!
_Lose_--Father seemed to forget that I was nearly grown up now.
As we went down the hill, the stones under the elm-trees were still all
moist with dew. Oh! how quiet it was out-of-doors! Suddenly away down
in the town a cock crew. Everything seemed very strange.
Karsten and I ran ahead and Ingeborg, the maid, came struggling after us
with our big green _tine_.[1] Suddenly a desperate anxiety came over me.
Suppose the steamboat should go off and leave us! Then how we ran! We
left Ingeborg and the _tine_ and everything else behind. When we turned
round the corner into the market square, the sun streamed straight into
our eyes and there by the custom-house wharf lay the steamboat, with
steam up and sacks of meal being put on board. Karsten and I dashed
across the square. Pshaw! we were in plenty of time. There wasn't a
single passenger aboard yet. It is a little steamboat, you know, that
only goes from our town over to Arendal. I got Karsten settled on a
seat, kneeling and facing the water, and then established myself in a
jaunty, free and easy manner by the railing as if I were accustomed to
travel. Ole Bugta and Kristen Snau and all the other clodhoppers on the
wharf should never imagine that this was the first time I had been
aboard a steamboat.
[Footnote 1: Tine (pronounced tee´ne) a covered wooden box with handle
on top.]
Soon that skin-and-bone Andersen, the storekeeper, got on the boat, and
then came little Magnus, the telegraph messenger, jogging along. Magnus
is really a dwarf. He is forty years old and doesn't reach any higher
than my shoulder; but he has an exceedingly large old face. He clambered
up on a bench. He has such short legs that when he sits down his legs
stick straight out into the air, just as tiny little children's do when
they sit down. Then came Mrs. Tellefsen, in a French shawl, and
dreadfully warm and worried. "When the whistle blew the first time, I
was still in my night-clothes," she confided to me.
The whistle blew the third time. I smiled condescendingly down to
Ingeborg, our maid, who stood upon the wharf. I wouldn't for a good deal
be in her shoes and have to turn back and go home again now. Far up the
street appeared a man and woman shouting and calling for us to wait for
them. "Hurry up! Hurry up!" shouted the captain. That was easier said
than done; for when they came nearer I saw that it was that queer Mr.
Singdahlsen and his mother. Mr. Singdahlsen is not right in his mind and
he thinks that his legs are grown together as far down as his knees. So
he doesn't move any part of his legs in walking except the part below
his knees. Of course he couldn't go very fast. His mother pushed and
pulled him along, the captain shouted, and at last they came over the
gangway and the steamboat started.
The water was as smooth and shining as a mirror, and it seemed almost a
sin to have the steamboat go through it and break the mirror. Over at
the Point the tiny red and yellow houses shone brightly in the morning
light and the smoke from their chimneys rose high in the quiet air.
Then my troubles with Karsten began. Yes, I entirely agree that children
are a nuisance to travel with. In the first place, Karsten wanted to
stand forever and look down into the machinery room. I held on to him by
the jacket, and threatened him and told him to come away. Far from it!
He was as stubborn as a mule. Humph! a great thing it would have been if
he had fallen down between the shining steel arms of the machinery and
been crushed! O dear me! At last he had had enough of that. Then he
began to open and shut the door which led into the deck cabin; back and
forth, back and forth, bang it went!
"Let that be, little boy," said Mr. Singdahlsen. Karsten flushed very
red and sat still for five whole minutes. Then it came into his head
that he absolutely must see the propeller under the back of the boat.
That was worse than ever, for he hung the whole upper part of his body
over the railing. I held fast to him till my fingers ached. For a minute
I was so provoked with him that I had a good mind to let go of him and
let him take care of himself;--but I thought of Mother, and so kept
tight hold of him.
We went past the lighthouse out on Green Island. The watchman came out
on his tiny yellow balcony and hailed us. I swung my umbrella. "Hurrah,
my boys," shouted Mr. Singdahlsen in English. "Hurrah, my boys,"
imitated Karsten after him. Little Magnus dumped himself down from the
seat and waved his hat; but he stood behind me and nobody saw him. It
was really a pretty queer lot of travelers.
Just then the mate came around to sell the tickets. Father had given me
a five-crown note for our traveling expenses. As Karsten and I were
children and went for half-price, I didn't need any more, he said. So
there I stood ready to pay.
"How old are you?" asked the mate.
Now I have always heard that it is impolite to question a lady about her
age; I must say I hadn't a speck of a notion of telling that sharp-nosed
mate that I lacked seven months of being twelve years old.
"How old are you?" he asked again.
"Twelve years," said I hastily.
"Well, then you must pay full fare."
I don't know how I looked outside at that minute. I know that inside of
me I was utterly aghast. Suppose I didn't have money enough! And I had
told a lie!
Now my purse is a little bit of a thing, hardly big enough for you to
get three fingers in. I took it out rather hurriedly--everything that I
undertake always goes with a rush, Mother says. How it happened I don't
know, but my five-crown note whisked out of my hand, over the railing
and out to sea.
"Catch it! Catch it!" I shouted.
"That is impossible," said the mate.
"Yes, yes! Put out a boat!" I cried. All the passengers crowded together
around us.
"Did the five crowns blow away?" piped Karsten.
"Was it, perhaps, the only one you had?" asked the mate. Ugh! how horrid
he was. Storekeeper Andersen and Mrs. Tellefsen and the mate laughed as
hard as they could. Karsten pulled at my waterproof.
"You're a good one! Now they will put us ashore because we haven't any
money. You always do something like that!"
"Are you going to put us ashore?" I asked.
"Oh, no," said the mate. "I will go up to your father's office and get
the money some time. That's all right."
Pshaw! that would be worse than anything else. Father would be raving.
He always says I lose everything.
"You'll catch it from Father," whispered Karsten.
Oh, what should I do! What should I do! Karsten and Mr. Singdahlsen
clambered up on some rigging away aft to get sight of the five-crown
note. Mr. Singdahlsen peered through the hollow of his hand and both he
and Karsten insisted that they saw it. But that couldn't help us any.
Oh! how disgusting everything had become all at once. The visit at
Uncle's and Aunt's would be horrid, too. To go there alone in this way,
and have to talk alone with Uncle, a minister, and all the other
grown-up people at the rectory--it would be disgustingly tiresome. There
was nothing that was any fun in the whole world. It would be disgusting
to go home again; for Father would be so dreadfully angry--and it was
most disgusting of all to be here on the steamboat where everybody
laughed at me.
And all on account of an old rag of a five-crown bill which had blown
away. Besides, I had told a lie and said I was twelve years old.
Oh-oh-oh! how sad everything was!
I sat with my hand under my cheek, leaning against the railing and
staring into the sea. All at once a plan occurred to me which I thought
a remarkably good one then. Now I think it was frightfully stupid. I
would ask the mate if he wouldn't take something of mine as payment for
our passage.
I had a little silver ring--one of those with a tiny heart hanging to
it;--I thought of that first. I took it off of my finger and looked at
it. It was really a tiny little bit of a thing--it couldn't be worth so
very much. At home I had a pair of skates, sure enough. I would
willingly sell them. But I couldn't possibly ask the mate to go up into
our attic and get them and sell them for me. What in the world should I
give him? Suddenly a brilliant idea struck me. My new umbrella--he
should have my new umbrella. And I would tell the mate at the same time
that I had made a mistake, that I wasn't twelve years old, only eleven
years and five months. I took the umbrella and went quickly across the
deck to find the mate. To be on the safe side I took the ring off of my
finger and held it in my hand. It might be he would want both ring and
umbrella. But it was impossible to find him. I wandered fore and aft and
peeked into all the hatchways--but I couldn't get a glimpse of that
sharp nose of his anywhere. Finally I discovered him sitting in a little
cabin, writing.
I established myself in the doorway and swung my umbrella. To save my
life I couldn't get out a single word of what I had planned to say.
Think of having to say "I told you a lie!"
"Do you want anything?" asked the mate at last.
"Oh, no!" I said hastily. "Well, yes. How far is it to Sand Island now?"
"An hour's sail, about;"--at the very minute that he was speaking these
words a terrible shriek was heard from aft, a loud shriek from several
people all screaming as hard as they could. I never was so scared in my
whole life. The mate almost pushed me over, he sprang so quickly out of
the door. All the people aft were crowded at one side. In the midst of
the shrieks and cries I heard some one say, "Man overboard!"
O horrors! It must be Karsten! I was sure of it. I hadn't thought of him
or taken any care of him for the last ten minutes. I hardly know how I
got aft, my knees were shaking so. The steamboat stopped and two sailors
were already up on the railing loosing the life-boat.
"Karsten! Karsten! Karsten!" I cried. All at once I saw Karsten's light
hair and big ears over on a bench. He was throwing his arms about in the
air and was frightfully excited. "This is the way he did," shouted he;
"he hung over the railing this way, looking for the five crowns."--It
was Mr. Singdahlsen who had fallen overboard. Oh, poor Mrs. Singdahlsen!
She cried and called out unceasingly.
"He is weak in the understanding!" she cried, "and therefore the Lord
gave me sense enough for two--so that I could look after him;--catch
him--catch him. He will drown before my very eyes."
I held Karsten by the jacket as in a vise. I was going to look after him
now. The boat was by this time close to Mr. Singdahlsen. They drew his
long figure out of the water and laid him in the bottom of the boat. The
next minute they had reached the side of the steamer again, clambered
up with Singdahlsen, and laid him on the deck. He looked exactly as if
he were dead. They stripped him to his waist, and then they began to
work over him according to the directions in the almanac for restoring
drowned people. If I live to be a million years old I shall never forget
that scene.
There lay the long, thin, half-naked Singdahlsen on the deck, with two
sailors lifting his arms up and down, Mrs. Singdahlsen on her knees by
his side drying his face with a red pocket-handkerchief, the sun shining
baking hot on the deck, and the smoke of the steamer floating out far
behind us in a big thick streak. At length he showed signs of life and
they carried him into the cabin. Then, what do you suppose happened?
Mrs. Singdahlsen was angry at _me_! Wasn't that outrageous? The whole
thing was my fault, she said, for if I hadn't lost the five crowns, her
son wouldn't have fallen overboard.
"Now you can pay for the doctor and the apothecary, and for my anxiety
and fright besides," said Mrs. Singdahlsen. But everybody laughed and
said I needn't worry myself about that.
"You said yourself that you had sense enough for two, Mrs. Singdahlsen,"
said Storekeeper Andersen.
"I haven't met any one here who has any more sense," said Mrs.
Singdahlsen stuffily.
"Humph!" thought I to myself, "if I had to pay for Mrs. Singdahlsen's
fright the damages would be pretty heavy."
Just then we swung round the point by the rectory, where Karsten and I
were going to land. Uncle's hired boy was waiting for us with a boat. I
recognized him from the year before. He is a regular landlubber, brought
up away back in a mountain valley, and is mortally afraid when he has to
row out to the steamboat. His face was deep red, and he made such hard
work of rowing and backing water, and came up to the steamboat so
awkwardly, that the captain scolded and blustered from the bridge. At
last we got down into the rowboat and were left rocking and rocking in
the steamer's wake.
John, the farm boy, mopped his face and neck. He was all used up just
from getting a rowboat alongside the steamer!
"Whew, whew! but it's dreadful work," said he.
The rectory harbor lay like a mirror. The island and trees and the
bath-house stood on their heads in the clear, glassy water; and between
the thick foliage of the trees there was a wide space through which we
could see the upper story of the rectory and the top of the flagstaff.
It is worth while to go traveling after all. I won't give another
thought to that old rag of a five-crown bill.