CHAPTER VII

SHIP AND CREW

The promised packet of letters was delivered to me at the Plow shortly

after dark, by the man who had served coffee at the Colonel's. It was

accompanied by a note in which Mr. Burr pleaded pressing business as an

excuse for not delivering the packet in person. To this he had added a

postscript empowering me to break the seal of the packet upon my arrival

at St. Louis.

It struck me as most odd that the packet should have been sealed at all.

But upon reflection, I concluded that this was a very proper precaution

against a chance inspection of the contents by prying busy-bodies who

should happen to handle the packet. The letters might well contain

statements open to misconstruction by the Colonel's numerous and

powerful enemies, or details of plans, publicity of which, owing to the

necessity of secrecy, might disconcert the progress of the great

project. The instruction to me to open the packet upon my arrival

prevented any questioning of the Colonel's confidence in myself.

Thanks to a large hostler-fee, my horse came from the stable after his

day of rest as fresh as when we left Washington, and hardened by the

trip. He had need for all the endurance within his nature. Before dawn

his hoofs were clattering across the great new bridge over the

Schuylkill.

In the dense night of the bridge's enclosed roof and sides, it was like

riding through a hall of vast length, with no guidance other than the

faint starlight at the far end. The thought struck me that this was apt

symbol of my love-quest. The darkness was as the night of my lady's

fathomless eyes, through which in the uncertain distance I could no more

than fancy a dim starlight of hope.

Musing on the conceit, I continued the allegory as we left the bridge

and splattered away on the old colonial road to the Monongahela, with

the fancy that in spirit, as in body, I had passed from the shut-in

blackness out into the openness of space, and that before me was promise

of fair dawn.

The day's dawn came as promised, bringing me still greater elevation of

spirit. And within the mile a mischievous farmer's brat by the wayside

tumbled me from heaven to muddy earth by howling in a voice of lively

concern that my horse had lost his tail. So near does the ridiculous

skirt the sublime! I had begun my journey on the Day of All Fools.

Perish superstition! Who but the ignorant believes in signs and omens?

And if mine was in truth a wild-goose chase, the sooner I reached the

end of my running the better. I neither would nor could have checked

myself had the thought come to me to turn back.

A journey tedious enough in the best of seasons is not improved by April

rains and boggy roads. On the other hand, I had that drawing me Westward

which would have spurred the tortoise into striving for the hare's leap.

It is sufficient evidence of my haste to state that, for all the

condition of the roads, I made in fifteen days the trip which is

considered well covered if ridden in nineteen.

Let me hasten to add that this was not done on one nag. Even had not my

love of man's second friend served to prevent so brutal an attempt,

failure would have been inevitable. With the best of roads, not a horse

in the Republic could have carried through a man of my weight in the

time. The attempt was not necessary. Thanks to a kindly acquaintance

here and there along my route and to a sufficiency of silver in my

saddlebags, I managed to obtain a fresh mount on an average of twice in

every three days. With such relays, I was able to ride post-haste, yet

leave behind me each horse, in turn, none the worse for his part in the

race.

Up hill and down dale, pound, splatter, and chug, I pushed my mounts to

their best pace, along the old Philadelphia road. In other circumstances

and under clearer skies I might have paused now and again to enjoy the

pleasant aspect of the Alleghany scenery,--its winding rivers and

brooks, its romantic heights and budding woods. But from the first my

thoughts were ever flying ahead to the Monongahela, and the sole

interest I turned to my surroundings was centred upon such urgent

matters as food, lodging, and fresh mounts.

At the end of the journey I found myself in clear memory of but three

incidents,--a tavern brawl with a dozen or more carousing young farmers,

who chose to consider themselves insulted by my refusal to take more

than one glass of their raw whiskey; the swimming of the Susquehanna

River, because of a disablement of the ferry; and a brush with a trio of

highwaymen at nightfall in the thick of a dense wood. The rascals did

not catch me with damp priming. When they sprang out at me, I knocked

over the foremost, as he reached for the bridle, with a thrust of my

rifle muzzle, and swung the barrel around in time to shatter the

shoulder of the second fellow with a shot fired from the hip. The third

would have done for me had not his priming flashed in the pan. He turned

and leaped back into the thicket, while I was quite content to clap

spurs to my horse and gallop on up the road.

But even this last adventure failed to hold a place in my thoughts when

at last, near mid-afternoon of the fifteenth day, I came in view of

Elizabethtown on the Monongahela. Here it was I had reason to hope that

I might overtake Senor Vallois and his party. With roads so difficult,

it was more to be expected that he would take boat from this lively

little shipping point than rag on through the mire to Pittsburg.

Cheered by the thought, I urged my horse into a jog trot, which,

however, soon fell back into a walk as the weary beast floundered

through the deeper mire of the town's main street. I rode as directly as

possible toward the leading tavern. Senor Vallois was not the man to lie

at any other than the best of inns when choice offered.

With quick-beating heart I made out the sign of the tavern I sought, and

again attempted to urge my horse into a jog. He was slow to respond

either to word or spur, and I suddenly gave over the effort at sight of

a tall and dignified figure which stepped from the inn door and swung

easily upon the horse which a half-grown lad had been holding in wait.

The first glance had told me what I most wished to know. My chase had

not been fruitless. The Spanish cloak and hat and high riding boots of

the don were unmistakable, even had I not recognized the Spanish dignity

of his bearing. Certain of his identity, I would have preferred to

postpone a meeting until I had found opportunity to bathe and to change

to the one shift of linen and clothes which I carried behind the cantle

of my saddle. Yet I made no attempt to avoid him when he wheeled his

horse about and rode directly toward me.

Had it not been for our first meeting in the yellow clay of Washington's

famous avenue, I doubt if the don were unmistakable, even had I not

recognized buckskins. With that memory in mind, it is not unlikely that

my mud-smirched condition only served to add to the quickness of his

perception. We were almost passing, when he raised his eyes, which had

been staring down into the miry road in frowning abstraction. His glance

swept over me and rested on my face. A moment later he had drawn rein

and was bowing to me.

"_Por Dios!_ It is our gallant _caballero_ of the mire!--_Buenos dias_,

Dr. Robinson!"

"To you the same, Senor Vallois!" I returned.

"It is a strange chance which brings us to a meeting in this wilderness

bog," he remarked, with what I thought was a shade of suspicion in his

proud black eyes.

There was every reason for me to seek at once to place myself on the

footing with him that I desired. Meeting his glance with a careless nod,

I answered readily: "It is a pleasant chance which brings us together

here, but not a strange one. Little travel comes from Philadelphia to

the Ohio other than on the road we both have such cause to remember."

"From Philadelphia?" he questioned.

"I carry despatches from Colonel Burr."

"You!" he cried, thrown out of his aristocratic reserve. But in the same

breath he was bowing his apologies. "Your pardon, senor! I was not aware

that you and Colonel Burr--"

"Nor he, senor, until a few days ago," I hastened to explain. "Senator

Adair of Kentucky was formerly my father's friend and camp-mate. He

advised me to see Colonel Burr. When I started upon my return West, I

came by way of Philadelphia. It did not take me long to come to an

agreement with--" I lowered my voice and leaned nearer the don--"the

man who professes an intention to strike off the fetters of a land dear

to Senor Vallois."

"_Poder de Dios!_" cried the don, reaching his hand to me with a fiery

impetuosity of which I had believed him incapable--"_Santisima Virgen!_

You are one of us! You have cast in your lot with the new league of

freedom!"

It angered me that I must qualify. "Hold, senor! I did not say that. I

have not gone so far--as yet."

"As yet?" he demanded.

"Your pardon, senor, but many such projects are schemed, and in the end

prove to be--'castles in Spain.'"

He smiled gravely and without offence. "Senor, I give you my word that I

and my friends are prepared to build the Western wall of the castle."

"Your word, senor, is sufficient. But there remains the Eastern wall,

and I am doubtful of the builders. I did not ask for Colonel Burr's

word. I preferred something more substantial. He has promised that I

shall receive such proof upon my arrival at St. Louis."

"Then you, too, go to the--to St. Louis?"

"To the General," I responded, surmising that it was General Wilkinson

whom he had hesitated to name.

"You spoke of despatches."

"Letters from the Colonel to parties we both seek, in St. Louis and New

Orleans."

"Colonel Burr entrusted me with numerous despatches."

"He mentioned the day of my visit with him in Philadelphia as the eighth

after your departure. That week may have seen developments or changes

which required fresh despatches."

"_Poder de Dios!_" he exclaimed. "You left Philadelphia eight days

later--and are here!"

"At your service, senor."

"_Santisima Virgen!_ And I had four horses to my carriage!"

"I had nine horses beneath my saddle, in succession."

"_Virgen!_ What a _caballero_!"

"When a man is in haste to see his journey's end, senor, he does not

loll about taverns on the way. You came in yesterday?" He bowed. "Then

you may be able to tell me what are the chances of obtaining quick

passage down the river."

He looked across toward the shipyards with a frown.

"I am now on my way to inquire, senor," he answered. "Against the better

counsel of Colonel Burr, I was so ill advised as to bring a seaman from

the seaboard to have charge of the water journey."

"A salt-water sailor on an Ohio flat!" I exclaimed.

"The senor forgets that I am a stranger to his forest wilderness."

"Your pardon, Senor Vallois!--Permit me to ride with you. It may be I

can assist you."

"_Na-da-a!_" he protested. "I cannot permit it. You have ridden for

fifteen days at more than post speed. You must first refresh yourself."

"The senor forgets that I am no less eager than himself to arrange for

the river passage. Rest assured I am good for another day in the saddle,

if need be, at your service, senor."

As I wheeled around, and we started for the riverside, he looked me up

and down with a wondering glance.

"_Por Dios!_" he muttered. "I had thought none could ride as ride our

_vaqueros_. You are a man of iron."

"I am the son of my father," I replied. "How other than hard could be

the sons of the men who wrested this Western land from the savages,--who

have driven the Cherokees, Creeks, and Choctaws south of Tennessee, and

pressed back the Northwest Indians to their present fastnesses about the

Great Lakes?"

"It is true," he said. "I have been told no little of that most cruel

and ferocious warfare waged by your savage enemies. I myself know the

fearsomeness of the raids of our equally ferocious Apaches and Yaquis.

Therefore I do not wonder that the men and the sons of the men who met

their painted enemies in this gloomy wilderness should have become not

only hard, but rude and harsh in their manners."

"Given that and the prevailing craze for raw whiskey, and we have--what

we have. Yet they are the men whose fathers met the Indian on his own

ground; who themselves have met the ravaging war parties, and who will

doubtless again meet them,--though I trust not again on the banks of the

Ohio."

"May the Virgin grant that your trust is well founded!" returned the

senor, with deep earnestness. "Yet the British soldiers still hold your

lake forts, and it is rumored that the British agents are ever at work

conspiring with the Northern tribes against the interests of your

people. Let me predict that unless Britain is humbled by the great

Emperor, she will make excuse of your many differences to crush your

Republic and regain these lost colonies."

"Let her try!" I cried. "Let her turn loose her savage allies upon us,

and we will hurl them back into the lakes! We will cross over and drive

redcoats and redskins alike down the St. Lawrence into the sea! Even the

abject people of the seaboard, who now lick the foot that spurns them,

will remember their fathers of the Revolution, and strike the enemy as

Paul Jones and his fellows struck them,--on the sea."

The senor met my enthused glance with unmoved gravity. "I have heard

mention of what is called President Jefferson's mosquito fleet."

Our arrival at the shipyards gave me welcome excuse to change the

subject. I pointed to the scores of river craft, afloat in the stream or

in course of construction. "Had you in mind, senor, to take a bateau or

a flat?"

"Bateau?--flat?" he repeated. "Your pardon, doctor, but the terms--?"

"A bateau is a boat of flat bottom but with keel. A flat is a great scow

without keel, and often provided with deal cabins."

"I had been told how to proceed, but left all to that rascal of a

seaman. Immediately upon our arrival, he told me, with many foul oaths,

that he intended to make no ventures on fresh water, and to show his

contempt for the saltless fluid, has sat ever since in the taproom of

the inn, guzzling whiskey."

"You are better off without the fellow," I said. "There are scores of

men to be hired here who are well used to river travel. Is it your

intention to hire passage, or to purchase your own boat?"

"Privacy is desirable. I have disposed of my coach and horses with less

loss than I had feared. If boats are not too high in price--"

"Rest easy as to that, senor. Boats are one of the cheapest products of

the shipping towns. The question first to decide is whether you prefer a

keelboat or a flat."

"Senor, I must rely upon your good advice," he replied.

I pointed at the swollen, turbid current of the Monongahela, swirling

high along its banks. "As you see, the river is in full flood. It is

what the rivermen term the Spring fresh. The Ohio now runs no less

swiftly, at times fully eight miles an hour. I should advise you to

choose a flat, because it will travel little less speedily than a

bateau, and with its house, will prove a far more comfortable craft for

so long a voyage."

"Comfort is an important consideration, doctor. With me travels my

niece, whom you may remember."

I kept such command of my features as I could. "I have a clear memory of

Senorita Vallois. It is unfortunate."

"Unfortunate!" he exclaimed, with a lift of his black brows.

"That you have no servant skilled in handling a river boat."

"Ah--that!"

"A single man could manage your flat, provided you were willing to lend

a hand on occasion at steer-oar or pole--a few minutes, it might be,

once or twice a day. There are, as I have said, numbers of skilled

rivermen to be hired. But--" I paused as if to consider--"No. I could

bring you more than one for whose faithfulness I could vouch, but none

who is not foul-mouthed and--to a foreigner--insolent."

Shifting my gaze to the nearest flat, I waited in eager suspense. He

answered with a question: "Do I understand you to say that with my help

one man could guide so clumsy a craft?" I nodded, with assumed

carelessness. "And you are yourself skilled as a riverman, senor?" Again

I nodded. I could not trust myself to speak. He continued with polite

hesitancy: "Would you, then, think it odd, Dr. Robinson, if I requested

you to make the river journey with me?"

"Senor!" I cried, "it would give me great pleasure!"

"_Carambo!_" he muttered, at sight of my glowing face.

A moment's hesitancy would have lost me all the vantage I had gained. I

held my left hand level before me, and swept off the upturned palm with

my right. There are few of the Indian signs which do not pass current

from the lakes of the North and the swamps of the South to the most

remote of the tribes in the Far West. I was right in my surmise that

they were known even across the Spanish borders.

The senor bowed in quick apology: "A thousand pardons, Senor Robinson!"

"A man does not ride post-haste without expense," I said, with a

seriousness which was not all feigned.

"A thousand pardons!" he repeated. "My purse is at your disposal, Senor

Robinson. I do not speak in empty compliment. Such funds as you may

require--"

"_Muchas gracias!_" I broke in. "I have enough silver left to jingle in

my pocket. My thought was that it would be more agreeable to work my

passage with an acquaintance than with strangers. At this season it is

unusual for persons of culture to undertake the river trip. The voyage

is becoming quite the fashion among young gentlemen of means and

enterprise, but they seldom venture over the mountains before settled

weather, and the rivermen, as I have remarked, are not always the best

of company."

"Senor, no more! We share this voyage as fellow-travellers--my boat and

your skill. Is it not so?"

"Senor, my thanks!" I replied. "Yet first, there is the question of

Senorita Vallois's pleasure. It is a long voyage. I would not thrust

myself upon your intimacy against the lady's inclinations."

"My niece will be no less pleased than myself to travel in company with

a gentleman of your acquaintance. I will answer for that. My niece has

lived for three years in England. While we travel in Anglo-America, we

are agreed to comply with such customs of the country as do not differ

too widely from our own."

I bowed low to hide my extreme satisfaction. It was the rarest of good

fortune to have penetrated the reserve with which a Spanish gentleman

surrounds the ladies of his family. But it was not my part to dwell upon

the fact. I hastened to point out a flatboat which had caught my eye

when we first rode down to the bank.

"What is your opinion of that craft?" I asked.

"So large a boat--for two men? _Santa Maria!_"

"Hardly forty feet over all," I replied. "Let us go aboard."

He swung to the ground as quickly as myself, and we hitched our horses

to the nearest stump. As the flat was moored alongside the rough wharf,

we had only to step aboard. The height of the water brought the craft

almost on a level with the wharf.

A glance or two showed me that the boat was already fitted out with

steer-oar, sweeps and poles, a kedge with ample line, and a light skiff,

snugly stowed in the ten-foot space of open prow. Having next made sure

that she was well calked and dry, I led the senor through the house. It

was divided into three apartments or rooms, of which the one nearest the

stern was some five feet the longest.

"Here," I said, pointing to the rude but well-built fireplace, "is the

kitchen, salon, and dining-room of our floating inn."

We passed on through the middle and forward rooms. Like the kitchen,

both were limited to a width of seven feet by the need of a runway

without, along each side of the boat. But Senor Vallois looked about

approvingly.

"We could share this cabin," he said, glancing about the forward room.

"My thanks, senor, but I can make shift to sleep on deck," I replied.

"There will be rain--there is always rain in this northern country of

yours. No. You will do me the favor of sharing this cabin with me. There

are two berths, as you see."

I looked gravely at the rude bunks built, one above the other, on the

left wall, and bowed my acceptance of the offer.

"It is well," he continued. "My niece and her woman will share the

middle room. There remains only the question of purchase."

"Leave the bargaining to me," I said quickly, at sight of the

shrewd-faced Yankee who came down the wharf as we stepped out into the

open prow.

"The affair is entirely in your hands, doctor," assented the senor.

The Yankee stepped aboard with an air of brisk business.

"I cal'clate ye want a boat," he began. "Let ye have this 'un dirt

cheap."

"How much?" I demanded.

"One seventy-five."

"Lumber cordelled by keelboat from New Orleans?" I rallied him in

smiling irony.

He looked me up and down with a speculative eye.

"We-ell, stranger, I might knock off ten dollars."

"You mean fifty."

Again he surveyed me; then appraised the rich broadcloth of my

companion.

"Be ye buyin' fer him?" he queried.

"We make the trip together. I can go as high as a hundred and

twenty-five. We could do better at Pittsburg, but are willing to give

you the bargain, to save our boots."

He looked again from my mud-smeared buckskins to the senor's fine

apparel, and smiled sourly. "Ye'll git no such boat at the price, here

or at Pittsburg, if ye wait till the next freeze. One fifty is my best

offer. Take it or leave it."

"Skiff, kedge, sweeps, poles, and steer-oar included," I stipulated.

He assented, with well-feigned reluctance: "As she stands--lock, stock,

and barrel."

I handed him a five-bit piece. "Taken! Yet I'd have had you down fifteen

more if we were not in haste."

"I'd ha' eased your high-nosed don of a round two hundred, my lad, had

he done his own dickering," muttered he, as, at a word from me, the

senor drew out a bulging purse and counted into my palm the hundred and

fifty dollars in American gold.

A Volunteer with Pike The True Narrative of One Dr. John Robinson and of His Love for the Fair Señorita Vallois · 第 7 / 36 章