BOGGS ADRIFT.
“I wonder what detains Isabel?” said Mrs. Moreland, for the twentieth
time, perhaps, as she and the rest of the party sat in the boats,
awaiting the maiden’s return.
“I can not guess,” said her husband, uneasily, at the same time listening
intently, with the hope of catching the sound of that familiar footstep
in the woods above. “She has been gone long enough, almost, to have gone
there and back three or four times, and she gave us to understand before
starting that she would not be absent a greater while than it would
require to run home, procure her case of trinkets, and return.”
“Perhaps,” continued the fond mother, willing to believe any thing that
would excuse the absent one, “perhaps she has met a friend, who has so
much to say at parting that she finds it difficult to tear herself away.”
Mr. Moreland shook his head.
“Not that, I’ll warrant. Isabel isn’t the girl to tarry for so slight
a cause, when she has promised to go and come quickly. Besides, since
her recent misdemeanor, I can think of no one, alas! who regards her
as a friend. I think I will go in search of her; we are losing time in
waiting.”
“I wouldn’t do any sech thing, Mr. Moreland,” said one of the rangers.
“’Tain’t likely ’ut harm has befell the gal ’twixt this an’ the fort, an’
ye knows nothin’ has happened to her _thar_. Jest keep yer seat; she’ll
be hyur in a minute, I take it.”
“But you forget the loss of time.”
“I forgit nothin’. What’s a few minutes spent in idleness at sech a time
as this? How long are it goin’ to take us to travel ten mile with the
current? We mought make’t long ’fore mornin’.”
“True; I did not think of that. But, since that is the case, why would it
not be possible to make the entire distance without stopping, provided we
left here early in the evening?”
“We mought do it easy, ’cause I don’t reckon it’s more’n fifteen or
sixteen mile, and the course lays down-stream. But ye must b’ar in mind,
prudence has the preference over every thing. Never make haste ag’in’
prudence, whatever ye does. Us fellers wa’n’t sent with yer to row yer
boats an’ shuffle ye off down’t t’other fort in a jiffy. We’re with ye
to protect ye from danger if needcessary, an’ eff we go rattlin’ off as
fast as we kin lug the oars, I opine it’ll soon be needcessary. The moon
are settin’ now, an’ in five minutes it’ll be darker’n a stack o’ black
cats. It’s goin’ to take a cute noddle, I s’pect, to keep the boats in
the middle o’ the river, an’ precious little rowin’ will be did, ’cept to
guide ’em, ’cause we must have complete silence the whole way through.
We’ll pass more’n one Injun camp-fire, I make no doubt, an’ who knows but
we may run into a nest o’ the skunks on the very island whar we are to
stop?”
“Hist! Listen!” exclaimed Mrs. Moreland, at this point in the
conversation. “I believe I heard our daughter’s voice.”
The two men paused and listened.
“Thar’s somebody comin’, to a sartainty,” said the ranger, hearing the
snapping of twigs occasioned by a footfall in the woods.
“Very true, and I presume—Hark!”
A peal of clear, rippling laughter fell upon their ears.
“Why, what does that mean?” said Mr. Moreland, in surprise. “That is our
daughter, without a doubt, but she is not alone. Hear! she is talking
with some person.”
“Only a friend, I suppose, who has accompanied her to the river to see
her off,” returned his wife.
“Well, here they are. We can see who it is.”
At that moment two persons appeared on the bank above them.
One of them was Isabel, truly, but the other was a _man_. He was rather a
singular-looking man, too, as we have already observed several times in
the course of our story; a man with lank, yellow hair, a tall white hat,
and a sharp, nasal voice, who wore a long, swallow-tail blue, with brass
buttons scattered promiscuously upon it! This was the individual who
burst upon the view of the voyagers in the company of the young girl.
“Skulp me ef ’tain’t that ar’ clock-peddler, as sez he’s from Maine,”
chuckled one of the men.
“It is, or I’m a skunk,” chimed in another.
“Hallo, thar, Boggs,” called a third. “What in the name of the Old
Scratch are you doin’ hyur?”
“Isabel,” said Mr. Moreland, almost sternly, “get in the boat quickly,
and let us be off. You have already detained us much longer than was
necessary.”
“Oh, papa, my delay was unavoidable,” cried Isabel, as she stepped in.
“But, look, papa, here is a gentleman who wishes to accompany us. Is
there room for him?”
“A gentleman? Who is he?”
“Jonathan Boggs, all the way from Maine!” ejaculated that individual
himself, coming down to the water’s edge with a single stride. “Here I
be, every bit o’ me, an’ a foot or two to spare. Want tew buy a clock?”
The Yankee drew himself up to his full hight, and coolly scanned the crew
of each vessel.
“It strikes me I have seen you before,” said Mr. Moreland, after
surveying the New Englander from head to foot.
“Wal, then, you may view me _behind_ awhile,” returned the man, with the
utmost nonchalance, quietly turning his back toward the voyagers as he
spoke.
“No, no; you did not understand me correctly,” said the settler, smiling.
“Come; look here.”
The clock-vender turned slowly around again, seeming puzzled by the low,
chuckling laugh which ran through the party of hunters.
“Your name is Boggs?” asked Mr. Moreland.
“Yas, all the way from Maine,” was the quick reply.
“And you are going to the same fort we are bound for?”
“That ’ere’s what I calkilate on dewin’, ef I’m lucky ’nough tew obtain
deck-passage on one o’ these sloops. What d’ye think, governor? All the
berths taken? You see I might be o’ some use, as I’d be willin’ tew take
my turn at the paddles.”
“Well, my friend, you can be of no assistance to us in that way, but you
are at liberty to become one of us, if you wish. Get in.”
“That’s the talk.”
The Yankee stepped into the boat, and took a seat in the bow. There
being no cause for further delay, the word was now given to start, and
the loaded boats were at once put in motion. Moving slowly out, into the
current of the river, the little vessels glided away on their downward
course.
“I s’pose you’ll do your share if it comes to fighting?” said one of the
men, addressing the Yankee.
“My sheer?” was the astonished reply. “Now, see here, stranger, you ain’t
afeard, be you? But, never mind. Ef it comes tew fightin’, and you’d
rayther keep out o’ sight till it’s over, I guess I can take your part in
the tussle.”
There was a low, guarded laugh at the interrogator’s expense.
“But you are unarmed,” continued the ranger, undaunted.
“Unarmed? Jumpin’ Jemima! can’t you see these arms? Jest look at that
reach! I can pull a nigger’s hair at ten yards!”
“Yes, but you have no weapons.”
“Weepins? Law, no, but what the ’tarnal creation do a Maine wild-cat
want o’ weepins! Jerewsilem! When I was a suckin’ cub in the manger I
had pistols and knives for playthings, but I’m a man now, and have no
further use for sech toys. Weepins! Ef an Injun should lose all respect
for hisself, so far as tew come ’ithin ten yards o’ this personage, I
tell you, stranger, he’d be apt tew run ag’in’ an iron weight as ’ud send
him tew grass in the shakin’ o’ a possum’s ear. Oh, I’m a squealer! I’m a
hard-shell snappin’-turkle from Sebago Pond! I’m an amphibious reptile,
and I’m game tew the spine on land or water! I’m a six-hoss team with
a mule tew lead, and ef you don’t believe it git up and ride. Let the
red-skins come at me, ef they think o’ no better way tew die. I’ll skelp
’em with a single look. I’ll blister their confounded mugs with a single
squint o’ my eye. Me? Darnation! I’m a-dewin’ business for old Mount
Ætna, and there’s fire, smoke and lava b’ilin’ inside o’ me—”
“Say,” interrupted a man in the other boat; “jest cause that noisy chap
to shet his meat-trap will yer?”
Jonathan Boggs needed no further bidding, and in silence the two boats
drifted on through the increasing gloom.