Days of practice with my gun followed, and then two or three more
afternoons in the mouth of the Thames, my uncle always selecting the
roughest days for that purpose; but after a time or two I quite got over
my dread of the water, and was ready enough to hold the sheet or take
the tiller, picking up very rapidly a knowledge of how to steer so as to
ease the boat over the waves that would take us on the beam; learning
how to tack and go about: and a dozen other little matters highly
necessary for one who attempts the management of a boat.
And then the day of parting came, for Uncle Dick had made all his
preparations, which were after all very simple, consisting as they did
of two or three changes of clothes, plenty of ammunition, tools for
skinning birds and animals, an abundant supply of preserving paste, and
some medicines.
It was arranged that we were to go by one of the French steamers from
Marseilles, to catch which we had of course to cross France, and then we
intended to travel by one of the Peninsular and Oriental steamers to
Singapore after crossing the Isthmus of Suez, for this was long before
Monsieur de Lesseps had thrust spade into the sand.
"Get the good-byes over quickly, Nat," said Uncle Dick; and this I did
as far as my Aunt Sophy was concerned, though she did kiss me and seem
more affectionate than usual.
But it was different with poor Uncle Joseph, and had I known how he
would take it to heart I'm afraid that I should have thought twice over
before making up my mind to go.
"I can hardly believe it, Nat, my boy," he said in a husky voice. "It
don't seem natural for you to be going away, my boy, and I don't know
how I shall get on without you."
As he spoke he held my hands in his, and though he was pretending to be
very cheerful, I could see that he was greatly troubled, and after all
his kindness to me I felt as if I was behaving cruelly and ungratefully
in the extreme.
"But I'm not going to grieve about you, Nat, my boy," he said quite
cheerfully, "and here's your knife."
As he spoke he drew a splendid great jack-knife out of his pocket,
hauling out a quantity of white cord to which it was attached, and
proceeding to fasten it round my waist.
"There, Nat, my boy," he said, "it was the best I could get you; and the
man says it is a splendid bit of stuff. Do you like it, Nat--do you
like it?"
"Oh, uncle," I said, "it is too kind of you!"
"Not a bit, my boy, not a bit; and now make good use of it, and grow
strong and big, and come back as clever a man as your uncle, and I know
you will."
There is a bit of history to that knife, for it was only the day before
that he and I and Uncle Dick were together, and Uncle Joe wanted to make
me a present.
"There, Nat," said Uncle Joe, drawing his heavy gold watch out of the
fob by its watered-silk ribbon with the handsomely chased gold key and
large topaz seal at the end, "I shall give you that watch, my boy, for a
keepsake. Take it, Nat, and put it in your pocket; keep it out of
sight, my boy, till you have gone. I shall tell your aunt afterwards,
but she mightn't like it, you know, and it would be a little
unpleasant."
"But I don't like to take your watch, uncle," I said, glad as I should
have been to have it, for it seemed too bad to take it away.
"Quite right, Nat," said Uncle Dick; "don't take it."
"Not take it!" said Uncle Joe in a disappointed tone.
"No; he does not want a watch, Joe. Where he is going he must make the
sun his watch."
"Yes," said Uncle Joe quickly, "but how about the night?"
"Then he'll have to sleep and rest himself for the next day's work."
"And how about getting up in good time?"
"Daylight's the good time for getting up, Joe," said Uncle Dick; "and
the sun will tell him the time."
"Ah!" cried Uncle Joe triumphantly, "but the sun does not always shine."
"No, not here," replied Uncle Dick. "You have too much smoke and fog.
We are going where he shines almost too much. Here, put away your
watch, Joe. It is of no use to a boy who will be journeying through the
primeval forest, plunging through thorny undergrowth or bog, or fording
rivers and letting his clothes dry on him afterwards."
"But I should have liked him to have the watch," said Uncle Joe, rubbing
one side of his nose softly with the case.
"Leave it for him in your will, then, my boy," said Uncle Dick. "He
wants nothing that will encumber him, and your watch would only be a
nuisance when the water had soaked in. Leave it to him in your will."
"Yes," said Uncle Joseph, "but I should have liked to give him something
else to make him always remember me when he's away."
"Why, Uncle Joe," I cried, with a curious choking feeling coming in my
throat, "you don't think I could ever forget you?"
"No, my boy, no," he said, shaking my hand very heartily, and then
laying the watch down, as if he didn't care to take to it again.
"It's very kind of you, Joe," said Uncle Dick, for he saw how his
brother-in-law seemed hurt; "but don't you see, my dear boy, we are
going to lead the roughest of rough lives, and what we carry at a time
when every extra ounce will be a trouble, must be the barest
necessities. I've often had to leave behind valuable things, solely
because I could not carry them. Here, I tell you what: you go into the
city to-morrow, and buy him one of the best, and biggest, and strongest
jack-knives you can find; one of those with a steel loop so that it can
hang handily from a lanyard, ready for any purpose from cutting his
breakfast to hacking a way through the canes, or skinning a wild beast.
You could not give him a better present than that."
"To be sure," cried Uncle Joe, brightening up, "I will. What kind of a
handle would you like, Nat?"
"Never mind the handle, Joe; look to the blade. Let it be a thoroughly
good bit of stuff, the best you can buy."
"To be sure. Yes; to be sure," cried Uncle Joe; and taking up his watch
he lowered it so carelessly into its place that it missed the fob, and
ran down the right leg of his trousers into his Wellington boot.
I had to turn boot-jack and drag the boot off before the watch could be
recovered, Uncle Dick laughing heartily the while.
And now this was the knife the good, amiable old fellow had got for me,
and certainly it was one that would stand me in good stead for any
length of time.
"Good-bye, Joe, old fellow," said Uncle Dick, gripping his hand fast.
"I'll take care of Nat."
"Yes, yes, you will, won't you?" he cried.
"Indeed I will, Joe, indeed I will; and now once more good-bye, old
fellow, I'm off. Till we meet again. Come after me soon, Nat."
Uncle Dick went away so as to leave us together, and no sooner were we
alone than Uncle Joe hesitated for a moment, and then hugged me to his
breast.
"Good-bye; God bless you, my boy!" he cried. "It's all for the best,
and I won't worry about your going; only come back to me as soon as you
can, and mind you write."
I can remember that there was a curious dim look about everything just
then, and that Uncle Dick was very quiet in the cab; and so he was in
the train, speaking to me hardly at all, and afterwards he read to
himself nearly all the way to Paris, after which he suddenly seemed to
turn merry and bright, and chatted to me in the heartiest way.