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HASTE AND WASTE
OR
THE YOUNG PILOT OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN
A STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
BY
OLIVER OPTIC
BIOGRAPHY AND BIBLIOGRAPHY
William Taylor Adams, American author, better known and loved by
boys and girls through his pseudonym "Oliver Optic," was born July
30, 1822, in the town of Medway, Norfolk County, Massachusetts, about
twenty-five miles from Boston. For twenty years he was a teacher in
the Public Schools of Boston, where he came in close contact with boy
life. These twenty years taught him how to reach the boy's heart and
interest as the popularity of his books attest.
His story writing began in 1850 when he was twenty-eight years old
and his first book was published in 1853. He also edited "The Oliver
Optic Magazine," "The Student and Schoolmate," "Our Little Ones."
Mr. Adams died at the age of seventy-five years, in Boston, March
27, 1897.
He was a prolific writer and his stories are most attractive and
unobjectionable. Most of his books were published in series. Probably
the most famous of these is "The Boat Club Series" which comprises
the following titles:
"The Boat Club," "All Aboard," "Now or Never," "Try Again," "Poor
and Proud," "Little by Little." All of these titles will be found in
this edition.
Other well-known series are his "Soldier Boy Series," "Sailor Boy
Series," "Woodville Stories." The "Woodville Stories" will also be
found in this edition.
CHAPTER I
THE SQUALL ON THE LAKE
"Stand by, Captain John!" shouted Lawry Wilford, a stout boy of
fourteen, as he stood at the helm of a sloop, which was going before
the wind up Lake Champlain.
"What's the matter, Lawry?" demanded the captain.
"We're going to have a squall," continued the young pilot, as he
glanced at the tall peaks of the Adirondacks.
There was a squall in those clouds, in the judgment of Lawry
Wilford; but having duly notified the captain of the impending danger
to his craft, he did not assume any further responsibility in the
management of the sloop. It was very quiet on the lake; the water was
smooth, and the tiny waves sparkled in the bright sunshine. There was
no roll of distant thunder to admonish the voyagers, and the youth at
the helm was so much accustomed to squalls and tempests, which are of
frequent occurrence on the lake, that they had no terrors to him. It
was dinner-time, and the young pilot, fearful that the unexpected
guest might reduce the rations to a low ebb for the second table, was
more concerned about this matter than about the squall.
Captain John, as he was familiarly called on board the
_Missisque,_ which was the name of the sloop, was not a man to
be cheated out of any portion of his dinner by the approach of a
squall; and though his jaws may have moved more rapidly after the
announcement of the young pilot, he did not neglect even the green-apple
pies, the first of the season, prepared with care and skill by
Mrs. Captain John, who resided on board, and did "doctor's" duty at
the galley. Captain John did not abate a single mouthful of the meal,
though he knew how rapidly the mountain showers and squalls travel
over the lake. The sloop did not usually make more than four or five
miles an hour, being deeply laden with lumber, which was piled up so
high on the deck that the mainsail had to be reefed, to make room for
it.
The passenger, Mr. Randall, was a director of a country bank,
journeying to Shoreham, about twenty miles above the point where he
had embarked in the _Missisque_. He had crossed the lake in the
ferry, intending to take the steamer at Westport for his destination.
Being a man who was always in a hurry, but never in season, he had
reached the steamboat landing just in time to see the boat moving
off. Procuring a wherry, and a boy to row it, he had boarded the
_Missisque_ as she passed up the lake; and, though the sloop was
not a passenger-boat, Captain John had consented to land him at
Shoreham.
Mr. Randall was a landsman, and had a proper respect for squalls and
tempests, even on a fresh-water lake. He heard the announcement of
Lawry Wilford with a feeling of dread and apprehension, and
straightway began to conjure up visions of a terrible shipwreck, and
of sole survivors, clinging with the madness of desperation to broken
spars, in the midst of the storm-tossed waters. But Mr. Randall was a
director of a country bank, and a certain amount of dignity was
expected and required of him. His official position before the people
of Vermont demanded that he should not give way to idle fears. If
Captain Jones, who was not a bank director, could keep cool, it was
Mr. Randall's solemn duty to remain unmoved, or at least to appear to
remain so.
The passenger finished the first course of the dinner, which Mrs.
Captain John had made a little more elaborate than usual, in honor of
the distinguished guest; but he complained of the smallness of his
appetite, and it was evident that he did not enjoy the meal after the
brief colloquy between the skipper and the pilot. He was nervous; his
dignity was a "bore" to him, and was maintained at an immense
sacrifice of personal ease; but he persevered until a piece of the
dainty green-apple pie was placed before him, when he lacerated the
tender feelings of Mrs. Captain John by abruptly leaving the table
and rushing on deck.
This hurried movement was hardly to be regarded as a sacrifice of
his dignity, for it was made with what even the skipper's lady was
compelled to allow was a reasonable excuse.
"Gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Randall, as the tempting piece of green-apple
pie, reeking with indigenous juices was placed before him.
At the same moment the bank director further indicated his
astonishment and horror by slapping both hands upon his breast in a
style worthy of Brutus when Rome was in peril.
"What's the matter, squire?" demanded Captain John, dropping his
knife and fork, and suspending the operation of his vigorous jaws
till an explanation could be obtained.
"I've left my coat on deck," replied Mr. Randall, rising from his
chair.
"It's just as safe there as 'twould be on your back, squire," added
the skipper.
"There's six thousand dollars in the pocket of that coat," said the
bank director, with a gasp of apprehension. "Where's my coat?"
demanded he.
"There it is," replied Lawry Wilford, pointing to the garment under
the rail. "We had a flaw of wind just now, and it came pretty near
being blowed overboard."
"Gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Randall, as he clutched the coat. "I'm too
careless to live! There's six thousand dollars in a pocket of that
coat."
"Six thousand dollars!" ejaculated Lawry, whose ideas of such a sum
of money were very indefinite. "I should say you ought not to let it
lie round loose in this way."
"I'm very careless; but the money is safe," continued the director.
"Stand by, Captain John!" suddenly shouted Lawry, with tremendous
energy, as he put the helm down. The squall was coming up the lake in
the track of the _Missisque_; a dull, roaring sound was heard
astern; and all the mountain peaks had disappeared, closed in by the
dense volume of black clouds. The episode of the bank director's coat
had distracted the attention of the young pilot for a moment, and he
had not observed the rapid swoop of the squall, as it bore down upon
the sloop. He leaped over the piles of lumber to the forecastle, and
had cast loose the peak-halyard, when Captain John tumbled up the
companionway in time to see that he had lingered too long over the
green-apple pie, and that one piece would have been better for his
vessel, if not for him.
"Let go the throat-halyard!" roared he. "Down with the mainsail!
down with the mainsail!"
Lawry did not need any prompting to do his duty; but before he could
let go the throat-halyard, the squall was upon the sloop. Mr. Randall
had seized hold of the rail, and was crouching beneath the bulwark,
expecting to go to the bottom of the lake, for he was too much
excited to make a comparison of the specific gravities of pine boards
and fresh water, and therefore did not realize that lumber would
float, and not sink.
The squall did its work in an instant; and before the bank director
had fairly begun to tremble, the rotten mainsail of the
_Missisque_ was blown into ribbons, and the "flapping flitters"
were streaming in the air. Piece after piece was detached from the
bolt-rope, and disappeared in the heavy atmosphere. The sloop, in
obedience to her helm, came about, and was now headed down the lake.
The rain began to fall in torrents, and Mr. Randall was as
uncomfortable as the director of a country bank could be.
"Go below, sir!" shouted Captain John to the unhappy man.
"Is it safe?" asked Mr. Randall.
"Safe enough."
"Won't she sink?"
"Sink? no; she can't sink," replied the skipper. "The wu'st on't's
over now."
The fury of the squall was spent in a moment, and then the fury of
Captain John began to gather, as he saw the remnants of the sail
flapping at the gaff and the boom. The _Missisque_ and her cargo
were safe, and not a single one of the precious lives of her crew had
been sacrificed; but the skipper was as dissatisfied as the skipper
of a lake sloop could be; more so, probably, than if the vessel had
gone to the bottom, and left him clinging for life to a lone spar on
the angry waters, for men are often more reasonable under great than
under small misfortunes.
"Why didn't you let go that throat-halyard?" said he, as he walked
forward to where the young pilot stood.
"I did," replied Lawry quietly.
"You did! What was the use of lettin' it go after the squall had
split the sail? Why didn't you do it sooner?"
"I did it as soon as I saw the squall coming down on us."
"Why didn't you see it before then?" growled Captain John.
"I told you the squall was coming half an hour ago. Why didn't you
come on deck, and attend to your vessel?"
"Don't be sassy," said Captain John.
"I'm not the skipper of this craft. If I had been, that sail would
have been safe. I told you the squall was coming, and after that I
did the best I could."
"You ain't good for nothin' 'board a vessel. I thought you knew
enough to take in sail when you saw a squall comin'."
"I should have taken in sail long ago if I had thought the captain
didn't know enough to come on deck when there was a squall coming
up," replied Lawry.
"I don't want nothin' more of you."
"And I don't want anything more of you," added Lawry smartly. "I've
got almost home."
"What do you s'pose I'm goin' to do here, eighty mile from
Whitehall, with the mainsail blowed clean out?" snarled Captain John,
as he followed Lawry.
"Mind your vessel better than you have, I hope."
"Don't be sassy, boy."
"You needn't growl at me because you neglected your duty. I did
mine. I was casting off the halyards when the squall came."
"Why didn't you do it before? That's what I want to know."
"I had no orders from the captain. Men on board a vessel don't take
in sail till they are told to do so. When I saw the squall coming,
half an hour ago, I let you know it; that was all I had to do with it."
"I don't want you in this vessel; you are too smart for me,"
continued Captain John.
"I'll leave her just as soon as we get to Port Rock," said Lawry,
sitting down on the rail.
The rain ceased in a few moments, and the skipper ordered the jib,
which had before been useless, to be set. At the invitation of Mrs.
Captain John, Lawry went below and ate his dinner, to which he felt
himself entitled, for he was working his passage up from Plattsburg.
By the time he had disposed of the last piece of green-apple pie on
board, the _Missisque_ was before Port Rock, which was the home
of the young pilot, and he saw his father's ferry-boat at the shore
as he came on deck.
"Will you put me ashore here, Captain John?" asked Lawry.
"Yes, I will; and I'm glad to get rid of you," replied the captain
testily.
"I think I will land here, also," added the bank director. "Now you
have lost your sail, I'm afraid you won't get along very fast."
"I don't expect I shall. I sha'n't get to Shoreham till to-morrow
morning with this wind. I'm sorry it happened so; but that boy didn't
mind what he was about."
"The captain didn't mind what he was about," added Lawry. "He
needn't lay it to me, when it was all his own fault."
"I will cross the lake, and get a horse at Pointville, so that I
shall be in Shoreham by five o'clock," continued the bank director.
Captain John ordered one of the men to pull Mr. Randall and Lawry
ashore in the boat, and in a few minutes they were landed at Port Rock.