A few years later I entered the academic department of the State
University, and I can say without blushing that I worked faithfully
that year both in my studies and in athletics. When the summer came and
the vacation months set in, I returned home and began work on one of
the dailies as a reporter, which position I held until college opened
the following fall.
During my sophomore year I succeeded in making the 'varsity football
and track teams, and as a consequence I was pretty much the man by the
end of the season. The same year I was elected athletic editor of the
_Tar Heel_, the college weekly, which I held down fairly well, as I had
had some previous training in the newspaper field.
Spring came, and in due time summer and vacation days would follow,
but before the spring had fairly set in I began to formulate plans
for the summer months. There are numerous ways by which a young man
may spend a pleasant summer, but I think by far the most interesting
and adventurous one is a trip across the Atlantic on a regular old
cattle boat. I decided to make the trip across with two college chums.
Arriving at Newport News, Va., two days after we had finished our
examinations, we were not long in completing our arrangements for a
trip on the cattle boat. The cattle exporter agreed to give us each
one pound, English money, and a return passage on one of the company's
boats. This being satisfactory, we were instructed to be on board early
the following morning, as the ship was due to sail by seven o'clock
sharp. The night previous to our sailing we slept very little, so
anxious were we for the morrow.
Awaking about four o'clock on the morning of our sailing, we
immediately proceeded to don the rough and ready clothes for this
occasion. By the time our dress was completed we looked like graduated
tramps or some other creatures of the same sort with the degree "Hell
from Texas." Brownie with his blue bandanna. Dug with his old football
jersey and corduroy trousers, and I with my boots and a sweater which
had seen service for several years.
My headgear was most becoming, an old brown felt hat from which all
the brim had been torn with the exception of a small part in front
which served as a protection for the eyes. Each and every one of us
realized that we were booked for a "rough and ready, lookout for number
one" trip. We gathered up suit cases and made our way rapidly to the
dock where the ship was lying in readiness. Seven o'clock found us
safely aboard. After walking around the deck several times in search
of an officer, we found the second mate, who, for the asking, readily
permitted us to store our suit cases in his cabin. Three hours later
we were gliding along the Virginia coast bound due northward, and by
twelve o'clock land could no longer be sighted.
Our foreman, that is, the foreman of the cattle squad, Dave Smith,
came on deck in the forenoon and informed us that we need not come
below till four bells that afternoon, as the other fellows who were
experienced cattlemen, would attend to the stalling and roping of the
steers, a tough job. At noon our dinner was issued, but having eaten
an unusually good breakfast we "really didn't care for anything,"
especially since the food was not over appetizing. After having
examined the food, we pitched it over the side of the boat, telling the
second cook that our dinner was enjoyed immensely,--and so it was, I
presume, by the fish.
The Shenandoah was some three hundred and sixty feet in length by fifty
in breadth. She had two decks, which were respectively the main deck
and the cattle deck. The main deck was used for various purposes, the
fore part being used as a promenade for the officers and passengers;
the rear part was on this trip used as a sheep deck, while in the
central part of the deck were the cabins. Directly underneath the main
deck was the cattle deck. This is divided up into stalls, and in every
stall there were four cattle. The stalls run along the side of the
ship parallel to each other, and the intervening space is termed the
alley way. This main alley was divided by more cattle stalls in the
hatchways, consequently making two alley ways. Underneath the cattle
deck in the big holes was stored our cargo, which was principally hay
and corn. This being a slow steamer, she made about twelve knots an
hour, but during rough weather her speed was diminished by something
like five knots.
That afternoon all the cattlemen were ordered up to the steward's room,
where we were each issued a blanket, tin cup, plate, knife, fork and
spoon. This completed our kit. As for food, we were each issued two
pounds of brown sugar and two pounds of margerine; this was supposed to
last one week. When eight bells sounded we three went below and there
were put to work feeding cattle. First we rolled the bales of hay down
the alleyway from one hatchway to another; then, after having cut the
wires on the bales, we would shake it apart and scatter the hay along
the edges of the stalls in the alley way. When the cattle had eaten
about half of the hay we then began to "fork in," that is, to fork the
hay out of the alley way into the troughs, and after this was properly
done we swept clean the alleys. It was fearfully hot and stifling down
there with the cattle; even with nothing on our bodies except armless
gymnasium jackets, it was beastly warm. It was not a great while before
the ship began to roll and rock, and we soon began to feel a little
touch of seasickness, which was brought on so early by the heat and
dust in which we were compelled to work. Before the setting of the sun
I was leaning over the rail of the ship, deathly sick, and humming in
my mind the tune of "Home, Sweet Home."
All the cattlemen are supposed to sleep in the forecastle, situated in
the rear end of the ship, on the cattle deck, just over, or, rather, to
the left of the stern. This was a dark, damp, forbidding little room,
with only a few small portholes to admit the light. It was fitted up
with wooden bunks on either side, and in the centre of the room stood
a greasy wooden table on which the cattlemen ate. Besides being dark,
damp and dingy, it was in the very part of the ship where the rolling
was most perceptible, and if we had attempted to sleep there, we would,
most assuredly, have had to tie ourselves in for fear of being rolled
out of the bunks.
There were seven other cattlemen on the boat, and they did not seem
to mind at all where they bunked or ate. We had investigated the
forecastle that afternoon and found that we could not endure it. So,
when darkness came and we had completed our day's labor, we quietly
rolled up in our blankets with the ship's main deck for a mattress and
our coats for pillows. It was not the least trouble for us to sleep,
for we had slept none the night before, and, besides, we were weary
from toil and sick from the sea.
The following morning at a quarter to six I was aroused from my
peaceful slumber by Mike, a great big, strapping young Irishman, who
was beating on my boot soles with a wooden paddle and bidding us "Git
up," as it was time to begin watering the cattle. I was no sooner on
my feet when I knew that my seasickness was still with me, nor did I
recover from it for several days to come.
We usually finished watering the cattle about seven o'clock. The job of
watering is the hardest and most tedious of all. Every head of stock
has to be watered from a bucket, placed in the trough.
Each bullock will drink on an average three or four buckets of water
every morning, so carrying from one hundred to two hundred buckets of
water from a spot some thirty or forty feet away is no snap. Brownie
always fed the hay while Dug and I did the watering. In watering one
often loses one's temper, for the cattle will sometimes upset the water
and, in consequence, drench the tender; and when the water is being
placed in the trough they will very often butt over the bucket. After
watering, we were always wringing wet, and would have to wait for hours
before we could get a chance to lie in the sun and dry our drenched
clothes.
When the watering was finished, the next thing was to get up, out of
the ship, forty-eight bales of hay and fifty bags of shelled corn.
Generally Dug and I stood below and lifted the hay up to the cattle
deck, while the other fellows rolled the bales along the alley to the
hatchways, where they were to be used. We had about the hardest job of
all, for lifting two hundred and twenty-five pound bales of hay is not
an easy job by any means.
At eight o'clock breakfast was issued, which always consisted of a
stale loaf of bread for each man, a piece of salted horse meat, and a
bitter drink substituting tea or coffee.
We three fellows always ate on deck, or on a box in the alleyway when
the weather was raw. For breakfast we were allowed half an hour, and as
soon as that time was up we were set to work sweeping the alleyways and
cleaning out the troughs.
For the noon meal we had only one dish, which was "scouse," a mixture
of meat and potatoes, thoroughly boiled in water. This dish is a
favorite one with seamen, but I never cultivated a taste for it. We
were allowed a rest of three hours after the noon meal, and that
particular time was looked forward to with pleasure, for, not being
used to hard labor with such a small and unappetizing amount of food,
a nap in the sun was, as might be expected, much appreciated and
thoroughly enjoyed.
At three o'clock we began salting the cattle, and oh! how I used to
hate that, for I knew the salt would make the cattle drink more water
the morning following. After salting, we fed hay, forked in, and then
swept out the alleyways. By the time we had this finished it was
nearing the supper hour, and this meal was just as bad as the rest,
everlasting bread and coffee.
More hay was forked in after supper, and we usually completed our day's
work about seven o'clock, making in all about ten hours slavish work.
When this was finished we never spent any time loafing, but retired to
our quarters, ready to sleep.
For three days I remained deathly sick, taking neither food nor water,
and yet I held up through it all, doing my share of the work.
On the fourth day out I felt better, and ate a little, which
strengthened me considerably. At one time during my fast I was actually
so feeble that I almost weakened under the small bags of corn. Mike
and his little clay pipe filled with "Sensation Tobacco," used to keep
everybody on the ship in bad humor, for the odor of that pipe was
enough to sicken any one. When I regained my appetite, I ate everything
in sight. I did finally come to "scouse."
Well, crossing the banks of Newfoundland, the weather became intensely
cold, and had we not discovered the "donkey room," I hardly know
what we would have done. The "donkey room," a little place situated
directly over the engines from which all the good warm air comes. This
hovel was about half filled with coal, and every spare moment we spent
in this room drying our clothes and warming our shivering bodies. We
were no sooner dry when the spray would again drench us to the skin,
and only one night during the entire trip did we sleep in dry clothes;
luckily we were not subject to colds.
The fourth day out the weather began to change for the worse, and on
the fifth day we witnessed a most fearful storm in which Branner and I
came near losing our lives; had it not been for the life-lines we would
have been lost.
We were working on the main deck with some sheep. The wind was blowing
a terrific gale, and the waves were angrily dashing some fifteen
or twenty feet above the deck of the ship. It was pouring rain and
lightning was playing fantastically on the black, treacherous looking
clouds in the distance. The ship was pitching in every direction, and
we could only keep our positions by holding tightly to the life lines
which were stretched across the deck. We had been working there about
half an hour when the ship gave a tremendous lurch, followed by a most
savage plunge into the water; a huge wave swept the deck, carrying off
fifty-two sheep, pens and all, right out from under our feet, while we
held frantically to the line.
The sheep and pens were carried over with such force that the iron
railings which surround the deck were mashed and torn to pieces;
part of it being carried into the sea with the sheep and the pens.
The weather became so very bad that we were compelled to change our
sleeping quarters.
Nights thereafter we lowered ourselves through one of the hatches to
the bottom of the ship by means of a rope, and there on the bales of
hay we made our beds.
We slept in the bottom of the ship for eight nights. Every morning at
a quarter of four the night watchman would open up the hatch and yell
in a deep voice, "Hello, down there, quarter of four, time to water,"
and we would invariably reply with the question, "How is the weather
to-day?"
The answer would usually be, "Bad, the sky's still foaming."
The bad weather continued for five days, raining all the time, the
ship tossing from side to side. After we had fully cleared the banks
the weather began to get better and three days before we landed it was
again calm. During clear weather, on afternoons when work was finished
we used to go up on deck, strip, and then turn the hose on one another.
It was a trifle cold but after we had given ourselves a friction bath
with a rough towel, we felt like new beings and were ready for our beds
of hay and a good night's rest, to be followed by another day's labor.
Often we would amuse ourselves on deck by a wrestle or a round or
two with some of the sailors, who thought themselves the best men on
the ship. Three rounds in the ring with a husky sailor is positively
guaranteed to remedy any case of indigestion.
There were some great characters on our boat besides Mike Johnson, the
big Irish foreman. There was old man Dunn, "the locator." I believe
he sometimes went by the name of Colonel Dunn, but he was generally
known among the cow-punchers as the "Locator," for at every available
opportunity he applied the word "Locate," generally humorously
inappropriate.
Colonel Dunn was a man of sixty-seven years, born in Scotland, near
Edinburgh. At the age of ten he ran away and joined a ship bound for
Australia. On his arrival there he spent several months on a ranch some
hundred miles in the bush. Soon tiring of this, he embarked for England
where he enlisted in the English cavalry. He subsequently served in
the French cavalry for three years and in Uncle Sam's cavalry for six
years. He was in the West with General Custer, but just a few days
before Custer made his last stand Dunn was taken ill, consequently not
participating in that historic fight. He had crossed the Atlantic over
twenty times and had been around the world more than once; besides he
had traveled in almost every land of the world.
The winter before I met him, he had spent on a ranch in the range
country of Montana, and the spring he passed trapping fur bearing
animals in the wildest parts of the Rocky Mountains. Even in his old
age he could, it was said, handle a rifle and pistol to perfection and
could sit a bronco as long as the next man. Such was the Honorable
Colonel Dunn.
The three cattlemen were "Yorky Kid," "Cockney," and "Willie off the
Yacht." "Yorky Kid" was a young fellow of twenty, born in New York and
who took to beating trains at the early age of twelve. Before he was
sixteen he had traveled in every state and territory of the Union; and
while with us he was making his fourth voyage across the Atlantic. He
was a fairly decent looking chap, big hearted and generous.
"The Cockney" was, without a doubt, the most broken down piece of
humanity I have ever seen. Born in England, he emigrated to the States
in the early seventies, since then he had been in Baltimore, begging,
and, I presume, stealing whatever came in his way. He was a bony, puny,
yellow complexioned fellow, with black piercing eyes and dark hair. He
was an inveterate cigarette smoker, besides being death on any kind of
intoxicating drinks, from the raw alcohol down.
"Willie off the Yacht" was a character worthy of study. I knew by his
speech and manners that he was not an ordinary individual. By close
questioning I found out something of his past, though he was extremely
shy about referring to anything concerning the bygone days. Born in a
little inland town of Maryland, the son of a poor man, he prepared for
college by push and perseverance.
Believing that New York offered many opportunities for a lawyer, he
decided to practice there. Within ten years he had a law practice which
brought him annually a comfortable income. Seven years later he drew
from his bank a sum which represented the savings of years, and with
this he began to play the wheel of chance. As fate would have it, he
lost. Disappointed and heart sick, he drifted to the bad, and from bad
to worse until he became nothing but a mere hobo with an alcoholic
brain and parched lungs.
On the thirteenth day out we sighted land on the Irish coast, and I
can truthfully say it looked good to me and was a welcome sight to
all aboard. As we traveled onward we could see the land more plainly
until at last we were able to sight distinctly three mountains, in bold
outline against the sky, the Calf, the Cow, and the Bull.
We steamed along the Irish coast for several hundred miles and old
castles dotted along the hilltops and sides overlooking the sea were
refreshing sights. In the afternoon, about five o'clock, we unloaded
our cattle three miles from Liverpool and by eleven we were docked.
In Europe! Goodness, it seemed like a dream to think that what we had
always longed for had become a reality. At Liverpool we rested a few
days, and "stall fed" till we were in trim; then we put out to see what
there was to be seen on the other side of the pond.
It would be useless for me to attempt to describe everything of
interest we saw for the sights have been described half a hundred times
over by others. At any rate, there was very little we missed, for we
were all very energetic, and if there was anything to see we certainly
were not going to miss it.
In short, we spent some months in Europe, prowling around in England,
Wales, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Russia, Austria, Italy, Switzerland,
France, Belgium and Holland. We had the grandest time of our fair young
lives, and after the tramp we were ready to return to our native land.
A few months later found me back in the States, penniless from my
sojourn in Europe, eager to get home in contemplation of a hurried
preparation for the University. The return trip was not so disagreeable
in that there were no cattle to care for and an occasional bask in the
sun on deck, with an abundance of literature in my bunk, the time was
whiled away very pleasantly. The day after arriving in Newport News
found me in Norfolk.
I waited till night for the purpose of swinging the nine o'clock blind
baggage. I loitered around the station in the afternoon, in the mean
time finding out all I possibly could concerning the different trains
that leave Norfolk. Along about half after eight it began to rain and
by nine o'clock it was pouring. I was sitting on the inside of the
station when the "train yeller" announced the departing train.
The rain was coming down in torrents, and the night was a fearfully
dark one, so I had no trouble whatever in getting on the blind baggage
without being observed.
I crawled up on the platform and lay flat, keeping as close to the
baggage door as I could for the rain had already drenched me to the
skin even in the few moments I had lain there waiting for the train to
pull out.
We were soon off and I lay on the platform, drenched to the skin. It
was rather late, and then, too, on account of the inclemency of the
weather, there were only a few people around the country stations so I
felt secure in my position.
About an hour after we had departed from Portsmouth we steamed into the
little town of Wilson, and there I would have been caught had I not
been just a bit faster than that rural constable.
It had not rained at Wilson and there were a great many people gathered
at the station. As the train pulled up to the station people were
walking on either side of the track, up and down, and it was almost
impossible for me to escape observance as the lamps from the station
were shining brightly, thus bringing me in full view of the people
loitering thereabouts.
The train had hardly arrived when a young fellow and his girl came
walking along and on seeing me he remarked, "Oh, look at the tramp."
I could have pounded him, but under the circumstances I thought it
best for me to keep quiet and say nothing. This I did, but before I
knew what had happened a policeman came up by the side of the train
and made an attempt to nab me. I was too fast for the old boy; just as
he was aiming to lay hands on me, I scrambled for the other side and
jumped from the platform. I made a bee line down the dark track and
plunged off into the bushes. He pursued, but all in vain for I was a
little too fleet of foot for him. I lay there in the bushes for only a
few minutes, and when the train came by I swung the blind baggage and
was again on my way. This time the engineer saw me swing aboard and at
the next station I was ejected from my position by the flagman. The
train was so closely watched I found it quite impossible to gain my
seat again. I was put off, away out in the lonely woods and everything
around was as dark as pitch. The only thing looming up in the darkness
was a little station building which sat by the side of the track.
After feeling my way around in the darkness for some time I finally
found a flat car loaded with big sewer pipes, and into one of these I
crawled, where I remained for the night. Shortly after I had taken up
my abode in this peculiar sleeping quarter it began to rain furiously,
but I was protected from the terrific downpour, happier in my tunnel
than Jonah in his whale. I did not sleep much for my clothes had been
drenched in the early part of the evening, and I was shivering from
cold throughout the night.
It was a broken rest, but when I emerged from my quarters the following
morning, I must confess I did feel just a wee bit better.
On examining the contents of my purse, I found that I was the possessor
of exactly forty cents. Nearby was a small country store, and there I
purchased breakfast, which consisted of apples and sweet cakes. This
left me with the fabulous sum of thirty cents, so I began to figure out
how I could manage to get home on that. I walked into the station and
purchased a ticket to the next stop, a distance of seven miles. The
express was due at ten forty so I had only a few moments to wait. When
the train came to a standstill I entered the coach, took my seat, and
sat there awaiting the conductor.
I had purchased a ticket for only seven miles, but it was my intention
to stay on just as long as the conductor did not notice it, so
presently he came in, collected my ticket, and at the same time
remarked, "I believe this ticket carries you to Roundville." I did not
speak, but merely nodded a reply. The station master had evidently
put him wise to my game, so I saw the jig was all up for me. When
we reached the next station, the conductor looked in the coach and
yelled, "All out for Roundville." I immediately arose from my seat and
before the train had fairly stopped I jumped from the platform, on the
side opposite the station, and ran along the track unobserved to the
baggage car, where I boarded the blind.
There I rode for several miles and at the next stop I alighted.
In this village I spent the day. I passed the time chopping wood for
an old lady, who gave me food in recompense for my work. That night I
caught the nine o'clock local. Everything went well until we struck a
big grade going down the mountain side, and when descending at a rapid
speed the fire box of the engine fell out, and I was almost literally
covered with coals from the engine as they were positively sifted on me.
As soon as the engineer discovered what had taken place he brought the
big monster to a standstill on the side of the slope.
As fate would have it, it had been raining considerably that night, and
there were great pools of water by the side of the track, so before the
train came to a full stop I jumped from my position and rolled over by
the side of the track in the cold water, for already my garments had
begun to burn, and in two or three places the coals had eaten through
the clothing and blistered the flesh, which was horribly tormenting.
This drenching in the water soon put out the fire on my clothes, but
I lay there to make certain. When the train halted I was lying in the
gully by the side of the last coach, so near that I could plainly hear
the inquiries of the passengers as to the cause of the delay. There in
the water I remained some five minutes, and then I got up and stole
quietly along the side of the coaches to the engine. The men were still
working on the fire bin, so, to avoid discovery, I concealed myself in
the bushes by the side of the track. We were there fully half an hour,
and during that time I thought I would surely freeze, for my clothes
were drenched, and there was no possible means to dry them.
The engineer and the fireman soon adjusted the bin and it was not long
before we were on our way. It was now about midnight and there was only
the station master at each of the little stations, so I was not so
likely to be discovered. I rode on quietly until the flagman came to
give the engineer some orders, and he could not help seeing me, for I
was stretched across the platform, over which he had to pass on his way
to the engine.
He saw me when he opened the door of the baggage car. I raised up and
as I did he told me that I would have to get off at the next stop. I
assured him that I would, and at the next station, before the train had
come to a standstill, and before he came out to see that I did get off,
I jumped from the train and ran along by the side of the track in front
of the engine. I ran down the track for about one hundred yards, and
concealed myself in the bushes.
I waited only a moment when the train rolled by. With one grand plunge
I grabbed the rail of the baggage car and swung myself to position.
The baggage clerk was standing in the door of the car and he saw
me get on, so within a few moments the conductor came out and said
that I would have to get off. He added that if I did not get off he
would place me under arrest and turn me over to authorities at the
next station. I told him that I would, but before we reached the next
station I crawled up on the coal car and buried myself in the coal, out
of the view of anyone. I literally buried myself in the bin and dropped
off to sleep, for I was so exhausted I could hardly hold open my eyes.
How long I slept I knew not, but when I awoke I know that everything
around was just as hard black as could be.
[Illustration: "When I Awoke I Knew that Everything Around was as Hard
Black."
(_Wanderlust._)]
On awaking, I felt a horrible sensation of not being able to move, and
I was not long in discovering that I had been buried deeper in coal,
which had been emptied in on top of me from an elevated shoot at a
station where we had stopped to take on coal and water.
There must have been a pretty good coat of coal covering me for I
scrambled and fought for some time before I was able to free myself
from the uncomfortable position.
We arrived at Danville at daybreak and as the engine pulled into the
yards I dropped off and walked down the track where I found a water
spigot and there I bathed face and hands. Half an hour I spent trying
to get the coal dust out of the pores of my skin, eyes and ears.
A river runs right through the railroad centre of the town, thus
dividing the passenger and the freight yards. A hugely constructed
bridge spans this stream, so I proceeded to the freight yards and
there I was successful in getting one of the local freight conductors
to allow me to work my way to Greensboro, a town en route home. I was
informed the train would not leave till nine thirty.
Two hours at my disposal, I decided to spend it as profitably and
pleasantly as possible. Walking over to the bank of the river, where
there were tied scores of little boats, I unfastened one and shortly
was smoothly gliding down the river. When I had floated to the
outskirts of the town, I pulled into the bank and hitched my boat,
undressed and took a cool plunge. I dried myself on the underclothes
and then threw them to the currents. Realizing it was too much of a job
to paddle that boat back up the stream, I left it tied fast and hit up
a lively pace for the freight yards.
Before leaving Danville, I placed a note in one of the neighboring
boats advising the owner of the whereabouts of the borrowed one.