THE BOYS CONSCIOUS OF HIGHER AIMS.
Those luxurious boys, not satisfied with eating soft bread, lolling
in their new chairs, bathing and frisking in the blue waters of the
Mediterranean, resolved to sleep in the Bird's Nest, as they had
christened the structure in the tree. This was a plan of Ned, who
proposed taking their beds up into the tree and sleeping there.
"Don't let us sleep on that old straw, but throw it away and get some
fresh," said Walter; "though, upon second thoughts, I don't know where
we should get it. These peasants only raise rye, and rye straw is too
hard, only fit for stuffing horse collars. Let us get moss and beech
leaves, Ned; the old leaves that have fallen off will be just the
thing, only dry them."
"So we will."
"I'll tell you what I've been thinking of. Wonder I didn't think of it
before."
"Let's hear."
"We've been here some time, little or nothing to do, and have not been
fifty rods from the beach. Suppose before two days there should come
a gale of wind, a real snorter, set the blockading fleet a flying,
everything head over heels, and it is, up topgallant-mast, send up
topgallant and royal yards, mast-head the topsail, man the windlass,
up anchor and away for Marseilles. By and by we get home. Charlie
Bell and Captain Rhines say (as I know they will), 'Well, boys, have
you seen any place you like better than home? What kind of land is
it? What crops do they grow? Did the people seem happy, and do they
live any better or know any more than we do? Do they live by farming,
fishing, lumbering, or manufacturing? Are they any better off since
they killed their king and a good part of their aristocracy than they
were before?' We should have to scratch our heads, and say, 'We don't
know; had plenty of time, but didn't go anywhere.' 'What did you do
with yourselves,' they will ask. 'We made a nest in the top of a tree,
took our beds up, and slept there; made chairs, sat there, talked, and
went a fishing.'"
"Don't say any more, Walter. I'm sure you've made it out bad enough."
"Then, perhaps, they would think, if they didn't say it, that it was
rather small business for a mate of a vessel who wanted to be master,
and a young fellow who wanted to be mate, and had run the broadside of
a hundred gun ship, and been twice wounded, to be spending all their
time building birds' nests: better leave that to the birds, and set
about the business they were made for."
"Come, grandfather," replied Ned, patting Walter's cheek, "just leave
that alone; this nest is not without its use. We must have some place
for a lookout to watch the fleet: and, were it not for this, the
captain would have to go the best part of a mile to a hill. These
chairs are a real comfort to him, as well as to us. I'm sure it is
our duty to do anything we can for him, who is so good to us, and
puts us ahead. A fellow must have some fun to oil the wheels and make
everything run smooth; besides, _grandpa_, you will be obliged to
allow, that if I first thought of making the nest, you have put ten
times the work in it I ever intended doing; and I'm sure the chairs
were all your own getting up; and now you want to get moss to fill beds
with."
"There, you've said enough, you little monkey."
"I think this nice warm climate, just like May, makes anybody feel lazy
and shiftless. Only think, Wal, at home, now, they are all covered up
in snow, icicles hanging from the cattle's noses, and big roaring fires
in the houses; and here I saw yesterday, right on the side of that
little knoll, strawberries in blossom."
"I guess you're right, Ned," said Walter, stretching himself; "and that
is just as our Joe is always saying--the frost puts the grit in."
"I guess so, for there don't seem to be much grit in the folks here; it
seems as though the women did half the work."
"Let us ask the captain, Ned, for liberty to go and take a look at the
country; then we can get information, and something to fill our beds
with, besides having a good time--pleasure and profit, youngster."
"Where shall we sleep; out doors?"
"Yes; take a blanket (the weather is warm), just to keep the dew off."
"And we can carry provisions?"
"Yes, and fireworks."
"I should like that; it would be something like what we were going to
do at Pleasant Cove, when uncle Isaac was hurt. I never was in the
woods; always have been either at school or at sea."
"I don't think you'll find much woods, I can't see from the tree any
that I should call woods. There seems to be as much about this oven as
anywhere, and I suppose that was left to shelter and conceal the harbor
for the smugglers."
"I tell you, Walter, 'twill seem real nice, after being penned up
aboard ship, to lie down under a tree, stretch out, loll about, no
'anchor watch,' don't care whether school keeps or not, even if you
don't do any more than that."
"There's a roll of canvas under my berth. I'll ask the captain to give
us enough to make a couple of packs."
Having obtained the canvas, needles, and twine, they were soon in the
Bird's Nest, sewing and talking over their proposed tramp. They invited
Jacques to make one of the party; but he was about to return and resume
his employment of fishing, and in the mean time keep watch of the
English fleet, and pick up any information that was valuable, until his
services should be again required as pilot.
Walter sent Ned to the captain for liberty, which he not only gave
cheerfully, but added, "There's nothing to be done; you may stay as
long as you like; only be sure, if you see any change in the weather,
to hurry aboard."
Ned, delighted, thanked the captain most enthusiastically.
"You know, Ned," said he, "you have not enjoyed much for a boy. You've
never had a great deal of boyhood, you were kept at school very closely
by your parents, then went to sea, was cast away. When you got over
that, went right off again, was wounded, suffered a great deal, and
then was disappointed in respect to the good time you were reckoning
upon at Pleasant Cove with Mr. Murch and Walter. Now you are a right
down good boy, Ned, and I hope you will enjoy yourself, for nobody can
tell what will befall us next."
Having set out at sunrise, they travelled till noon, and after gaining
the summit of a high hill, lay down beneath a tree to rest. Their life
on shipboard had entirely unfitted them for walking; the strap of the
packs cut their shoulders, and they were thirsty, for the dry, barren
plains of Provence afforded no water: they were extremely fatigued.
After stretching themselves at full length upon the ground to rest,
not caring whether school kept or not, they went in quest of water, and
at last came to a place where a very little trickled from a seam in the
ledge, but was evaporated by the hot sun, nearly as fast as it ran,
barely moistening the rock.
"What shall we do, Walter?"
"I'll show you."
He broke some branches from a clump of pine bushes, set them against
the rock, then sat down with Ned under them. The bushes kept off the
sun, and the water, no longer evaporating, collected in a little cavity
of the rock, and they were bountifully supplied. Opening their packs,
they began to eat with the greatest relish.
"We're all right now, Wal!" said Ned.
"I shall be when I get this junk of beef down. It came from Elm
Island--Lion Ben's old brindled ox. Only see the fat on it!--that goes
to the right place, Ned. I call this rather a poor, mean country; the
soil seems to be a hungry gravel, all burnt up; scarcely any wood."
"I suppose they don't need a great deal, only a little to cook with,
the weather is so warm."
"The captain says they have cold winds in the spring, from the
mountains, and hail and snow--hail enough sometimes to kill sheep and
destroy the whole crop."
They now resumed their packs and went on, chatting and making their
observations in respect to the land and the peasants whom they saw at
work in the fields.
"Where do these people live?" asked Ned. "I don't see a house, although
there are plenty of fields, and people at work in them. Only see the
women shovelling sand and picking up rocks! As I live, if there ain't a
horse and jackass working together!"
"Look over there," said Walter; "see those oxen, the yoke lashed to
their horns."
"Wonder where they cut any hay!" said Ned; "don't see any
mowing-fields."
"I don't suppose they need much; they have no snow to lie, and the
cattle graze all winter."
"I should think so, by the looks of them."
"O, Ned, what kind of a tree is that, with those rough things on the
branches? Let's go and see. Why, it's a chestnut! Here are some just
such as they sell in the stores."
"Why, Walter, didn't you ever see a chestnut tree before?"
"No; they don't grow our way; only walnuts and butternuts."
"There's plenty of them in Massachusetts. But what are all these stone
walls built round the sides of the hills for? and what is that growing
on them?"
"Vines; I've seen those in Spain."
"But how do they ever get any manure up there?"
"Lug it on their backs in baskets."
"I guess this land must all belong to one man, for I don't see any
division fences; only once in a while a ditch, or a little pile of
stones. He must have an everlasting sight of land, for I can't see any
house. What kind of a tree is that with pale green leaves?"
"An olive."
"Is that what they make oil from, Walter?"
"Yes."
"And that one next to it?"
"A fig tree."
"How do you know?"
"Jacques showed me one at Marseilles, last voyage, in a garden."
"And these others?"
"I don't know what they are."
"I think it's queer. Here are pines, beeches, and ash, just such as we
have at home, and olives and figs growing right among them. I don't
see, when we get all the rest, why we can't have the olives and figs."
They now ascended a hill, and, upon reaching the summit, looked down
upon a vale, which presented so striking a contrast to the dry and
barren soil they had passed over as to cause them to exclaim, "How
beautiful!"
It was indeed a lovely spot. The place itself, the productions of
the earth, and surrounding scenery, were so entirely different from
anything the boys had ever witnessed, that they remained for some
moments lost in silent wonder. It was sheltered from the mountain
blasts by hills, whose sides were terraced and covered with vines.
Skirting the base of the hills, on the north side, flowed a broad, deep
brook, from which the water, conducted in canals in all directions,
watered the whole vale. Not a fence, ditch, or hedge marred the
beautiful harmony of the picture, where the soil, abundantly watered,
sheltered, and beneath a fervid sun, manifested an exuberance unknown
in more northern climes.
"Look, Walter. I see the spire of a church, or something that looks
like it, between those two hills."
"Yes; I see it. Those people seem very kind. Let us go and have a talk
with that old man who is at work at the foot of that tree with such a
lot round him; all the family, I guess. You speak to him, Ned."
Walter knew that the French he had learned from the exiles at
Salem was quite different from the patois of Provence, being the
language of cultivated society, whereas Ned had picked his up from
Peterson, Jacques, and Mr. Bell, and it was the very dialect of this
locality,--the dialects, in different parts of France, differing almost
as much as the climate. Walter had also learned many words from the
same source as Ned.
"I'll speak to him; I can talk their lingo first rate now; but let us
sit down and rest a while."
"I'm real tired; where shall we sleep to-night?"
"Under that high cliff, the other side of the valley; and we can drink
from the brook. I see some trees there, and we can make our fire right
under them, drive a stake into some crevice, hang our kettle, and have
a cup of tea."
"Think we couldn't get some milk of those folks, Wal?"
"I expect it would be goat's milk, if we did."
"Goat's milk is first rate, I tell you. We had two goats aboard the
Madras."
"Perhaps it is; but it always seemed to me that it must taste just as a
goat smells."
"O, Wal, what a boy you are! Who ever heard of tasting a smell?"
"I don't care. There's a mighty difference between a cow and a goat. A
cow's breath is as sweet as a rose."