THE RETURN TO BENZEOR'S HOUSE
THERE were several motives in the mind of Little Peter which made him
eager to overtake Ted and the fat and kicking Jeshurun, not the least of
which was the sense of protection he felt in the presence of the
powerful man. Boyish as Ted was in many ways, his great size and
wonderful physical strength made him a companion to be desired in the
midst of such dangers as the troubled lad was compelled to face in those
sad times in Old Monmouth.
Accordingly, Little Peter ran eagerly forward, hoping to overtake Ted
before he should arrive at Benzeor's house, which now was not more than
two miles away. Long before he came within sight of the place, he
discovered Ted and his steed in advance of him, and from their
motionless attitude he quickly concluded that Jeshurun had been seized
with another attack of obstinacy.
His surmise proved to be correct, and as he came nearer he beheld Ted
seated by the roadside holding Jeshurun's bridle in his hand, and
apparently waiting patiently for the time when the little beast should
decide to continue his journey.
"I'm glad to see you, lad," remarked Ted, as Little Peter approached. "I
left you rather suddenly back there, but when Jesh makes up his mind to
start, it's time for me to go, too, and I can't always stop to say
good-by to my friends. It's easier than walkin', though, but I wish I
knew some way to fix the little rascal. I've been thinkin' as how, if
Jeshurun kicked when he waxed fat, it might be that if he waxed thin,
the kickin' would go, too, along with the fatness. I say, Little Peter,
I want to ask ye a question."
"All right, Ted, go ahead," replied Little Peter, as he fanned his
dripping face with his hat and took a seat beside his companion.
"In your opinion," said Ted soberly, "is the oyster a wild animal, or a
tame one?"
"What?"
"Is the oyster a wild animal or a tame one? Maybe you don't think he's
an animal at all, only just an insect; but my opinion is that he's an
animal, and what I'd like to know is whether he's wild or tame."
"He isn't savage, anyway," remarked Little Peter demurely.
"I'm not talkin' about whether he's savage or not, but whether he's wild
or tame. That's been a-botherin' me a good bit, and I just can't find
any answer. Whoa! Whoa there, Jesh! What's the matter with ye? If ye
want to start on, I'm your man." These last remarks were directed at the
mule, which had begun to display some of the qualities of the famous
character for whom he had been named; but his owner's words served to
calm him, and Jeshurun soon stood in such an abject attitude that, to
one who was not familiar with his ways, wickedness and kicking would
never have been suspected of him.
"Maybe the oyster's a bird more than he is an insect," said Little
Peter. "When his shell is spread out it looks something like wings."
"No, he isn't a bird, he's a animal," said Ted, "and what I want to know
is whether he's a tame or a wild one."
"What do you want to know for?"
"Why, the way of it is this: Some time ago I planted an oyster-bed off
the mouth of the river, and the first thing I knew my neighbors was
a-helpin' themselves to it. When I said I didn't like that very much,
and those oysters was mine, all the men did was to laugh. Yes, sir, jest
laughed," repeated Ted, as if he felt aggrieved at the levity of his
neighbors. "Then, they went on to tell me that I couldn't plant oysters,
same as I did 'taties and things in my garden. Oysters was wild things
and belonged to anybody that found them, jest the same as turtles and
clams and wild geese did. I've been a-puzzlin' my head a good deal over
it, and I can't make it out. I planted them oysters for Sallie,--she's
my wife, ye know,--and as long as she had all she wanted of 'em, I
didn't care how much the neighbors helped themselves; but when it comes
to sayin' that them oysters I planted don't belong to me, but any one
can go and take all he wants, jest as if they was clams, or
gooseberries, or--or--or--saltwater, I don't know what to do about it.
What do you think, Little Peter?" he added anxiously.
"I don't know; I never thought of it before."
Absurd as the question appears to us, it was far from being so to the
people of Old Monmouth in the times of which we are writing. So warm
had the discussion become that it was soon after carried into the
courts, and in 1808 a case was tried before the supreme court, but no
definite decision was gained. In 1821 another famous trial was held, and
finally in 1858 the supreme court decided that oysters were both tame
and wild. Where they had grown naturally and without being planted, they
were to be considered as wild and the property of any one who chose to
take them; but where they had been planted, and there was no natural
growth, the oysters were "tame" and the property of the one who had made
the bed. Even after that decision there was trouble for a long time in
Old Monmouth over the question, although to-day it is generally accepted
that a man may own oysters as he does other animals.
"I'm sorry ye can't help me," said Ted.
"So am I, but I'm not thinking of oysters just now. I want to go up to
Benzeor Osburn's more than anything else."
"I'm with ye. We're so near, maybe Jeshurun will be willing to go, if he
doesn't have to carry me on his back. I'll try him and see."
To the surprise of both, Jeshurun appeared to be willing to resume the
journey and obediently followed Ted, who led him by the bridle rein
which he slipped over the mule's head.
In this wise they all walked on, but as they came nearer to the end of
their journey, conversation ceased. Little Peter was thinking of the
children and trying to devise some plan by which he might care for them.
What his companion's thoughts were did not appear, but the expression
upon his face had undergone a change, and from the occasional word he
dropped, which sounded very like "Hangin' Sallies," the lad thought he
knew what was going on in Ted's mind. What would occur if Benzeor should
be found at his home, Little Peter could not determine; but he felt
assured from Ted's manner that this time his neighbor would not escape
so easily as he had when the angry man had given him his involuntary
bath in the waters of the Shrewsbury River.
However, there was a deal of comfort for the lad in the company of his
powerful friend; and as Benzeor's little house now appeared in the
distance, he was more and more rejoiced that he was not compelled to
approach it alone. If Indian John's words were correct, Benzeor was not
there now; but it was more than possible that John had been mistaken,
or that the man had returned since his visit in the early morning.
These possibilities were sufficiently strong to increase Little Peter's
excitement, and when they turned into the lane which led up to the house
his heart was beating rapidly and his breathing was hard and fast. As he
glanced toward the place, he suddenly discovered some children playing
in the yard and instantly recognized two of them as his own little
brothers.
The children, then, were safe; and with a sigh of relief he turned to
his companion and said, "There are my little brothers! They're all
right, and so far it looks better."
"Hangin' Sallies!" muttered Ted; and Little Peter said no more, as he
perceived that his companion's rage over the treatment his wife had
received had returned with increased force.
Suddenly out from the barn beyond the house started two men on
horseback, riding directly down the lane toward them. Startled and
perplexed by the sight, both Little Peter and Ted stopped and waited for
the men to approach. If the lad had been alone he would instantly have
turned and fled without waiting to see who the strangers were; but
Ted's presence restrained him, and although he was thoroughly alarmed,
he waited with his companion.
As the horsemen came nearer he discovered that they were Barzilla
Giberson and Jacob Vannote, the two men who had been with Tom and
Benzeor on their voyage to New York just before Tom's departure from his
foster-father's home. Quickly recalling what Tom had reported of their
conversation at that time, the sight of them now did not tend to allay
his fears; but Ted's presence was a source of comfort, and, although he
was trembling in his excitement, he did not speak.
Barzilla instantly stopped his horse as he recognized Little Peter, and,
leaning forward on his horse's neck as he spoke, said, "Where's
Benzeor?"
"I don't know," replied Little Peter. "Isn't he here?"
"No, he isn't here. He came back last night, but he's gone again, and
the women folks pretend they don't know where he is. It's lucky for
him."
"What do you want of him?"
"You and he both will know more about that after we've found him,"
replied Barzilla, as he touched his horse with his spurs, and both men
rode swiftly down the lane and soon disappeared from sight up the road.
Little Peter told his companion of his suspicions as they resumed their
walk, and Ted quickly stopped, and, shaking his fist in the direction in
which the horsemen had disappeared, said, "Hangin' Sallies! Maybe I'd
better take after them, if I don't find Benzeor."
"No, no, Ted. Come on, we're almost here now."
They soon entered the yard, and as the children discovered the presence
of their brother they ran eagerly to him and threw themselves into his
arms.
"I want to go home. I want to go home. May we go home now?" said one of
them.
Little Peter's eyes filled with tears as he lifted the child in his arms
and said, "No, I'm afraid not. We haven't any home now."
"But I want to go home," persisted the little fellow pleadingly. "I
don't want to stay here any longer. I want to go home."
"Hasn't Benzeor been good to you?"
"Yes, but he isn't here. I want to go home. I want to go home."
Little Peter glanced up and saw that Ted's face was moving strangely,
and that the tears were streaming from his eyes. The powerful man had a
heart as tender as a woman's, and the piteous pleadings of the homeless,
motherless little lad were more than he could endure.
"Here, Little Peter!" said Ted hastily. "You go in the house, and I'll
look after the babies while you're gone. Here, my lads and lassies all!
Come take a ride on the back of Jeshurun."
In a moment the grief of the little ones was forgotten, and, laughing in
their delight, they were lifted upon the back of Jeshurun, who to all
appearances had suddenly become as mild and gentle as a lamb.
Little Peter glanced back at the laughing group as he started toward the
house, and then looking up beheld Sarah standing in the doorway. Her
face was red with weeping and she evidently was in great distress.
"Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Little Peter. "What's the trouble? What is it?"
"My father! My father!" sobbed Sarah, burying her face in her hands.
"What's happened to him? Is he killed? Is he dead?"
"No, no. It's worse than that."
"Worse than that? What do you mean?"
"Oh, Little Peter, don't _you_ know?" exclaimed the girl, looking up
again as she spoke.
Peter made no reply. He did not know just what it was to which Sarah
referred, and although he had his own suspicions, he did not feel that
he could refer to them in the presence of the troubled girl.
"Have you seen Tom?" said Sarah suddenly.
"No. He's in the army, I think, and I haven't been near that."
"You wouldn't have to go very far. They say they're both near here, and
that there either has been a battle or there will be one soon. I wish
Tom was here. If you see him, won't you tell him to come back just as
soon as he can?"
"Yes, if I see him. I don't know that I shall very soon, though. I don't
know what to do, Sarah. I came to see about the children."
"They're all right. They seem to be now, don't they?" she said, as a
burst of laughter came from the noisy group. "Perhaps you don't want to
leave them here now, though," she added, her eyes filling with tears
once more as she spoke. "I wish you would leave them. It isn't much we
can do for you, but we want to do what we can."
There was an intensity in Sarah's manner which Little Peter could not
understand. He was in ignorance of all that Sarah knew, and perhaps if
he had known his reply might have been somewhat different.
"It's good of you, Sarah. I don't know what to do or where to go."
"You can stay here, too."
"No, no. I can't do that," he said hastily; and then fearing that he had
said too much, added, "I'll leave the children for a little while.
They'll be safe here till after the battle you tell about."
"I wish you would, Peter. You couldn't please us better. Who's that man
with you?" she added, apparently for the first time becoming aware of
Ted's presence.
"A man to see your father," said Little Peter evasively. "Is he home?"
"No, no," and Sarah shuddered as she spoke. "He came last night, but he
didn't stay long. He went away again, and I don't know when he'll come
again. It'll be a long time. I hope"--
What Sarah hoped for she did not explain, and Little Peter said, "I
want to talk with Ted before I say anything more. He's the man out there
with the children. I'll be back in a minute."
Many minutes passed, however, before the lad returned. He called to Ted
and for a long time they talked together. Ted was decidedly averse to
the plan of leaving the children in Benzeor's home, and freely offered
to take them with him to the place where he had left Sallie and his own
little ones, also venturing to refer several times to the fact that
Sallie was his wife.
Pleased as Little Peter would have been to accept the offer, Sarah's
pleadings could not be forgotten, and as he felt that the children would
be safe where they then were, he declined the kind offer of Ted.
"I'll tell you what, my lad," said Ted at last. "If the armies are as
near here as the girl says they are, the thing for you and me to do is
to go over there. They may need us, too. The most I've done so far has
been to look out for that stuff the men brought up the Shrewsbury in the
supply boat. That's all in good hands now, and I'm free to go. Jesh will
be glad to go, too."
"But you can't leave Sallie and the babies."
"Yes, I can, too. Sallie's my wife, ye know, and when I took her over to
the Dennises I told her I might not be back for a week or two. She won't
be disappointed, and Jesh will be tickled to pieces to join the army.
Jest look at his ears now. When his ears is that way, I always know
Jeshurun wants to fight the Dutch butchers."
"We've no other place to go to, or at least I haven't," said Little
Peter thoughtfully. "Well, we'll do as you say. I'll go and tell Sarah."
"I'm so glad you'll leave the children," said Sarah eagerly, when Little
Peter reported the decision which had been made. "It isn't much we can
do, as I told you, but we do want to do everything we can for you."
"It's good of you to take them."
"It's good of you to leave them. There's one thing, though, I must tell
you. We haven't much to eat in the house. There's some meal over at the
mill, and father would have gone for it if he'd been home to-day. But he
isn't here and I don't know what we'll do."
"You'd like to have me go over there and get it, before we start," said
the boy. "Have you got your horses yet?"
"Yes, there are two in the barn, and you can take the heavy wagon. It's
kind of you to do it, Little Peter, but it won't take you long, and you
don't know how much it will help us just now."
"I'll go right away."
Little Peter turned and explained to Ted the cause of the delay. At
first, Ted insisted upon going with him, but as the lad explained that
only two hours would be required for the journey, he persuaded him to
remain.
In a few minutes the two horses had been led forth from the barn, and
hitched to the wagon ("geared" was what Ted called the task), and then
Little Peter mounted the seat, grasped the reins in his hands, and
turned down the lane, on what proved to be the most eventful ride in all
his life.