At length the boat was calked, tarred, and painted.
One evening as Annie entered the workshop, she heard Curly cry,
"Here she is, Alec!"
and Alec answer,
"Let her come. I'm just done."
Alec stood at the stern of the boat, with a pot in one hand, and a
paint-brush in the other; and, when Annie came near, she discovered to
her surprise, and not a little to her delight, that he was just
finishing off the last E of "THE BONNIE ANNIE."
"There," said he, "that's her name. Hoo de ye like it, Annie?"
Annie was too much pleased to reply. She looked at it for a while with
a flush on her face: and then turning away, sought her usual seat on
the heap of spales.
How much that one winter, with its dragons and its heroes, its
boat-building and its rhymes, its discomforts at home and its
consolations abroad, its threats of future loss, and comforts of
present hope, had done to make the wild country child into a thoughtful
little woman!
Now who should come into the shop at the moment but Thomas Crann!--the
very man of all men not to be desired on the occasion; for the boys had
contemplated a certain ceremony of christening, which they dared not
carry out in the presence of the stone-mason; without which, however,
George Macwha was very doubtful whether the little craft would prove a
lucky one.--By common understanding they made no allusion to the
matter, thus postponing it for the present.
"Ay! ay! Alec," said Thomas; "sae yer boat's bigget at last!"
He stood contemplating it for a moment, not without some hardly
perceptible signs of admiration, and then said:
"Gin ye had her out upon a muckle water, do ye think ye wad jump oot
ower the side o' her, gin the Saviour tauld ye, Alec Forbes?"
"Ay wad I, gin I war richt sure he wantit me."
"Ye wad stan' an' parley wi' him, nae doot?"
"I bude (behoved) to be richt sure it was his ain sel', ye ken, an'
that he did call me."
"Ow ay, laddie! That's a' richt. Weel, I houp ye wad. I aye had guid
houps o' ye, Alec, my man. But there may be sic a thing as loupin' into
the sea o' life oot o' the ark o' salvation; an' gin ye loup in whan he
doesna call ye, or gin ye getna a grip o' his han', whan he does, ye're
sure to droon, as sure's ane o' the swine that ran heedlong in and
perished i' the water."
Alec had only a dim sense of his meaning, but he had faith that it was
good, and so listened in respectful silence. Surely enough of sacred as
well as lovely sound had been uttered over the boat to make her
faithful and fortunate!
The hour arrived at length when _The Bonnie Annie_ was to be launched.
It was one of a bright Saturday afternoon, in the month of May, full of
a kind of tearful light, which seemed to say: "Here I am, but I go
to-morrow!" Yet though there might be plenty of cold weather to come,
though the hail might; fall in cart-loads, and the snow might lie thick
for a day or two, there would be no more frozen waters, and the boughs
would be bare and desolate no more. A few late primroses were peeping
from the hollows damp with moss and shadow along the banks, and the
trees by the stream were in small young leaf. There was a light wind
full of memories of past summers and promises for the new one at hand,
one of those gentle winds that blow the eyes of the flowers open, that
the earth may look at the heaven. In the midst of this baby-waking of
the world, the boat must glide into her new life.
Alec got one of the men on the farm to _yoke a horse_ to bring the boat
to the river. With the help of George she was soon placed in the cart,
and Alec and Curly got in beside her. The little creature looked very
much like a dead fish, as she lay jolting in the hot sun, with a motion
irksome to her delicate sides, her prow sticking awkwardly over the
horse's back, and her stern projecting as far beyond the cart behind.
Thus often is the human boat borne painfully to the stream on which
thereafter it shall glide contentedly through and out of the world.
When they had got about half-way, Alec said to Curly:
"I wonner what's come o' Annie, Curly? It wad be a shame to lainch the
boat wantin' her."
"Deed it wad. I s' jist rin and luik after her, an' ye can luik efter
the boat."
So saying, Curly was out of the cart with a bound. Away he ran over a
field of potatoes, straight as the crow flies, while the cart went
slowly on towards the Glamour.
"Whaur's Annie Anderson?" he cried, as he burst into Robert Bruce's
shop.
"What's _your_ business?" asked the Bruce--a question which evidently
looked for no answer.
"Alec wants her."
"Weel, he will want her," retorted Robert, shutting his jaws with a
snap, and grinning a smileless grin from ear to ear, like the steel
clasp of a purse. By such petty behaviour he had long ago put himself
on an equality with the young rascals generally, and he was no match
for them on their own level.
Curly left the shop at once, and went round by the close into the
garden, where he found Annie loitering up and down with the baby in her
arms, and looking very weary. This was in fact the first time she had
had to carry the baby, and it fatigued her dreadfully. Till now Mrs
Bruce had had the assistance of a ragged child, whose father owed them
money for groceries: he could not pay it, and they had taken his
daughter instead. Long ago, however, she had slaved it out, and had at
length gone back to school. The sun was hot, the baby was heavy, and
Annie felt all arms and back--they were aching so with the unaccustomed
drudgery. She was all but crying when Curly darted to the gate, his
face glowing with his run, and his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Come, Annie," cried he; "we're gaein' to lainch the boat."
"I canna, Curly; I hae the bairn to min'."
"Tak the bairn in til 'ts mither."
"I daurna."
"Lay't doon o' the table, an' rin."
"Na, na, Curly; I cudna do that. Puir little crater!"
"Is the beastie heavy?" asked Curly, with deceitful interest.
"Dreadfu'."
"Lat's try."
"Ye'll lat her fa'."
"Deed no. I'm no sae fusionless (pithless). Gie's a haud o' her."
Annie yielded her charge; but no sooner had Curly possession of the
baby, than he bounded away with her out of the garden into the back
yard adjoining the house. Now in this yard, just opposite the
kitchen-window, there was a huge sugar-cask, which, having been
converted into a reservoir, stood under a spout, and was at this moment
half full of rain-water. Curly, having first satisfied himself that Mrs
Bruce was at work in the kitchen, and therefore sure to see him,
mounted a big stone that lay beside the barrel, and pretended to lower
the baby into the water, as if trying how much she would endure with
equanimity. In a moment, he received such a box on the ear that, had he
not been prepared for it, he would in reality have dropped the child
into the barrel. The same moment the baby was in its mother's arms, and
Curly sitting at the foot of the barrel, nursing his head, and
pretending to suppress a violent attack of weeping. The angry mother
sped into the house with her rescued child.
No sooner had she disappeared than Curly was on his feet scudding back
to Annie, who had been staring over the garden-gate in utter
bewilderment at his behaviour. She could no longer resist his
entreaties: off she ran with him to the banks of the Glamour, where
they soon came upon Alec and the man in the act of putting the boat on
the slip, which, in the present instance, was a groove hollowed out of
a low part of the bank, so that she might glide in more gradually.
"Hurrah! There's Annie!" cried Alec.--"Come awa', Annie. Here's a glass
o' whisky I got frae my mither to kirsten the boat. Fling't at the name
o' her."
Annie did as she was desired, to the perfect satisfaction of all
present, particularly of the long, spare, sinewy farm-servant, who had
contrived, when Alec's back was turned, to swallow the whisky and
substitute Glamour water, which no doubt did equally well for the
purposes of the ceremony. Then with a gentle push from all, the _Bonnie
Annie_, slid into the Glamour, where she lay afloat in contented grace,
as unlike herself in the cart as a swan waddling wearily to the water
is unlike the true swan-self when her legs have no longer to support
her weight, but to oar her along through the friendly upholding
element.
"Isna she bonnie?" cried Annie in delight.
And indeed she was bonnie, in her green and white paint, lying like a
great water-beetle ready to scamper over the smooth surface. Alec
sprang on board, nearly upsetting the tiny craft. Then he held it by a
bush on the bank while Curly handed in Annie, who sat down in the
stern. Curly then got in himself, and Alec and him seized each an oar.
But what with their inexperience and the nature of the channel, they
found it hard to get along. The river was full of great stones, making
narrow passages, so that, in some parts, it was not possible to row.
They knew nothing about the management of a boat, and were no more at
ease than if they had been afloat in a tub. Alec being stronger in the
arms than Curly, they went round and round for some time, as if in a
whirlpool, with a timeless and grotesque spluttering and sprawling. At
last they gave it up in weariness, and allowed the _Bonnie Annie_ to
float along the stream, taking care only to keep her off the rocks.
Past them went the banks--here steep and stony, but green with moss
where little trickling streams found their way into the channel; there
spreading into low alluvial shores, covered with lovely grass, starred
with daisies and buttercups, from which here and there rose a willow,
whose low boughs swept the water. A little while ago, they had skated
down its frozen surface, and had seen a snowy land shooting past them;
now with an unfelt gliding, they floated down, and the green meadows
dreamed away as if they would dream past them for ever.--Suddenly, as
they rounded the corner of a rock, a great roar of falling water burst
on their ears, and they started in dismay,
"The sluice is up!" cried Alec. "Tak' to yer oar, Curly."
Along this part of the bank, some twenty feet above them, ran a
mill-race, which a few yards lower down communicated by means of a
sluice with the river. This sluice was now open, for, from the late
rains, there was too much water; and the surplus rushed from the race
into the Glamour in a foaming cataract. Annie seeing that the boys were
uneasy, got very frightened, and, closing her eyes, sat motionless.
Louder and louder grew the tumult of the waters, till their sound
seemed to fall in a solid thunder on her brain. The boys tried hard to
row against the stream, but without avail. Slowly and surely it carried
them down into the very heart of the boiling fall; for on this side
alone was the channel deep enough for the boat, and the banks were too
steep and bare to afford any hold. At last, the boat drifting stern
foremost, a torrent of water struck Annie, and tumbled into the boat as
if it would beat out the bottom of it. Annie was tossed about in fierce
waters, and ceased to know anything. When she came to herself, she was
in an unknown bed, with the face of Mrs Forbes bending anxiously over
her. She would have risen, but Mrs Forbes told her to lie still, which
indeed Annie found much more pleasant.
As soon as they got under the fall the boat had filled and foundered.
Alec and Curly could swim like otters, and were out of the pool at
once. As they went down, Alec had made a plunge to lay hold of Annie,
but had missed her. The moment he got his breath, he swam again into
the boiling pool, dived, and got hold of her; but he was so stupefied
by the force of the water falling upon him and beating him down, that
he could not get out of the raging depth--for here the water was many
feet deep--and as he would not leave his hold of Annie, was in danger
of being drowned. Meantime Curly had scrambled on shore and climbed up
to the mill-race, where he shut down the sluice hard. In a moment the
tumult had ceased, and Alec and Annie were in still water. In a moment
more he had her on the bank, apparently lifeless, whence he carried her
home to his mother in terror. She immediately resorted to one or two of
the usual restoratives, and was presently successful.
As soon as she had opened her eyes, Alec and Curly hurried off to get
out their boat. They met the miller in an awful rage; for the sudden
onset of twice the quantity of water on his overshot wheel, had set his
machinery off as if it had been bewitched, and one old stone, which had
lost its iron girdle, had flown in pieces, to the frightful danger of
the miller and his men.
"Ye ill-designed villains!" cried he at a venture, "what gart ye close
the sluice? I s' learn ye to min' what ye're aboot. Deil tak' ye for
rascals!"
And he seized one in each brawny hand.
"Annie Anderson was droonin' aneath the waste-water," answered Curly
promptly.
"The Lord preserve 's!" said the miller, relaxing his hold "Hoo was
that? Did she fa' in?"
The boys told him the whole story. In a few minutes more the back-fall
was again turned off, and the miller was helping them to get their boat
out. The _Bonnie Annie_ was found uninjured. Only the oars and
stretchers had floated down the stream, and were never heard of again.
Alec had a terrible scolding from his mother for getting Annie into
such mischief. Indeed Mrs Forbes did not like the girl's being so much
with her son; but she comforted herself with the probability that by
and by Alec would go to college, and forget her. Meantime, she was very
kind to Annie, and took her home herself, in order to excuse her
absence, the blame of which she laid entirely on Alec, not knowing that
thereby she greatly aggravated any offence of which Annie might have
been guilty. Mrs Bruce solemnly declared her conviction that a judgment
had fallen upon her for Willie Macwha's treatment of her baby.
"Gin I hadna jist gotten a glimp o' him in time, he wad hae drooned the
bonny infant afore my verra een. It's weel waured on them!"
It did not occur to her that a wet skin was so very moderate a
punishment for child-murder, that possibly there had been no connection
between them.
This first voyage of the _Bonnie Annie_ may seem a bad beginning; but I
am not sure that most good ends have not had such a bad beginning.
Perhaps the world itself may be received as a case in point. Alec and
Curly went about for a few days with a rather subdued expression. But
as soon as the boat was refitted, they got George Macwha to go with
them for cockswain; and under his instructions, they made rapid
progress in rowing and sculling. Then Annie was again their companion,
and, the boat being by this time fitted with a rudder, had several
lessons in steering, in which she soon became proficient. Many a
moonlight row they had on the Glamour; and many a night after Curly and
Annie had gone home, would Alec again unmoor the boat, and drop down
the water alone, letting the banks go dreaming past him--not always
sure that he was not dreaming himself, and would not suddenly awake and
find himself in his bed, and not afloat between heaven and earth, with
the moon above and the moon below him. I think it was in these seasons
that he began first to become aware of a certain stillness pervading
the universe like a law; a stillness ever being broken by the cries of
eager men, yet ever closing and returning with gentleness not to be
repelled, seeking to infold and penetrate with its own healing the
minds of the noisy children of the earth. But he paid little heed to
the discovery then, for he was made for activity, and in activity he
found his repose.