The next morning the _Mary_ commenced discharging her cargo. Captain
Dean then told me that he hoped I would sail with him, but that, as the
ship required a thorough repair, it would be some weeks before she could
be at sea again, and that in the meantime he would advise me to employ
myself usefully; and he recommended me to take a trip in a trader to
Halifax or Saint John's, for the sake of gaining information regarding
the navigation of those seas.
"A person who wishes to be a thorough sailor (and if a man is not a
thorough sailor he has no business to be an officer)," he observed,
"will seek every opportunity of making himself well acquainted with the
navigation of every sea he visits, the appearance of the coasts, the set
of the currents, the rise and fall of the tides, the prevailing winds,
and the weather to be expected at different seasons. He will go afloat
in every sort of craft, and be constantly considering how he would act
under all possible circumstances. He should never weary of making
inquiries of other seamen how they have acted, and the result of what
they have done. As navigation was not brought to the perfection it has
now attained under many centuries, so no man will become a perfect
seaman unless he diligently gathers together the information possessed
by all whom he meets, at the same time weighing well their opinions, and
adopting them after duly comparing them with others."
I have always remembered Captain Dean's advice, and I advise all young
sailors to follow it; indeed, it strikes me that it is applicable to
most relations in life.
I looked about for a vessel, but could not find one. Meantime, by the
captain's kindness, I remained on board, though he and Mary went to live
in lodgings on shore, as, of course, in the state the ship was in, she
could have no comfort even in her own cabin. About three or four days
after our arrival, I saw a ship ascend the river and come to an anchor
not far from where we were lying. Prompted by curiosity, I was looking
at her through a telescope, when I observed a group of people on the
deck who were gazing apparently with the curiosity of strangers at the
shore. A little apart from them stood a form I thought I recognised. I
pointed my glass steadily at him. I felt certain that I could not be
mistaken. It was Silas Flint. Then all on the raft, instead of
perishing, as it was supposed they would, might have been saved, as he
had escaped. I was truly glad, and, borrowing the dinghy from the mate,
I pulled on board the newly-arrived ship.
Silas--for I was right in my conjectures--was looking over the side as I
climbed up it. He almost wrung my hand off as he took it in his grasp.
"I am glad to see ye, I am, Peter!" he exclaimed. "Why, lad, I thought
you had gone to the bottom with all who remained on board."
I told him that we had in like manner fancied that all on the raft had
perished; and I was glad to find that, with the exception of two, all
had been picked up by the ship on board of which they then were. He
then asked me what my plans were, and I told him what Captain Dean
advised. He next inquired if I had seen Captain Swales. I replied that
I had met him twice in the streets of Quebec, and that he had eyed me
with no very friendly glance.
"Then depend on it, Peter, he means you some mischief," he observed.
"If he gets another ship here, which is likely enough he will, he will
want hands; and if he can lay hold of you, he will claim you as put
under his charge by your father; and I don't know how you are to get
off."
"By keeping out of his way, I should think," I replied.
"That's just what I was going to advise you to do, Peter," observed
Silas. "And I'll tell you what, lad, instead of your kicking your heels
doing nothing in this place, you and I will start off up the country
with our guns as soon as I have done my business here, which won't take
long, and we'll see if we can't pick up a few skins which will be worth
something."
This proposition, as may be supposed, was much to my taste; but I did
not much like the thoughts of leaving Captain Dean and Mary, though I
did not tell him so. He, however, very soon discovered what was running
in my mind, and set himself to work to overcome the wish I had to remain
with them. I had found so few friends of late, that I had learned to
value them properly. But Silas Flint wanted a companion, and, liking
me, was resolved that I should accompany him. We went on shore
together; and before the day was over, he had so worked up my
imagination by his descriptions of the sport and scenery of the
backwoods, that I became most eager to set off.
I next day told Captain Dean; and as I assured him that it was my
father's wish that I should see something of the country, he did not
oppose the plan, provided I should return in time to sail with him.
This I promised to do; and I then went below to tell Mary, who was in
the cabin packing up some things to take on shore. To my surprise, she
burst into tears when I gave her the information; and this very nearly
made me abandon my project. When, however, I told her of my promise to
return, she was comforted; and I added, that I would bring her back
plenty of skins to make her tippets and muffs for the winter, to last
her for years.
Three days after his arrival at Quebec, Flint was ready to set out. I
had preserved intact the money my kind father had given me, and with it
I purchased, at Flint's suggestion, a rifle, and powder, and a
shot-belt, a tinder-box, a pipe, some tobacco, a tin cup, and a few
other small articles. "Now you've laid in your stock in trade, my lad,"
he observed, as he announced my outfit to be complete. "With a quick
eye and a steady hand you've the means, by my help, of making your
fortune; so the sooner we camp out and begin the better."