Born to Wander Part 14

AT SEA IN THE "FAIRY QUEEN."

"Oh! who can tell save he whose heart hath tried, And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide, The exalting sense--the pulse's maddening play, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?"

Byron.

"The moon is up; it is a lovely eve; Long streams of light o'er dancing waves expand."

Idem.

Scene: The deck of the _Fairy Queen_. Douglas and Leonard walking slowly up and down the quarter-deck arm-in-arm. Hardly a cloud in the sky, stars very bright, and a round moon rising in the east and gilding the waters.

Three years have elapsed since the conversation related in the last chapter took place--years that have not been thrown away, for our heroes--by that t.i.tle we ought now to know them--have been sensible and apt pupils in the world's great school.

It must be admitted that it was both a strange and an unusual thing for two fathers, to each make his only son an allowance, and tell him to go and enjoy himself in any way he pleased. After all, it was only treating boys as men, and this, in my opinion, ought to be done more often than it is.

They drew their first half-year's income in London, then went quietly away to their hotel to consider what they should do.

"A couple of hundred a year, Doug," said Leonard, "isn't a vast fortune."

"No," replied Douglas, "it isn't unspendable."

"That is what I was thinking. But you see, by making us this grant--and it is all they can afford, and very handsome of them--we are positively on parole, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are bound not to exceed. To do so would be most unkind and ungentlemanly."

"Well, if we go on the continent it won't last long, will it?"

"No; besides, I don't hanker after the continent. My French is shocking bad, Leon, and I should be sure to quarrel with somebody, and get run through the body. No; the continent is out of the question."

"Yes; although a fellow could pick up some nice specimens there. But let us go farther afield. We can't go abroad far as pa.s.sengers--suppose we go as sailors? We both have been to Norway in a ship, and we went together to Archangel, so there isn't much about a ship we don't know.

Let us, I say, offer our services as--"

"As what?"

"Why, as apprentices. We're not much too old."

"No."

"Well, is it agreed?"

"Yes, I'm ready for anything, Leon. I want to see the world at any price."

So the very next day off they had gone to see an old friend of Captain Fitzroy's who lived down Greenwich way, and who was a city merchant in a big way of business.

They explained their wishes and ambitions to him.

"Well," he replied, "come and dine with me to-morrow, and I'll introduce you to one of the jolliest old salts that ever crossed the ocean. I'll do no more than introduce you, mind that."

Nor did he.

But after dinner Captain Blunt, a thorough seaman every inch of him, with a face as rosy and round as the rising moon, began spinning yarns, or telling his experiences. He had ready listeners in Leonard and Douglas, and when the former opened out, as he phrased it, and introduced and expatiated on the subject next his heart and the heart of his friend, it was Captain Blunt's turn to listen.

"Bother me, boys!" he exclaimed at last, pitching away the end of a big cigar, "but I think you are good-hearted ones, through and through, and if I thought it was something more than a pa.s.sing fancy I'd take you along with me."

"Take us and try us. We want no wages till we can earn them, nor will we live aft till we are fit to keep a watch. Our station on deck must be before the mast, our place below a seat before the galley fire, and a bunk or hammock amidships. We want to learn to set a sail, to splice a rope, to heave the lead, box the compa.s.s, turn the capstan, reef and steer--in fact, all a sailor's duties."

"Bravo!" cried Captain Blunt, "I'm but a plain man, and a plain outspoken sailor, but I'll have you; and if there isn't some life and go in you, blame me, but I'm no reader of character."

That is the way--an unusual one, I grant--in which our heroes joined the merchant service, and here--after three years all spent in Captain Blunt's ship--here, I say, on this lovely night, we find them both on deck, one keeping his watch, the other keeping him company, for they are having a talk about bygone times.

They have seen a bit of life even in that time, for the good ship _Fairy Queen_ was seldom long out of active service.

They kept strictly to the terms of their engagement, and have been till now before the mast, refusing even to mess in the cabin, although invited to do so by kindly old Captain Blunt.

Both Douglas Fitzroy and Leonard Lyle were, as mere children, fond of the sea. What British boy is not? A ship had always had a strange fascination for each of them. When much younger they had often been taken by their parents to Glasgow, and they preferred a stroll among the shipping at the Broomielaw to even a saunter in the park itself.

Beautiful in summer though the park might have been in those days--and there was but one--it was in Leonard's eyes too artificial. The lad loved Nature, but he liked to meet her and to woo her in the woods and wilds.

At school in Edinburgh both boys were what are called inseparables.

They just suited each other. It was not a case of extremes meet, however, for the tastes of both were identical. Although their books and lessons had by no means been neglected, still, task duty over, and off their minds for the day, they were free to follow the bent of their own wills. More beautiful or more romantic scenery than that close around Scotland's capital there is hardly to be found anywhere. Our heroes knew every nook and corner of it, every hill and dell, every dingle, rock, and glen, and all the creatures that dwelt therein, whether clad in fur or feather. But for all that, they were as well known on the pier of Leith as "Mutchkin Jock," the gigantic sh.o.r.e-porter, himself was. Never a ship worth the name of ship had entered, while they were at school, that they did not visit, scan, and criticise. They coolly invited themselves on board, too. Now this might have been resented at times had they not been gentlemanly lads.

Gentlemanly in address, I mean. So, though they might often and often have been found "yarning" with sailors forward, whose hearts they well knew how to win, they were just as often invited down below to the cabin, and hobn.o.bbed with the captain himself.

It would have pleased the surliest old ship captain who ever peeped over a binnacle edge, to have two such listeners as young Leon and Doug. How their bright eyes had sparkled, to be sure, as some skipper newly or lately arrived from foreign lands sat telling them of all the wonders he had seen! And how they had longed to sail away to summer seas, and behold for themselves wonders on a larger scale than any they could meet with among the mountains of their own country!

It was thus perhaps that a taste for wandering and a fondness for the sea had been engendered early in the breast of each of the boys.

It was this, I'm sure, that caused them once to write home to their respective parents, informing them that the 250-ton brig, _Highland Donald_, was to sail in a fortnight for Norway and the Baltic, and that the skipper had offered to take them if they could obtain permission.

Permission had been granted, and having been provided with suits of rough warm clothing, they had embarked one fine spring morning, and sailed away for the cold north.

Now, if any young reader thinks he would like to be a sailor, and has been led to believe, from books or otherwise, that a seaman's life is one of unmitigated pleasure and general jollity, let him induce his father or guardian to place him on a grain, tar, or timber ship bound for Norway or the Baltic. If, after a month or two of such a life, he still believes in the joys of a seaman's existence, let him join the merchant service forthwith, but I fear there are few lads who would come up smiling after so severe a test.

Our heroes, however, had stood this test, though they had roughed it in no ordinary way. True, they had been all but shipwrecked on an iron-bound coast, where no boat could have lived a minute; they had been in gale of wind after gale of wind; their provisions and fare had been of the coa.r.s.est; their beds were always wet or damp, and sometimes the cold had been intense, depressing, benumbing to both mind and body.

But their long voyage north had made sailors of them for all that, and that is saying a very great deal. It had proved of what mettle they were made, and given them confidence in themselves.

This is the first voyage, then, in which Leonard and Douglas have trod the deck as officers, and I do not deny that both are just a trifle proud of their position, although they feel fully the weight of responsibility the b.u.t.tons have brought. They certainly took but little pride in the uniform which they wore, as some weak-minded lads would have done, albeit handsome they both had looked, as they sat at table on that last night at Grayling House. So, at all events, Leonard's mother and poor Effie thought. The latter had done little else but cry all the day, that is, whenever she could get a chance of doing so unseen. This was the second time only that her brother and brother's friend had been home since they went to sea for good. They had stayed at home for a whole month, and now were bound on a perilous cruise indeed, sailing far away to Arctic seas, Captain Blunt's ship having been chosen to take stores and provisions out to Greenland for vessels employed in finding out the North-West Pa.s.sage.

Something had seemed to whisper to Effie that she would never see her darling brother again. So no wonder her heart had been sad, and her eyes red with weeping, as our heroes left; or that a gloom, like the gloom of the grave, had fallen on Grayling House, as soon as they were gone.

Great old Ossian had come and put his head on her lap, and gazing up into her face with those brown speaking eyes of his, and his loving looks of pity, almost broke her heart. The tears had come fast enough then.

The _Fairy Queen_ had sailed from Leith. Both parents had accompanied their sons thus far, and blessed them and given them Bibles each (it is a way they have in Scotland on such occasions), and bade them a hearty good-bye.

Yes, it was a hearty good-bye to all outward appearance, but there was a lump in Leonard's throat all the same that he had a good deal of difficulty in swallowing; and as soon as the _Fairy Queen_ was out of sight, the two fathers had left the pier--not side by side, remark we, but one in front of the other, Indian-file fashion. Why not side by side? Well, for this reason. There was a moisture in Major Fitzroy's eyes, that, being a man, he was somewhat ashamed of, so he stumped on ahead, that Captain Lyle might not notice his weakness; and between you and me, reader, Captain Lyle, for some similar reason, was not sorry. I hope you quite understand it.

However, here on this beautiful summer's night, with a gentle beam wind blowing from the westward, we find our friends on deck. There is a crowd of sail on her, and the ship lies away to the west of the Shetland Islands. They do not mean to touch there, so give the rocks a good offing.