Read Ebook: The Voyage of the Hoppergrass by Pearson Edmund Lester

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 1413 lines and 49611 words, and 29 pages

"Died seven year ago this spring, while I was in New Orleans. She left me her second best ear-trumpet,--she was deef as a post. She had two of 'em. One was a rubber toob sort of thing,--pretty nigh four foot long. She only used that on Sundays, an' when the minister called. She left me the other, an' I've got it to home, over the parlor mantelpiece."

I remembered seeing it there, when I had called on the Captain. He lived all alone on West Injy Lane, in a house full of cats and curiosities. The ear-trumpet always had a bouquet of dried flowers stuffed in the big end, and I had supposed that it was a speaking- trumpet. I thought the Captain had used it to shout orders through, when his ship was going round Cape Horn in a gale. It disappointed me to hear that it was nothing but his aunt's ear- trumpet. And I couldn't see why Miss Hannah Pettingell, who had only left the Captain her ear-trumpet had any right to have the boat's name changed in her honor.

"I like the name, just as it is," I said.

"Do yer?" inquired the Captain. "Well, there's no accountin' for tastes, as the man said when he found the monkey eatin' glue."

This seemed to be a joke on me. Ed and Jimmy joined the Captain in laughing, and I felt rather put down. But we soon had something else to think of, for we went on another tack to enter Sandy Island River. A bridge crossed this river, not far from the mouth, and the draw had to be turned to let us through. Ed Mason got a long fish-horn from the cabin, and began to blow it. After a while the old draw-tender, who lived in a shanty, quarter of a mile away, came hobbling up the road. He slowly swung open the draw, and then, as we approached the bridge, peered down at us.

"This yer new boat, Lem?" said he to the Captain.

"This is her, right enough," said our skipper.

"Sets kinder high in the water, don't she?"

The aged draw-tender had the air of a man who was expected to find fault, and was quite able to do it.

"Hadn't noticed it," replied the Captain, shortly.

He was attending closely to sailing the boat through the narrow gap in the bridge. The old man cackled.

"Guess you'll find, when you git her outside, that them boys 'll wish you had some more ballast in her."

Then he caught sight of the name on the stern.

"Hopper-grass! Hoppergrass! Where didger git that air name, Lem? Invent it yerself?"

"No, I didn't," said the Captain. He was very much irritated, and he did not look around.

"Well, then, if 'taint yer own inventin', I jes as soon tell yer-- if yer ask ME,--that it's the most ding-busted, tom-fool name I ever see on a cat-boat in all my born days."

"Well, I didn't ask yer," shouted Captain Bannister, "an' it don't matter two cents to me WHAT you think."

The ancient cackled again. Either he was deaf, or else he was pretending not to hear, in order to thorn the Captain. He kept on with his remarks.

There was nothing to do but leave it, for we had already left the bridge behind, and were feoon too far away to hear the critic's remarks. He continued to give us his opinion, however, for we could see his jaw move, though we could not make out a single word he said.

This river was very different from the main stream. Narrow and muddy, it ran between high banks which were covered with marsh grass. There were sudden twists and turns, so that we never knew what might be ahead of us. Sometimes we sailed so near the shore that the boom swept along the bank, brushing the grass. Once we turned a corner suddenly, and started up four crows, who were pecking at a dead fish, and in another place a big crane jumped clumsily up from a pool, and flapped heavily away. The dark, muddy water boiled up in thousands of bubbles in our wake.

"We'll see if we can get a mess of clams at Pingree's Beach, an' then we'll have a chowder for dinner,--what d'yer say, boys?"

We all said that the Captain's idea was a good one. There was a sharp turn in the river just then, and he put the boat about to round a sort of headland, where the banks were eight or ten feet high.

"Hard-a-lee! Look out for your heads," he shouted; and when the sail had swung over he continued: "I come up through here one night two years ago, in a boat that belonged to Dave Rodigrass,--I was bringing her up from Little Duck Island, for him. It was thicker'n burgoo, an' when I got the other side o' this pint, I heard a feller sing out from this side that he was aground, an' he warned me off, an' when I got here I couldn't see him, an' pretty soon he begun shoutin' from the other side. I tell yer I thought I'd got 'em again, or something, an' I--"

The Captain's recollections stopped that instant, for a voice--a loud, cheerful voice--arose only a few feet from us. It came from the other side of the sail, and that was all we could tell about it.

"Look out there!" it shouted, "look out! Oh, I mean: ship ahoy! ship ahoy!"

This hail came so suddenly that it made us jump, and Ed Mason, who was standing up forward, nearly fell overboard. He grabbed the mast to save himself, and then we all stooped to looked under the sail. The shouting had begun again, and there was a great racket of "Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!"

A MAN ON A DESERT ISLAND

"All right, all right!" shouted Captain Bannister, "we hear yer. You needn't ahoy so much."

But the voice continued to shout "Ship ahoy!" at a great rate, until the "Hoppergrass" drew slowly ahead, and we could see what had been hidden by the sail.

A sand-bar stuck out of the water, right in the middle of the river. Only a few feet of it showed, and the island which it made was very small. It was so small that the man who was sitting on it had his legs drawn up till his knees came right under his chin, so as to keep his feet from getting wet. He was a young man, about twenty years old. He had on white trousers and a pink shirt, and he was slowly waving a white canvas hat. His hair was sandy, and very much ruffled, and his big, pale blue eyes were wide open, as though he were surprised about something.

"Ship ahoy!" he remarked again, but in an ordinary conversational tone, this time.

Then he climbed to his feet,--carefully, so as to keep the steep sides of his little, sand island from giving way, and letting him down into the water. As soon as he was standing up straight he raised one hand in the air, as if he were in a play, and said: "Rescued at last!"

Then he turned toward us, and remarked: "Gentlemen, I thank you."

"You better wait till you're on board," said the Captain, "before you begin thankin' us. I'll come about in a minute, an' then we'll fetch yer in the tender."

Jimmy Toppan had already begun to pull the small boat alongside, but before he could get into it, the young man called out: "That's all right! I'll swim."

"Don't try to grab the boat," shouted the Captain, "get hold of the tender!"

So the swimmer let us pass him, seized the side of the small boat, and after one or two trials managed to climb in. He stood up in the stern, and raised his hand toward the sky, again, as if he were "speaking a piece" in school.

"Safe! Safe, at last!" he cried.

At this instant the painter became taut; the small boat gave a sudden jerk, and he went overboard again like a flash, head first.

Captain Bannister turned his head to see how the young man was getting on. Of course the boat was empty.

"Where'n the nation has he got to, now?" exclaimed the bewildered Captain.

We were all doubled up laughing, but we managed to gasp out: "He's gone overboard again!"

"What's he done that for?"

"He--he--fell over!"

"Fell over? What'n the dickens did he do that for? Where is he, anyhow?"

At this moment the sandy head, and astonished face came up, once more, in our wake. He brushed the water out of his eyes, looked at us, and began to smile again.

"Say, you!" shouted the Captain, "be you comin' on this boat, or what be you goin' to do?"

The swimmer gasped.

"If you keep on at that rate," he called, "I'm probably NOT coming. If you'll wait a bit, though, I'll--"

Here he swallowed a mouthful of water, and stopped speaking. He waved one arm at us, however, and seemed to smile cheerfully.

"Well, I'll come back once more,--d'yer hear?" This from the Captain. "An' when yer get aboard, STAY aboard, will yer?"

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet