Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 January 1884 — THE CRUISE OF THE JEMIMA. [ARTICLE]

THE CRUISE OF THE JEMIMA.

Charlie, my young brother, had been fagging at his studies; I had just passed the It. O. S. E., and was proportionately elate.' We had earned our summer we thought; and nothing loth was I when Charlie, with a map in his hand, pointed out a spot on the Caithness coast and exclaimed: “Here we are! There we go! What say you, Frank ?” “Very good choice. Plenty of ozone, fishing, aijd boating; fa'sliioh at a discount. Wiiqreis time-tabled” Clanhead*-swaS quickly fixed upon: and after-, ffirtsuaf defi|«ts 'of raffiSy traveling, sve found ourselves ip a plaee richly endowed by gatqre, but minus an inn. , a co^^^^^aiisw^^afeeitfcei; a nightf»jr«tf ap4 a* hearty fish breakfast, ■ weMlrofted-offtoward tlie sea-/* In street of <ofaflhead were yellow-haired ’children who stood in wfde-jytd,' ifinocent wohttdf' and stored at us. Perhaps they were overcome by the sight of our hideous brown sand-shoes; or it might have been tliit' they were bewitched by Charlie’# li&fidsonie' face. Chti^&bihe Addiiis of our family; and I am an ugly young man with a marvelously wide mouth, eyesight sQ neaiulhat I. cannot pick up a sixiicipie wjttfcout the help of my glasses, and ap expression, to say the least of it, scared. Such as we were, we stood the lads’ and the lasses’ scrutiny unabashed, plodding on till we perceived a middleaged man leaning on a gate, in, I imagined, a dolce far niente condition. He turned, however, and moved toward us. “Will ye no’ be takin’ a sail the mornin’, gentlemen?” “just what we want," cried Charlie. “Aweel, tak ye the first turn to the reet, an’ it’ll bring ye to the head o’ the cliff. Some ,way bock ye’ll see the openin’ to a ravine. Gang awa’ through the gap, an’ ye’ll soon be where the sea washes the cliff foot. Be ye canny, for the tide’s high the noo, and the shallowest water there may droun ye. In five minutes I’ll be cornin’ roond wi’ my boat an’ my mate at your service.” The boatman touched his cap and moved off; we made for the ravine, .passed down it, and came suddenly upon the most magnificent expanse of rolling water that our eyes had ever feasted upon. Shortly from, I suppose, some sheltering nook under the cliff, came along our little craft the Jemima, with her mainsail spread and her master at the helm, while Donald, his mate, kept watch at the how. With a “Yo hoy! Steady! Yohoy!” she was “brought to," and in scrambled we, neck or nothing. We were scarcely seated before, emerging from the ravine, toiling on with the help of a crutch over the loose earth and bowlders, came a girl with a sweet but very sad face.- Evidently she was suffering in mind and body. “Ecli, Hinny! Hinny!” said our boatman, with a softened intonation. “Ye shouldna act sae, my dear! When gentlemen hire the Jemima they dinna etfjtect to tak her master’s family ftboord. Gang awa hame again, Manfiie.” “Oh, bv all means, take your friend aboard, Mr ” “Ben is my name, sir, an’ I thank ye lor your kindness. Come, then, bairn! an* look ye, dinna trust to your crutch When ye step aboord. Should the boat luff', it m-iy slip i'rae under ye. Let me lay it doon at the stern, an’ gie me your bond. Now, steady, an’ in ye are.” Ben gu ded the boat off, then turned to the girl again. “Eh, mv bairnie, not sae miokle as a speck o’ head gear 1 an’ they bits o’ fal-lal clothing tlyin* aboot re. Ye’ll catch your death! ye maun nae my jacket on. Mebbe, sir, ye’ll be s’• kind os to liaud the tiller

whiles I dress her oop ? There, now, Mamie, are ye no warmly buskit ?” Off we were before the wind, oar swelling mainsail hiding the man at the bow. The grand sea and sky threw Charlie and myself into ecstasies; Ben. used to such scenes, was quiet, and, I thought, sad, while the lassie looked decidedly sleepy. “Eh,* my doo,” said Ben, “ye were oop wi’ the birds; I marked ye wendin’ your way to the cliff by the first glint o’ the sun. Ye’s liken to a wraith, my dearie! Ye’s aye wanderin’. Aweel, lay doun your head a while on my shoulder, and be takin’ a wee bit nap the noo.” With liis disengaged arm Ben supported the frail little body, and soon his charge was dozing as restfully as any weary child. As she slept I espied a wedding-ring on her finger; and even in repose her face told a tale of mental and bodily suffering; Some heavy calamity, I thought, must have fallen upon her. Her childlike confidence in Ben and his tenderness toward her were pathetic; and, altogether, my sympathy was won. Presently I ventured to ask if she were not an invalid; and returned Ben, “00, yes, sir; an’ she is my only balm. Pretty doo! She marriedower early. An’ a week after, Tam, her husband, sailed forth wi’ his crew for the fishin’. Three months liae passed sin’ the wofu’ day, but nae word can we get o’ boat or men.” “Then you think the vessel ” “Went doun, sir, is what ye mean ? There is nae doot about it; for, miles awa along the coast, a piece of her sail was washed ashore. But ipy lamb knowsna that; an’ sae, i’stead o’ puttin’ on widow’s weeds, fche aye says wa’s bound to find him; dn’ she watches the sea, an’ questions every fishermon she meets, till it’s just pitifu’ to hear her. ” “She is nearly*distrauglit, ” thought I. Then I gave Ben a warning note regarding the imperative need of trying to divert her mind from her trouble. Also I pfoffeired a word of Advice about her lameness, which, it appeared, rose from some recent injury done to the muscles, and which, I gathered, had been treated in anything but a scientific maner, Ben was delighted to find that I was a doctor, and, mast grateful for my interest in him. Indeed, he was so earnest in pouring out his thanks when I volunteered to take Mamie’s case in hand while I was at Clanhead, that the man at the bow (as he afterward owned) became an absorbed and sympathetic listener; for Mamie and he had been*' playmates, and he felt rather-dowrr hearted, Ben told imk when Tam efcrDeep i^nn|^ v sti(l entirely free' limn upprOftß^^^^.A^uilded under our* Jeefevc r v where! A swift glance at the mainsail, a wrench at the "tiller, and a tremendous shpqt from Ben —■*- ... . g j “flow, these,« bter! * Are ye ‘nioi&’\ . I pi Ij V • The v arm mj*w|#Ho» ikte. A&ar£] vessel wafedoYro upon us; our inamlmj ' was pierced through, by hey pur timbers were f|jfi%rsßg under ler bows. I beai& shouting-H)n the df*uk above us; I saw a man leap from the vessel’s side; I saw Mamie wake up in an agony of terror, and throw her arms round her father’s nock; I heard Ben say, “Nae, dinna climber me, but strike ye cot an’ trust. ” I knew we were all in the water, for I saw Ben supporting his child a.s he swain vigorously toward the man who had leaped over. I say Charlie going down (neither he nor I was a swimmer); I clutched at him fruitlessly; then came confused cries df, “Keep your heads up!” “Here’s a lifebelt;” “Catch this rope!” and so on. But soon the voices sounded far away and indistinguishable. I knew that salt water was in my nostrils and mouth; there was singing in my ears, roaring in my head; I felt a mad impulse to rise; I did rise; again for a moment only, I heard eager voices near me, and caught a glimpse of the efforts that were being made to save us. In on agony I made an effort to keep up; it was futile. Then hiss! hiss! swish! through my very brain; after that, darkness, dense darkness! a clear consciousness that the hand of death was on me, a cry from my inmost soul to heaven, and—a stranj3fe, deep calm. * * * * * The shn was going down in a flood of crimson glory. I lay npon a wellswabbed deck all alone. Where had I

been? Where was I going? What had happened ? I pinched myself and felt the pain, so I was still in the flesh. I tried my voice, “Hi! liilloa! somebody!” No one caiiie. I sat up and took a speculative survey. The vessel was taut and trim, and she smelled of timber, but she was not of British build. As I cogitated—father weakly, I must own—a footstep sounded on the deck, and along came a good-natured-looking seaman, fair and blue-eyed; he made his way to me and looked smilingly down. “What ship is this?” queried L A shake of the head. “Are you a German ?” Two shakes of the head. “Speak, man, in some, tongue or ether, will you ?” The word “speak” he understood, and obeyed with energy. But no word of any language could I pick out from his strange jabber. i Feeling, no doubt, that my understanding wanted arousing, he went away and shortly returned with six othjer men; some strong, fair, and blue-eyed, like himself, the' rest shorter, darker, but powerfully built, and all chattering the most unintelligible jargoi 4s they bent their energies to make me understand something or other, I tri4d hard to discover their nationalities, for'certainly they were not all of one nation, when —happy thought—came flitting through my brain the words: And then the bine-eyed Norseman told A saga or the days of old. “You are from Norway,” bawled I. “And you,” to the darker men, “you are Swedes. Am I right?” “fla! Norroway! Norge! Norge! Ha! ha! Norrike! Ha! ha!” The words were taken up like a re-

frain with boisterous satisfaction. Had I only raised my eyes to the vessel'*flag, I might have seen at first that she was called the Jarl Hakon. Bat just then my wits were scattered. They began, however, to disentangle themJ selves, and thoughts of Charlie, Ben, j and the rest crowded upon me. Where were they? Where was the lame girl, and where the Jemima? It was useless to question, so I rose np and with rather unsteady step walked across the deck and found my way to the Captain’s cabin. On one side lay Ben, with pain in every line of his face; in the Captain’s berth, looking absolutely dead, was Mamie; stretched out on a rug lay my brother. He, however, managed to moan out “Bravo!” when lie saw me. I went to the girl’s side and felt, her pulse. Then, “Where’s the Captain?” said I to Ben’s careless mate, Donald, who was standing close by, the picture of helpless distress. “Here,” came a ready answer from a mellow voice behind me. I turned. There stood a portly, gray-headed man, with a trustworthy face. He spoke English; *this was worth something just then. “Have you a wife—a lady on board, sir, who will carry out my instructions respecting this patient ?” “Are you then a physician ?” . “I am a member of the College of Surgeons, and am anxious to do my best in this emergency.” “I am heartily glad, sir. A lady—no; there is not one on board. But there is a man who would lay down his life for this child. He is burly, but docile; let him be her nurse.” “Oh, her father? But he is in sorry plight himself. I fear I shall find some broken bones when I have time to look at him.” “No, not her father—her husband.” I glanced at Ben. - “I knaw,” said he; “there’s a reet bright siller linin’ to oor clood, thank God.” “Bring him in,” quoth I. He came, p youttg fellow liaviftg 6 splendid physique and six feet two ol height, Jdie very man who had leaped from thb side of the Jarl Hakon to our rescue. I staetehed out my arm in front of the berth as a warning or barrier. But Tam had tjaot and caution. He stood mutely looking, down on his ghostly young wife; trieri, in response to a touch on hisjhHn, he bept liis head to take mv orders. ' Ytthile Mamie remained unconscious he w to k£ep his post quietly, using Ahe prescribed remedies ; the mbment 'She showed signs of consciousness he •was to vanish. I turned to Ben, who I found had a btokeff arm. “Splints,” said I to Charlie, who was on his feet by this tim^. 1 '” “Go to the Captaih for' thin ,to shape it, also linen |or bandages*—a sheet will do. Now. Ben, ydu are a Briton, I know; will you trust me to set that bone?” “Trust ye? Ay, sir; I ne’er wince at isialike. I’d be poorly pft an’ jt werena i IThat business was got through, and I iM | had sc«r|ejy lettered -a moan Jrqmi first to last,’but cold perspiration stood on his forehead; and. I was just dispatching Ufcpnald for a strong dup of tea to*Ye*ive hhn when—a sadden knock on my arm. I turned sharply. “Beg pardon, sir,” whispered Tam, as his great bulk rolled and stumbled into a dark corner beyond me. % But Mamie’s eyes were wide open; the whiteness had gone from her face; her breath came thick and fast; she even tried to raise herself on her elbow. “Father! father! Ye’s fouu’ my Tam!” Quaking with fear lest the remedy should be worse than the disease, I motioned Tam out from his hidingplace. I saw the girl’s face flush violently; I saw her throw up her arms to clasp her husband’s neck; I saw the young giant turn white and weak with emotion; then away darted I, never halting till 1 reached the stern. Tyro as I was, I would rather have set half a dozen more bones than have stood out that meeting. The Captain was there, and very soon we got into conversation. Here is the substance of what he told me. The Jarl Hakon was doing a pine trade between Bergen and Aberdeen. On her last homeward voyage she had picked up Tam and another seaman, who were beating hopelessly about in a small boat, half dead with thirst and exhaustion. Tam’s fine frame had bat-

tied through, and he was working liis way back to Scotland; but his companion in peril had succumed and was laid in a Norwegian grave. * * * * * Mamie walked without her crutch before I left Clanhead; and Ben’s bon* was doing famously. I was in high: spirits at my success as surgeon on imy own account. I had gained friends, too, stanch and leal. Said Tam ad parting: “Ye’s gien me a bonny wife for a sickly one, an’ 11l ne’er thank ye enoo’, sir.” “All right, Tam; you saved my life when you leaped from the Jarl Hakon, yon know, so we’re more than quits. And look here, lad, if you ever want a friend, send to me.” “Sae I will, sir; and suld ye e’er need an act o’ reet willin’ an’ faithfu’ service ye’ll Send to me.” •That compact was an honest one, and it will stand.— Cassell’s Magazine.