Part 13

“Waell, I never—Cape Cod! why, strannger, I guess there must be some finnity in our breeds.”

Waell, you see, I grew rayther kewrous tew, and wanted to log the petiklers o’ the nateral history o’ the race o’ marmen—so I made a few enquerries respectin’ their ways o’ life.

“I guess,” says I, “you’ve a tarnal good fish market in these here parts, and keep your table well supplied with hallibut and sea-bass, and black-fish, eh?”

“Why, strannger,” says the marman, rayther wrathy, “seein’ its you I won’t be offended, or, by hevving, if that speech ain’t enough to make a marman feel scaly, why then it ain’t no matter. We claim to be half fish in our natur’, and I reckon you don’t kalkilate we gobbles our relations? there’s sea varmint enough in all conscience, sitch as oysters, and clams, and quahogs, and muscles, and crabs, and lobsters. We go the hull shoat with them; and then we cultivates kail and other sea truck in our gardings, and sometimes we swims under the wild fowl as they’re floatin’, and jerks down a fine duck or a gull, or gathers their eggs off the rocks, or the barnacles off drift wood.”

Jest then, the marman’s eldest son-fish fotched in the gimblet, and brought up the marman’s jawin’ tacks with a round turn. The young un was about the size of an Injin boy jest afore he runs alone—half papoose, half porpus. He got a leetle skeered when he clapt eyes on me, but I gave him a stale quid o’ backer to amuse himself, and the sugar plum made the marmaster roll his eyes above a bit, now I tell you.

Waell, I bored a hole in the brandy tub, and pickin’ up an empty clam-shell, handed a drink to the lady, and told her to tote it down. She swaller’d it pretty slick, and the way she gulped afterwards, and stared, and twisted her fishy mouth, was a sin to Davy Crockett. The marman looked rayther wolfy at me, as if I’d gin her pison; so I drawed a shell-fall and swallered it myself. This kinder cooled him down, and when the marmaid got her tongue tackle in runnin’ order agin, she said she guessed the licker was the juice of hevving, and she’d be darned if she wouldn’t have another drink right off the reel.

Seein’ this, the marman swallered his dose, and no sooner got it down than he squealed right out, and clapped his webby hands together, and wagged his tail like all creation. He swore it was elegant stuff, and he felt it tickle powerful from the top of his head to the eend of his starn-fin. Arter takin’ two or three horns together, the sonny cried for a drink, and I gin him one that sent him wrigglin’ on the sand like an eel in an uneasiness. So, the marman said as the licker was raal first-rate, and first-rater than that tew, he guessed he’d ask in his next door neighbour and his lady, jest to taste the godsend. Waell, in a minnit, in comes a huge marman of the most almighty size, looking jest like Black Hawk when he was bilious; he fotched up his lady with him, and his eldest son, a scraggy hobbadehoy marman, and his darters, two young marmaids or marmisses, jest goin’ out o’ their teens, who flapped their yaller-skinned paws over their punking-coloured chops, pretendin’ to be almighty skeered at comin’ afore a strannge man in a state o’ natur’—but they forgot all abeout that thar’ when the licker was handed to them.

Arter takin’ a few smallers, the fresh marman said he guessed the clam-shell was altogether tew leetle to get a proper amount of licker whereby a feller could judge correctly of the raal taste o’ the stuff—so he went to his berth in the next cave, and fotched a large blue and silver shell that held abeout a pint.

The news o’ the brandy-tub spred pretty slick, for in half an hour, I’d the hull grist o’ the marmen belongin’ to that settlement cooped up in the cavern. Sitch a noisy swillin’ set o’ wet souls I never did see; the drunk com’ on em almighty strong, for they kept me sarvin’ out the licker jest as quick as it would run. I thought if the capting could have seen me astridin’ his brandy-cask, in an underground grocery at the bottom o’ the sea, surrounded by sich a skeul of odd fish, how many dozen at the gangway would he have ordered the bosen’s mate to have sarved me out?

The way the drunk affected the different critters was right kewrous, now I tell you. One great scaly feller stiffened his tail all up, and stood poppindickler erect on the peaked pints of the eend fin, like a jury-mast, and jawed away raal dignified at all the rest, wantin’ them to appoint him a sort o’ admiral over the hull crew. Another yeller feller, with a green tail, was so dreadful blue, that he doubled himself into a figgery 5, and sung scraps and bits o’ all sorts o’ sea songs, till he got tew drunk to speak at all. Some o’ the marmen wanted to kiss all the marmaids, and tew o’ the ladies begun scratchin’ and fightin’ like two pusseys, cos one trod on t’other’s tail. Some went floppin’ and dancin’ on the sand like mad, raisin’ sitch a dust that I could not see to draw the licker—but the party round the tub soon druv’ them to the right abeout, as interferin’ with the interest o’ the settlement. Every minnit some fresh marman dropped on the ground with the biggest kind of load on; I never seed a set o’ critters so almighty tight, yellin’, swearin’, huggin’, and fightin’, till they growed so darned savagerous that I kinder feared for my own safety amongst them drunken moffradite sea aborgoines. So, you see, I up and told them that I’d clapt my veto on the licker, and that they should not have any more.

Waell, if ever you did hear a most etarnal row, or see a hull raft o’ drunken fellers cut didoes, then _was_ the time. It was voted that I were a public enemy, and every half-drunken marman suddenly become very ’fishus to have me lynched, and it were settled at last that I were to be rode on a rail, and then tarred and feathered. But, while some o’ the varmint went arter the rail and the tar, the rest o’ the critters begun quarrelin’ who was to sarve out the licker; and as each marman, drunk or sober, wanted to have the keare o’ the precious stuff, they soon raised a pretty muss, and kept on tearin’ at each other like a pack o’ wolves. Seein’ this, I jest kinder sneaked quietly away from the cave grocery till I com’ in sight o’ the ship, when I struck upperd for the sarfis, and swum for dear life. I soon seed that the boats’ crew were musterin’ for another bout o’ draggin’ for the brandy-cask; so, fearin’ least the capting should miss me, I jest laid hold o’ the edge o’ the gig, and crawled in pretty quickly, and laid myself down in the starn-sheets, as if I’d never been out o’ the boat.

I hadn’t laid thar’ half a second, when I heerd a noise jest for all the world as if somebody was squeezin’ a small thundercloud right over my head. I ruz up, and thar’ were the capting and the hull crew lookin’ over the ship’s side at me—the officers in a tarnal rage, and the men grinnin’ like so many hyenas.

“Rouse up, you long-sided lazy swab, and bring the boats in from the boom. Are you goin’ to sleep all day?”

“Ay, ay, Sir,” said I, jumpin’ up in the boat, when all the water run off me like forty thousand mill-streams—I’d been so outrageous soaked while down with the marmen. I felt kinder skeered lest the capting should see it, but when I stood up he laughed right out, and so did the hull crew tew.

“Why, he’s not awake yet,” said the capting. “Bosen, give him another bucket.”

You see they wanted to persuade me that I’d fell asleep in the gig, as fast as a meetin’-house, and slept thar’ the hull while the crew were at dinner, and that no shoutin’ nor nothin’ couldn’t wake me up—so, the bosen run along the boom and jest give me a couple o’ buckets o’ sea-water right over me. When I told ’em my yarn abeout the marman poppin’ up his head, and invitin’ me down, and all abeout findin’ the brandy-tub and the rest, they swore that I’d got drunk on the parson’s licker, and dreamt it all in the boat. But I guess I know what I did see, jest abeout as slick as anybody; and the chaplain b’lieved the hull story; and said that as I’d learnt the marmen the valley o’ licker, they’d get huntin’ up all the tubs and barrels out of the different wrecks in all the various seas; and that intemperance would spile the race, and thin ’em off till they became one o’ the things that was—jest like the Injins what’s wastin’ away by the power o’ rum and whiskey given ’em by the white men.

I recking the parson warn’t far out in his kalkilashing. The love o’ licker has had its effect upon the marmen and the marmaids; they must have thinned off surprisin’ly, for I ain’t seed none since, nor I don’t know nobody that has nyther.

XX. CAPTAIN STICK AND TONEY.

Captain Stick was a remarkably precise old gentleman, and a conscientiously just man. He was, too, very methodical in his habits, one of which was to keep an account in writing of the conduct of his servants, from day to day. It was a sort of account-current, and he settled by it every Saturday afternoon. No one dreaded these hebdomadal balancings more than Toney, the boy of all-work; for the Captain was generally obliged to write a receipt, for a considerable amount, across his shoulders.

One settling afternoon, the Captain, accompanied by Toney, was seen “toddling” down to the old stable, with his little account-book in one hand, and a small rope in the other. After they had reached the “Bar of Justice,” and Toney had been properly “strung up,” the Captain proceeded to state his accounts, as follows:

“_Toney, Dr._

“Sabbath, to not half blacking my boots, &c., five stripes.

“Tuesday, to staying four hours at mill longer than necessary, ten stripes.

“Wednesday, to not locking the hall door at night, five stripes.

“Friday, to letting the horse go without water, five stripes.

“Total, twenty-five stripes.

“_Toney, Cr._

“Monday, by first-rate day’s work in the garden, ten stripes.

“Balance due, fifteen stripes.”

The balance being thus struck, the Captain drew his cow-hide and remarked:

“Now, Toney, you black scamp, what say you, you lazy villain, why I shouldn’t give you fifteen lashes across your back, as hard as I can draw?”

“Stop, old Mass,” said Toney; “dar’s de work in de garden, Sir—dat ought to tek off some.”

“You black dog,” said the Captain, “havn’t I given you the proper credit of ten stripes for that? Come, come!”

“Please, old Massa,” said Toney, rolling his eyes about in agony of fright, “dar’s—you forgot—dar’s de scourin’ ob de floor—old missus say e nebber been scour as good before.”

“Soho, you saucy rascal,” quoth Captain Stick; “you’re bringing in more off-sets, are you? Well, now, there!”—here the Captain made an entry upon his book—“you have a credit of five stripes and the balance must be paid.”

“Gor a mity, Massa, don’t hit yet—dar’s sumpen else—oh, Lord! please don’t—yes, Sir—got um now—ketchin’ de white boy and fetchin’ um to ole missus, what trow rock at de young duck.”

“That’s a fact,” said the Captain, “the outrageous young vagabond!—that’s a fact, and I’ll give you credit of _ten_ stripes for it—I wish you had brought him to _me_—now we’ll settle the balance.”

“Bress de Lord, ole Massa,” said Toney, “_dat’s all!_”

Toney grinned extravagantly.

The Captain adjusted his tortoise-shell spectacles with great exactness, held the book close to his eyes, and ascertained that the fact was as stated by Toney. He was not a little irritated.

“You swear off the account, you infernal rascal!—you swear off the account, do you?”

“All de credit is fair, old Massa,” answered Toney.

“Yes, but—” said the disappointed Captain, “but—but—” still the Captain was sorely puzzled how to give Toney a _few licks any how_, “but—” an idea popped into his head, “_where’s my costs_, you incorrigible, abominable scoundrel? You want to swindle me, do you, out of my costs, you black, deceitful rascal! And,” added Captain Stick, chuckling as well at his own ingenuity, as the perfect justice of the sentence, “I enter judgment against you for costs—ten stripes!” and forthwith administered the stripes and satisfied the judgment.

“Ki nigger!” said Toney; “ki nigger! what dis judgmen’ for coss, ole Massa talk ’bout. Done git off ’bout not blackin’ de boot—git off ’bout stayin’ long time at de mill—and ebry ting else; but dis judgmen’ for coss gim me de debbil! Bress God, nigger must keep out ob de ole stable, or I’ll tell you what, dat _judgmen’ for coss_ make e back feel mighty warm, for true!”

XXI. THE WAY BILLY HARRIS DROVE THE DRUM-FISH TO MARKET.

The afternoon of a still, sultry day, found us at the Bankhead spring, on Chaptico Bay, Maryland—Billy Harris, old “Blair,” and myself. Billy was seated on the head of his canoe, leisurely discussing a bone and a slice of bread, the remnant of his mid-day’s repast on the river; old “Blair” was busily engaged in overhauling and arranging the fish that he had taken in the course of the morning: while I, in a state of half-listlessness, half-doziness, was seated on the trunk of an uprooted cedar near the spring, with my head luxuriously reclining against the bank.

“Well, this is about as pooty a fish as I’ve had the handling ov for some time,” remarked old “Blair,” holding up and surveying with much satisfaction a rock about two feet and a half in length.

“Smart rock that,” said Billy, as he measured the fish with his eye. “What an elegint team a couple o’ dozen o’ that size would make!”

“Elegint _what_, Mr. Harris?” inquired old “Blair,” depositing the fish under the bushes in the bow of his canoe, and turning round towards Billy.

“Why, an elegint team for a man to travel with,” replied Billy. “Did I never tell you ’bout my driving the drums to the Alexandri’ market?” he added, at the same time casting a furtive glance in the direction of the spot where I was seated.

“Well, I’ve hearn a right smart of your exploits, Mr. Harris, in our meetin’s down here on the bay,” said “Blair,” “but I don’t remember ov hearin’ you tell about that.”

“The fact is,” said Billy, “it’s a little out o’ the usual run o’ things, and it’s not every one that I care about telling it to. Some people are so hard to make believe, that there’s no satisfaction in telling them anything; seeing it’s you, though, Lewis, I don’t mind relating that little spree—’specially as the tide won’t serve us up the narrows for some time yet, and Mr. ——, there, seems inclined to do a little napping. Well, to begin at the beginning,” he continued, as old “Blair” assumed the attitude of an attentive listener at the head of his canoe, “it’s just seven years ago the tenth day of this here last month, that I went down to the drumming-ground off the salt-works to try my luck among the thumpers. I know’d the gents were about, for I’d heard ’em drumming the day before while I was out rocking on the outer eend o’ Mills’s; so I got everything ready the over night, and by an hour by sun the next morning I had arrived upon the ground, ready for action. For the first half-hour or so I done nothing. Sometimes an old chanu’ler or a greedy cat would pay his respects to my bait in a way that would make my heart jump up into my mouth, and get me kind o’ excited like, but that was all. Devil the drum ever condescended to favour me with a nibble. A’ter a while I begun to get tired o’ that kind o’ sport, and concluded that I’d just up-stake and shove a little nearer in shore. Just as I was preparing to pull in my line, though, I spied a piece o’ pine bark, ’bout twenty yards off, floating down towards me. ‘Now,’ says I, ‘gents, I’ll give you until that bit of bark passes my line, to bite in, and if you don’t think proper to do it in that time, you may breakfast as you can—I’ll not play the waiting-boy any longer.’ Well, the piece of bark got right off against my line without my getting so much as a nibble, and I begun wind up; but I hadn’t got more’n a foot or so o’ the line outer the water, when I felt something give me a smart tug. At first I thought it might be a crab or an oyster-shell that I’d hooked, but presently my line begun to straighten under a strong, steady pull, and then I know’d what was about. I give one sangorous jerk, and the dance commenced.”

“What was it—a drum?” inquired old “Blair,” a little eagerly.

“Yes, a drum, and a regular scrouger, at that. I wish you had only been there, Lewis, to see the fun. Of all the hard fish to conquer, that ever I took in hand, that chap was the Major. I got him alongside at last, though, and lifted him in. I then run a rope through his gills, and sent him overboard agin, makin’ the two eends of the line fast to a staple in the stern o’ the boat, just behind me.

“Well, this put me in first-rate spirits, and out went my line agin in the twinklin’ of an eye. Before it had time to touch the bottom, it was jerked through my hand for the matter of a yard or so, and then cum another interestin’ little squabble. Just as I got that chap to the top o’ the water, ’way went t’other line!”

“My patience!” exclaimed old “Blair,” who had probably never taken a drum in the whole course of his life, “_two_ goin’ at once?”

“Yes, _two_ at once.”

“And did you save ’em both, Mr. Harris?”

“Save ’em!” said Billy; “did you ever know me to lose a fish arter I’d once struck him?”

“Well, exceptin’ that big rock this mornin’,” replied “Blair,” as a scarcely perceptible smile crept over his ebony visage, “I don’t remember as I ever did.”

“But that, you know, was the fault o’ the hook—the beard wasn’t quite long enough,” said Billy. “But to come back to the drums,” he continued, quickly. “In about three hours from the time I staked down, I had no less than thirty-nine fine fish floating at the eend o’ my little corner; so I concluded that I’d just up-stake, and make a push for the narrows.

“‘But how am I to get the drums along?’ said I to myself; ‘that’s the next question. If I take ’em in the boat, I shall be swamped to a certainty; and if I undertake to tow ’em straight up the river, it’s a school o’ pilchers to a single crocus that I’m run away with.’

“A’ter debating the matter for a little while with myself, I concluded that I’d just shove in quietly towards the land, until I got into schoal water, and then follow the shore. So I bent over as easy as I could, pulled up the stake, and commenced shoving along; but no sooner did the drums feel themselves moving through the water, than they turned tack, and, with a flirt of their tails, dashed smack off down the river, like so many terrified colts.”

“Thar, bless the Lord!” ejaculated old “Blair,” suddenly rising from his seat, and then resuming it again.

“My first thought,” continued Billy, “was to cut the rope, and let the whole batch of ’em go; but on turning round for that purpose, I found that the stern of the boat was buried so low in the water, that a little stream was beginning to run over the top; so I jist travelled to the other end of the boat, and tried to bear down. But the thing wasn’t to be done so easy. The drums had taken the bit between their teeth, and were pullin’ down with a regular forty-horse power. Seeing no other way of saving myself from the crabs, I just got a-straddle o’ the boat, and worked my way backwards, until I reached the last half inch o’ the bow, and there I sot, with my legs dangling in the water, ’till the gents begun to cool down, and come to the top. By this time we had got over Cobb Bar, and the drums were looking straight up the Potomac. I never knowed how to account for it, but just then a queer notion struck me:

“‘’Spose, now,’ said I, to myself, ‘I was to take these chaps in hand, and drive ’em to Alexandri’; wouldn’t it be something to talk about when I got back!’

“The thing sorter pleased me, and I determined to try it, come what might of it. So I reached down, and got holt o’ my drum-line, and carefully doubled it. I then got down into the boat, and crawled along on my hands and knees to the other eend o’ the corner, where the drums were, and looked over. Finding that they were all moving along quietly, I tied my line to the two eends o’ the rope that they were fastened with, and then cut the rope loose from the staple. This made the reins about twenty-five yards long, but I only let out about one-half ov ’em. I was afraid, you see, if I give the gents too much play room, that they might get into tantrums, and give me more trouble. Seeing, arter a while, though, that I could manage ’em pretty well, I just wound the line round my left hand, picked up my angel rope for a whip, took my seat in the stern of the boat, and told ’em to travel. And _didn’t_ they travel! I wish you could only have seen me, Lewis. Old Neption, that Mr. ——, there, sometimes tells about, wasn’t a circumstance. I had a thundering big red drum in the lead, and nineteen as pretty matches o’ black ones following after, as ever a man could wish to look at; and they all moved along as nicely as so many well-broke carriage-horses. It’s true, a chap would sometimes become a little fractious, like, and sheer off towards the Ma’yland or Virginny shore, but I’d just fetch a draw on t’other tack, and give him a slight touch with the rod near the back fin, and he’d fall into line agin as beautiful as could be. Well, Lewis, to make a long story short, it was about ten o’clock in the day when I took the gentlemen in hand, and by three hours by the sun that evening, I pitched the reins over one o’ the posts on the Alexandri’ wharf. A crowd o’ people had collected together to see me land, and as the thing ov a man’s drivin’ fish to market seemed to tickle ’em, I soon sold out my whole team, at a dollar and a half a head. I at first thought of holding on to about half a dozen ov ’em to travel home with; but as I expected they were pretty well tired out, and the wind happened to be fair, I bought me a sail, laid in a supply ov eatables, and a jug of the best old rye that ever tickled a man’s throat” (a slight working of old “Blair’s” mouth was here perceptible), “and at day-break the next morning was snoozing it away nicely under my own shingles at home.”

“Didn’t you see no steam-boats, nor nothin’, on your way up, Mr. Harris?” inquired old “Blair.”

“Oh yes,” said Billy. “’Bout twenty miles this side o’ Alexandri’ I met the old Columbria, coming down under a full head o’ steam. She was crowded with people, and as I passed close along by the wheel-house, and bowed my head to ’em, they all clapped their hands and hollored mightily. I beam afterwards that the Captain, or somebody else, had it all put in the papers, but I can’t say from my own knowledge whether it was so or not. I also overtook two or three brigs, but didn’t stop to talk—just give ’em a nod, and passed on.”

“My patience!” exclaimed old “Blair;” “well you _was_ a travellin’.”

“Just t’other side o’ Nangem’y Reach, too,” continued Billy, “I fell in with a sa’cy little pungy, that brushed up alongside, and seemed inclined to keep company. As the wind happened to freshen up just then, I couldn’t get away from her no how; and the son of a blood of a captin kept bearing me in towards the land until he got me almost right upon a long bar before I know’d it. As the water was several feet deep at the eend of the bar, the pungy could pass right by it without touching; so I had either to cross the bar or go round the pungy. It was a desperate undertaking to try the bar, for ’bout a yard or so wide it was perfectly bare; but I couldn’t think of being beat, so I just stood up in the boat, gathered the line well together in my hands, and with a whoop to the drums, rushed ’em at it.”

“And did you _raily_ cross it, Mr. Harris?” said “Blair,” a little staggered.

“Without turning a shell,” replied Billy.

“And what became o’ the pungy?”

“Why in a little while the wind died away, and she dropped behind, and I saw nothing more of her. I reckon it mad the captin open his eyes, though, to see the way I crossed the bar. But the greatest expl’it ov all was—”