Sim Gwynnwas hungry, and that was the greatest misfortune which could possibly happen to him. He was growing rapidly, and consumed a vast amount of food. I pitied him, as I did any one who was kept on short allowance, and I hastened to the house as quickly as I could, in order to relieve what was positive suffering on his part. I intended to obtain the food at home if possible; if not, to purchase it at the store.
Captain Fishley had probably harnessed the horse himself, for he and the squire had gone away. I went into the house. No one was there but Flora. Mrs. Fishley had gone, with her husband, to sun herself in the smiles of the senator. She never liked to be left at home when there was anything going on. In the buttery I found plenty of cooked provisions; for, whatever else may be said of the Fishleys, they always had enough to eat, and that which was good enough. "Short provender" had never been one of my grievances, and I pitied poor Sim all the more on this account.
Mrs. Fishley had evidently given the distinguished visitor credit for a larger appetite than he possessed after his debauch the night before, and there was at least a pound of cold fried ham left. I took a paper bag, and put into it half the meat and as much cold corned beef as would have fed me for two days, with a plentiful supply of biscuits, crackers, and brown bread. I filled the bag full, determined that Sim should have plenty to eat for once in his life. Thus laden with enough to fill the stomach that had "nothing in it," I returned to the swamp.
I need not say that the hungry runaway was glad to see me. I pushed off the raft, and poled it over to the fallen tree, where we should not be disturbed by any possible passer-by. Sim looked piteously sad and sorrowful; he glanced wistfully at the paper bag, and seemed to begrudge every moment of delay. At the tree, I took out the contents of the bag, andspread them on the log. Sim's eyes dilated till they were like a pair of saucers, and an expression of intense satisfaction lighted up his dull features.
"Go in, Sim," said I, as soon as I had spread the table for him.
"Thank you, Buck! You are a good fellow," replied he, warmly. "I knowed you'd help me, and that's what I wanted to see you for."
I thought it would be cruel to interrupt an operation so agreeable to him as that of eating, and I asked no questions. He looked grateful, and satisfactorily demonstrated that the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Though I was amused at his greediness, and enjoyed his appetite almost as much as he did himself, I did not wish to embarrass him; and, mounting the fallen tree, I walked upon its trunk so far from him that it was not convenient for him to speak to me. He had it all his own way; for I think it is mean to watch a hungry boy when he is eating, or to take note of the quantity he consumes.
From my position I could see the stream, and the pile of lumber over which I had moralized. Icould not help thinking that something must be done with those refuse logs and boards. I cannot exactly explain how it was, but that pile of senseless lumber seemed, in some indefinite manner, to connect itself with my affairs at the house. The thrashing I had just received from my two masculine tyrants assured me that I was no match for both of them. In a word, it was strongly impressed upon my mind that I could not stay in Torrentville much longer.
I had a taste for river scenery. Every night, when I went for the mail, I used to see the steamboat on the river; and I often thought I should be "made" if I could make a trip in her. Ever since my brother wrote that he should take us down to New Orleans in the fall, I had looked forward with intense joy to the voyage down the river. In a smaller way my raft had afforded me a great deal of pleasure on the waters of the swamp, though the swift current did not permit me to embark on the stream.
Perhaps the decided course of Sim Gwynn in leaving his disagreeable situation had some influence upon my reflections. I had often thought of doingthe same thing myself, and only my poor sister had prevented me from acting upon the suggestion. I had some money now. Why could I not go, and take her with me? But I had not enough to pay our fares to New Orleans, and there was no other place to which I could go. Besides, Captain Fishley would not let us go. If we went by any public conveyance, he could easily stop us.
"I have it!" I exclaimed, in a tone so loud that Sim was disturbed in his interesting occupation.
He started from his seat, and looked at me, with his mouth filled with food, his jaws suspending their pleasing occupation.
"Did you speak to me, Buck?" he called.
"No," I replied, walking towards him.
I looked at him, and realized that he was beginning to weary of his task. Doubtless he felt it to be a duty to eat all he could; but he had already disposed of the major part of what I had brought him, and was still struggling manfully with the balance.
"I heard you say, 'I have it,'" added Sim, jumbling the words through the food in his mouth.
"Well, I have it."
"So have I. That's the best meal of victuals I've had for a year. I'm sorry I can't eat no more."
"You will get hungry again."
"Shall I keep the rest of it?" he asked.
"Certainly; and when that is gone, I will bring you some more."
"Thank you, Buck. I knowed you'd help me, and that's what I wanted to see you for."
"I think I heard you say that before. Now, Sim, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," he replied, blankly.
"You have left Barkspear's. Are you going back again?"
"I don't know. That's what I wanted to see you for."
"Haven't you any idea what you intend to do?"
"Not the leastest grain in the world. That's what I wanted to see you for, you see."
"But you wish to do something."
"I don't care. If I get enough to eat, it don't make no difference to me. I shan't get much to eat if I go back to Barkspear's."
This seemed to be the great question with him. He was willing to work hard for enough to eat. He was not a dandy, and the clothes question did not trouble him. It was only terrible to be hungry.
"Sim, I'm going to run away myself," said I.
"What, from Fishley's?" he demanded, opening his eyes.
"Yes, from Fishley's."
"Don't they give you enough to eat?"
"Plenty."
"What do you want to run away for, then?" asked he; and, if the provision question was all right, he did not think there ought to be trouble about any other matter.
"They don't use me well, and they don't use my sister well."
"But they give you enough to eat."
"I would rather be starved than treated like a dog. My brother Clarence is going to take us away in the fall; but I don't think I can stand it till that time."
I took off my coat, and showed him one of the wales of the cowhide which my tyrants had left upon my arm.
"But they give you all you want to eat," he replied, pulling away the rags from his shoulder, and exhibiting some marks like my own. "I don't mind them things much if they will only let me have something to eat."
Sim was a puzzle to me. He was all stomach. Blows were nothing; food was everything.
"Where have you been since yesterday?" I asked.
"Laying round, looking for something to eat."
"Sim, we must build a raft," I added.
"What for?" he inquired, opening his eyes, as he always did when his muddy brain seized an idea.
"To run away on. Do you see those logs and boards?"
"I see them."
"Well, Sim, we can build a big raft, with a house on it,—a place to live in,—where we can cook, and sleep, and eat."
"Eat!" exclaimed he, opening his mouth wide enough to take in a good-sized leg of bacon.
"Of course, if we live on the raft, we must have something to eat."
"Can we get enough?" he asked, incredulously.
"You shall have all you want."
"Goody!" shouted he.
"You must keep still about it, and not say a word to any one."
"I don't see nobody. I have to keep out of sight, or Barkspear will catch me. I'm bound to him. I shan't tell nobody."
"In a few days we will have the house ready for you to live in; and I will bring you all you need to eat."
"That's all I want."
"You can work on the raft, and I will help you all I can."
"I will work from daylight till dark, if I only get something to eat."
I pushed the raft over to the pile of lumber. I was quite excited as soon as the idea had taken full possession of my mind. I was not satisfied that the plan of leaving Torrentville with Flora, on a raft, was practicable; but I could have the fun of planning and building it; and really this was all I expected to do. If worse came to worst, I couldget away from the town with my sister better by the way of the swamp than by the road. I explained to Sim more clearly what I intended to do, and how to construct the raft. He was even more enthusiastic than I was, for the scheme would enable him to help me, and thus pay for the provisions he consumed. He wanted to go to work at once; but nothing could be done without an axe, some nails, and other articles which I intended to procure.
I left Sim with the promise to see him again in the afternoon, and returned to the house. I was not attending school at all at this time, as the winter term had closed, and the summer one had not commenced, and I had nothing to do but work about the place. I went into the house, and talked with Flora. I told her what had happened—how I had been whipped by both father and son. She cried, and begged me not to disobey them any more.
"If they treat me decently, I will do all they tell me, Flora," I replied; "but I will not be trodden upon."
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the wagon, and I went out, in order that I mightnot be "tackled" before my sister. Captain Fishley gave me an ugly look; but I knew he would not say anything before his brother, and he did not. He told me Imightput the horse up, and I did so. But I felt that the day of settlement would come as soon as the squire departed.
At dinner-time I was sometimes required to stay in the store, and I was directed to do so on this day. I selected a couple of stout clothes-lines, a shingling hatchet, and put up two pounds of ten-penny nails. I wrote down the articles on a piece of paper, and carried it, with the five-dollar bill taken from my roll, to the captain. He gave me the change, without knowing who the customer was, and I concealed the articles in the barn. When I had eaten my dinner, and taken care of Darky and the pigs, I started for the swamp again, with the goods I had bought.
IfoundSim Gwynn at our landing-place on the verge of the swamp, which was a safe spot for him, as he could retreat, at the approach of a pursuer, where no one could follow him without a boat. On the raft lay a sharp axe, which assured me he had not remained in the swamp all the time during my absence.
"Where did you get that axe, Sim?" I asked, disturbed by an unpleasant fear that he had been disregarding the rights of property.
"I got it up to Barkspear's," replied he, laughing, as though he had done a clever thing.
"Then you must carry it back again, Sim. I won't have any stealing done!" I added, sharply.
"Hookie! You don't think I'd steal—do you, Buck Bradford?"
"Didn't you take that axe from Barkspear's?"
"Yes, I did; but that's my axe, you see; and that makes all the difference in the world. That axe was gin to me by Squire Mosely. His best cow got out, and came down into this swamp. She got mired in the mud, and couldn't get out. I dug her out for him, and took her home. Squire Mosely wanted to do something for me, and asked me what he should give me. I was going to say something to eat; but I felt kinder 'shamed. I was cuttin' wood for the fire, when he come over, with an old blunt axe, the only one Barkspear would let me use. So I told him I'd like a good axe, because I couldn't think of anything else I wanted. He gin me the best axe he could find in town. I used it when Barkspear wan't round; but I kept it hid away in the barn. I went up and got it after you left."
"All right, Sim; I don't want to have anything done that isn't right."
"What you goin' to do with them ropes, Buck?" he asked, as I threw the clothes-lines upon the raft.
"We want them to haul the logs out with."
Sim was in high spirits, and I concluded that hehad filled himself again from the provisions I brought. I was confident that he would be satisfied as long as the rations were supplied. We poled the raft over to the branch of the creek; and, as I had the plan of the structure we were to build in my mind, we lost no time in commencing the work.
"I don't know what you're goin' to do, Buck," said Sim, as he picked up his axe; "but I can chop as well as the best on 'em. If you'll tell me what to do, I'll go into it like a hund'ed of bricks."
"You won't need your axe yet," I replied, assured there would be no difference of opinion in regard to the manner of constructing the raft, for my companion had few ideas of his own. "We must build the raft on the stream."
I selected two logs from the pile, thirty feet in length, attached one of the lines to each of them, and hauled them out of the pile of lumber, though not till after we had secured the boards, slabs, and other smaller pieces. We placed them side by side over the deep water. I then nailed each end of a couple of slabs to the inner log, at the two extremities of it. We next rolled the outer log away from theother until the two were ten feet apart, and the other end of the slab was nailed to it, thus forming the shape of the raft—thirty feet long, and ten feet wide.
"Now, Sim, we want another log thirty feet long," I continued, when the work was laid out.
"I see it," replied Sim; and, in his eagerness to be useful, I was fearful he would tumble into the river, for he was rather clumsy in his movements.
I cut one of the lines in two, and carefully secured the frame to the trees on shore, using the other line to float the logs down to the structure. There was only one other stick in the heap that was thirty feet in length, and we pushed this under the cross slabs, and nailed it half way between the two. For the rest of the groundwork of the raft we were obliged to use shorter sticks; but we made a solid platform of large logs.
"Now, Sim, bring on your slabs, ten feet long," said I, as I took my hatchet and nails.
"I'll fetch 'em as fast as you can nail 'em on," replied my willing assistant.
"Take this pole as a measure, and cut them offthe right length. You can try your axe now," I added, throwing him a stick I had cut the width of the raft.
He kept me well supplied with materials, until I had covered the logs with slabs, nailing them down to each stick. By this time I had used up all my nails, and it was nearly the supper hour. I did not like to leave the work in which I was so much interested, but I had to go for the mail; and I wished to do so on the present occasion, in order to make some purchases in Riverport for the enterprise.
"I must go now, Sim," I said to my fellow-laborer.
"Hookie! You ain't a-goin' to stop work so soon—are you?" demanded he, with an aggrieved look.
"I must."
"But I want to do something more."
"You may cut up those small logs into pieces ten feet in length. They are to be placed crosswise on the raft, to keep us well up out of the water."
"I'll do it; and I'll have 'em all ready when you come down in the morning."
"Where are you going to sleep to-night, Sim?" I asked.
"I don't know—in somebody's barn," replied he with a grin, which made me feel that his lodging did not disturb him.
"You can sleep in our barn, if you like. No one goes into it very often, except myself."
"Thank ye, Buck. I always knowed you'd help me, and that was what I wanted to see you for."
"Have you anything left for supper?"
"Plenty, Buck. I couldn't eat all you gave me this forenoon."
"I will bring you a good supply in the morning."
I left him, and hastened back to the house. My tyrants had been so busy in entertaining their distinguished guest that they probably had not thought of me. The squire was in the parlor with Mrs. Fishley, who was as lovely as a summer day. She had company, and I was safe enough as long as the senator remained. My woes would come as soon as he departed; but I hoped to have the raft ready for a movement by that time.
Supper was not on the table, and I went intothe store to see if the mail was ready. Mr. Barkspear was there, engaged in telling Captain Fishley that his good-for-nothing "help" had run away and left him.
"Hev you seen anything of Sim Gwynn?" said Mr. Barkspear, turning to me as I entered the store.
That was a hard question, and I decided not to pay any attention to it. I asked Ham if the mail was ready to go, and was hastening out to the barn to harness Darky, when Captain Fishley called me back.
"Are you deaf, Buck?" demanded he, sharply, and with that ugly look he had worn since our troubles began.
"Not much," I replied.
"Mr. Barkspear asked you if you had seen Sim Gwynn. Why don't you answer him?"
"I would rather not answer him," I replied; for, whatever other faults I had, I felt above lying and stealing.
"That means, I s'pose, that you have seen him," added Barkspear, in that peculiar whining tone which always indicates a mean, stingy man.
I made no reply, for I had no idea of betraying Sim, on the one hand, or of lying, on the other.
"Why don't you speak, Buck?" growled the captain.
"I have seen him, and he has run away. That's all I have to say about it."
"I didn't think your boy would try to kiver him up. Sim hadn't any business to run away, jest when he was gittin' big enough to be some help to me about the farm."
"I would have run away if I had been in his place," I ventured to remark, perhaps foolishly, for I could not bear to see Barkspear assuming to be an injured man, when his own meanness had driven poor Sim from his home.
"I allus took care on him, and sent him to school every winter, when there warn't much to do; and it's shameful for him to treat me so. He hain't got no gratitude in him."
"Did you have any trouble with him?" asked the captain.
"Well, we did hev a little yesterday mornin'. He stole some things out of the house, and I licked him for't," replied Barkspear, rather sheepishly.
"He ought to be licked if he stole," said Captain Fishley, glancing sternly at me; "or if he didn't behave himself, and be respectful to his employers."
"What did he steal, Mr. Barkspear?" I asked, indignantly.
"Well, he stole some things out of the buttery."
"Yes, sir! That's just what he stole—something to eat! He didn't have breakfast enough to keep his stomach from grumbling, and he stole a piece of boiled pork and some cold potatoes."
"That boy eats more'n enough for four men!" exclaimed Barkspear, in disgust.
"No matter if he does; he ought not to be starved. In this house we have enough to eat, and that which is first rate too. When Sim told me he didn't get enough to eat, I pitied him, for I'm not used to such things."
Captain Fishley almost smiled at this "first-rate notice" of the fare at his house; and my judicious commendation saved me any more hard questions from him.
"When boys are growing, they feed pretty strong," added the captain, now entirely non-committal.
"Sim was half starved, and I gave him some of the good things from our buttery; and I don't think anybody here will say I stole them. They don't call it stealing when any one takes something to eat, either for himself or to give to some one that's hungry."
Captain Fishley looked benevolent and magnanimous, but he did not say anything. He took credit to himself for the state of things I explained.
"Sim has run away, and if you want to know where he has gone, you must ask some one besides me," I added.
"There! that will do," interposed the captain, sternly. "You may go and harness the horse."
While I was hitching Darky to the post, I saw Barkspear leave the store, and I do not think he obtained much sympathy from Captain Fishley. I wish I could have spoken as highly of the Christian love and kindness of his house as I had of its hospitality and good fare. We had an extra nice supper that evening, out of respect to the distinguished guest. Everything was pleasant at the table, and Mrs. Fishley seemed to be the loveliestwoman in the world. I am afraid there are a great many families that appear better before company than at other times.
When I was getting into the wagon to go to Riverport with the mail, Squire Fishley presented himself, and said he would ride a little way with me, and walk back. He seated himself by my side, and I drove off. I was glad he was only going a short distance, for his presence would have interfered with my operations in procuring supplies for the raft. But I was glad to see him alone, for I wished to ask him whether the whole forty-six dollars he had given me was intended for me. If it was a mistake, I did not desire to take advantage of it, though the loss of the money would defeat my enterprise with the raft.
"Didyou know how much money you gave me, Squire Fishley?" I asked of my distinguished companion, as I drove over the bridge.
"No, I did not; and I don't wonder that you ask, Buck," he replied, very solemnly.
"You gave me forty-six dollars, sir."
"Forty-six," he added, taking out his large pocket-book.
He did not seem to be at all astonished at the magnitude of the sum, and I wondered what he was going to do. Much as I dreaded the loss of the money, I was satisfied that he had made a mistake, and I felt that it would not be honest for me to keep it without informing him. Of course I expected to be commended for my honesty in refusing to take advantage of a drunken man's mistake; buthe did not say a word, only fumbled over the thick pile of bank notes in his pocket-book, for the purpose, I judged, of ascertaining whether he had lost any or not. To my astonishment, however, he took two bills from the pile, and handed them to me.
"What's that for?" I asked, involuntarily taking the bills.
"I meant to give you more," said he.
"More!" I exclaimed.
"I didn't know what I was about very well last night," he added, with a groan which expressed the anguish he felt for his error. "I ought to have given you a hundred."
"Why, no, sir! I don't ask anything," I replied, confounded by his words.
"You don't understand it as well as I do," said he, shaking his head, and bestowing a mournful look upon me.
"But I can't take a hundred dollars, sir."
"Yes, you can, and you must. I shall not feel right about it if you don't. It ought to be a thousand; but I shall make it up to you some time."
"Why, Squire Fishley, if you had given me acouple of dollars, I should have thought you had treated me very handsomely," I protested.
"You saved my life."
"I don't know as I did."
"But you did more than that for me. I was intoxicated; I cannot deny it. I fell into the river in that state. If I had been found drowned, the cause of my death would have been rum!" he added, with a shudder. "I have always been classed with the moderate drinkers, though sometimes I don't taste of liquor for a week. Rather to oblige my friends than to gratify my own taste, I drank with them till I was in the state you saw me. I was drunk. What a scandal to my family, to my position, to my church! If it could have been said the Hon. Moses Fishley was drowned in consequence of getting intoxicated, I should not have slept in peace in my grave. You saved my life; and I am sure no one knew me, so that I hope to save my reputation. It has been a terrible lesson to me, and with God's forgiveness for the past, and his help for the future, I will never drink another drop of wine or liquor."
"I am sorry it happened, sir; but I am willing to do all I can for you without any money," I interposed.
"My gratitude, if nothing else, compels me to give you what I have given; and I hope you never will mention the matter."
"Never, sir!"
"I know that I deserve the humiliation of an exposure," continued the squire, in a very mournful tone; "but I feel that the facts would injure the cause of truth and religion more than they would injure me. My brother used to think I was a hypocrite because I attended to the concerns of the soul. I don't know that he has thought so since I went into the Senate. He used to laugh at me for going to the prayer meetings; and I don't know what he would say if he should learn that I got drunk and fell into the river."
"He will never find it out from me, sir; but I don't want all this money."
"Keep it; but I trust you will not spend it foolishly, nor let my brother know that you have it."
"I will do neither. Captain Fishley and I don'tget along well enough together for me to say anything to him."
"Why, what's the matter?"
I told my story; for I felt that if the senator could trust me, I could trust him. I did not say anything about my half-formed intention to run away. The squire was very sorry there was any trouble; but, as it was a family matter, he did not like to say much about it, though he promised to do all he could for me.
"I think I won't go any farther, Buck," said he. "I suppose you will despise me, for you know me better than any other person."
"I'm sure I don't despise you."
"I'm confident my misfortune—if it can be called by that name—is all for the best. When I go home, I shall come out for temperance, and I think this journey will do me good."
I thought it must be very mortifying for him to talk to me in that way; but he was sincerely penitent, and I am sure he was a better Christian than ever before. He was a truer man than his brother in every respect, and I should have had a highregard for him, even if he had not given me a hundred dollars.
I had money enough now to pay my own and my sister's passage to New Orleans in a steamboat; but I was so fascinated with the raft that I could not think of abandoning it. I was going to build a house upon it; and my fancy pictured its interior, and the pleasure we might enjoy in it, floating down the river. It was a very brilliant ideal which I had made up in connection with the new craft.
In due time I reached Riverport, and obtained the mail-bag. At the post-office, I happened to meet the landlord of the hotel, who wanted to know how Squire Fishley was. I told him he was quite well.
"They say there was a man drowned in the river last night," he added. "I'm glad to hear from Squire Fishley."
"It wasn't the squire," I replied. "He went home with me."
"It was somebody else then; but nobody seems to know who it was."
I did not enlighten him. In the Riverport Standard there was an item in regard to the accident,which stated that "an elderly gentleman, under the influence of liquor, had fallen from the gang-plank of the steamer into the river," and that "a young man had attempted to save him; but, as neither of them had been heard from, it was supposed that both were drowned. But it was possible they had been saved, and had continued on their journey in that or some other steamer." I learned that a great deal had been said about the affair in the town, and I never heard that any satisfactory solution of the mystery was obtained. The squire was safe, and that was all I cared for.
At a store where I was not known I purchased ten pounds of nails, and such other articles of hardware as would be needed in carrying on the work upon the raft. The method of supplying Sim with provisions was a more difficult problem; but, at a restaurant near the steamboat landing, I bought a boiled ham, which I thought would keep my hungry assistant alive for several days. I also purchased a keg of crackers, half a cheese, a couple of loaves of soft bread, and a basket to carry them in. I was rich, and did not mind the expense.
When I arrived home, I took the basket and the hardware to the back side of the barn; but before I went to bed I saw Sim, and told him where they were. Before I made my appearance in the morning he had carried them away to the swamp. Everything had worked successfully thus far. Sim was in no danger of starving, and I was relieved of the necessity of feeding him from the buttery of the house.
I gave Squire Fishley a copy of the Standard, and pointed out to him the paragraph in relation to the "elderly gentleman under the influence of liquor." He turned pale and trembled as he read it; but I assured him he was perfectly safe, and that no one but myself was in possession of his secret.
After breakfast, when I had finished my regular "chores," I hastened to the swamp to work on the raft. I cannot describe the satisfaction which this labor, and the thinking of it, afforded me. It was fully equal to a trip down the river in a steamboat. Day after day, and night after night, in my trips to Riverport, and in my bed, I anticipated the voyage down the stream, and the pleasure of keeping house in our mansion on the raft, with Flora and Sim.
After three days' hard work, we had the body of the raft completed. We had covered the long logs with short ones, and on the upper tier laid a flooring of slabs, which were more plentiful than boards, as they were thrown away by the saw-mills above. The platform was more than a foot above the surface of the water, and I was confident that it would carry us high and dry.
It only remained to build the house—the most pleasing because it was the most difficult part of the job. This structure was to be eighteen feet long and six feet wide, placed in the middle of the platform. I put together two frames of the requisite size, forming the sills and plates of the building, and boarded them up and down, leaving three windows on each side, and a door at the rear end. I made the rafters of slabs, with the round side down.
On the fifth day, so enthusiastically had we labored, I expected to complete the outside of the house, so that Sim could sleep in it. I was putting on the last of the roof boards, which lapped over so as to shed the rain, when an unfortunate circumstance occurred to delay the work. My bow-leggedfriend and fellow-laborer was the most willing boy in the world. He was quite skilful in the use of the axe; but he was very awkward in his movements, and did not always work to the best advantage.
Towards the last of the work, we had come short of boards, and I was thinking of going to the saw-mills, seven miles up the stream, to buy a few to complete the work. But there was a heavy rain in the night, which raised the creek, and brought down quite a number of them. I had swung a boom out so as to catch them. Sim had just hauled one of these, soaked with water, out of the river. While he was raising the end to hand it up to me, on the roof, his feet slipped, and he went into the stream with a "chug," like a frog.
Sim could not swim, and he began to flop about in the wildest and most unreasonable manner. I threw him a board, but he did not seem to have sense enough to grasp it. I saw that he would be drowned in a moment more, unless he received more efficient help. I was fearfully alarmed for his safety; and, though I could swim like a fish, I doubted my ability to handle such a clumsy fellow in the water.
Kicking off my shoes, I dived after him from the roof of the house; for he had gone down, and I was not sure that he would come up again. I could not help thinking that this accident had ruined my enterprise. Though it seemed to be a long time to me, and doubtless a much longer time to him, he had not been in the water more than three seconds when I dived after him.
SIM GWYNN'S MISHAP.—Page141.
I did not find him under the water; but, when I rose to the surface, I saw him a rod or more below me, floundering about like a crazy alligator.
AlthoughI was abundantly able to take care of myself in the water, and even to do a little more than that, I was really afraid to approach Sim Gwynn, he struggled so violently. I was satisfied, if I did so, that he would swamp me as well as himself. We were both floating down the stream with the current, and all the chances seemed to be against us.
Sim had struggled till his strength was in a measure wasted. I saw that he was going down again, and though I feared it would cost me my own life, I decided to grapple with him. A couple of strokes with my arms brought me to him, and I seized him by the collar. The moment he was conscious of the presence of something near him, he began to struggle more violently than ever. Hethrew his arms tight around my body, and hugged me in what I thought would be the death-gripe.
Vainly I tried to shake him off. The more I labored, the closer he clung to me, as if fearful that I should escape his grasp. I believed that my last moment had come. I gave myself up in despair, and thought of Flora—what would become of her. I asked God to forgive all my sins—which seemed like a mountain to me in that awful moment.
I rested but an instant while these thoughts rushed through my brain. I felt myself going down. It was useless to do so, I felt; but I could not help making one more struggle for the boon of life. It would have been useless if a kind Providence had not come to my aid, for my strength was nearly exhausted, and I was utterly inadequate to the task of bearing up the heavy burden of my companion.
My head struck against a log, one end of which had grounded on the shore, while the other projected out over the deep water of the stream. I clutched it, threw my arms around it, and hugged it as though it was the dearest friend on earth. I threw myself across it, so as to bring Sim's head out of the water,and waited to recover my wasted breath. Our united weight on the end of the log detached it from the shore, and we were again floating down the stream. I clung to my support; and such a sweet rest as that was I had never before known. The life seemed to come back to me, and every breath of air I drew in was a fountain of strength to my frame.
Still Sim clung to me, and appeared not to know that there was anything else to sustain him. As my powers came back to me, I drew myself farther up on the log, and tried to release my body from the gripe of my senseless companion.
"Sim!" I shouted.
He did not answer me. Was he dead? I trembled at the thought.
"Sim!" I cried again, louder than before.
"Ugh!" said he, with a shudder that thrilled my frame.
He was not dead, or even wholly unconscious. With one arm hugging the log, I tried with the other to release myself from his bearish gripe.
"Let go of me, Sim!" I screamed to him.
But he would not, or could not. After a desperate effort, I succeeded in throwing one of my legs over the log; and, thus supported, I found myself better able to work efficiently. With a mighty struggle, I shook him off, and he would have gone to the bottom if I had not seized his hand as he threw it up. I placed his arm on the log, and he grappled with it as though it had been a monster threatening his destruction.
After pausing a moment to rest, I pulled him farther up on the log. Then, for the first time, I felt safe. The battle had been fought, and won. I believed Sim had lost his senses. He was stupefied, rather than deprived of any actual power. It was the terror rather than any real injury which overcame him. I permitted him to remain quiet for a moment, to recover his breath.
"Sim!" said I, when he began to look around him, and show some signs of returning reason.
"Ugh! That's what I wanted to see you for, Buck," gasped he.
I could not laugh, though his wild stare and incoherent words were ludicrous.
"You are safe now, Sim," I added.
"I'm dead—drownded."
"No, you are not. You are safe."
"No! Am I? Hookie!"
I had placed myself astride the log, and was now in a comfortable position. I moved up to him, when I found it was safe to approach him, and assisted him into an easier posture. Gradually I restored him to his former self, and finally assured him that he was still in the land of the living, where he might remain if he would only be reasonable.
"Where are we going to?" he asked.
"Down the river."
"Down to New Orleans?"
"Not yet, if you will behave like a man. Have a little pluck, Sim."
"I dassent!" replied he, with a shake of his frame.
"Now hold on tight! I'm going to try to get ashore," I called to him, as I saw that the current would carry us under the overhanging branch of a tree, which I could reach by making a strong effort.
"Don't leave me, Buck!" pleaded he, in his terror.
"I won't leave you. Cling to the log," I replied, as I jumped up, and succeeded in grasping the branch of the tree.
I pulled it down till I got hold of a part strong enough to check the progress of the log; but the current was so swift that I was nearly dragged from it. By twining my legs around the log, I held on till its momentum was overcome; and then I had no difficulty in drawing it in till the end touched the shore. After much persuasion I induced Sim to work himself along the stick till he reached the dry land; for we had passed beyond the greatest depression in the swamp, where the stream did not cover the banks.
Eagerly he passed from the log to the bank, and actually danced with joy when he found himself once more on the solid earth.
"Hookie! Hookie!" shouted he, opening his mouth from ear to ear, while his fat face lighted up with an expression of delight, like a baby with a new rattle.
"Are you going to let me go down stream, Sim?" I called to him, reproachfully, for he seemed to have more regard for his own safety than for mine.
"What shall I do?" he asked, blankly; and he appeared to have an idea that I could not possibly need any assistance from him.
"Catch hold of the end of the log, and haul it up so that I can get ashore. If I let go the branch, the log will go down stream again."
Sim lifted the log, and hauled it far out of the water. He was as strong as an ox now, though he had been as weak as an infant a few moments before. I crawled up the stick, and went ashore. The moment I was fairly on the land, Sim threw his arms around my neck, and hugged me as though I had been his baby, blubbering in incoherent terms his gratitude and love.
"Hold on, Sim! You have hugged me enough for one day," said I, shaking him off.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted he.
"Silence, Sim," I added.
I threw myself on my knees, dripping with water as I was.
"O Lord God, I thank thee for saving my life, and for saving Sim's life. In my heart I thank thee, O Lord. May it be a good lesson to him and me. May we both try to be better boys, and obey thy holy law as we have never done before."
I had never prayed before in my life, but I could not help it then. I felt that God had saved my life, and that I could not be so wicked as not to pray to him then. My heart was full of gratitude, and I felt the better for speaking it.
I opened my eyes, and saw Sim kneeling before me, very reverently, and I realized that he was as sincere as I was. He was not satisfied with hearing. He uttered a prayer himself, using nearly my own words. He finished, and both of us were silent for several minutes. However long I may live, I shall never forget the agony of that fearful moment, when, with Sim clinging to me, I felt myself going down, never to come up; never to see the light of the blessed sun again; never more to look into the eyes of my loving sister. The influence of that thrilling incident will go with me to the end of my days, and I am sure it has made me a better man.
We walked through the swamp to the open prairie beyond, where the sun shone brightly. We took off our clothes, and wrung them out, and then lay in the sunshine to dry them. We talked of the event of the afternoon, and Sim, in his bungling speech, poured forth his gratitude to me for saving his life. I staid there till it was time for me to go back to the house. My clothes were still wet, and I crept through the back entry up to my chamber and changed them. Squire Fishley was going home that day, and was to ride down to Riverport with me.
I was sorry he was going, for during his visit our house seemed to be a paradise. Mrs. Fishley was all smiles, and never spoke a cross word, never snarled at Flora or at me. If the squire had been a steady boarder at his brother's, I should have been content to cut my raft adrift, and let it go down the river without me. He was going home, and there would be a storm as soon as he departed.
During the week of the senator's stay, not a word was said about Miss Larrabee's letter; and Ham appeared about the same as usual. I observed hismovements with interest and curiosity. Sometimes I thought he was more troubled than was his habit. After the thrashing his father had given me, he seemed to be satisfied that I had been "paid off," and he was tolerably civil to me, though I concluded that he did not wish to have any more difficulty during the visit of the distinguished guest.
After supper, with my passenger, I drove down to Riverport. On the way he talked very kindly to me, and gave me much good advice. He counselled me to "seek the Lord," who would give me strength to bear all my troubles. He told me he had spoken to his brother about me, but he was afraid he had done more harm than good, for the captain did not seem to like it that I had said anything to the guest about my ill usage.
I bade him good by at the hotel, where he was to spend the night; and we parted the best of friends, with a promise on his part to do something for me in the future. After changing the mail-bags at the post-office, I went to several stores, and picked up various articles to furnish the house on the raft, including a small second-hand cook-stove, with eightfeet of pipe, for which I paid four dollars, and a few dishes and some table ware.
I succeeded in placing these things in the wheelbarrow, back of the barn, without detection. Early in the morning Sim wheeled them down to the swamp. When I joined him after breakfast, I found he had waded through the water to the branch, and brought up the small raft, upon which he had loaded the stove and other articles. Before noon that day, the outside of the house was done, and the cook-stove put up. I went home to dinner as usual, that my absence might not be noticed.
"Where have you been all the forenoon?" demanded Captain Fishley, in the most uncompromising of tones.
The storm was brewing.
"Whereon airth have you been?" said Mrs. Fishley, chiming in with her husband; and if I had not realized before, I did now, that the squire had actually gone home.
"I haven't been a great ways," I replied.
As the fact of my absence, rather than where I had been, was the great grievance with my tyrants, I concluded not to tell them in what precise locality I had spent the forenoon. The old order of things was fully restored. It was snap, snarl, and growl. But I soon learned that there was something more than this. Captain Fishley and Ham both looked glum and savage; but they ate their dinner in silence.
"Buck, I want you," said the captain, in a very ugly tone, as I was going to the barn after dinner. "Come into the store."
I followed him into the shop. He sat down behind the post-office counter, looked at me sternly, and then gazed at the floor.
"Where have you been to-day?" said he, after his gaze had vibrated for some time between me and the floor.
"I haven't been far."
"Buck, have you got any money?" he added, sharply, and putting the question as a home thrust at me.
"Yes, sir, I have," I replied, startled by the inquiry; for it was evident to me now that the storm was coming in the shape of a tempest.
"How much have you got?"
"I haven't got any of your money," I answered.
If Ham could rob the mail, it would not be a very hard step for him to take to rob his father's pocket-book; and I began to think he had done so, charging the crime upon me.
"I didn't say you had got any of my money," added Captain Fishley. "I asked you how much you had."
"What do you want to know for?"
"No matter what I want to know for. Why don't you answer me?"
"Because I don't choose to answer you," I replied, saucily.
I felt innocent, and I could not tell him anything about my money without exposing his brother. He made a movement towards me, and I thought he was going to seize me by the collar. I jumped over the counter, for I had all my money in my pocket, and I did not care about being searched.
"Come back here!" said he, savagely.
"I am just as well here."
"Will you tell me how much money you have got, or shall I send for the constable?" he continued.
"You may send for the constable, if you like; but I haven't any money that belongs to you, or anybody but myself."
"Yes, you have! You have been robbing the mail!" retorted my tyrant, fiercely.
Robbing the mail! I saw through the mill-stone. The postmaster had heard from Miss Larrabee, or her brother, in regard to the missing letter, andI was accused of purloining it! No doubt Captain Fishley thought I was the robber. Probably Ham had charged the crime upon me, and his father was willing to believe him.
"I have not robbed the mail," I replied, smartly.
"Yes, you did; and I can prove it. You had better own it, and give back the money."
"I didn't take the money."
"What's the use to deny it, Buck?" said he, more mildly. "If you will own it, and give back the money, I will try and make it as easy as I can for you."
"I tell you I didn't take the money, and I won't own it when I didn't do it."
"Well, just as you like, Buck. If you won't give up the money, I shall have to hand you over to the constable, and see what he can do."
"You may hand me over to the constable as much as you please. Neither he nor anybody else can make me own up to what I didn't do."
"Why will you persist in saying you didn't do it?"
"Because I didn't do it."
"I can prove it."
"Let's see you prove it."
"You carry the mail to Riverport and back."
"I know it; but I don't have any key to the bag."
"You know where the key is," said he, earnestly. "This morning I had a letter from Miss Larrabee's brother, saying that he sent his sister forty dollars, which must have come on before she left."
"That don't prove that I took it," I interposed; for I wished to know what the trap was before I said anything about Ham.
"It proves that the letter came. I've been down to Riverport this forenoon, and seen the postmaster there. He says the name was an odd one to him, and he distinctly remembers seeing it when he sorted the mail. I haven't any doubt the letter came to this office."
"Nor I either," I replied, glancing at Ham, who had taken position by his father's side to hear what was said.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Captain Fishley, puzzled by my remark.
"You haven't proved that I took the letter."
"It came here, but none of us saw it. The very night the mail containing that letter came in, you were seen counting money."
"Who saw me?" I asked.
"Ham saw you—didn't you, Ham?" replied the captain, appealing to his son.
"Yes, I did. After I came home from Crofton's, I put on my old rubbers, and went out to the barn after the lantern. I found Buck on the hay-loft, counting a roll of bank bills," answered Ham, glibly.
"How much was there?" asked the postmaster.
"I asked him how much he had, but he wouldn't tell me," replied Ham. "He said it was a little money that he had made on his own account."
"How did you make it, Buck?"
"I made it honestly, and I did not steal it," was the only safe answer I could give.
I confess that it must have looked very bad for me; but I could not expose Squire Fishley, and my lips were sealed.
"How much did there appear to be, Ham?" continued Captain Fishley; and I must do him thejustice to say that he now appeared to be only anxious to elicit the truth.
"I don't know. I thought there were five or six bills. It was a good deal of money for him to have, anyhow. I didn't think much about it till since we found this letter was lost."
"Didn't you, Ham Fishley?" said I, looking him right in the eye. "Youknow very well that I didn't take that letter."
"I know it!" repeated he, trying to bluster; but I saw that it was hard work.
"Yes, you know it, if your father don't."
"I don't see who could have taken it, if he didn't," added Ham, turning to his father.
"Don't you, Ham?" I shouted, in my excitement.
"Of course he took it," said the postmaster. "He isn't willing to tell where he got that money, which he don't deny having."
"I can't tell where I got it, without injuring some one else; but I most solemnly declare that I did not steal it, nor take the letter."
"That's all in your eye," said Ham.
"Itwasall in my eye the night the mail wasrobbed," I replied. "I didn't do it; but I saw it done; and I know who did it, Ham Fishley."
"Humph! I shouldn't wonder if he meant to lay it to me, father!" added Ham.
"That's just what I mean to do. I saw Ham take the money out of the envelope, and then burn the letter."
"Well, that's a good one!" said Ham, laughing heartily; but his face was pale, and his laugh hollow.
Captain Fishley looked at his son earnestly. Perhaps he saw the unrealness of his mirth. Ham was extravagant in his demonstrations, and so far overdid the matter, that even his father must have been troubled with a suspicion that all was not right in relation to him.
"Buck Bradford, you have a large sum of money about you," said he. "Have you not?"
"No matter how much," I answered.
"You have forty dollars. Will you deny it?"
"I will neither own nor deny it. I have nothing to say about it."
"Ham saw you have five or six bills. Now, youmust tell me where you got that money, or I shall believe you robbed the mail."
"I shall not tell you," I replied, firmly. "If it was right for me to do so, I would; but it isn't right, and I can't."
"That's rich!" sneered Ham. "If you want any better evidence than that, you will have to send to Texas after it. His trying to lay it to me is the best proof I want."
"Ham Fishley, you know that what I have said is true," I continued indignantly. "You know that you opened that mail-bag after you came home from Crofton's, put the money in your pocket, and burned the letter."
"Of course that's perfectly ridiculous," said Ham, angrily.
"I'm tired of this jaw," added Captain Fishley, in disgust. "Buck, come round here."
"I know what you want, and I think I won't do it," I replied, leaving the store.
"Ham, go over to Stevens's, and tell him I want to see him," said my tyrant, coming to the door.
Stevens was a constable. I was not anxious tosee him. I went to the barn, and by a roundabout way reached the swamp. I need hardly say that I was in great excitement and alarm. The constable was to be put upon my track; but I was not at all afraid that he would find me in the swamp, which for nearly half a mile had three feet of water on the ground. He could not reach me at the raft without a boat.
I went to work upon the interior of the house, put up a partition to divide Flora's room from the rest of the space, and built a bunk in her apartment. I had already rigged a steering oar, and at one end of the raft I had set up a mast, on which I intended to spread a square-sail for use when the wind was favorable. I worked very hard all the afternoon, and kept Sim as busy as I was myself in sawing boards of the right length for the work.
The raft was in condition to go down the river, though it was not yet finished. I was ready to start that very night, if necessary. I was confident that I was to be persecuted, if not prosecuted, for robbing the mail. As long as I could not explain where I obtained the money which Ham had unfortunatelyseen, I was not able to clear myself of the suspicion. Before I left the swamp, I concealed all my money, but a few dollars, in the hollow of a tree.
I was not afraid of the constable. I determined to go back to the house, and trust to my wits for safety. I went into the kitchen as usual, where Captain Fishley and his wife were just sitting down to supper.
"Where have you been all the afternoon?" asked he, in a milder tone than I expected to hear him use.
"Keeping out of the way of the constable," I replied.
"I don't want to call the constable for you, but I shall if you don't give up the money," added Captain Fishley.
"I haven't got it. What I said about Ham was the truth."
"The wicked wretch!" gasped Mrs. Fishley. "Why don't you send for the constable?"
Poor Flora had heard the story about me, and she trembled with apprehension. How I pitied her!
"I will hand him over to Stevens to-morrow, if he don't give up the money before that time," added the captain.
I was not permitted to go after the mail that night. The postmaster went himself, and his wife accompanied him to "do some shopping."