CHAPTER VII.
MR. CHIPPERTON.
I took hold of the boat, and pulled the bow up on the beach. Mr.Chipperton looked around at me.
"Why, how do you do?" said he.
"WHY, HOW DO YOU DO?"]
For an instant I could not answer him, I was so angry, and then I said:
"What did you----? How did you come to take our boat away?"
"Your boat!" he exclaimed. "Is this your boat? I didn't know that. Butwhere is my boat? Did you see a sail-boat leave here? It is verystrange--remarkably strange! I don't know what to make of it."
"I know nothing about a sail-boat," said I. "If we had seen one leavehere, we should have gone home in her. Why did you take our boat?"
Mr. Chipperton had now landed.
"I came over here," he said, "with my wife and daughter. We were in asail-boat, with a man to manage it. My wife would not come otherwise. Wecame to see the light-house, but I do not care for light-houses,--I haveseen a great many of them. I am passionately fond of the water. Seeing asmall boat here which no one was using, I let the man conduct my wifeand Corny--my daughter--up to the light-house, while I took a littlerow. I know the man. He is very trustworthy. He would let no harm cometo them. There was a pair of oars in the sail-boat, and I took them, androwed down the creek, and then went along the river, below the town;and, I assure you, sir, I went a great deal farther than I intended, forthe tide was with me. But it wasn't with me coming back, of course, andI had a very hard time of it. I thought I never should get back. Thisboat of yours, sir, seems to be an uncommonly hard boat to row."
"Against a strong tide, I suppose it is," said I; "but I wish you hadn'ttaken it. Here I have been waiting ever so long, and my friend----"
"Oh! I'm sorry, too," interrupted Mr. Chipperton, who had been lookingabout, as if he expected to see his sail-boat somewhere under the trees."I can't imagine what could have become of my boat, my wife, and mychild. If I had staid here, they could not have sailed away without myknowing it. It would even have been better to go with them, although, asI said before, I don't care for light-houses."
"Well," said I, not quite as civilly as I generally speak to peopleolder than myself, "your boat has gone, that is plain enough. I suppose,when your family came from the light-house, they thought you had gonehome, and so went themselves."
"That's very likely," said he,--"very likely indeed. Or, it may be thatCorny wouldn't wait. She is not good at waiting. She persuaded hermother to sail away, no doubt. But now I suppose you will take me homein your boat, and the sooner we get off the better, for it is growinglate."
"You needn't be in a hurry," said I, "for I am not going off until myfriend comes back. You gave him a good long walk to the other end of theisland."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Chipperton. "How was that?"
Then I told him all about it.
"Do you think that the flat-boat is likely to be there yet?" he asked.
"It's gone, long ago," said I; "and I'm afraid Rectus has lost his way,either going there or coming back."
I said this as much to myself as to my companion, for I had walked backa little to look up the path. I could not see far, for it was growingdark. I was terribly worried about Rectus, and would have gone to lookfor him, but I was afraid that if I left Mr. Chipperton he would go offwith the boat.
Directly Mr. Chipperton set up a yell.
"Hi! hi! hi!" he cried.
I ran down to the pier, and saw a row-boat approaching.
"Hi!" cried Mr. Chipperton. "Come this way! Come here! Boat ahoy!"
"We're coming!" shouted a man from the boat. "Ye needn't holler for us."
And in a few more strokes the boat touched land. There were two men init.
"Did you come for me?" cried Mr. Chipperton.
"No," said the man who had spoken. "We came for this other party, but Ireckon you can come along."
"For me?" said I. "Who sent you?"
"Your pardner," said the man. "He came over in a flat-boat, and he saidyou was stuck here, for somebody had stole your boat, and so he sent usfor you."
"And he's over there, is he?" said I.
"Yes, he's all right, eatin' his supper, I reckon. But isn't this hereyour boat?"
"Yes, it is," I said, "and I'm going home in it. You can take the otherman."
And, without saying another word, I picked up my oars, which I hadbrought from the bushes, jumped into my boat, and pushed off.
"I reckon you're a little riled, aint ye?" said the man; but I made himno answer, and left him to explain to Mr. Chipperton his remark aboutstealing the boat. They set off soon after me, and we had a race downthe creek. I _was_ "a little riled," and I pulled so hard that the otherboat did not catch up to me until we got out into the river. Then itpassed me, but it didn't get to town much before I did.
The first person I met on the pier was Rectus. He had had his supper,and had come down to watch for me. I was so angry that I would not speakto him. He kept by my side, though, as I walked up to the house,excusing himself for going off and leaving me.
"You see, it wasn't any use for me to take that long walk back there tothe creek. I told the men of the fix we were in, and they said they'dsend somebody for us, but they thought I'd better come along with them,as I was there."
I had a great mind to say something here, but I didn't.
"It wouldn't have done you any good for me to come back through thewoods in the dark. The boat wouldn't get over to you any faster. Yousee, if there'd been any good at all in it, I would have come back--butthere wasn't."
All this might have been very true, but I remembered how I had sat andwalked and thought and worried about Rectus, and his explanation did meno good.
When I reached the house, I found that our landlady, who was one of thevery best women in all Florida, had saved me a splendid supper--hot andsmoking. I was hungry enough, and I enjoyed this meal until there didn'tseem to be a thing left. I felt in a better humor then, and I hunted upRectus, and we talked along as if nothing had happened. It wasn't easyto keep mad with Rectus, because he didn't get mad himself. And,besides, he had a good deal of reason on his side.
It was a lovely evening, and pretty nearly all the people of the townwere out-of-doors. Rectus and I took a walk around the "Plaza,"--apublic square planted thick with live-oak and pride-of-India trees, andwith a monument in the centre with a Spanish inscription on it, statinghow the king of Spain once gave a very satisfactory charter to the town.Rectus and I agreed, however, that we would rather have a pride-of-Indiatree than a charter, as far as we were concerned. These trees have onthem long bunches of blossoms, which smell deliciously.
"Now, then," said I, "I think it's about time for us to be moving along.I'm beginning to feel about that Corny family as you do."
"Oh, I only objected to the girl," said Rectus, in an off-hand way.
"Well, I object to the father," said I. "I think we've had enough,anyway, of fathers and daughters. I hope the next couple we fall in withwill be a mother and a son."
"What's the next place on the bill?" asked Rectus.
"Well," said I, "we ought to take a trip up the Oclawaha River. That'sone of the things to do. It will take us two or three days, and we canleave our baggage here and come back again. Then, if we want to stay, wecan, and if we don't, we needn't."
"All right," said Rectus. "Let's be off to-morrow."
The next morning, I went to buy the Oclawaha tickets, while Rectus staidhome to pack up our handbags, and, I believe, to sew some buttons on hisclothes. He could sew buttons on so strongly that they would never comeoff again without bringing the piece out with them.
The ticket-office was in a small store, where you could get any kind ofalligator or sea-bean combination that the mind could dream of. We hadbeen in there before to look at the things. I found I was in luck, forthe storekeeper told me that it was not often that people could getberths on the little Oclawaha steam-boats without engaging them somedays ahead; but he had a couple of state
-rooms left, for the boat thatleft Pilatka the next day. I took one room as quick as lightning, and Ihad just paid for the tickets when Mr. Chipperton and Corny walked in.
"How d' ye do?" said he, as cheerfully as if he had never gone off withanother fellow's boat. "Buying tickets for the Oclawaha?"
I had to say yes, and then he wanted to know when we were going. Iwasn't very quick to answer; but the storekeeper said:
"He's just taken the last room but one in the boat that leaves Pilatkato-morrow morning."
"And when do you leave here to catch that boat?" said Mr. Chipperton.
"This afternoon,--and stay all night at Pilatka."
"Oh, father! father!" cried Corny, who had been standing with her eyesand ears wide open, all this time, "let's go! let's go!"
"I believe I will," said Mr. Chipperton,--"I believe I will. You say youhave one more room. All right. I'll take it. This will be very pleasant,indeed," said he, turning to me. "It will be quite a party. It's ever somuch better to go to such places in a party. We've been thinking ofgoing for some time, and I'm so glad I happened in here now. Good-bye.We'll see you this afternoon at the depot."
I didn't say anything about being particularly glad, but just as I leftthe door Corny ran out after me.
"Do you think it would be any good to take a fishing-line?" she cried.
"Guess you'd better," I shouted back, and then I ran home, laughing.
"Here are the tickets!" I cried out to Rectus, "and we've got to be atthe station by four o'clock this afternoon. There's no backing out now."
"Who wants to back out?" said Rectus, looking up from his trunk, intowhich he had been diving.
"Can't say," I answered. "But I know one person who wont back out."
"Who's that?"
"Corny," said I.
Rectus stood up.
"Cor----!" he exclaimed.
"Ny," said I, "and father and mother. They took the only roomleft,--engaged it while I was there."
"Can't we sell our tickets?" asked Rectus.
"Don't know," said I. "But what's the good? Who's going to be afraid ofa girl,--or a whole family, for that matter? We're in for it now."
Rectus didn't say anything, but his expression saddened.
We had studied out this trip the night before, and knew just what we hadto do. We first went from St. Augustine, on the sea-coast, to Tocoi, onthe St. John's River, by a railroad fifteen miles long. Then we took asteam-boat up the St. John's to Pilatka, and the next morning left forthe Oclawaha, which runs into the St. John's about twenty-five milesabove, on the other side of the river.
We found the Corny family at the station, all right, and Cornyimmediately informed me that she had a fishing-line, but didn't bring apole, because her father said he could cut her one, if it was needed. Hedidn't know whether it was "throw-out" fishing or not, on that river.
There used to be a wooden railroad here, and the cars were pulled bymules. It was probably more fun to travel that way, but it took longer.Now they have steel rails and everything that a regular grown-uprailroad has. We knew the engineer, for Mr. Cholott had introduced us tohim one day, on the club-house wharf. He was a first-rate fellow, andlet us ride on the engine. I didn't believe, at first, that Rectus woulddo this; but there was only one passenger car, and after the Cornyfamily got into that, he didn't hesitate a minute about the engine.
We had a splendid ride. We went slashing along through the woods thewhole way, and as neither of us had ever ridden on an engine before, wemade the best of our time. We found out what every crank and handle wasfor, and kept a sharp look-out ahead, through the little windows in thecab. If we had caught an alligator on the cow-catcher, the thing wouldhave been complete. The engineer said there used to be alligators alongby the road, in the swampy places, but he guessed the engine hadfrightened most of them away.
The trip didn't take forty minutes, so we had scarcely time to learn thewhole art of engine-driving, but we were very glad to have had the ride.
We found the steam-boat waiting for us at Tocoi, which is such a littleplace that I don't believe either of us noticed it, as we hurriedaboard. The St. John's is a splendid river, as wide as a young lake; butwe did not have much time to see it, as it grew dark pretty soon, andthe supper-bell rang.
We reached Pilatka pretty early in the evening, and there we had to stayall night. Mr. Chipperton told me, confidentially, that he thought thiswhole arrangement was a scheme to make money out of travellers. The boatwe were in ought to have kept on and taken us up the Oclawaha; "but,"said he, "I suppose that wouldn't suit the hotel-keepers. I expect theydivide the profits with the boats."
By good luck, I thought, the Corny family and ourselves went todifferent hotels to spend the night. When I congratulated Rectus on thisfact, he only said:
"It don't matter for one night. We'll catch 'em all bad enoughto-morrow."
And he was right. When we went down to the wharf the next morning, tofind the Oclawaha boat, the first persons we saw were Mr. Chipperton,with his wife and daughter. They were standing, gazing at the steam-boatwhich was to take us on our trip.
"Isn't this a funny boat?" said Corny, as soon as she saw us. It _was_ avery funny boat. It was not much longer than an ordinary tug, and quitenarrow, but was built up as high as a two-story house, and the wheel wasin the stern. Rectus compared her to a river wheelbarrow.
Soon after we were on board she started off, and then we had a goodchance to see the St. John's. We had been down to look at the riverbefore, for we got up very early and walked about the town. It is apretty sort of a new place, with wide streets and some handsome houses.The people have orange-groves in their gardens, instead ofpotato-patches, as we have up north. Before we started, we hired arifle. We had been told that there was plenty of game on the river, andthat most gentlemen who took the trip carried guns. Rectus wanted to gettwo rifles, but I thought one was enough. We could take turns, and Iknew I'd feel safer if I had nothing to do but to keep my eye on Rectuswhile he had the gun.
There were not many passengers on board, and, indeed, there was not roomfor more than twenty-five or thirty. Most of them who could find placessat out on a little upper deck, in front of the main cabin, which was inthe top story. Mrs. Chipperton, however, staid in the saloon, ordining-room, and looked out of the windows. She was a quiet woman, andhad an air as if she had to act as shaft-horse for the team, and waspretty well used to holding back. And I reckon she had a good deal of itto do.
One party attracted our attention as soon as we went aboard. It was madeup of a lady and two gentlemen-hunters. The lady wasn't a hunter, butshe was dressed in a suitable costume to go about with fellows who hadon hunting-clothes. The men wore long yellow boots that came ever so farup their legs, and they had on all the belts and hunting-fixings thatthe law allows. The lady wore yellow gloves, to match the men's boots.As we were going up the St. John's, the two men strode about, in an easykind of a way, as if they wanted us to understand that this sort ofthing was nothing to them. They were used to it, and could wear thatstyle of boots every day if they wanted to. Rectus called them "theyellow-legged party," which wasn't a bad name.
After steaming about twenty-five miles up the St. John's River, we wentin close to the western shore, and then made a sharp turn into a narrowopening between the tall trees, and sailed right into the forest.