pine trees, and from thiseminence you can see, stretching far away below, all the undulatingcountry, the fertile valley of the Thames, and the river itself windingfor many and many a mile through it--a silver thread amidst the green.
From the top of this hill, too, if you take the trouble to climb it, youcan have a bird's-eye view of Rowan Tree Villa.
There it is, a pretty, many-gabled cottage, with a comfortable-lookingkitchen garden and orchard behind it, and a long, wide lawn in front.Now this lawn has one peculiarity. From the gate on each side up to theterrace in front of the house sweeps a broad carriage drive, bounded onboth its sides, first by a belt of green grass, carefully trimmed anddotted here and there with patches of flowers, and secondly by two rowsof rowan trees (the mountain ash), trained on wires, and forming theprettiest bit of hedge-work you could easily imagine.
If you were Scotch, and looked at that hedge even for a moment, thewords, and maybe the air as well, of the Baroness Nairne's beautifulsong would rise in your mind--
"Thy leaves were aye the first in spring, Thy flowers the summer's pride; There was nae sic a bonnie tree In a' the country side. And fair wert thou in summer time, Wi' a' thy clusters white, And rich and gay thy autumn dress Of berries red and bright. Oh, rowan tree!"
Well, it is June to-day--an afternoon in June; a day to make one feellife in every limb--a day when but to exist is a luxury. The roses arebending their heads in the sweet sunshine, for there is not a cloud inHeaven's blue. The butterflies are chasing each other among the flowerson the lawn, where we recline among the daisies, and the big velvetybees go droning and humming from clover blossom to clover blossom.
"Strange, is it not, my dear Ben," I said, "that on such a day as this,and in the midst of sunshine, I should bethink me of some night-scenesat sea and on land?
"I remember well my first experience of a storm by night in the NorthernOcean. We were going to the Arctic regions, cruising in a sturdy and,on the whole, not badly fitted, nor badly found ship.
"The anchor was weighed, the sails were set, and spread their wings tothe breeze; the crew had given their farewell cheer, and the rough oldpilot, having seen us safely out of Brassy Sound, had shaken the captainroughly by the hand, and wishing us `God-speed and safely home,' haddisappeared in his boat round a point.
"We were once more on the deep and dark blue ocean. Then the nightbegan to fall, and soon the only sound heard was the tramp, tramp ondeck, or the steady wash of the water, as our vessel ever and anondipped her bows or waist in the waves.
"The captain had given his last orders on deck, and came below to ourlittle saloon, the only occupants of which were myself and the ship'scat.
"Poor Pussy was endeavouring, rather ineffectually, to steady herself onthe sofa, and looked very much from home, while I myself was treblyengaged: namely, in placing such articles as were constantly tumblingdown into a safer and steadier position, in keeping the fire brightlyburning, and in reading a nautical book.
"There was a shade of uneasiness on the captain's face as he looked atthe barometer; and when he entered his state-room, and presently afteremerged dressed in oilskins and a sou'-wester hat, I felt as sure wewere going to have a dirty night as though he had rigged himself out insackcloth and ashes.
"He sat down, and, calling for some coffee, invited me to join in asocial cup.
"`Is there plenty of sea-room?' I inquired.
"`Very little sea-room,' he replied; `but she must take her chance.'
"Then we relapsed into silence.
"About an hour or two after this it became a difficult matter to sit ona chair at all, so much did the vessel pitch and roll.
"The captain had gone on deck, and as I had neither the need nor thedesire to follow him, I threw myself on the sofa, at the risk even ofoffending my good friend and companion, Pussy.
"The storm was now raging with terrible fury.
"Two watches were called to shorten sail, and the din and noise ofvoices could be distinctly heard rising high over the dashing of thewaves, and the whistling of the wind among the rigging and shrouds.Every timber was stretched, every plank seemed to creak and wail inagony; yet the good ship bore it well.
"Tired of the sofa I turned into bed, hoping to have a few hours ofsleep; but was very soon obliged to turn out again, having been awakenedfrom a pleasant dream of green fields, pine-clad hills, and a broad,quiet river, where ferns and water-lilies grew, by the crashing ofcrockery in the steward's pantry. It sounded as if bottles, dishes,plates, and cups were all in a heap in the middle of the floor breakingeach other to infinitesimal pieces. And that is precisely what theywere doing.
"Things in the saloon were fast verging into a state of chaos, andappeared to be making very merry in my absence. The fender andfire-irons presided over the musical department.
"The captain's big chair was dancing very emphatically, but ratherclumsily, with the coal-scuttle as a partner; the table was bowing tothe sofa, but the sofa begged to be excused from getting up. The onlyreasonable-looking article of furniture in the room was a chair, whichwas merely staggering around with my coat on, while the cat had gone tosleep in my sou'-wester; and while endeavouring to restore quiet andorder, I was thrown below the table like a pair of old boots, where, forthe want of ability to do anything better, I was fain to remain.
"`Clear away the wreck!' I could now hear the captain's voice bawling,for our fore-mast had gone by the board.
"_His_ voice was not the only one I heard. On passing the man at thewheel, I heard the captain ask, `What! are you getting afraid, man?'And the brave British voice that so firmly replied `Not at all, sir!'explained better than printed volumes could have done the secret of allour naval greatness; for to hearts like his, and hands like his, in manya dark and stormy night, Britannia entrusts her honour, and bravely isit kept and guarded.
"Musing on this fact, I fell soundly to sleep beneath the table, andwhen I awoke the storm had ceased.
"There are few situations in which a healthy man can be placed that aremore full of discomfort than that of being at sea in a small ship duringa storm. I do not refer to a mere `capful of wind;' I mean a great-gungale. There is, literally speaking, no rest for the sole of the foot.Tossed about in all directions, in vain do you seek to exchange yourchair for the sofa. Probably you are sent rolling off on to the deck,and thankful you ought to be if the cushions are the only things thatfollow you. Flesh-sore and weary, perhaps you seek for solace in a cupof tea: thankful you may be again if the steward succeeds in pouring itinto your cup, instead of spilling it down your neck. Then, if you sofar forget the rules of the sea as to place it for a moment on the tablewithout a hand to guard it, you are instantly treated to a gratuitousshower-bath.
"Still the ocean has its pleasures and its charms as well as the land.My mind, even now, carries me back and away to a scene very differentfrom that which I have just been describing.
"I am sitting in my little cabin. It is a summer's evening, and all ispeace within and around my barque. Yonder is my bed, and the littleport close by my snow-white pillow is open, and through it steals thesoft, cool breeze of evening, and wantonly lifts and flutters the littleblue silken hangers. Not far off I can catch glimpses of the woodedhills and flowery valleys of a sunny land. And night after night thelight wind that blows from it is laden with the sweet breath of itsflowers; and between there lies the ocean, asleep and quiet and still,and beautiful with the tints of reflected clouds.
"Often in the cool night that succeeds a day of heat have I lain awakefor hours, fanned by the breath of the sea, gazing on the watery worldbeneath and beyond me, and the silvery moon and tiny stars, that makeone think of home, till sleep stole gently down on a moonbeam, andwafted me off to dreamland.
"But in witnessing even the war of the elements at sea, a sailor oftenfinds a strange, wild pleasure. Enveloped in the thundercloud you mountwith every wave to meet the lightning's flash, or descend, like anarrow, into the gulf
below--down, down, down, till the sun, lurid andred, is hidden at last from view by the wall of black waters around you.
"Or fancy the picture, which no artist could depict, of a ship far awayin ocean's midst by night in a thunderstorm. Dimly through the murkynight behold that tumbling sea, lighted only by its own foam and theoccasional flash from the storm-cloud. See that dark spot on the sea;it is a ship, and living souls are there--human beings, each with hisown world of cares and loves and thoughts that are even now far away,all in that little spot. Whish! now by the pale lightning's flash youcan see it all. The black ship, with her bare poles, her slippery,shining deck and wet cordage, hanging by the bows to the crest of thatgreat inky wave. What a little thing she looks, and what a mighty oceanall around her; and see how pale appear the faces of the crew that`cling