Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

She walks the waters like a thing sailor loves; and, save the cutting of of life, the sharp vessel through the water,

And seems to dare the elements to not a sound was abroad on the lonely strife.

Who would not brave the battle-fire -the wreck

To move the monarch of her peopled deck?"

"Well, Mr. Lovett, since you have interested a champion in your favour, against whom I am unable to contend, I shall withdraw from the lists and consider myself vanquished. Why, you gipsy you, here, give your old father a kiss, to compromise for leading him into a scrape when he anticipated victory. But come, Mr. Lovett, we need a little refreshment, andhaving taken the ‘quantum sufficit,' Genevieve (Call her Lucile, Captain Hollins,' said Lovett. Ah, ha, old times, eh? well, Lucile, then, if you please,) shall amuse us with her harp."

The wind had hauled round to the southward, and the evening promised to be remarkably fine. The soft south

wind came loaded with the freshness of the ocean. The little vessel was careering along swiftly and noiselessly, save now and then a slight plunge as she slipped over a roller, the swashing of the water against the bow, the rubbing of the rudder as the helmsman altered its direction, the whispering of the pregnant canvas, and the low murmuring hum of the breeze as it sported through the taut rigging. The scud was still flying overhead, but the feeble stars were one by one peeping out through the flimsy concealment; and the pale sickly moon gradually resuming her sway as mistress of the night, occasionally shone through the ragged interstices with a golden splendour, tipping the water with a bright, broad silvery streak. The dark shadows of the fitful clouds would ever and anon flit across the waters, giving them the blackest appearance, and in a moment they would again be heaving and playing in a flood of light. Once more on deck, the harp was brought and placed by Genevieve. The old man and Lovett stood on either side. Groups of swarthy mariners were collected as far aft as reverence would permit them to come, to hear their favourite wake the music which the

deep. What a contrast! The lovely sylph-like form of the beautiful creature seated by the harp, one arm thrown carelessly over the instrument, as if impatient to sweep its chords; her careless ringlets swinging to the gentle air, and her countenance beaming in the silvery light, regarding with looks of fondness the bronzed and daring features of her hardy pirate sire. Beyond, inured alike to scenes of blood and tempest-dangers, and

relying upon their speedy vessel to carry them beyond the reach of their powerful neighbour, stood the hard and weather-beaten crew, utterly regardless of capricious chance.

"And what shall I sing?" said the beautiful girl.

"Sing? oh, you shall sing to-night for Mr. Lovett."

She struck the chords, and a soft melody blended with the following

words:

66

"Though I roam on the ocean,
My heart is the same,
For deep memory's motion,
But adds to the flame.
The heart that once beat
With a fond throb for thee
On land, must repeat

It, wherever it be.
The spell is not broken

That bound me to thee;
Receive this fond token

Of love on the sea ;"

and she playfully took a ring from her own delicate finger and placed it on Lovett's. Decorum forbid other than a verbal declaration of gratitude, and the old man relieved the pause, by a stern and startling order, of "Luff! keep her at it."

The spell was broken, the charm was gone. All had awaited in silent expectation to catch the first breathings of another melody, but the chords were mute, and each reluctantly betook himself to his proper station. The harp was removed, and the hour for retiring had arrived. The old man still remained on deck to con the weather; and having given a few low and indistinct orders, but which seemingly were understood, he too disap

peared, apparently for the night. But his quick eye had detected an indication of change in the weather, and long after all were buried in the calmness of sleep, his foot was pacing the deck with a hasty and apparently anxious motion. The breeze was gradually dying away, and the rover readily perceived that it was about to shift round to the northward. If it did so, he was aware that his vessel under a schooner's rig could not hold way with the frigate before the wind. His only plan was to alter his course, stand on an hour or two, douse everything and let the frigate run by him. Every sail was loosed that would draw, every line was hauled taut, and the old man himself took the helm, anxiously watching the slow progress of the schooner as the breeze slackened. The canvas began to lift; and flap, flap, one after another the sails hung in slothful inactivity. Orders were given in a low murmuring voice, and silently the men stole aloft to execute them. Everything was brailed and hauled up snug against the masts and yards. The head sails hauled down and yards squared.

"There," said the old man, as he cast an anxious look towards the whereabouts of the frigate; "I could have wished the breeze to have held on another hour, but that fellow must have a sharp look-out to catch sight of the Speedy Keel's tapering sticks." "There are bright look-outs kept on board our vessels sometimes, Captain Hollins," said a voice at his elbow, "and the capture of the Speedy Keel is a matter of moment."

"What! you on deck, Mr. Lovett? Why I thought you were snugly turned in, and dreaming of the time when would rob an old man of his last prop, and leave him solitary and alone, like a mast without a stay.'

you

[ocr errors]

"No, sir, I too, like yourself, perceived the likelihood of a change, having been on this coast before; and, anxious as to the result, I could not remain below."

"Well, well, Mr. Lovett, when you get as many years over your head as I have, you will not be over eager to throw away an inviting hour of rest. But what think you of the frigate; will she bring the breeze up with her?"

"She undoubtedly will, and if she runs by you she is not the vessel I judge her to be. Lieutenant Splicetack, the first lieutenant on board the frigate, is a man not to be out-manoeuvred by anything that floats the sea; and if I am not mistaken in my inference, you will find the frigate has also changed her course during the night."

"Well, Mr. Lovett, it is but an hour to daylight, and we must abide the chance."

The rover spoke with a tone of indifference, but his countenance betrayed an air of anxiety foreign to his speech.

"Why all on deck?" said a soft silvery voice.

They turned, and Genevieve stood by them.

"And what has disturbed your rest, my daughter, at this early hour?"

"I could not sleep, father; I have had horrible dreams, and thought in the calmness of the air to dispel the unwelcome visions."

66

"This," said the old man, turning to Lovett, appears like an omen. I am not inclined to superstition, but

there, there comes a breeze from the northward, too. All hands loose sail," and in a moment the beautiful vessel was again bending to the influence of a gentle breeze. The old man tapped Lovett on the shoulder, and directing his attention, said, "Look, expected it; but she cannot catch us, the breeze has come too soon."

Lovett looked, and there, almost within shot, and just perceptible through the haze of the breaking light, was the dim outline of a tall and heavy frigate.

"The Thunderer!" exclaimed Lo

vett.

"Sail ho!" sung out the man at the cathead..

"You see, Mr. Lovett," said the old man, smiling. "I allow none of my men to be before me. Ease away a little of that sheet. Steady, so! steer small, and mind your helm."

It was now to be a trial of speed between the two vessels, with the wind abaft the beam, and the larger vessel undoubtedly had the advantage. It was now broad daylight, and the frigate could be distinctly seen.

The

crew were evidently on the alert, as the black specks on the yards plainly indicated. One after another the lighter sails were rigged out and set. The rover stood at the helm, and his lip quivered and eye sparkled as his own boasted vessel was swiftly ranging along by the cruiser. "There," said he, as a flash leaped from her side and a solitary boom came thundering across the water, "there is Johnny's notice to heave to, but it will be a good piece that will throw its mouthful of iron this far, and I know of but one that can do it, and that is Genny's pistol there," (pointing to his own Long Tom," amidships.)

"What do you think of the omen, Charles?" said Genevieve to her lover, as they were sitting together on the tafferel, looking at the frigate.

66

gether to a happier world. The mangled corpses were consigned to one grave. The pirate looked on with a calm and stern look. A splash, a rippling gurgle, and the schooner sped on her course.

The last tie was broken that bound the rover to his ocean life. The Englishman had done him the last injury. His cup was full. One groan, one solitary scorching tear. He dashed it from his eye, and seized the trumpet. The voice was calm, but the noise of the billow was lulled beneath its thundering tone. "Hard down your helm Haul aft the sheets! Brace sharp up! Beat to quarters! Man the guns! Steady, so!" and the schooner was running for the frigate. The old man seized a match, then turning to his son he said: "Yard arm and yard arm, then a broadside ;"' and he went below.

The vessels were now together. The rover's son stood aft, and every man

Why, dearest, it is a certain sign that your glorious Speedy Keel shall outstrip the frigate, and we shall run into New York, and then"And then, what?" said the blush- at his gun. The congregated huning girl.

[merged small][ocr errors]

"Oh, no, no, no, we will keep the schooner for the happy, happy hours we have seen in her."

"Just as you please then, dearest," and he folded her beauteous form in his arms, and pressed her glowing cheek.

"Ha, ha!" chuckled the old man, as a second wreath of flame burst from the frigate, "better keep 'em, better keep 'em, it's only a waste of good iron."

A whirr, a crash, a solitary exclamation from the helmsman, and the rover turned to see where the shot had entered. He groaned “Oh, heavens!" and fell on the deck. Water restored him, and he awoke once more to a scene of misery and death. The shot had struck the tafferel, and the beings who but a moment before were painting the gay scenes of anticipation in the buoyancy of hope, were no more. The lovers had died together; and the souls that mingled in the harmony of sympathy on earth, had winged their flight to

dreds of the frigate were on deck. As the pirate ranged along beside the frigate, a voice of thunder bellowed, "Fire!" A single crash, and many of the frigate's hundreds had gone to their last account. A moment's pause ensued; another heavy, thundering, booming crash, like the meeting of heaven and earth, the fragments strewed the sea, a thick smoke curled and eddied in fantastic wreaths to shroud the dead, and the frigate was alone on the ocean. The young, the brave, the beautiful, the fair, had been hurled by one fell besom of destruction into eternity; and the beautiful fabric that roamed the scourge of the ocean, WAS NEVER CAPTURED.

FEMALE INTREPIDITY.

A TALE OF LAPLAND.

THEY who have traversed the dreary wastes of Lapland, full well remember the huts of Koutokeino. The busy merchant or passing stranger who has left the gloomy thicket of Skovbredden, views with rejoicing the lonely cots and log-built parsonage which yield him his first shelter from the rushing

of the snow-drift. Yet it is a lonely spot, and, while the blast of the hurricane sleeps, a solemn dulness reigns. The boundless, trackless solitudes which reach from Alp to Alp and vale to vale, till the dwarf birch fails and the cloud-berry gives its fruit no longer, stretch around the village. The frozen river, the deeply-bedded trees, the icy hills, and snow-embosomed plains, present the silent land

scape.

On a bleak dark day in January, when the sky threatened heavily, and the wind began to prophesy in sullen tones, a party of travellers set out from Koutokeino on their route to Alten. But, though the journey promised cold and suffering, they were bound on a joyous errand, and many were the rein-deer which sped forward on that morning to the scene of a Lapland wedding. And the herd went forth, sportive and healthful, amidst the shouting of the drivers; their bells rang merrily, and their clinking hoofs sent out the well-known sound which is heard from afar. There were also, besides the peasantry, the sheriff, two merchants of Alten, and an English wanderer, who had come up from the very borders of the Euxine, and had trod with safety the wilds of Siberia. The sledge of the Englishman was open, after the custom of the native Laplander, and he had in vain been urged to travel in the closer sledge which the merchants commonly make use of. His deer, too, was fresh and vigorous, and though he had securely skimmed along the Russian snows, the weather had been favourable, and the country as yet smooth and free from danger. But he who dares the peril of a northern winter, and treads within the arctic circle, must stand prepared for change. The moon shone brightly on the glittering waste, and gleamed cheerfully on the spangled mountains when the group set forth, but, nimbly as they started, they had not reached the passes of the Solivara heights before the cold advanced, and the snow deepened, and the mist hovered in the distance. The light now declined, the precipices were at hand, the fog was hastening onwards, and the deer were at their fullest speed. The party, however, had gained the

summit of the hills before this march of night, but they had scarcely gazed upon the deeps below, when the heavens became darkened, and the eastern stars, to which their anxious eyes had often turned, were seen no longer. The dense cloud had shadowed all, but the speed of the journey was unrelaxed. The guide tarried not. The Laplanders flanked the sides of their deer. It was a race in the night along the frozen Solivara, the highest of the Finmark Alps. The bellowing of the tempest increased the terrors of the time, for, in these distant lands, the fatal snow-drift succeeds often to the shrouding mist. There was a general halt. The descent of the mountain presented a formidable danger. The guide, though a well-travelled native, had forgotten the usual pass. But it was determined to go forward, and the least headlong path along the mighty chain was eagerly sought for. The sledges were again put in motion, and the deer approached the gaping declivity. There was no delay. Each driver fastened the rein tightly round his arm, and trusted to his beast. The sledges flew like the lightning. It was still dark, and neither moon, nor star, nor northern flash appeared to mark the track. Deer, carriage, traveller and guide, were hurried on in equal confusion. The master of the sledge lost his power; the animal, tangled in the trace, his footing; but while man and beast were struggling in the snow, the sledge dashed down the height, dragging along its inmate, and rolling like a ball. Every one was in dread of his neighbour. The sheriff's sledge dashed against that of his nearest countryman, and there might now be seen driver upon driver, deer by the side of deer, and sledge upon sledge, in the general overturn. Loud shouts sounded on all sides, and "guide!" " guide!" was echoed by the routed assembly. But the guide was himself in jeopardy, and some moments went by before the guide could detach himself from his own sledge in order to give the needful aid. Happy were the sheriff and his fellows, when safe from storm and frost, they pushed their jaded cattle into Alten. The peasant's heart was joyous as he beheld once more the huts of his coun

try, and looked forward to the brandy bumpers of the wedding. The sheriff blessed himself as he looked upon his dwelling, circled by stately firs, and the merchant was cheered by the sight of the well-known firth where his ships and riches lay. It was indeed Alten, with its grassy waters, its rocks towering above the flood, its tall birches, and tufts of pine with naked summits in the distance, high surmounting all. The nuptial rites had begun before the arrival of the party from Koutokeino. The chapel, two Finmark miles from Alten, had been early crowded with Laplanders, and the holy ordinances of marriage and the sacrament were administered with the customary solemnities. Each Lap was arrayed in his best attire, and paid an attention to the Norsk service-of which he understood not one wordwhich would have done honour to an English congregation. Conspicuous amongst the assembly were the bride and her spouse. The first with her blue frock, gaily trimmed with divers colours, her ribbons streaming from her head, and hair banded by a golden fillet-the bridegroom, with his blue frock, also set off with red and white embroidery. The day passed on joyfully; the shops of the merchants were crowded with natives, who quaffed brandy till their money would hold out no longer; and the very stripling girls clubbed together to gain their jovial glass. But the grand festivity was reserved for the evening. The supper, to which the people of the neighbourhood were invited, was given in a large outhouse lent for the purpose by the traders of the place. The deep vessels filled with savoury venison, such as a man's heart delighteth in, were already emptied by the frequent fingers of the guests, and the brandy was in like manner drawing nearly to a close, when the sheriff arrived with his mountain party. He had set off in a boat with haste from Alten, and having called at the house of the feast giver, lost no time in reaching the scene of rejoicing. A fresh present of brandy renewed the mirth, and the worthy sheriff, while he smiled on the happy group before him, could not help reflecting that a plenteous bowl of punch was awaiting

his own bidding at the habitation of the general host. But suddenly, amid the greetings and welcomes of the newly-come Laplanders, a buzz was heard through the room, and the countenance of the sheriff fell. Where was the English stranger? He had been rather behind, and the magistrate had pressed briskly forward. He was in the open sledge and by chance might have got out, in which case, if left by his deer, his situation would be critical. Where was the guide? He was once more loudly called for, and he admitted that, at the last halt, he had not noticed the Englishman. "The deer," said he,

[ocr errors]

was mettlesome, but the foreigner was wilful, after the manner of his countrymen." "He may still come," said the sheriff, but the speaker's look but ill agreed with the words which tottered on his lips.

The party were in confusion, for the Laps respect the rites of hospitality, and they felt that their guide had deserted the stranger in the hour of danger. But no one moved from his place, and the missing traveller came not. The sheriff forgot his flowing bowl, and the brandy lingered on the table.

Among the numerous guests who had helped to celebrate the wedding, and partake the cheer, was a Lapland girl of Koutokeino. Her countenance beamed intelligence which nature had denied to her kinsfolk, and she had been listening to the story which went round, with an eagerness which promised action rather than idle pity. "And shall we leave the stranger to perish in the snow?" said the maiden, glancing at her neighbours with indignant heroism. "Shame, Laps of the mountain!-Utterson!" continued she, calling to a youth who sat near her. The appeal was not in vain. A lad of twenty, one of those bold fishers who dare the sudden tempests of the polar main, started up, wrapped his mantle round him, and obeyed the voice which summoned him. "Utterson!" said the girl once more, 66 we must go back instantly and seek this poor stranger!"' The youth made no reply, but, drawing his deer-skin still closer, hastened to the door. The sheriff followed with a numerous con

« ПредишнаНапред »