CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE REGATTA--THE DUEL.
By agreement we rested through the middle of the day, and, in place ofour usual hearty dinner, took an early lunch. It was irksome, though,to be quiet when so excited, and when, too, a multitude of pastimes weresuggested to our senses by the loveliness of that June day.
Mr Clare and Captain Mugford had gone to fish in the Race off theextreme point.
When half-past one o'clock came, Harry, who seemed the most impatient,proposed that we should go down to Bath Bay then, and wait there untilthree, the hour of the race. That we agreed to, but left directionswith Clump to hurry our tutors up as soon as they returned, and havethem ready for the race.
We had time to launch our boat carefully, and take a nice swim, beforewe descried our tutors, followed by Clump with a long musket, descendingthe knoll toward us. So we hastened our dressing, and, when theyreached the beach, were ready to receive them in our extemporisedcostume of blue shirts and white trousers. Captain Mugford was alreadyin a perspiration from his walk, and, what we boys also noticed withdelight, seemed somewhat blown. However, he was jolly, and, flourishingthe ever active handkerchief, proposed to Mr Clare that they should rowround Leander's Rock, and _let the boys follow them_! "But at arespectful distance, remember, boys!" We laughed scornfully at hischaff. Harry touched his cap like a middy, and promised for our boatthat it should keep at a _very_ "respectful distance."
It took but a short time to complete preparations. Our tutors threw offhats, coats, and vests, and tied handkerchiefs about their heads. Thenthey lifted their boat into the water, and stood smiling at theexcitement we could not help betraying. Clump was on his way toYoungster's Wharf, where, at the proper moment, he was to give thesignal for starting by firing the musket. A flag waved from Leander'sRock; another was flying over our heads. The clear water of the baysoused in impatient little ripples against the boats we stood ready toenter, as if to say, "Well, why don't you come on?" and then, purling afew feet farther, skipped over the spar which was to be our goal. Clumphad reached Youngster's Wharf. Seeing that, we entered our boats,seated ourselves carefully, balancing the oars ready to spring, andwaited the signal. I alone could see Clump; the oarsmen had their backsto him. The long gun was brought up to his shoulder, and his eyes fixedon us. I saw his finger twitch, and as the hammer fell, my body gaveway to help the start. The oarsmen, with their eyes on mine, acted insympathy, and every oar touched the water; but the old flintlock hadonly snapped. How our adversaries laughed! The old man sprang about onthe rock like a wounded baboon. He was indignant at the failure. Againwe were in order. Again I saw the musket brought up. Bang! We wereoff, and were opposite Youngster's Wharf before the smoke had clearedfrom above Clump's head. The boats were side by side then.Notwithstanding the eagerness with which I swayed forward with everypull of the oars, and the frenzy that filled me, as in a moment more Isaw our tutors' boat drawing slightly ahead, I had to laugh at theantics of Clump, who was rushing from side to side of his floatingstaging, dancing up and down like a rheumatic lunatic, tossing his armswildly about his uncovered head, his face a kaleidoscope of grimaces,while he shouted to each one of us by name, in encouragement, inentreaty, in fear: "Oh, Massa Drake! pull, pull!" "Massa Walter! MassaWalter! dus you let 'em beat!" "Day'se gwine ahead! Oh dear! oh dear!oh dear!"
His voice was lost in another moment. We were nearly half across thebay, and our tutors' boat a full length ahead. I saw that my crew weretoo excited to do their best, so I called to them: "Boys, steady now!Keep cool, cool. Only think of what your arms are doing."
"There, that's better already! We're gaining! Hurrah! Stick to it!"
"Come, boys," called Mr Clare. "Come, we can't wait for you longer!"
I believe that lent five pounds of extra strength to every arm in myboat.
We were nearing Leander's Rock. Ay! and we were steadily gaining on ourtutors.
They, too, saw that, but could do no better. Having a steersman, gaveour boat an advantage of rounding the Rock closely.
We gained distance. In five minutes we were thirty or forty feet ahead.
But then, terrible to see, our adversaries made a spurt, and were comingup again, hand over hand.
They gained, _gained_, gained, until their stern was opposite Harry'soar-blade. I was almost wild with excitement. I called upon the boys,with every entreaty I could think of, to pull harder; urging on Alfred,who was evidently the weakest oar, and whose strength seemed waning.
But our tutors could not pull harder. They had done their best. Couldwe but keep our speed.
So we went, without widening or lessening the distance between us, for ahundred yards. But was it possible for us to hold out? How I prayed wemight! We neared Clump again. The comic sight cheered me. Truly, ifhopping about and entreaties could help us, what aid must that oldnigger give us. I almost expected to see him soar off to us, he lookedso like a crow taking flight.
"Fellows! keep a morsel of extra strength to use when we pass Clump,then just let us put forth our utmost breath and strength for thoseforty yards. But don't let our tutes gain. Look! look!"
But they were coming up--only by inches, to be sure, but coming.
We rushed past Youngster's Wharf. Clump stretched out his body as if topull us on.
Hurrah! hurrah! Their bow is a foot beyond our stern.
"Hi! hi! hi! Yah! yah! Hurrah! hurrah! My young--"
Splash!!!
Clump had pitched in sure enough, head first. But there was no stop toour engines. Our tutors were four feet behind; but they were workingwith a last hope and mad effort.
"One more, boys!"
Cr-u-a-nk! we touched the spar, slid over its roundness as it sunkbeneath our keel, and were on the soft beach--Victors!
We were crazy with joy, and completely used up. The boys jumped fromthe boat and threw themselves, laughing hysterically, on the sand.
Our tutors only said, in tones of mingled chagrin and exhaustion, "Boys,we are beaten, well and fairly;" and they pushed off again to pick upClump.
I do not know any successes or honours of after-life sweeter or moresatisfying than that boat victory.
Until bedtime, we remained just tired and happy enough to sit quietlyand talk over the events of the afternoon.
In resuming study for the few days before Saturday, we had inanticipation for that time a fishing party on the rocks, for bass, whichwere beginning to bite sharply, and for which our bait was lobster andthe crabs that were found under the small rocks at low tide.
In talking over the project together, Drake said he would not go thistime, but would wait to see our luck. Alfred Higginson expressedneither assent nor dissent with the general arrangement, and of coursewe supposed he was to be of our party, until Saturday came and we wereready to start, poles, bait and basket in hand, when he was not to befound. We wondered at his disappearance, but had no time to hunt himup. Drake was there to see us off. The Captain and Mr Clare, who weregoing with us, told Drake they thought that boat-race had proved toomuch for him. He laughed, but was not as ready at an answer as usual.Indeed, he appeared rather low-spirited. However, we started on ourexcursion without a suspicion of the affair which prevented both fellowsfrom joining it. It afterwards appeared that Drake had addressed thefollowing note to Alfred Higginson on the day before the boat-race:--
"Cape ---, June 17, 1816.
"Alfred Higginson,
"Our quarrels have gone nearly far enough, disturbing the peace of our entire company, and increasing the irritation between us. Let us conclude the dissension in a thorough and honourable way that may satisfy both and prove a final contest. After that I will agree to strive not to give offence to you, and also to bear silently whatever conceit and insults may escape you. Perhaps we may become friends. But we cannot remain as we are. The blow you struck the other day _must_ be answered for. _I ask satisfaction_, and the incompleteness and vulgarity of a pugil
istic encounter will not suit me. I propose, therefore, as we cannot resort to the regular duel of pistols, (for reasons so good and evident that I need not name them), that after the example of the ancients, whose history we are now daily reading, we have our combat. Arms of their fashion our ingenuity can supply, not of the same materials, I know, but of wood, which should prove effective enough for our purposes. I propose Saturday as the time, when those who might otherwise disturb our meeting are absent: and I propose the hold of the wreck as a suitable spot. Your sense of honour will, of course, keep this affair secret, and I ask a speedy reply.
"Drake Tregellin."
Only a warm, fierce, reckless-natured boy of fourteen could have hitupon such an absurdly quixotic way of deciding a quarrel. Indiancombats between Red Indians in the Far West, the deeds of Sir Kenneth,Saladin, and Coeur de Lion in his favourite "Talisman," and the entirecharacter of Drake's reading, had joined with and gathered romance fromhis late study of Virgil to misdirect an innate chivalry.
Alfred Higginson's reply was also characteristic:--
"Drake Tregellin,
"I have received your _cartel_. In my humble opinion nothing could be more stupid and silly than the resort you propose. I suppose you think your proposition very _grand_ and _chivalric_. It endangers the continuance of our stay on the cape; it rebels against the rule we are under here; and it would make our parents unhappy. Its spirit of selfishness and indifference to everything but your own impulse is the same which causes and continues our quarrelling. But I shall be a fool with you this time. I have not the courage to balk your desire. I agree to the contest, if you agree to keep the peace after that. I suppose javelins and shields of wood are to be our weapons. What nonsense! But I shall be at hand, Saturday, at the brig, when the others have gone fishing.
"Alfred Higginson."
About an hour after we had got settled on Bass Rocks, and just as wecommenced catching fish, and I had a mighty fellow slashing my lineabout and trying to snap the pole, we heard the voice of some onecalling to us in distress, and, turning, saw Juno hurrying towards us asfast as her old limbs and breathless state would allow. She waschattering all the while, but it was impossible for us to understand thecause of her mission until she had come up to us and had taken amoment's rest. Then, the tears springing from her eyes and terror inher voice, she exclaimed: "De yun' gem'men--Massa Drake, Massa Alf'fed,dey is fiteten and tarr'en one udder to pieces. Dey is down dare in deole ship and fire'en sticks and poke-en guns; an' oh Lord, I fear dey isall dead now!" Her excitement could no longer be contained, but brokeforth in cries and ejaculations: "Oh! oh! oh! marssaful Hebbens! Oh deLord, please top de yun' gem'men! Massa Clare, Massa Capting, ar'n'tyous gwine? Ar'n't yous gwine afore dey is done dead? Dat dis olewoman mus' see such tings!"
We also gleaned from her, that, hearing a noise at the wreck, as she waspassing near by, she had scrambled on board the vessel and there seenthe two boys engaged in a severe fight; that she had hurried off forClump, but could not find him; and that then she had run to where sheknew we were; but we had to hasten her broken narrative to get at thewhole matter, and then we all started for the wreck as fast as we couldrun, fearful that a tragedy was to meet our sight--that we might be toolate to prevent it.
What a sight met our eyes as we hurried down the stairs to the brig'sschoolroom!
Chairs, desks, and tables had been pushed back against the sides to makeroom for the duel, and there, in the so-formed arena, the atmosphere ofwhich was thick with disturbed dust, lay in common confusion a splitshield, two swords, a padded glove, a splintered lance, and a torn cap.The weapons--the shield in particular--reflected skill upon Clump orwhatever carpenter had fashioned them. In some charge of one of thecombatants, the round table, although intended to be in a place ofsafety, had been overturned, adding a globe, a streaming inkstand, andsundry books to the medley on the floor.
But our astonishment culminated when we saw Drake leaning back in MrClare's big chair in the farther end of the hold, his head bleeding, asleeve torn off, and an expression of comically blended fatigue anddignified indifference in his face, while near the opposite side of theschoolroom, and on one side of the stairway we had descended, was AlfredHigginson lying on the floor, his head supported on an arm, hiscountenance the picture of pain and mortification.
Evidently the battle was over. The parties spoke not a word; and thefirst exclamation that came from us was Harry's: "Hillo! A real duel,and no one killed."
Our good Captain, his face full of tenderness and anxiety, hurried toAlf and lifted him up, but as he was so much hurt as to be only able tohobble a few steps, Captain Mugford lifted him in his arms and carriedhim on deck.
"What is all this, my poor fellow?" asked the Captain, as he got him ona bench there.
"Rather a long story, Captain, but no one to blame but Drake and me. Heain't much hurt, is he?"
"That is what I want to ask you, Alf. Where is your pain?"
"There, sir, in my side. It is only stiff and bruised, but don't touchit hard, please. There! where your hand is. And I believe my hand issomewhat cut."
As it proved on examination by the doctor from the village, whom Ibrought over an hour afterwards, one of Alf's ribs was broken and thepalm of his left hand badly gashed.
Whilst the Captain and Harry Higginson had attended to Alfred, Mr Clareand Walter took care of Drake. He was very laconic in his replies totheir questions, and made light of the injury; but he was faint from thewound in the head, and his sleeveless arm was so stiff as to be uselessto him then.
Juno, who had found Clump, joined us before we reached the house withour wounded comrades; but at the sight of Drake's bleeding head andAlfred carried in the Captain's arms, Juno's ejaculations recommenced,and Clump followed, only wringing his hands in mute despair.
Of the particulars of the fight we never knew further than I haverelated. Both of the principals in the affair hated to have it alludedto, and we spared their feelings.
When we had got them comfortably settled in their rooms, Mr Clarecalled the remainder of us aside and enjoined upon us that we should notquestion Drake and Alfred, nor mention the matter in their presence; andthat in the meantime he would decide with Captain Mugford what steps totake when the boys had recovered.
In another week Drake was as well as ever, but hardly as noisy andreckless as of old. Alfred remained an invalid for some time longer.
When both were perfectly recovered, Mr Clare called us all together inthe brig's schoolroom one afternoon, and then addressed us, particularlythe two combatants, in a manner that I can never forget--it was sosensible, so manly, so solemn. He pointed out the faults of each, whichhad fed the long quarrel and finally serious conclusion. He painted thewickedness of that duel, (for it could be called nothing else), and allsuch affairs, which in former times were ignorantly considered necessaryand honourable. He told us in what he thought true manliness, courage,and _chivalry_ consisted. Then, in a simple, touching way, he suggestedhigher thoughts--our duty to our Father in heaven as brothers of onecommon family, and more than all of the example which our blessed Lordand Master set us while He was on earth--to forgive injuries--tooverlook insults; and he spoke of charity as forbearance, and conquestas governing ourselves; and then begged us to join him in earnestentreaty to the Holy Spirit for the strength to practise that charityand make those conquests, to the Source whence such virtues came, and tothe Ear which was never deaf to supplication. How simple and noble wasthat whole address! And I cannot forbear testimony to the fruitfulnessof a Christian practice such as that of our then tutor, dear Mr Clare.Even thoughtless boys could not sneer at the constant manly practice ofhis life. We had to see that it gave the loftiest aims even to thesmallest acts of his everyday life--that where he spoke one word heacted fifty in that service which ennobles the commonest deed. So thatreligion, which youth often regards as something whining andhypocritical, something only for the old and sick, we
boys _began_ tolook up to as something which, if we could only _partly_ understand,was, at the least, truly beautiful and noble.
The lesson and bearing of Mr Clare on that occasion was enforced by thefact that as he concluded, Captain Mugford, rubbing the back of a roughhand on his cheek for some reason, got up and crossed the room to MrClare, whose hand he took in both his, and said--
"Mr Clare, I am but a rough, wicked old sailor, but the words you havespoken to these boys have touched an older boy than they, and I thankyou--I thank you!"
The parents of both Drake and Alfred were duly informed, by both MrClare and the boys themselves, of the affair.
From that time Drake and Alfred were changed boys. The old dominantfaults I have told of had now to _fight_ for sway and were generallymastered, whilst the conduct of one to the other grew generous andconsiderate, and the two boys became and ever afterward remained closefriends.
Captain Mugford: Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors Page 8