Little Bobtail

by Oliver Optic

  Probably just then Ezekiel Taylor reproached himself for his idle and dissolute life, and realized that, if he had been industrious, and had saved his money, he might have owned the place with no encumbrance at the present time. It was about sunset, and Mrs. Taylor and her son seated themselves on the front doorstep to talk over the impending calamity.

  "What vessel is that?" asked Mrs. Taylor, as a cloud of white canvas emerged from behind Negro Island.

  "It's a yacht!" exclaimed Bobtail. "There's a P in her burgee. It's the Penobscot, of Belfast. She belongs to Colonel Montague. I saw her go down the other day. She's the finest yacht in these waters. I must go and see her."

  Little Bobtail suddenly forgot all about the mortgage and the prospective loss of the cottage as he gazed upon the white sails and the beautiful hull of the Penobscot. She was a magnificent yacht, of about a hundred tons. She had created a decided sensation in the bay, and our young skipper had heard glowing accounts of her, which made him anxious to see her with his own eyes. Her crew were hauling down her gaff-topsails and her jib-topsail, and it was evident that she intended to anchor in the harbor. Her foresail was lowered, and then her jib. As she lost her headway, the anchor went overboard near where the Skylark lay. Bobtail began to move off.

  "I should like to see her, too, Robert. Can't you take me out to her?" said Mrs. Taylor.

  "Certainly, mother; come along," replied Little Bobtail; "but perhaps they won't let us go on board of her, for I see some ladies on her deck."

  At the landing-steps they took a boat, and Bobtail pulled off to the yacht.

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE PENOBSCOT.

  Little Bobtail could not help looking behind him occasionally, as he pulled the boat, to observe the beautiful proportions, and the comely, tapering spars of the yacht. Beside the Penobscot, even the Skylark was nowhere.

  "Well that's the finest yacht I ever saw!" said he, lying upon his oars, when he was near enough to take in the whole idea of the vessel. "She's big enough to go around the world in, too."

  "She's as nice as anything need be," replied Mrs. Taylor, with an indifference which was very provoking to the young skipper.

  She was looking at the people on the quarter-deck of the Penobscot, rather than at the symmetrical hull and the graceful spars. There were two ladies and two gentlemen. The old gentleman, seated near the wheel, with long silver locks, and of grave and dignified mien, was the Hon. Mr. Montague. His son, Colonel Montague, who had commanded a Maine regiment during a portion of the war of the rebellion, was planking the deck, dressed in the uniform of the New York Yacht Club. He was quite as dignified as his father, though he was not forty yet. His wife was the elegant lady who sat on a camp-stool gazing at the outline of the ragged mountain which rises near the village. The young lady of twelve or thirteen was Miss Grace Montague, the daughter of the colonel. She was quite tall for her age, and looked very much like her mother. Mrs. Taylor was gazing earnestly at these people.

  Little Bobtail swung his boat about, and backed her up to the accommodation-steps. The sailing-master, who also wore the Yacht Club uniform, walked quietly to the ladder, shaking his head to intimate that no visitors would be allowed on board. As Bobtail, who was not good at taking a hint, especially when it did not agree with his inclination, did not suspend his movements, the sailing-master walked down the steps to the little platform.

  "We don't allow any one to come on board to-night," said he, shoving off the boat with his foot.

  "Is this Colonel Montague's yacht?" asked Mrs. Taylor.

  "It is."

  "Well, I want to see him."

  "O, if you wish to see the owner, you can come on board."

  Just at that moment a steward in a white jacket called the party on deck to supper. The old gentleman, Mrs. Montague, and her daughter descended the companion-way first. As the colonel was about to follow them, the sailing-master told him that the woman in the boat wished to see him. He stepped over to the rail as Bobtail helped his mother upon the platform.

  "Do you wish to see me, madam?" demanded the colonel, rather haughtily.

  "My son wants to see this yacht very much. He's very fond of boats; and I thought I'd make bold to ask you if he might," replied Mrs. Taylor; and Bobtail thought then that his mother had more "cheek" than he had.

  "You may come on board," replied the colonel, very much to the astonishment of the young skipper, and apparently to the equal astonishment of the sailing-master.

  Bobtail went forward on the instant the permission was granted, leaving his mother to follow at her leisure; but she stood for a moment talking with the colonel. The young boatman examined the Penobscot in every part except the cabin, which he was not permitted to enter while the family were at supper. It would take all the exclamation marks in a fount of type adequately to express his views of the Penobscot and her appurtenances. The sailing-master followed him in his perambulations above and below, and when the family had finished their meal, he conducted him to the cabin, and permitted him to look into the state-rooms. Bobtail had never seen anything half so magnificent, and he expressed his delight and astonishment in the strongest language his vocabulary afforded.

  "Well, Robert, have you seen enough?" said his mother, when he returned to the deck.

  "I believe I've seen her through. I thought the Skylark was a big thing before, but she's nothing but skim-milk compared with this yacht," replied he. "If I had such a yacht as this, I wouldn't go ashore at all."

  "Our people don't go on shore much," said the sailing-master, pleased with the enthusiasm of the boy.

  "I suppose she'll sail some—won't she?" added Bobtail.

  "She has logged fifteen knots in a fresh breeze."

  "How far have you been in her?"

  "We have been down to Eastport and Mount Desert. We left Bar Harbor this morning, and shall run up to Belfast to-morrow evening. Next week we go to Newport, and up Long Island Sound."

  "That's the life that suits me!" exclaimed Bobtail, with enthusiasm, as he walked aft to the accommodation-steps.

  Colonel Montague was smoking his cigar, and Little Bobtail thought he was gazing very earnestly at him; but when he returned the gaze, the dignified gentleman was looking some other way. He helped his mother into the boat, and pulled her to the landing-steps.

  "Do you know Colonel Montague, mother?" asked Bobtail.

  "I used to work for him before you was born," replied Mrs. Taylor, looking over the water at the Penobscot.

  "He didn't seem to know you," added Bobtail.

  "I haven't seen him before for years."

  "I didn't think he'd let us go on board."

  "I knew he would, if he recognized me."

  "If he did recognize you, he was awful stiff about it. He hardly spoke to you, if you did work for him before I was born."

  "That's his way, Robert. He is a great man now, and I s'pose he don't make much of folks beneath him. But he's a fine man, and I always liked him."

  "He may be a fine man, but he has a very awkward way of showing it. Why didn't he shake hands with you, and look as though he had seen you before?"

  "That isn't his way, Robert; and he is rich enough to do just as he pleases."

  "I don't believe he is rich enough to be hoggish," added Bobtail, whose impressions of Colonel Montague were not altogether favorable.

  "But he is a good man, and has a very kind heart. He will do almost anything for poor people."

  "I should like to sail in that yacht first rate; but I would rather go with somebody that isn't so stiff as Colonel Montague. That sailing-master seems to be afraid of him, and daresn't say his soul's his own."

  "Did you expect Colonel Montague to take off his hat to you, and treat you like a nabob?" asked Mrs. Taylor, indignantly.

  "I didn't expect him to say anything to me; but if you used to work for him, I should think he would have spoken a civil word or two to you."

  "And so he did. He spoke to me when you were looking at the vess
el; and he spoke very kindly to me, too."

  "He went below in two minutes after you reached the deck."

  "Well, his supper was waiting for him. I was only his servant, and I don't expect great folks to take much notice of me; and you won't after you have lived to be half as old as I am."

  Mrs. Taylor seemed to be entirely satisfied with Colonel Montague, and she walked home, while her son, who was not so well satisfied with the owner of the Penobscot, went off to the Skylark, where he was soon joined by the Darwinian. At an early hour the captain and the crew retired, and doubtless slept very well, for they were up at sunrise in the morning. Monkey gorged himself with bacon at their early breakfast; and long before the hour appointed for the party to come on board, the Skylark was ready for their reception, with mainsail set, flags flying, and the anchor hove up to a short stay.

  Monkey had a great deal to say about the Penobscot, and Bobtail described her cabin, state-rooms, kitchen, and forecastle while they were waiting. She lay only a cable's length from the Skylark, and they could see all that was going on upon her deck.

  "That's Colonel Montague getting into that boat," said Bobtail, as the owner of the Penobscot stepped into his barge.

  The boat was manned by two sailors, each of whom pulled two oars. The colonel seated himself in the stern-sheets, which were cushioned with crimson velvet, and took the tiller-lines in his hand.

  "She's coming this way," added Monkey, as the barge moved towards the Skylark.

  In a moment she was alongside, and Colonel Montague, to the surprise of the skipper, stepped on board. He wondered greatly what had procured him the honor of a visit from such a distinguished man.

  "Good morning, my lad," said the colonel, with a pleasant smile, which seemed to belie his conduct the evening before.

  "Good morning, sir," replied Bobtail.

  "Good morning, sir," added Monkey, exhibiting all the teeth in his head.

  Colonel Montague glanced at the Darwinian, and possibly debated in his own mind whether the crew of the Skylark was man or monkey.

  "You have a fine little boat here," added the visitor.

  "She's a first-rate boat; but she ain't much side of yours," replied Bobtail, whose impressions in regard to the owner of the Penobscot were undergoing a rapid change. "She'll sail some, and she's good when it blows."

  "And you take parties out in her?" added the visitor.

  "Yes, sir; I have one to-day."

  "I'm afraid not, Captain Bobtail," said the colonel, with a smile.

  "I'm engaged, at any rate," added Bobtail, who, if the colonel had not smiled, would have thought he was impudent to doubt his word.

  "You must thank me for taking your party away from you. I found that some friends of mine at the Bay View House were to go in your boat to-day; but I invited them to go with me."

  "Well, sir, I don't thank you for it," said Bobtail, rather pertly.

  "Wait a minute, my lad. They told me they had engaged your boat; and I promised to make it all right with you. They were to pay you seven dollars for the day. Here is seven dollars;" and the colonel handed him this sum. "I suppose that will make it all right."

  "Yes, sir; that's handsome, and I'm very much obliged to you," answered Bobtail, warmly; and by this time he thought that the owner of the Penobscot was a prince.

  "Now, Captain Bobtail, if you would like to take a sail in the Penobscot, you may go with us, as you have lost your job for the day," added Colonel Montague.

  "Thank you, sir; I should like to go first rate!" exclaimed Bobtail, delighted with the idea.

  "You may go on board with me," continued the colonel.

  "I will, sir.—Monkey, you will lower the sail, and take care of the Skylark. Don't let any one have her; and I will pay you just the same as yesterday."

  The Darwinian was very well satisfied with this arrangement, and immediately began to consider what he should have for dinner, since the choice was left with him. The barge returned to the Penobscot, and Bobtail followed her owner on deck. Though the young skipper of the Skylark was very democratic in his ideas, he did not presume to take a place upon the quarter-deck with the family, but went forward and fraternized with the sailors, all of whom, except the mates, were young men. Presently the order was given to set the mainsail, and Bobtail took hold of the peak-halyard to lend a hand. He worked well, and by his activity won the favor of his new companions. He did his full share of all the work, because he was not fond of idleness. The party came on board, and the order was given to get under way.

  "Clear away the jib and flying-jib," said the sailing-master.

  Bobtail ran out on the bowsprit, and, dropping down upon the foot-rope, was at the outer end of the flying-jib boom in an instant, clearing away the sail.

  "How smart you are!" said Miss Grace Montague, who was standing with another young lady of the party near the foremast, when he returned to the deck.

  Little Bobtail blushed like a girl, for he was not accustomed to talking with such nice young ladies.

  "Thank you, miss; but it don't take more than half a day to loose a flying-jib," he replied.

  "But aren't you afraid of falling into the water?" she asked.

  "O, no. I'm used to vessels. I sail the Skylark, which you see there," replied Bobtail, pointing to the little yacht.

  "That's the boat we were going in," added the other young lady. "Then you are Captain Bobtail?"

  "Folks call me Little Bobtail; but I'm not captain," answered the young skipper, blushing again.

  "Run up the jib!" shouted the sailing-master.

  Bobtail sprang to the halyard, ungallantly turning his back to the young ladies. They looked at the short skirts of his coat, and he heard a silvery laugh, as he took in the slack of the rope. Miss Montague and Miss Walker were very much amused when they discovered the origin of his name.

  The wind was fresh; the Penobscot went off like "a thing of life," and Bobtail enjoyed the sail exceedingly. She ran down as far as Owl's Head, and then stood over towards the eastern shore of the bay. At one of the best places she lay to, and the party caught cod and haddock till they were tired of the sport, and then the yacht anchored under the lee of an island. The day was fine, and the excursionists desired to visit some of the islands in the vicinity. Both boats were manned, and went off in different directions, according to the fancy of those on board of them. Bobtail was permitted to occupy the fore-sheets of the one which carried Mrs. Montague and the two young ladies, for somehow he took great pleasure in looking at the latter, and wished they would be a little more sociable. This boat went to Blank Island, which has a high bluff on the east side of it, and all the party landed. The ladies and gentlemen ascended the steep side of the island, and reached the cliff which overhangs the sea.

  Bobtail followed them at a respectful distance, while the sailors remained near the boat. From the bluff he looked down into the little bay, where he had anchored the Skylark the night he picked her up. The cliff was about thirty feet high, and rose abruptly from the water, which was very deep at the foot of it, so that a large ship might have floated alongside the rocks. The party seated themselves near the cliff, and were observing the rolling sea beneath them, for a south-easterly wind was driving the huge waves into the little bay. It was a grand sight, and the two young ladies sat on the very edge of the precipice, watching the surges which beat and broke against the wall of rocks.

  "Don't go too near, Grace," said Mrs. Montague.

  "I'm not afraid, mother," replied the young lady.

  "These rocks crumble off sometimes, Miss Montague," added Bobtail, timidly approaching the spot.

  "There isn't any danger," answered the wilful miss.

  "Do you know what they call this place?" asked Bobtail.

  "I'm sure I don't."

  "Lover's Leap," laughed the young skipper. "The story is, that an Indian girl came to this island, and jumped off this cliff, because her father wouldn't let her marry the man she wanted."

  "Where
did she come from?" asked Miss Walker.

  "I'm sure I don't know."

  "Pooh! I don't believe any Indian girl leaped off these rocks. It wouldn't hurt her any if she did," sneered Miss Montague.

  "But she would drown in the water," suggested Bobtail.

  "Well, I don't believe the story, because I think there are a thousand just such cliffs, and some Indian girl leaped off every one of them," persisted Grace Montague. "I have seen ever so many 'Lover's Leaps' myself, and the stories about them are nothing but stories."

  "Perhaps this story is true," said Miss Walker, who was perchance more sentimental than her companion.

  "I don't believe a word of it. If the Indian girl wanted to drown herself, why should she come way out here, when she could find deep water enough near the shore?"

  "Perhaps it was to get away from her friends," suggested Miss Walker.

  "Perhaps it was, but I don't believe it. If I wanted to drown myself, I could find a better place than this," said Grace, rising, and standing on a loose stone close to the edge of the precipice. "If it were not for getting wet, I should just as lief jump off here as not;" and she swung her arms just as though she intended to take the leap.

  "Grace! Grace!" shrieked her mother, in frantic tones, as she saw her daughter demonstrating in this dangerous manner.

  The young lady was evidently startled by the shrill tones of her mother. She swung her arms back, as if she had lost her balance, and then went head first over the cliff. The loose stone on which she stood rolled back, and it was plain now that her foothold had been very insecure.

  "O, mercy, mercy!" screamed Mrs. Montague, as Grace disappeared over the precipice.

  The poor mother rushed towards the cliff, and in her agony would have thrown herself off, if the ladies with her had not held her. Little Bobtail was appalled as he saw Grace go over; but he believed in action rather than words. Kicking off his shoes, and divesting himself of his bobtail coat, he made a graceful and scientific dive into the depths below. He was celebrated as a diver and swimmer, and really felt almost as much at home in the water as on the land. And this was not the first time he had dived over this very cliff. He had done so several times before for sport and bravado, and therefore we are not disposed to magnify his conduct on the present occasion.