CHAPTER IV.
GRIT AND GRATITUDE.
It was now the month of October. The early frosts had rendered theair sharp and bracing. The nights were long, affording abundance ofsleep, and the forests were clothed in all the tints of autumn. Ben,encouraged by the unexpected success he had met with in the sale of histimber, assured that his wife was contented and happy, and his mindbuoyant with hope, drove the axe through the timber in very wantonnessof strength. It was no trifling addition to his happiness to find thatCharlie was not only industrious, but had a natural aptitude for theuse of tools.
He bought him a light, keen-tempered axe, that he might cut up thesmall wood at the door, and split up oven-wood for Sally. When hebrought the axe from the smith’s, he said to Charles, “I will put ahandle in it, and then we will grind it.”
“I think,” he replied, “that I can put a handle in it, if you will tellme what kind of wood to make it of.” Charles was not acquainted withthe different sorts of trees in this country.
“There is no white oak on the island,” said Ben; “but here is astraight-grained hornbeam: I will take that.”
He cut down the tree, and splitting from it a suitable piece, left theboy to make it himself. When he came in to dinner, the boy had made thehandle, and put it in the axe. Ben examined it with surprise.
“I couldn’t have made it any better myself,” he said. They now groundthe axe, and Charlie went into the woods every day with Ben. He wouldchop into one side of the tree what little he was able, while Benchopped into the other; but when it was down, he was quite useful intrimming off the limbs with his little axe: thus he learned to striketrue, and to chop with either hand forward.
Ben, every once in a while, came across a maple or oak, that stoodin the way: as he knew that by and by he should want a cart, plough,harrow, and other tools, he cut them, and taking them to the mill withhis logs, had them sawed into joist and plank of different dimensions,and then put them in the front room to season under cover, that theymight not warp or crack.
Charlie could not accomplish much in the woods, because he had not yetbecome accustomed to chopping, and was not strong enough; yet it wasvery pleasant for Ben to have company. But there were other ways inwhich, boy as he was, he was exceedingly useful, and a source of directprofit, which may serve to show to any little boy who reads this, howmuch a boy, who has the will and pluck, may do. In the first place hetook care of the hens. Now, there never were any hens that enjoyedthemselves better, or laid more eggs, than Charlie’s. The stumps ofthe trees Ben had cut were alive with bugs and wood-worms, also sowbugs, that harbored in the decayed roots; here the hens scratched, andscratched, and feasted. “Cock-a-doodle-do!” cries the rooster; “I’vefound some worms!” and all the hens would run and gobble them up. Youwill remember that the ledge, in which the middle ridge terminated,was perpendicular; not a breath of north or east wind could get there,because all back of it was forest, and there in the hot sun the hensdug holes, and rolled in the mellow earth, where, even in winter, itwas warm when the sun shone, and Charlie scraped the snow away for themdown to the ground; they could also go to the beach and get gravel,as the island was so far at sea that there was seldom any ice on thebeach.
Charlie also milked, and took care of the calf which they were raising,and fed him with meal and potatoes. Hens like fish as well as cats, andhe caught flounders, tom-cod, and dug clams for them, so that they laidmost all winter. This was a great help to Sally, as Charlie’s cominginto the family made her a great deal more work, for she had stockingsand mittens to knit, and cloth to spin and weave, to make clothes forhim. She had to do it, too, at a great disadvantage; for, as they hadno sheep, and raised no flax, and had no loom, she was obliged to buythe wool and flax, and send the yarn to her mother to weave. This tooka great deal of time, because her mother was only able to do Sally’swork after she had done her own.
Charlie cut all the wood, except the large logs: these Ben cut, andCharlie hauled them in on a hand-sled. Now, all this saved Ben’s time;but he did more: he dug clams for chowder, and caught lobsters. Therocks on the White Bull were a great resort of lobsters; many werefound under the eel-grass and the projections of the rocks. Wheneverhe saw a bunch in the eel-grass, he would pull it away and find agreat lobster, which he would put in his basket. He would also peepunder the rocks, and say, “I see you, old fellow,” and with hisflounder-spear pick out another. He also caught smelts, which area first-rate pan fish. Round the points of the ledges were cunners(sea-perch) and cod: these he caught also. This all went directly tothe support of the family.
Children reared in hardship, and thrown upon their own resources,develop fast; and never was Charlie more happy than when, bringing homea mess of fish, he felt he was of direct benefit to his benefactors.In the enjoyment of abundance of food, warm clothes, plenty of sleep,and breathing the bracing sea air, with the consciousness that he wasuseful and beloved, he began to grow with great rapidity, and increasein vigor and enterprise every day. When he first came he hardly daredspeak above his breath, and the most he attempted was a sickly smile.But now he sang at his work or play (for he had good ear and voice),could laugh as merry as Sally herself, and often put the squawks in anuproar with his merriment. His pale cheeks had regained their color,and his eyes all the fire of youth, for he loved, and felt that hewas beloved, and his finely-cut and delicate features were full ofexpression.
Charlie, during his wandering life, had acquired considerableexperience in fishing. Within less than a mile of the island was anexcellent fishing-ground, where schools of large codfish would sooncome to feed. Charlie knew, if he could catch these, it would not onlybe a valuable supply of food for winter, but they would sell for cashat the westward, or at the store for half cash and half groceries.
But the great difficulty in the way was, he could not venture to gothere in the canoe. Ben was a giant, and everything he worked with wasmade upon a corresponding scale. Charlie could hardly lift his axe.His canoe was twenty-five feet in length, and the blades of the oarswere twice as wide as common, so that they might take stronger hold ofthe water. Ben made them before he went to Boston, that, if the windcame to the north-west, he might be able to exert all his strength;otherwise, in a severe blow, he would have only pulled the oars throughthe water without forcing the boat ahead.
Charlie could hardly move this great thing in the harbor, much less ina sea, and against the wind.
Joe Griffin now came to chop, which increased Charlie’s anxiety tocatch the fish, as there were more mouths to fill, and Joe’s held agreat deal. He at length broached the matter to Ben, saying, if he onlyhad a light canoe, that he could pull, he could catch fish, for he hadbeen used to fishing.
“I would make you one,” said Ben, “if I had time; but Joe is here, andthe oxen are coming from the main, and I must chop.”
“But,” persisted Charlie, “I could dig it out; if you told me how, Ithink I could make the outside.”
“Well,” said Ben, pleased with the boy’s evident anxiety to be useful,“I will cut the tree, and you can be working it out, and we will helpyou in rainy days, and at odd times.”
“O, no, don’t,” said Charlie; “I want to cut the tree, and make it allclear from the stump.”
“Why, Charlie, it takes the largest kind of trees to make a canoe; it’sno use to cut a valuable tree to make a plaything; it ought to be aslarge as you can cleverly pull, or you’ll outgrow it. It will take youa week to cut down such a tree with your little axe.”
“No matter; do let me try.”
Ben picked out the tree, marked out the direction of the kerf on thebark with his axe, and left him. When Charlie came in to dinner,the perspiration stood in drops on his face, and he was as red as aturkey-cock.
“Well,” said Joe, “have you got through the bark?”
“Almost,” replied Charlie.
At night the boy showed evident signs of fatigue.
“Let me look at your hands,” said Ben. There were large bliste
rs oneach; he pricked them with a needle, and Sally rubbed some butter onthem.
“I’ll give you a dozen or two of my round cuts in the morning,” saidJoe.
“O, no; I don’t want you to. I can cut it down.”
“Perhaps I shall go out after you are abed, and cut it down.”
“O, don’t,” cried the boy, his eyes filling with tears at the verypossibility of such a catastrophe.
“He don’t mean to do any such thing,” said Sally; “he’s only in fun;nobody shall touch the tree.”
Relying on her assurance, the wearied boy went to bed.
“He’ll be sore enough in the morning,” said Joe; “but I like his grit,any how.”
“Don’t tease him too much, Joe,” said Sally; “he’s a tender-heartedthing, and takes everything in earnest.”
“Well, I won’t, if I can help it.”
The next day, at dinner, Charlie said to Ben, “I have cut the wholelength of the axe-handle on both sides; can’t I cut on the edges?”
“No; for then you cannot tell which way it will fall; and it might fallon you and kill you. If you’re going to be such a chopper, you musthave an axe-handle as long as ours; take this afternoon and make one,and that will rest you.”
Charlie did so, and in the morning, as soon as he could see, was inthe woods. About nine o’clock the enormous tree began to totter. Hehad received a promise from Ben that nobody should come near him tillthe tree was down. He stood at the end of the kerf, just where he hadbeen told to, and watched the top of the tree as it wavered in the air,trembling all over, half with fear, and half with excitement, whilethe perspiration, unheeded, dropped from his chin. Still the enormoustree did not fall. Charlie put his shoulder against it, and when hefelt it waver, pushed till the sparks came in his eyes; but he soonfound this was useless. He didn’t like to stand right in front and cut;at length, summoning all his resolution, he stepped to the largerkerf, on the side towards which he expected it would fall, and, withset teeth, plied the axe: snap went the wood; he jumped aside; the topnow began evidently to incline; crack! crack! and then with a greatcrash, that made the boy’s heart leap into his throat, the enormouscone fell, crushing the smaller growth, and sending broken limbs thirtyfeet in the air, and shaking the ground all around. The boy leaped uponthe prostrate tree, and burst into loud cheers. It was the battle ofWaterloo to him.
“Let us go and see,” said Ben; “it will do him so much good.”
“You’ve done well, Charlie,” said Joe; “you never will cut many biggertrees than that, if you work in the woods all your lifetime.”
“Now, father, where shall I cut it off?”
Ben marked the place. “You had better go in now, Charlie, and rest tilldinner-time, and cool off.”
CHARLIE’S BIG JOB.--Page 56.]
“I ain’t a bit tired,” said the proud, resolute boy; but Ben made himgo in, when he found, after the excitement was over, that an hour ortwo of rest did not come amiss, for he laid down before the fire, and,falling asleep, did not wake till dinner-time. After dinner he beganto dig it out, and, under Ben’s direction, hewed off a good deal ofthe outside. Ben then took it on his shoulder, and carried it into thefront room, so that he could work on it rainy days and evenings till itwas done. He made the oars himself, and seats and thole-pins, and dugit out, so that it was very light for a canoe; and, for fear it mightsplit, Ben made some oak knees and put in it. When put into the watershe was found to be stiff, and row easy.
No captain was ever prouder of his new ship than was Charlie of hiscanoe. It was his own (the first thing he had ever owned), and by thebest possible right, for he had made it from the stump.
“There’s a mechanical principle in that boy, Ben,” said Joe; “do yousee how naturally he takes to tools, and what good proportions there isto them oars, and how true the bevel is on the blades, and how neat hecut the head and stern boards into that canoe?”
There was nothing Charlie now longed for so much as a calm day. In themean time he made himself a fisherman’s anchor. He took an oak limb,which was a little sweeping, made it flat, and broader than it wasthick, and sharpened the ends; then he procured a crotch, and boringtwo holes in the flat piece, put a flat stone, larger a little thanthe piece of flat wood, edgeway upon it, and run the two forks of thecrotch down each side of the stone, and through the holes, and wedgedthem, and put a wooden pin through to hold them. When this was thrownoverboard, the sharp points of the wood would stick into the bottom,and the weight of the stone would hold them there. The stone, being somuch larger than the cross-piece of wood, always brought the wood intothe ground. These anchors, when the bottom is rocky, are much betterthan iron ones, as you can pull them out of the rocks, or pull them topieces; and they will hold a boat as long as it is safe to stay, orsmooth enough to fish; whereas an iron one will often stick fast in therocks, and you must cut your cable. Hence these sort of anchors aremuch used by fishermen who are often round the rocks; besides, theycost nothing but the making.
The pleasant day came at last; by light Charlie was on thefishing-ground, all in sight of the house. By two o’clock in theafternoon he was rowing home with three hundred weight of fish.A prouder boy there never was, as he came home before a pleasantsoutherly wind, not having to pull any, only just to steady the boatwith the oars. Every few moments he kept looking over his shoulder tosee if anybody saw him; but Ben and Joe were where they could not seehim. By and by he saw Sally come to the door and look; he put his capon an oar, and held it up; she waved her hand to him, caught up somedry brush, and ran in. Presently he saw a black smoke. “She’s puttingon the tea-kettle to get me a good hot supper. Won’t it go good? forhaven’t I earned it?” said he, as he glanced at the codfish, some ofwhich he had hard work to master, and get into the boat, they were solarge. By the time he had eaten his supper and dressed his fish, themen came in from their work, when he received many and well-deservedpraises for his day’s work.
Charlie Bell, The Waif of Elm Island Page 5