SATURDAY a? JOURNAL.

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Cruiser Crusoe:

LIFE ON A TROPIC ISLE.

BY LAFAYETTE LAFOREST.

NUMBER ONE.

I INHERITED nautical instincts from my father,
who, early in life, had been a sailor. After his
marriage, he settled down as a farmer on a small
patrimonial catate, not far from Yarmouth, on
the east coast of England. '

Our residence was in si ht of a lonely kind of
cove, which I shall call S . Margaret’s Bay. Iii-
to this secluded spot fell the river which run past
our house.

As it had been understood that I was to be-
come a tiller of the soil, my father did not ob-
ject to to following my tastes for boats and the
water. t thlve years Icould reef, steer, furl,
etc., on board a small vessel.

Like most boys, I loved the sea, and had I not
known my mother’s dislike of eVery thing con-
nected with the water, I should have looked for-
ward to the day when I could make'long voy«
ages, and see such strange lands as those  read
of in my father‘s library. Still, I _often sighed
in secret for the wild, free life of a Jolly sailor.

My fondness for the water, however, could
not pass unnoticed, so that dear Ellen, my
younger sister, my brothers, and Polly, my cou-
sin, would often, in fun, call me the little man-
ner. ,

In our part of the world, we ussd to call what
other persons term lakes or lochs, by thename
of broads. Now, it was my delight to sail and
swim in these vast expanses of water, in some
instances many miles in extent. These were
indeed happy and halcyon days. to me. _

I only wish that eVei boy, in after life, had
such happy hours- to 00k
back to as those I then enjoy-

 

 

ed.

An elder brother of my fa-
ther’s had emigrated to Vir-
ginia, and a friendly intern
course by letter was 'ept up
between the two families.

James Challoner-wsuch was
the name'ofthe uncle I speak
of—had often wished my fa-
ther to leave England and
settle near him. or at least
send me to him; for, although
married, he had no children,
and was very fond of young
peo is.

A fondness-for home and its
comforts however, withan
intense dislike to part with
me, made my father eVer re-
turn evasive answers tonll
such invitations. He would
often talk of visiting his bro.
ther, but somehow the cares
of business, and a constantly-
increasing family, had thus
far revented him. '

y fondness for the water
kept increasing, and finally
it to the followimr adveno
tone, which resultc in, my
bein called by the name
whic heads this narrative.

Three miles up the river
that passed before, our door,
and ell into St. Margaret’s
Bay, was one of those broads
to which I have alluded.

It was about eight miles
Ion , and about five miles in
wi , th. I had never failed to
obtain a rot‘usion of fish
whenever visited it, and so,
one morning, I started early,
in the hope of having a fine
day’s sport. A friend ofmino,
who Was now absent, had a
boat moored alongside the
shore: a pretty vessel, built
of light oak planks, and with a bow carved like
a swan’shead and neck. This vessel I had al-
ways been permitted tense, and so now, with a
li ht heart, I put off in it.

t was eight o’clockwa splendid morning, al-
though the sky was overcast and the air sultry.
As ‘I glided (war the glassy pool, toward an island
in the middle of the broad, I paused to examine,
with interest, the whitewater-Iii ’, its rose-like
flower sitting on the surface, bes do the yellow
water-lily, both with oval leaves, so smooth and
shiny that the watcrran over them as if they
were, oiled. But I did not stOp long, my mind
being too absorbed in the idea of s ert. '

I had with me, besides my ro and line, a
basket of provision, and a bottle of wine and
water, so that I was well provided for the day.

When within a stone’s throw of the island
shore, I cast anchor and began to fish.

My endeavors were crowned with great suc-
cess, and at about twolve, I adjourned toward the
island with the double view of taki some re-
freshment, and of seeking shelter a must a com-
ing storm, which already began sig ring through
the trees, and moving the water into wavy rip-

les.
p Fastening the boat to a bending willow, I
landed.

Before I could reach the shelter of the copse
ahead 01' me, however, a storm of wind and rain,
such as I had never seen before, burst upon me.
The rain came down in great sheets from the
black and angry heavens, over which the clouds
rushed in torn, rag ed masses,

The storm was 6 short duration; ere half an
hour the sky had cleared; the wind had fallen,
the grass sparkled with myriad gems, and the
feathered songsters of'the woods“ oured forth
their Joy in varied notes. I now bullied forth,
refreshed and ha py.

I never thong t nature had looked half so
gloriously lowly. It was now one o’clock—time
to‘think of returning home, especially as I
hacllkpromised to take Polly and Ellen for a
we .

I shouldered my load, having collected all my
fish in a basket, and made for the landing.

The boat was gone .’

I rubbed my eyes in dismay as I saw the boat
about half a mile oil", slowly moving toward the
river, which passed my father‘s house, and which
ran through the lake.

. Like a child, as I was, I sunk upon the grass
in utter despair. .

I The broad was rarely frequented, especrally at
this season of the year, and to the best of my be-
lief, it had no other boat within some miles.

I thought at first of swimming, but soon
abandoned this idea, as the main land was two
miles off, and I knew that my strength would
not suffice for the task. V _

I had read of men cast away on desert islands,
of those who had voluntarily selected such a life,
but I had never imagined my being a prisoner
on an acre of land in the midst of an English
broad.

I thought of a raft, but I had nothing in my
possession in the shape of tools. '

Before night my provismn was exhausted. I
Was hungry, but this did not prevent my crawl—
in into a hut made of some branches.

hen, worn and weary, I fell into a sound
sleep. ‘

It was broad day when I Waked, to hear my _

father calling aloud:
. “ Alfred! Alfred! my dear boy !
on ‘3”

The boat had been found at daybreak by some
laborers, who at once went to my father’s house,
saying that they had seen me use it on the pre-
vious morning.

His delight at finding me may be imagined, as
well as that of my mother and sisters, who, from
that time, would insist on calling me “Cruiser
Crusoe.” ‘

Time went on, my mind ever reverting to the
wild pleasures of a life on the deep, blue sea.

Finally it seemed as if my hope would be near-

Where are

 

ly realized.

My uncle James paid us a visit, and finally suc-
‘ ceeded in persuading mv father to leave England,
with all his family, for Virginia.

The name of the vessel, in which we sailed was
the Reformation, John Thomas, master.

There Were my father and mother, .myself, my
sister Ellen, my cousin Polly, and SIX younger
children. There were also my uncle James and
his household,thus oddly composed : Peter,Jack,
London, Croesus, negroes; CaJoe, a child; Ha-
rar, Bella, Sarah, negresses, and Venus, an In-
dian girl, whom he had saved from slaughter,
when her father was massacred. .

With the exception of myself, all stood gazmg
mournfully at the receding shore. Onmy part
I could have almost danced with delight, as I
felt the ship booming along toward the great
wilderness of waters.

My relatives, as soon as We lost sight of land,
went below to conceal their agitation; but I,
who was in my clement, remained on deck, de-
lighted with every thing~with the sighing of
the wind throu h the rigging, the creaking of
the masts, yardgs and timbers, and the sight of
the sailors, old and young, as they ran hither and
thither, obeying orders.

Presently, my father and uncle came on
deck. All the rest were suffering from sea—sick-
ness.

On the 25th of October we made Cape St. Vin-
cent. The mate wished to run up the coast for
the trade winds; but, oWing to a contrary wind
from the north-east, he wascompelled to sheer
oil‘ from the land, and this for many days, until
he was quite out of his latitude, in a. region with
which he was totally unacquainted.

The captainliad previously been so injured by
a fall, that he could not come up to attend to
the ship, so that we were standin 1' along, with
not a soul aboard capable of working the vessel
by the rules of navigation.

On St. Martin’s eve, tenth of November, the
storm augmented, With a heavy sea.

When morning broke, the wind blew a most

 

terrific gale, sending the great seas careering

 

 

along with a force which soon damaged our rud-
der so that we could not steer.

Nor was this the worst of it ;, for the carpen-
ter being sent to make Van‘examination, sOOn
came, reporting fourfeet of water in the hold!

At this moment our brave and gallant skipper
coming on deck, endeavored to encourage the
crew, who Were manfnlly exerting themselves
at the pum s. 

The clouds, meanwhile, gathered darker over
the sky, while the wind increased in violence.
Gradually sliifting,.it blew with terrific force
from the north and west. Still, we endeavored
to keep up our spirits, although the shrieking
of the wind and t e pitch—darkness of the night
filled our minds with direful forebodingS.

Our. sails, with the exception of a cloee-reefed
maintop—sail and foretop-mast staysail, were all
snugly stowed, yet such was the violence of the
sea, that the ship rolled her lee-rail under, al-
most at every plunge. ,

Being, as it were in spirit, one of the crew, I
had taken my watch regularly with the rest, and
so had my father, the other members of the
family remaining below. As my father'and I
stood on the quarter-deck, we observed a little,
round light, like a tremulous star, streaming
along, and sparkling With a blaze, sometimes
shooting from shroud to shroud, and appearing
about to settle on the fore-rigging, just below
the top.

For half the night it kept with us, frequently
running along the fore-yard to the very end,
and then returning; but toward morning, we
lost sight of it.

The superstitious sailors form many presages
concerning this fire, which, nevertheless, is com-
mOn in all storms. Perhaps it is the same which
the Genoese, in the Mediterranean, call Castor
and Pollux. If only one light appeared without
another, they considered it an omen of a great
tern est.

T c Italians, and others on the Adriatic, call

label “Old Rye" on it.

 

it a sacred body; the Spaniards, St. Elmo Fire,

 

and have an authentic and miraculous legend
concerning it.

Could ‘ it now have enabled us to take an ob-
servation with our quadrants, we should have
considered it miraculous.

But we were like men hoodwinked, running
hither and thither through the black storm,
without an idea of our true locality.

All this time the leakage fillin the hold pre-
vented onr getting1 at beef or, esh water, nor
could any fire be lig ted in the galley (the ecok’s
house) to prepare any meat.

We were therefore obliged to put up with rain
water and hard biscuit.

As we all took our turn at the pumps, the lack
of stimulating food affected us to a degree which
made us very weak. .

Still we kept the pumps going vigorously, for
to cease mus result in the ship’s going down.

In the mornin , when lwent below, [found
my mother, brot ers, sisters and Polly in praymg

My uncle would cry, and reproach himself bit-
tcrly as being the cause of our misfortune. As
for my father and myself, we had long since
abandoned all idea of overseeing land again, and
only worked because we felt it to be our duty.

Once, such an immense sea broke over us that
it covored the ship from stem to stem, asifwith
one vast sheet of water. The men at the helm
were nearly washed Overboard, while all the rest
were obliged to hold on hard to ropes and belay-
in pine.

The crew, though half-dead with fatigue, ex.
erted themselves manfully at_ the pumps,

The seas increased every minute. . At one mo-
ment the ship was tossed to the very clouds, and
the next, was carried far down into the watery
valleys, with her lee-mil hurled in the foaming,
hissing waters. , , ' '

Soon after, down she Went rigour, this time
burying herself in a trough of, , efsga, so that,
she was submerged nearly to herwaist.

Clinging to whatever they could seize,. the
crew, expecting every moment tlmt the vessel

(continued on seventh page.) '

 

Taps from Beat Time.

[Wu rhere introduce to readers of the SATURDAY
JOURNAL a humorist of rare merit. Never snbstitub
mg contorted En lish nor half-hinted vulgarity for
Wit, BEAT TIME 0 allenges admiration and compels
a laugh by the [power of what he says or sug ests.
His an Faced y is of that sort or quality whic ren—
dercd Tom Hood so famous~always tempered with

sympathy for the follies and weaknesses of human
nature. .

BEAT TIME will make his mark on the journalism
of the day, and will win for himself and this paper
( or which he writes exclusively) an enviable re uta-
t on. Our cotem oraries oi' the press are at 1i crty
to reprint from this column, by iving ex licit credit
to both author and SATURDAY OURNALJp

I HAD the toothache yesterday. That infernal
little hollow tooth of mine held a bushel of ache.
It ached cleandown to the toe of my boot; it
was a regular 0 K ache, too! My face swelled
so much that my most familiar creditor didn’t
know me. You wouldn’t have wanted very
much of my jaw. Every time the tooth thump-
ed, it lifted me clear ofl‘ the chair. I reall
thought I should go crazy-You probably thin
my fare wouldn’t have cost me much—I begged
for a revolver to end my momentous moments.

I remembered of a quart—bottle of stryelmine
in the house. I got it and drank it all; didn’t
even take the cork out——Ir sucked it in—and
prepared to die. But suddenly I discovered the
‘ The label played the
mischief with my intentions. If it hadn’t been
for that label! ‘

I laid down on the floor, rolled ovor, and im-
mediately got up. A good many people who are
depending on rue—for various sumo—hearing of
my danger—Tor their danger-came in to tell me
what the didn’t knowwas good for the tooth-
ache, bu begged me to do something, as they
were sure _I wasnot quite (prepared to go yet.

The ladies sym athize with me. One said
she had not he the toothache for many

cars; but .she hadn’t a
00th in her head. HOne
old maid declared she had it
in her two front. teeth very
badly only the day before;
but know, privately, that
all her teeth are false. All
the while my tooth, with the
spirit of a hundred aches,
was heating time to the mu—
sic of Fisher’s Hornpipe. I
snatched the ton s and ran
upstairs and wor 'ed for fif—
teen minutes to pull the in-
fernal tooth, but it wouldn’t
bud e an inch.

I ad a notion to go to the
dentist, but then I got afraid
that he might pull it. It
means business to go there.
But I started three or four
times, hoping it would stop
aching before I got to our
gate—which it didn’t. Fin-
ally I crammed my hat over
my eyes, took my face in
both hands, and started.

«1 I was crazier than I ever
was in my life, and that is
saying a good deal. I met a
fellow I owed and paid, him
five dollars—I was so out of
my head.

neared the den tist’s door.
' Inerved myself up—so did
the tooth—and then, with a
heroism worthy of a, better
cause—went. past, and round
home again. I thought of
the river; then I thought of
that young lady who had mis-
taken me for a. single man,
and then went back to the
dentist’s room.

Shut my eyes and went in.

I asked him svhat he’dig'ive
Be to let him pull the moth.

esaid, laughinggas. I told
, him itwas no laughing mat-
- ter, and, I didn’t want any
of his gas. He told mete sit down and en.
qu myself. and he’d, pull it anyhow. Ibegged
him to pull easy on it. He got the forceps on
it; then I asked him what he’d take to let me
off Without pulling the teeth. He told me to
hold on. I held on his arm. A second! and I
thought my head had been a bombshell, and had
busted. I asked the dentist if my backbone had
come up With it, and felt of my face to see if it
was all there.

But the tooth was well out.

It was the first time in his life he, had, ever
made the mistake of pullin the right tooth the
first trial. Yes, there on t e table lay my little
tooth—still achin like thunder! It was true
to its instincts. hen the dentist asked me for
his pay, and I told him to charge it, I was sure
Iliad got in my right mind again.

My face has one down again, but I flatter
myself I have still enough left to do business on.

I HAVE lost a ratan terrier. The loss was not
so heavy—only ten pounds. I got measured for
him six months a ,0. He was put up expressly
for family use. I any one finds him or part of
him, in his market-basket when he comes from
market, I will ive ten dollars fortthe return of
him, or parts 0 him to me. I mean I will give
my note—mynote is considered as good as my
word, in this vicinity. '

MY little daughter asks me if it is day after to»
morrow yet. I '

The other day she said ‘6 Pa, why don’tyou
get all your whiskers shaved off, like Inn’s f",

she was standin out on the fence and I call~
ed to her to come in. Said she: “ I’ll come in
two little bits.”

She is a very pro-cautious child.

Some men neVer drink lathe morningv—they
never, have. any thingleft over. , ,
, WANTED—Correspondean with any number
of youn ladies. Reverence required~looks ex-

han . , , 
c "Yours entire march, BEAT TIME. *

 

 

 

 

 

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