Haste and waste; or, The young pilot of Lake Champlain. A story for young people

Front matter

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Preface

The sixth and last volume of the Woodville stories contains the record of a mechanical, rather than a moral triumph, though the virtues of patience and perseverance are incidentally illustrated, and the "little captain" of the Woodville is always a good son, a forbearing brother, and a kind friend. Lawry Wilford, the young pilot, is a boy of spirit and energy, who overcomes difficulties by a strong faith in himself, and redeems his family from poverty, in spite of the bad example and the bad conduct of his father and his older brother.

Several of the characters previously introduced in this series will be found on board of the steamer "Woodville, whose history is contained in this volume, and in whose pleasant excursions on Lake Champlain our young readers are invited to join, with the hope that they will all be pleased with the boat and her gentlemanly commander.

In bringing the "Woodville stories to a close, the author 1 * (5)

PREFACE.

cannot neglect again to thank his partial young friends — whose still increasing numbers he views with delighted astonishment — for the interest they have manifested in him and his books. He would also gratefully acknowledge his indebtedness to the members of the press who have so often and so kindly noticed his works ; and not less to those who, in a friendly spirit, have pointed out his literary errors and short-comings.

WILLIAM T. ADAMS.

Hareison Square, Mass., September 23, 1866.

8 CONTENTS.

Chap. XV. — The New Captain 207

Chap. XVI. — The Excursion to Whitehall. . . 224 Chap. XVII. — Burlington to Isle La Motte. . . 242 Chap. XVIII. — Ten Thousand in Gold. . . .260 Chap. XIX. — Captured and Recaptured. . . . 279 Chap. XX. — The Little Captain and his Motto. . 297

HASTE AND WASTE.

OR, THE

YOUNG PILOT OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

Chapter I. The Squall On The Lake

" Stand by, Captain John ! " shouted Lawry Wilford, a stout boy of fourteen, as he stood at the helm of a sloop, which was going before the wind up Lake Champlain.

"What's the matter, Lawry?" demanded the captain, who was taking his midday meal with his crew and one passenger in the little cabin.

" We're going to have a squall," continued the young pilot, as he glanced at the tall peaks of the Adirondacks, the more northerly of which were entirely enveloped by a dense mass of angry black clouds. (^1)

There was a squall in those clouds, in the judgment of Lawry Wilford ; but having duly notified the captain of the impending danger to his craft, he did not assume any further responsibility in the management of the sloop. It was very quiet on the lake ; the water was smooth, and the tiny waves sparkled in the bright sunshine. There was no roll of distant thunder to admonish the voyagers, and the youth at the helm was so much accustomed to squalls and tempests, which are of frequ.ent occurrence on the lake, that they had no terrors to him. It was dinner time, and the young pilot, fearful that the unexpected guest might reduce the rations to a low ebb for the second table, was more concerned about this matter than about the squall.

Captain John, as he was familiarly called on board the Missisque, which was the name of the sloop, was not a man to be cheated out of any portion of his dinner by the approach of a squall ; and though his jaws may have moved more rapidly after the announcement of the young pilot, he did not neglect even the green-apple pies, the fixst of the season, prepared with care and skill by Mrs. Captain John, who resided on board, and did " doctor's " duty at the galley. Captain John did not abate a single mouthful of the meal, though he knew how rapidly the mountain showers and squalls travel over the lake. The sloop did not usually make more than four or five miles an hour, being deeply laden Avith lumber, which was piled up so high on the deck that the mainsail had to be reefed, to make room for it ; and eating and sleeping were the only luxuries within the reach of the skipper.

The passenger, Mr. Randall, was a director of a country bank, journeying to Shoreham, about twenty miles above the point where he had embarked in the Missisque. He had crossed the lake in the ferry, intending to take the steamer at Westport for his destination. Being a man who was always in a hurry, but never in season, he had reached the steamboat landing just in time to see the boat moving off. Procuring a wherry, and a boy to row it, he had boarded the Missisque as she passed up the lake ; and, though the sloop was not a passenger boat, Captain John, as a special favor to the man of money, had consented to land him at Shoreham. 2

HASTE AKD WASTE, OE

Mr. Randall was a landsman, and had a proper respect for squalls and tempests, even on a fresh water lake. He heard the announcement of Lawry Wilford with a feeling of dread and apprehension, and straightway began to conjure up visions of a terrible shipwreck, and of sole survivors, clinging with the madness of desperation to broken spars, in the midst of the storm-tossed waters. But Mr. Randall was a director of a country bank, and a certain amount of dignity Avas expected and required of him. His official position before the people of Vermont demanded that he should not give way to idle fears. If Captain John, who was not a bank director, could keep cool, it was Mr. Randall's solemn duty to remain unmoved, or at least to appear to remain so.

The passenger finished the first course of the dinner, which Mrs. Captain John had made a little more elaborate than usual, in honor of the distinguished guest ; but he complained of the smallness of his appetite, and it was evident that he did not enjoy the meal after the brief colloqu)'^ between the skipper and the pilot. He was nervous ; his dignity was a " bore " to him, and was maintained at an immense sacrifice of personal ease ; but he persevered until a piece of the dainty green apple pie was placed before him, when he lacerated the tender feelings of Mrs. Captain John by abruptly leaving the table and rushing on deck.

This hurried movement was hardly to be regarded as a sacrifice of his dignity, for it was made with what even the skipper's lady was compelled to allow was a reasonable excuse. In spite of the demand for the proprieties of civilized society, rigorously exacted from directors of country banks who expect in due time to go to Congress, or be governors of the state, Mr. Randall sat at the hospitable board of the skipper of the Missisque in his shirt sleeves — a breach of etiquette for which there was no apology but the fact that his host appeared at the head of the table in the same undignified costume.

"Gracious ! " exclaimed Mr. Randall, as the tempting piece of green-apple pie, reeking with indigenous juices, was placed before him.

At the same moment the bank director further indicated his astonishment and horror by slapping both hands upon his breast in a style worthy of Brutus when Rome was in peril.

"What's the matter, squire?" demanded Captain John, dropping his knife and fork, and suspending *he operation of his vigorous jaws till an explanation could be obtained.

" I've left my coat on deck," replied Mr. Randall, rising from his chair.

" It's just as safe there as 'twould be on your back, squire," added the skipper.

"There's six thousand dollars in the pocket of that coat," said the bank director, with a gasp of apprehension, partly for the safety of the money, and partly for the safety of his person in the approaching squall.

Mr. Randall did not wait to hear any more. He vaulted up the companion ladder like a circus tumbler.

" Where's my coat ? " demanded he.

" There it is," replied Lawry Wilford, pointing to the garment under the rail. " We had a flaw of wind just now, and it came pretty near being blowed overboard."

" Gracious ! " exclaimed Mr. Randall, as he clutched the coat. " I'm too careless to live ! There's six thousand dollars in a pocket of that coat."

" Six thousand dollars ! " ejaculated Lawry, whose ideas of such a sum of money were very indefinite. " I should say you ought not to let it lie round loose in this way."

" I'm very careless ; but the money is safe," continued the director, with a long sigh of relief, as he placed his hand on the treasure.

" Stand by. Captain John ! " suddenly shouted Lawry, with tremendous energy, as he put the helm down, and rushed forward, almost upsetting the happy Mr. Randall in his passage.

The squall was coming up the lake in the track of the Missisque ; a dull, roaring sound was heard astern ; and all the mountain peaks had disappeared, closed in by the dense volume of black clouds. The episode of the bank director's coat had distracted the attention of the young pilot for a moment, and he had not observed the rapid swoop of the squall, as it bore down upon the sloop. He leaped over the piles of lumber to the forecastle, and had cast loose the peak halyard, when Captain John tumbled up the companion-way m time to see that ]ie had lingered too long over the green-apple pie, and that one piece would have been better for his vessel, if not for him.

" Let go the throat halyard ! " roared he. " Down with the mainsail ! down with the mainsail ! "

Lawry did not need any prompting to do his duty ; but before he could let go the throat halyard, the squall was upon the sloop. Mr. Randall had seized hold of the rail, and was crouching beneath the bulwark, expecting to go to the bottom of the lake, for he was too much excited to make a comparison of the specific gravities of pine boards and fresh water, and therefore did not realize that lumber would float, and not sink.

The squall did its work in an instant ; and before the bank director had fairly begun to tremble, the rotten mainsail of the Missisque was blown into ribbons, and the " flapping flitters " were streaming in the air. Piece after piece was detached from the bolt-rope, and disappeared in the heavy atmosphere. The sloop, in obedience to her helm, came about, and was now headed down the lake. The rain began to fall in torrents, and Mr. Randall was as uncomfortable as the director of a country bank could be.

" Go below, sir ! " shouted Captain John, to the unhappy man.

"Is it safe ? " asked Mr. Randall. " Safe enough."

" Won't she sink ?

" Sink ? no ; she can t sink," replied the skipper. " The wu'st on't 's over now."

Mr. Randall, encouraged by this candid statement of the situation, consented to go below, just as his dignified skin began to feel the cold moisture from the mountain clouds. Mrs. Captain John gave him a seat at her cooking-stove, and the chances were all in his favor, in spite of his gloomy forebodings.

The fury of the sguall was spent in a moment, and then the fury of Captain John began to gather, as he saw the remnants of the sail flapping at the gaft" and the boom. The Missisque and her caiga were safe, and not a single one of the precious lives of her crew had been sacrificed ; but the skipper was as dissatisfied as the skipper of a lake sloop could be ; more so, probably, than if the vessel had gone to the bottom, and left him clinging for life to a lone spar on the angry waters, for men are often more reasonable under great than under small misfortunes,

" Why didn't you let go that throat halyard ? " said he, angrily, as he walked forward to the part of the deck where the young pilot stood.

"I did," replied La wry, quietly — so quietly that it increased the fury of the skipper.

" You did ! What was the use of lettin' it go after the squall had split the sail ? Why didn't you do it sooner ? "

" I did it as soon as I saw the squall coming down on us."

" AVhy didn't you see it before then ? " growled Captain John.

" I told you the squall was coming half an hour ago, Captain John. Why didn't you come on deck, and attend to your vessel ? "

" Don't be sassy,*' said Captain John, in reply to this unanswerable argument.

" I'm not the skipper of this craft. If I had been, that sail would have been safe, I told you the squall was coming, and after that I did the best I could."

" You ain't good for nothin' 'board a vessel. I thought you knew enough to take in sail when you saw a squall comin'."

" I should have taken in sail long ago if I had thought the captain didn't know enough to come on deck when there was a squall coming up," replied Lawry, as he walked aft, disgusted with the conduct of the skipper.

" I don't want nothin' more of you."

" And I don't want anything more of you," added Lawry, smartly. " I've got almost home."

" What do you s'pose I"m goin' to do here, eighty mile from Whitehall, with the mainsail blowed clean out ? " snarled Captain John, as he followed Lawry.

" Mmd your vessel better than you have, I hope." " Don't be sassy, boy."

" You needn't growl at me because you neglected your duty. I did mine. I was casting off the halyards when the squall came."

" Why didn't you do it before ? That's what I want to know."

" I had no orders from the captain. Men on board a vessel don't take in sail till they are told to do so. When I saw the squall coming, half an hour ago, I let you know it ; that was all I had to do with it, if your old tub went to the bottom."

" I don't want you in this vessel ; you are too smart for me," continued Captain John, who could not combat the clinching argument of the youth.

" I'll leave her just as soon as we get to Port Kock," said Lawry, sitting down on the rail.

The rain ceased in a few moments, and the skipper ordered the jib, which had before been useless, to be set. At the invitation of Mrs. Captain John, Lawry went below and ate his dinner, to which he felt himself entitled, for he was working his passage up from Plattsburg. By the time he had disposed of the last piece of green-apple pie on board, the Missisque was before Port Eock, which was the home

THE YOUNG PILOT OF LAXE CHAMPLAIN. 23 of the young pilot, and he saw his father's ferry-boat at the shore as he came on deck.

" Will you put me ashore here, Captain John ? " asked Lawry.

" Yes, I will ; and I'm glad to get rid of you," replied the captain, testily.

" I think I will land here, also," added the bank director. " Now you have lost your sail, I'm afraid you won't get along very fast."

" I don't expect I shall. I shan't get to Shoreham tiU to-morrow morning with this wind. I'm sorry it happened so ; but that boy didn't mind what he was about."

" The captain didn't mind what he was about," added Lawry. " He needn't lay it to me, when it was all his own fault."

" I will cross the lake, and get a horse at Pointville, so that I shall be in Shoreham by five o'clock," continued the bank director, who was disposed to remain neutral between the contending parties.

Captain John ordered one of the men to pull Mr. Ilandall and Lawry ashore in tlic boat, and in a few minutes they were Imded at Port Rock.

Chapter II. The Port Hock Fekky

Lawrence Wileord was a full-fledged waterfowl. From his earliest childhood he had paddled in Lake Champlain. His father had a small place, consisting of ten acres of land with a small cottage ; but it was still encumbered with a mortgage, as it had been for twenty years, though the note had passed through several hands, and had been three times renewed. John Wilford was not a very sagacious nor a very energetic man, and had not distinguished himself in the race for wealth or for fame. He wanted to be rich, but he was not M'illing to pay the price of riches.

llh place was a short distance from the village of Port Eock, and John Wilford, at the time he had purchased the land and built his house, had established a ferry, whicli had been, and was still.

THE YOUNG PILOT OF LAKE CIIAMPLAIN. 25

his principal means of support ; for there was considerable travel between Port Rock and Pointville, on the Vermont side of the lake.

The ferryman was a poor man, and was likely to remain a poor man to the end of his life. Hardly a day passed in which he did not sigh to be rich, and complain of the unequal and unjust distribution of property. He could point to a score of men who had not worked half so hard as he had, in his own opinion, tliat had made fortunes, or at least won a competence, while he was as poor as ever, and in danger of having his place taken away from him. People said that John Wilford was lazy; that he did not make the most of his land, and that his ferry, with closer attention to the wants of passengers, might be made to pay double the amount he made from it. He permitted the weeds to grow in his garden, and compelled people to wait by the hour for a passage across tho lake.

John Wilford wondered that he coidd not grow rich, that he could not pay off the mortgage on his place. He seldom sat down to dinner without grumbling at his hard lot. His wife was a sensible wo- 3 man. She did not wonder that he did not grow rich ; only that he contrived to keep out of the poorhouse. She "was the muther of eight children, and if he had been half as smart as she was, prosperity would have smiled upon the family. As it was, her life was filled up with struggles to make the ends meet ; but, though she had the worst of it, she did not complain, and did all she could to comfort and encourage her thriftless husband.

The oldest son was as near like his father as one person could be like another. He was eighteen years old, and was an idle and dissolute fellow. Lawrence, the second son, inherited his mother's tact and energy. He was observing and enterprising, and had already made a good reputation as a boatman and pilot. He had worked in various capacities on board of steamers, canal boats, sloops, and schooners, and in five years had visited every part of the lake from AVhitehall to St. John's.

Speaking technically, his bump of locality was large, and he was as familiar with the navigation of the lake as any pilot on its waters. Indeed, he had occasionally served as a pilot on board steamers and other vessels, which had earned for him the name of the Young Pilot, by which he was often called. But his business was not piloting, for there was but little of this work to be done. Unlike his father, he was AviUing to do anything which would afford him a fair compensation, and in his five years of active life on the lake, he had been a pilot, a deck hand, a waiter, and a kitchen assistant on board steamers, and a sailor, helmsman, and cook on board other craft. He picked up considerable money, for a boy, by his enterprise, which, like a good son, with a clear apprehension of domestic circumstances, he gave to his mother. At the time of his introduction to the reader, Lawry had just piloted a canal boat, with movable masts, from Whitehall to Plattsburg, and was working his passage home on the Missisque.

" Captain John feels bad about the loss of his sail," said Mr. Randall, as the sloop's boat pulled off from the shore.

" Yes, he does ; but it was his own fault," replied Lawry. " He was paying too much attention to his dinner at the time."

" That's true ; he Avas very fond of the green-apple pies."

" Well, they were good," added the young pilot, stirred by pleasant memories of the viands. " I'm sorry he lost his sail."

" It wasn't worth much, though it was a bad time to lose it."

" He lost his temper, too. I wanted to land on the other side, but the captain was so cross I didn't like to ask him when we were so close to this shore. Your father is the ferryman, I believe."

" Yes, sir."

" Will you ask him to take me over ? "

" He's going right over in the large boat, for there's a team waiting for him," replied Lawry, pointing to a horse and wagon, the owner of which had sovmded the horn just as the passengers from the boat landed.

" Ask him to be as quick as possible, for I'm in a hurry," added the bank director.

"Won't you come into the house, sir?"

" No, I will sit down under this tree."

Lawry went into tlie house, where the familj were at dinner, the meal having been delayed by the absence of the ferryman on the other side of the lake. The youth was greeted rather coldly by his father, and very warmly by his mother.

" I'm glad you've got home, Lawry, for Mr. Sherwood has been after you three times," said Mrs. Wilford, when the young pilot had been duly welcomed by all the family.

"What does he want?" asked Lawry.

" His little steamboat is at Port Henry, and he wants you to go up and pilot her down."

"The Woodville?"

"Yes, that's her name, I believe."

" Well, I'm all ready to go."

" Sit down and eat your dinner."

" I've been to dinner."

" Mr. Sherwood wanted you to go up in the Sherman ; but it is too late for her, and he may go in the night boat."

" I'm ready when he is. Father, there is a gentleman outside who M'ants to go over the lake ; and there is a team waiting in the road," continued Lawry, turning to his father.

3*

" They must wait till I've done my dinner," re* plied the ferryman. " Who is the gentleman ? "

" Mr. Randall ; he is a director in a bank, and has six thousand dollars with him."

" I suppose so ; every man but me has six thousand dollars in his pocket. Where's he going to ? "

" To Shoreham, and he wants to get there by five " o'clock, if he can."

" What's he travelling with so much money for ? "

" I don't know. It is in his coat pocket, and it would have gone overboard if it hadn't been for me."

The ferryman finished his dinner in moody silence. He seemed to be thinking of the subject always uppermost in his mind, his thoughts stimulated, no doubt, by the fact that his expected passenger carried a large sum of money on his person.

" Mr. Randall, is in a hurry, father," interposed Lawry, when the ferryman had sat a good half hour after his son's arrival.

" He must wait till I get ready. He's got money, and I haven't ; but I'm just as good as he is. I don't know why I'm poor when so many men are rich.

But I'm going to be rich, somehow or other," said he, with more earnestness than he usually exhibited. " I'm too honest for my own good. I'm going to do as other men do ; and I shall wake up rich some morning, as they do. Then I shan't have to go when folks blow the horn. They'll be willing to wait for me then."

" Don't keep the gentleman waiting, father," added Mrs. Wilford.

" I'm going to be rich, somehow or other," continued the ferryman, still pursuing the exciting line of thought he had before taken up. " I'm going to be rich, by hook or by crook."

" This making haste to get rich ruins men sometimes, husband ; and haste makes wastes*. then."

" If I can only get rich, I'll risk being ruined, said John Wilford, as he rose from the table and put on his hat.

He looked m^ore moody and discontented than usual. Instead of hastening to do the work which was waiting for him, he stood before the window looking out into the garden. Mrs. Wilford told him the gentleman would be impatient, and he finally left the house, and walked down to the ferry-boat.

" I wonder what your father is thinking about," said Mrs. Wilford, as the door closed behind him.

" I don"t know," replied Lawry ; " he don't seem to be thinking that people won't wait forever for him. I guess I'll go up to Mr. Sherwood's, and see when he wants me."

" You must fix up a little before you go," added the prudent mother. " They are very grand people up at Mr. Sherwood's, and you must look as well as you can."

"I'll put on my best clothes," added Lawry, as he thought of the fine ladies he had seen at the great house.

In half an hour he had changed his dress, and looked like another boy. Mrs. Wilford adjusted a few stray locks of his hair, and as he put on his new straw hat, and left the house, her eye followed him with a feeling of motherly pride. He was. a good boy, and had the reputation of being a very smart boy, and she may be pardoned for the parental vanity with which she regarded him. While he visits the house of Mr. Sherwood, we will follow his father down to the ferry, where the bank director was impatiently waiting his appearance.

After the shower the sun had come out brightly, and the wind had abated so that there was hardly breeze enough to ruffle the waters of the lake. It was intensely warm, and Mr. Randall had taken off Ais coat again, but he was careful to keep it on his arm. At the approach of the ferryman ho went into the boat, where he was followed by the vehicle that had been waiting so long for a passage across the lake.

John Wilford pushed off the boat with a pole, and trimmed the sail, which was the motive power of the craft when there was any wind. The ferry-boat was a large bateau, or flat-boat, the slope at the ends being so gradual that a wagon could pass down over it to the bottom of the boat. This inclined plane was extended by a movable platform about six feet wide, which swung horizontally up and down, like a great trap-door. When the ferry-boat touched the shore, this platform was let doAvn upon the ground, forming a slope on which carriages were driven into and out of the bateau.

At each end of the platform there was a long lever, extending in-board ; and when the boat was ready to start, the ends of the levers were dropped down, and secured in large iron rings. The drop was thus elevated above the water, and on a level with it, making a platform on which the steersman stood, and worked a long, crooked oar, by which the course of the boat was controlled. The mast was fixed in the middle of one side of the boat, where it would not interfere with the standing room of vehicles. The sail was trimmed forward or aft of the mast, according to the direction the boat was to go.

Attached to the same side of the boat with the mast, one forward and one aft the sail, were two large elliptical pieces of plank, swinging on pivots at one end, which answered the purpose of a keel, when the boat was going on the wind, such as may be seen on the Dutch vessels on the Rhine and the Scheldt.

The wind was very light, and the clumsy craft moved very slowly — so slowly that the passage promised to be a severe trial to the patience of Mr. Ran-

THE YOUNG PILOT OF LAKE CHAMPEAIN. oO

dall, who hoped to reach Shoreham by five o'clock. He was not in a very amiable frame of mind ; he was angry at the delay in starting, and he was vexed because the wind would not blow. He walked nervously from the forward platform to the after one, with his coat still on his arm.