"Well," sais I, "Domine Doctor, that doctrine of implicit obedience to the government won't hold water neither, otherwise, if you had lived in Cromwell's time, you would have to have a.s.sisted in cutting the king's head off, or fight in an unjust war, or a thousand other wicked but legal things. I believe every tub must stand on its own bottom; general rules won't do. Take each separate, and judge of it by itself."

"Exactly," sais the doctor; "try that in law and see how it would work. No two cases would be decided alike; you'd be adrift at once, and a drifting ship soon touches bottom. No, that won't hold water.

Stick to general principles, and if a thing is an exception to the rule, put it in Schedule A or B, and you know where to look for it.

General rules are fixed principles. But you are only talking for talk sake; I know you are. Do you think now that merchant did right to aid you in evading the duty on your leaden Washingtons?"

"What the plague had he to do with our revenue laws? They don't bind him," sais I.

"No," said the doctor, "but there is a higher law than the statutes of the States or of England either, and that is the moral law. In aiding you, he made the greatest sale of lead ever effected at once in England; the profit on that was his share of the smuggling. But you are only drawing me out to see what I am made of. You are an awful man for a bam. There goes old Lewis in his fishing boat," sais he. "Look at him shaking his fist at you. Do you hear him jabbering away about trying it out in the 'sperm court?'"

"I'll make him draw his fist in, I know," sais I. So I seized my rifle, and stepped behind the mast, so that he could not see me; and as a large grey gull was pa.s.sing over his boat high up in the air, I fired, and down it fell on the old c.o.o.n's head so heavily and so suddenly, he thought he was shot; and he and the others set up a yell of fright and terror that made everybody on board of the little fleet of coasters that were anch.o.r.ed round us, combine in three of the heartiest, merriest, and loudest cheers I ever heard.

"Try that out in the sperm court, you old bull-frog," sais I. "I guess there is more ile to be found in that fishy gentleman than in me.

Well," sais I, "Doctor, to get back to what we was a talking of. It's a tight squeeze sometimes to scrouge between a lie and a truth in business, ain't it? The pa.s.sage is so narrow, if you don't take care it will rip your trowser b.u.t.tons off in spite of you. Fortunately I am thin, and can do it like an eel, squirmey fashion; but a stout, awkward fellow is most sure to be catched.

"I shall never forget a rise I once took out of a set of jockeys at Albany. I had an everlastin' fast Naraganset pacer once to Slickville, one that I purchased in Mandarin's place. I was considerable proud of him, I do a.s.sure you, for he took the rag off the bush in great style.

Well, our stable-help, Pat Monaghan (him I used to call Mr Monaghan), would stuff him with fresh clover without me knowing it, and as sure as rates, I broke his wind in driving him too fast. It gave him the heaves, that is, it made his flanks heave like a blacksmith's bellows.

We call it 'heaves,' Britishers call it 'broken wind.' Well, there is no cure for it, though some folks tell you a hornet's nest cut up fine and put in their meal will do it, and others say sift the oats clean and give them juniper berries in it, and that will do it, or ground ginger, or tar, or what not; but these are all quackeries. You can't cure it, for it's a ruption of an air vessel, and you can't get at it to sew it up. But you can fix it up by diet and care, and proper usage, so that you can deceive even an old hand, providin' you don't let him ride or drive the beast too fast.

"Well, I doctored and worked with him so, the most that could be perceived was a slight cold, nothin' to mind, much less frighten you.

And when I got him up to the notch, I advertised him for sale, as belonging to a person going down east, who only parted with him because he thought him too heavey for a man who never travelled less than a mile in two minutes and twenty seconds. Well, he was sold at auction, and knocked down to Rip Van Dam, the Attorney-General, for five hundred dollars; and the owner put a saddle and bridle on him, and took a bet of two hundred dollars with me, he could do a mile in two minutes, fifty seconds. He didn't know me from Adam parsonally, at the time, but he had heard of me, and bought the horse because it was said Sam Slick owned him.

"Well, he started off, and lost his bet; for when he got near the winnin'-post the horse choked, fell, and pitched the rider off half-way to Troy, and nearly died himself. The umpire handed me the money, and I dug out for the steam-boat intendin' to pull foot for home. Just as I reached the wharf, I heard my name called out, but I didn't let on I noticed it, and walked a-head. Presently, Van Dam seized me by the shoulder, quite out of breath, puffin' and blowin'

like a porpoise.

"'Mr Slick?' said he.

"'Yes,' sais I, 'what's left of me; but good gracious,' sais I, 'you have got the 'heaves.' I hope it ain't catchin'.'

"'No I haven't,' said he, 'but your cussed hoss has, and nearly broke my neck. You are like all the Connecticut men I ever see, a nasty, mean, long-necked, long-legged, narrow-chested, slab-sided, narrow-souled, lantern-jawed, Yankee cheat.'

"'Well,' sais I, 'that's a considerable of a long name to write on the back of a letter, ain't it? It ain't good to use such a swad of words, it's no wonder you have the heaves; but I'll cure you; I warn't brought up to wranglin'; I hain't time to fight you, and besides,'

said I, 'you are broken-winded; but I'll chuck you over the wharf into the river to cool you, boots and all, by gravy.'

"'Didn't you advertise,' said he, 'that the only reason you had to part with that horse was, that he was too heavy for a man who never travelled slower than a mile in two minutes and twenty seconds?'

"'Never!' sais I, 'I never said such a word. What will you bet I did?'

"'Fifty dollars,' said he.

"'Done,' said I. 'And, Vanderbelt--(he was just going on board the steamer at the time)--Vanderbelt,' sais I, 'hold these stakes.

Friend,' sais I, 'I won't say you lie, but you talk uncommonly like the way I do when I lie. Now prove it.'

"And he pulled out one of my printed advertis.e.m.e.nts, and said, 'Read that.'

"Well, I read it. 'It ain't there,' said I.

"'Ain't it?' said he. 'I leave it to Vanderbelt.'

"'Mr Slick,' said he, 'you have lost--it is here.'

"'Will you bet fifty dollars,' said I, 'though you have seen it, that it's there?'

"'Yes,' said he, 'I will.'

"'Done,' said I. 'Now how do you spell heavy?'

"'H-e-a-v-y,' said he.

"'Exactly,' sais I; 'so do I. But this is spelt heav-ey. I did it on purpose. I scorn to take a man in about a horse, so I published his defect to all the world. I said he was too heavey for harness, and so he is. He ain't worth fifty dollars--I wouldn't take him as a gift--he ain't worth von dam?'

"'Well, I did see that,' said he, 'but I thought it was an error of the press, or that the owner couldn't spell.'

"'Oh!' sais I, 'don't take me for one of your Dutch boors, I beg of you. I can spell, but you can't read, that's all. You remind me,' sais I, 'of a feller in Slickville when the six-cent letter stamps came in fashion. He licked the stamp so hard, he took all the gum off, and it wouldn't stay on, no how he could fix it, so what does he do but put a pin through it, and writes on the letter, "Paid, if the darned thing will only stick." Now, if you go and lick the stamp etarnally that way, folks will put a pin through it, and the story will stick to you for ever and ever. But come on board, and let's liquor, and I will stand treat.'

"I felt sorry for the poor critter, and I told him how to feed the horse, and advised him to take him to Saratoga, advertise him, and sell him the same way; and he did, and got rid of him. The rise raised his character as a lawyer amazing. He was elected governor next year; a sell like that is the making of a lawyer.

"Now I don't call the lead Washingtons nor the heavey horse either on 'em a case of cheat; but I do think a man ought to know how to read a law and how to read an advertis.e.m.e.nt, don't you? But come, let us go ash.o.r.e, and see how the galls look, for you have raised my curiosity."

We accordingly had the boat lowered; and taking Sorrow with us to see if he could do anything in the catering line, the doctor, Cutler, and myself landed on the beach, and walked round the settlement.

The sh.o.r.e was covered with fish flakes, which sent up an aroma not the most agreeable in the world except to those who lived there, and they, I do suppose, snuff up the breeze as if it was loaded with wealth and smelt of the Gold Coast. But this was nothing (although I don't think I can ever eat dum fish again as long as I live) to the effluvia arising from decomposed heaps of sea-wood, which had been gathered for manure, and was in the act of removal to the fields. No words can describe this, and I leave it to your imagination, Squire, to form an idea of a new perfume in nastiness that has never yet been appreciated but by an Irishman.

I heard a Paddy once, at Halifax, describe the wreck of a carriage which had been dashed to pieces. He said there was not "a smell of it left." Poor fellow, he must have landed at Chesencook, and removed one of those oloriferous heaps, as Sorrow called them, and borrowed the metaphor from it, that there was not "a smell of it left." On the beach between the "flakes" and the water, were smaller heaps of the garbage of the cod-fish and mackarel, on which the grey and white gulls fought, screamed, and gorged themselves, while on the bar were the remains of several enormous black fish, half the size of whales, which had been driven on sh.o.r.e, and hauled up out of the reach of the waves by strong ox teams. The heads and livers of these huge monsters had been "tried out in the Sperm court" for ile, and the putrid remains of the carca.s.s were disputed for by pigs and crows. The discordant noises of these hungry birds and beasts were perfectly deafening.

On the right-hand side of the harbour, boys and girls waded out on the flats to dig clams, and were a.s.sailed on all sides by the screams of wild fowl who resented the invasion of their territory, and were replied to in tones no less shrill and unintelligible. On the left was the wreck of a large ship, which had perished on the coast, and left its ribs and skeleton to bleach on the sh.o.r.e, as if it had failed in the vain attempt to reach the forest from which it had sprung, and to repose in death in its native valley. From one of its masts, a long, loose, solitary shroud was pendant, having at its end a large double block attached to it, on which a boy was seated, and swung backward and forward. He was a little saucy urchin, of about twelve years of age, dressed in striped homespun, and had on his head a red yarn clackmutch, that resembled a cap of liberty. He seemed quite happy, and sung a verse of a French song with an air of conscious pride and defiance as his mother, stick in hand, stood before him, and at the top of her voice now threatened him with the rod, his father, and the priest--and then treacherously coaxed him with a promise to take him to Halifax, where he should see the great chapel, hear the big bell, and look at the bishop. A group of little girls stared in amazement at his courage, but trembled when they heard his mother predict a broken neck--purgatory--and the devil as his portion. The dog was as excited as the boy--he didn't bark, but he whimpered as he gazed upon him, as if he would like to jump up and be with him, or to a.s.sure him he would catch him if he fell, if he had but the power to do so.

What a picture it was--the huge wreck of that that once "walked the waters as a thing of life"--the merry boy--the anxious mother--the trembling sisters--the affectionate dog; what bits of church-yard scenes were here combined--children playing on the tombs--the young and the old--the merry and the aching heart--the living among the dead. Far beyond this were tall figures wading in the water, and seeking their food in the shallows; cranes, who felt the impunity that the superst.i.tion of the simple habitans had extended to them, and sought their daily meal in peace.

Above the beach and parallel with it, ran a main road, on the upper side of which were the houses, and on a swelling mound behind them rose the spire of the chapel visible far off in the Atlantic, a sacred signal-post for the guidance of the poor coaster. As soon as you reach this street or road and look around you, you feel at once you are in a foreign country and a land of strangers. The people, their dress, and their language, the houses, their form and appearance, the implements of husbandry, their shape and construction--all that you hear and see is unlike anything else. It is neither above, beyond, or behind the age. It is the world before the Flood. I have sketched it for you, and I think without bragging I may say I can take things off to the life.

Once I drawed a mutton chop so nateral, my dog broke his teeth in tearing the panel to pieces to get at it; and at another time I painted a shingle so like stone, when I threw it into the water, it sunk right kerlash to the bottom.

"Oh, Mr Slick," said the doctor, "let me get away from here. I can't bear the sight of the sea-coast, and above all, of this offensive place. Let us get into the woods where we can enjoy ourselves. You have never witnessed what I have lately, and I trust in G.o.d you never will. I have seen within this month two hundred dead bodies on a beach in every possible shape of disfiguration and decomposition--mangled, mutilated, and dismembered corpses; male and female, old and young, the prey of fishes, birds, beasts, and, what is worse, of human beings. The wrecker had been there--whether he was of your country or mine I know not, but I fervently hope he belonged to neither. Oh, I have never slept sound since. The screams of the birds terrify me, and yet what do they do but follow the instincts of their nature? They batten on the dead, and if they do feed on the living, G.o.d has given them animated beings for their sustenance, as, he has the fowls of the air, the fishes of the sea, and the beasts of the field to us, but they feed not on each other. Man, man alone is a cannibal. What an awful word that is!"

"Exactly," sais I, "for he is then below the canine species--'dog won't eat dog.'1 The wrecker lives not on those who die, but on those whom he slays. The pirate has courage at least to boast of, he risks his life to rob the ship, but the other attacks the helpless and unarmed, and spares neither age nor s.e.x in his thirst for plunder. I don't mean to say we are worse on this side of the Atlantic than the other, G.o.d forbid. I believe we are better, for the American people are a kind, a feeling, and a humane race. But avarice hardens the heart, and distress, when it comes in a ma.s.s, overpowers pity for the individual, while inability to aid a mult.i.tude induces a carelessness to a.s.sist any. A whole community will rush to the rescue of a drowning man, not because his purse can enrich them all (that is too dark a view of human nature), but because he is the sole object of interest.

When there are hundreds struggling for life, few of whom can be saved, and when some wretches are solely bent on booty, the rest, regardless of duty, rush in for their share also, and the ship and her cargo attract all. When the wreck is plundered, the transition to rifling the dying and the dead is not difficult, and cupidity, when once sharpened by success, brooks no resistance, for the remonstrance of conscience is easily silenced where supplication is not even heard.

Avarice benumbs the feelings, and when the heart is hardened, man becomes a mere beast of prey. Oh this scene afflicts me--let us move on. These poor people have never yet been suspected of such atrocities, and surely they were not perpetrated in the world before the Flood."

1 This homely adage is far more expressive than the Latin one:--

"Parcit Cognates maculis, similis fera."--Juv.

CHAPTER XVII.

LOST AT SEA.