University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
The Young Fisher.

The young maiden who had suddenly
formed, as we have seen, some resolution
in her mind to do something for the
safety of the endangered ship, left the
verge of the cliff where she had been
standing, and began rapidly to descend
the path-way to the water.

`Follow me, Tom,' she cried, as she
darted towards the beach.

`Where are you going, May?' cried
the dwarf, as he bounded after her. `Tell
me what you want of Tom.'

`I want you to go with me and pull
the skiff. I am going to George Hunnewell's.'

`Georgy has got a broken arm, May.'

`Do I not know that, Tom?' she answered
as she bounded lightly into a
small skiff which was fastened to a stake,
which belonged to, and was used to go to
and from the little craft at anchor a few
yards off the beach.

`Yes, you ought to know it, for you
cried when father told you how he'd been
dashed against a rock when the fishing-schooner
was wracked, and so smashed
it. What are you going over to see
Georgy for? Didn't you tell him, for I
heard you, when he was last here, that
you could never love him? But I knows
it was because he had said something
about father you didn't like. Touch father,
and its touch May.'

`I can't talk with you now,' answered
he maiden, blushing. `I am going to see
George. I want you to row me there.'

`That I'll do, sister May, because
Georgy like me. He never calls me
dwarf. He loves you too, for he always
talks about you, and said if he could
make you love him he should be the
happiest fisherman in all the coast. Why
don't you love him, May?'

`Don't ask foolish questions, Tom.—
Take your oars. There: cast off. Now
pull hard and strong. We have not a
moment to lose.'

`But I'm afraid that storm 'll come up
before we get there.'

`Not if you pull hard,' she answered,
as she shoved off the skiff with a boat-hook,
and turned it prow down the bay.

Tom, without saying a word, and accustomed
implicitly to obey his sister,
immediately sat down, and taking his
oars, placed them in the row-locks, and
began to bend his broad back vigorously
to his task. May sat in the stern with a
paddle, guiding the boat on her course.

`You are not going straight across,
May?'

`Straight across, Tom,' she answered
with a resolute air.

`If the storm meets us we are gone to
bottom.'

`It wont meet us,` she responded,
glancing at the tempest-cloud, which
was already flinging out its ashy banners
from the edge of the black mass, far
across the zenith. `By the way it has
been coming on for the last half hour, it
will be full half an hour before it bursts.
It is but a mile and a half to George's
cabin.'

`I begin to guess something.'

`What?'

`That you'll be going out to the
frigate.'

`No, I am not.'

`Well, if you was, I wouldn't row another
pull, if you should beat me with
the boat-hook. No, no! Tom is a fool;
but Tom loves May too well to let her
drown in the black waves.'

`I am going only to George's. Pull!
Do not delay!'

`Then I'll pull, and hard too,' he answered,
as he once more bent to the
oars.

The little skiff seemed to be cutting
its way across the surface of a sea of ink
—so black was the reflection of the sky
upon it. Its wake lay like the the whitest
snow far astern. It shot across the bay
like an arrow, and approaching the base
of the cliff-head, on which stood the tall,
scathed, white pine, looking like a spirit
of the storm, with its arms outstretched,
beckoning on and marshalling the hosts
of the tempest.

`That old white tree looks like a monstrous
live woman, May. How it glistens!'

`It is because the clouds are so dark
which it is relieved against. It has a terrific
appearance in this murky gloom.—
But heed it not. Pull hard and strong
till you get round the rock, and then we
shall have but a short distance to go to
reach George's.

The skiff passed out of the entrance to
the enclosed bay and going round the
promontory of the Scathed Pine, where
the under-sea billows began already to
swell in anticipation of the wild surges
that promised soon to lash the deep,
opened upon a shallow inlet half shut in
by a ledge and reef, upon which the
swell had begun to rise and break into
white caps, though there was no wind
upon the ocean, and a fearful stillness
reigned in the heavens, which were in
fierce and rapid motion from the south
west. As soon as the two adventurous
occupants of the skiff had got out of the
bay and pulled round the head of the
cliff, they entered the lesser bay; and,
after passing inside of the reef that nearly
barred entrance to it, they came in sight
of two fishermen's huts, nestled in a rocky
nook close to the shore. Their situation
was wild and romantic. Not a green
tree, not a vestige of soil or sward was in
their vicinity. As the skiff rapidly approached
the shore, a rocky natural stair
was visible by which it could be reached
from the cove; and at the foot of the
stair were two skiffs, one containing a
mast and sail; the other was drawn up
a little ways upon a flat rock which was
covered with sea-weed.

There was a short distance to the left
of the landing the wreck of a vessel of
sixty tons, nearly stripped to its ribs, and
over-grown with richen and barnacles.
A net was dragging upon the rocks; and
upon the end of a spar which projected
from a crevice in the cliff over the water,
about six six feet above it, sat an old woman
in coarse apparel, bare feet and
arms, with grey locks falling wildly over
her brow and about her brawny shoulders.
She was smoking a short pipe, and
engaged in repairing an old sail with a
seaman's thimble lashed upon her palm.
Her features were sunburned, harsh and
repulsive. She seemed to have an habitually
savage aspect, as if she loved no
one, but rather hated all of her kind.—
She had been keenly watching the approach
of the skiff since it first hove in
sight around the spur of the promontory,
at intervals muttering to herself:

`That fool, Tom Northrop and his
cream-faced sister! I wish the storm
would come up with 'em. What do they
want coming here? No good, I'll warrant
me. She is a witch and no better;
for she has bewitched my boy. He is
good for nothing now since he was last
over to their place; and does nothing
but talk of May Fawn! I'll send her
back ere she shall see him!'

She would then take a few stitches in
her old sail, and then as her small grey
eyes wandered over the sea, they would
fall on the frigate, about four miles distant,
which continued still to fire her signal
guns.

`Ah, fire away, Englishmen. There
is no harm done to any of us by such
kind o' powder-burnin'. You find yourself
in a bright o' the land and know that
when the wind begins to make the sea
up you'll have to run in under the land,
or go upon the rocks. There's no getting
to windward with the tide flowing
and the wind, as it is like to be dead
agen ye! — How that strong-backed
dwarf pulls an oar. He makes the skiff
dance along as if it was alive! I wonder
what they want here! I hope George
'll not get home afore they 've got what
they want and are back where they came
from. There is lightning, and sharp, too!'

The appearance of the heavens now
was truly terrific. The cloud which an
hour ago had been no bigger than `a
man's hand,' had expanded till it covered
two thirds of the sky; and was still rolling
eastward to envelope in its inky
veil the strip of horizon where still was
visible the deep blue expanse. The shadow
upon the sea was like night-fall; and
from its gloom appeared the frigate with
its two white strips of canvass shining
almost with phosphorescent brightness.
The shades of the sea were lighted up
by the light of the continual cannonade
from her deck, while the deep peal of the
report resounding among the cliffs of the
main, awakened feelings of solemn awe
in the mind not only of May Fawn as she
sat at her little helm, guiding the bark in
which she had so adventurously launched,
but also in that of a young fisherman
who had been for some moments watching
the frigate from an opening in the
cliff, not far from the two huts we have
seen perched mid-way the precipice.

He was about two and twenty years of
age, of good height, and finely moulded
person. His complexion was clear and
somewhat pale, as if from illness; but
his eye had lost none of its fire, nor the
expression of his face any of its native
decision. Altogether, his countenance
was handsome, and singularly prepossessing.
He was dressed in grey trousers,
fisher's half-boots, and a sort of woollen
blue frock, without button or button hole,
secured to his waist by a leathern belt.
His brown locks were covered by an old
straw hat, turned back from the brow
with a bold air.

He wore his left arm in a sling, and
upon his rightshoulder, he carried a rusty,
well-worn gun, at the extremity of which
dangled a bunch of snipes and sand-birds.
He had been out upon the beach
for the last two hours shooting, as an old
fisherman who lived in a neighbouring
hut, had recommended bird's-flesh for
wounded persons, in preference to fish,
the usual sustenance of those in health,
who dwelt on that coast. The young
fisherman, had therefore, taken his gun
and gone out to shoot his own supper,
about three hours before sun-set. He
had walked slowly and stopped often, as
his wounded arm still kept him weak;
and although two months had elapsed
since he crushed it in being wrecked in
Old Northrop's shallop, it had not yet
healed. Had not the birds been very
plenty and very tame, he would hardly
have been able to take any game; but
as he could rest his gun upon the shoulder
of an old negro who accompanied
him, and fire among flocks of them, he
was thus enabled, though with but one
arm in use, to do considerable execution.

He was about a mile from his cabin
up the coast, when he heard the first
gun fired by the frigate. He was a little
ways back from the shore, when the report
reached his ears; and he hastened

to the sea-side to learn its cause. He
saw the frigate laying, becalmed, directly
opposite the place where he stood. At
first he did not understand the object of
the signals; but on turning his head
westward, he beheld the expanding cloud,
and the storm haze that was veiling the
sun's disc. A few seconds observation
showed him at once the perilous position
of the ship, and he was at no loss to conjecture
the cause of the guns.

`Buttermilk,' he said, addressing the
negro, who was looking over his shoulder.

`Massa Jorge,' responded the black,
who was a fat, oily, paunch-bellied African
Falstaff, who looked as if he had
lived on train-oil and turtles all his life.

`That frigate is English.'

`Yiss. I know dat widout him color;
but I see him color 'stinctly.'

`I see it now flash out broadly red. It
is English, and therefore, an enemy.—
Do you see his danger when it begins to
blow?'

`If he don't walk out o' dat afore dat
storm walk up, he'll hab to walk down
to Davy Jones. Dem's my pinion, mass
Jorge!'

`He would, no doubt, be glad enough
to get out of the place he is in. He is
fairly embarged. But he cant move a
fathom till the storm strikes him, and
then it is sure to drive him on the rocks,
unless he has a pilot who knows the
coast well.'

`Pr'aps he hab, massa Jorge,' remarked
Mr. Buttermilk, rubbing his grey wool
on the top of his forehead where he had,
by this habit, nearly rubbed a bald spot
as big as a dollar.

`Then what is this firing for? He is
making signals for a pilot to come off to
him; for he well knows he will want
one ere long.'

`Dere no pilot in dese parts, massa
Jorge,' said Buttermilk, looking as if
wondering at the idea; `dere no big city
here for 'em pilot to sail a ship in.'

`He don't expect a regular pilot, Buttermilk;
he is firing in hopes some of
we fishermen will go out to him.'

`Vah, yaw! I see 'em now. Him
spose he get some ob us, eh? I guess
he hab to pay! Spose we go and pull
out to him, massa Jorge, and ax him.—
Praps he gib you plenty money to pilot
him into Nortorop's bay.'

`Do you think me a traitor to my country,
'milk?' cried the young man, with
flashing eyes. `No, no. If Providence
aid our cause by wrecking a powerful
ship of the enemy, so be it. I shall not
save it from its fate! Come, let us homeward.

They now moved along the shore,
sometimes by a path winding inland
round evergreen woods, and othertimes
close to the pebbly shore. At length they
came once more upon a commanding
eminence, where the young man stopped
both to rest, and to admire the sublimity
of the gathering tempest; its effect increased
by the regular firing every minute
of the ship's cannon.