University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.

Our breakfast-table at—House was surrounded
by as motley a crew as Mirth ever owned. The
standing ornament of the upper end was a very large
light-blue crape turban, which turban surmounted the
prolonged face of a lady, somewhere (it is not polite to
be exact in these matters) between forty and fifty, and
also partly concealed a pair of ears from which depended
ear-rings whose pendants rested not far from the
Apalachian collar-bones of the dignified wearer. This
lady, turban and ear-rings, were always in their places
before the eggs came, and remained long after the last
one had disappeared—at least, I judge so; for I, who
always take my chance (rash enough in this case) for
a breakfast, never saw her seat vacant. Indeed, as I
never met her anywhere else, I might have supposed
her a fixture, the production of some American Maelzel,
but that the rolling of her very light grey eyes was
quite different from that of the dark Persian orbs of the
chess-player; while an occasional word came to my
ear with a sharp sound, even more startling than the
“Echec” of that celebrated personage.

Another very conspicuous member of our usual party
was a lady in mourning, whom I afterwards discovered
to be a great beauty. I had indeed observed that she
wore a great many curls, and that these curls were
carefully arranged and bound with a ribbon, so as to
make the most of a pair of dark eyes; that nothing
that could be called throat was ever enviously shaded,
even at breakfast; and that a pair of delicately white
hands, loaded with rings of all hues, despite the mourning
garments, were never out of sight. But I did not
learn that she was a beauty till I met her long after at a
brilliant evening party in rouge and blonde, and with
difficulty recognized my neighbour of the breakfast-table.

But if I should attempt to set down half my recollections
of that piquant and changeful scene, I should never
get on with my story: so, begging pardon, I will pass over
the young ladies, who never were hungry, and their
papas, who could never be satisfied, and their brothers,
who could not get any thing fit to eat; the crimson-faced
célibataire, who always ate exactly three eggs,
and three slices of bread and butter, and drank three
cups of tea, and then left the table, performing the
whole in perfect silence; the lady, who played good
mamma, and would ever have her two babies at the table
with her, aud feed them on sausage and strong
coffee, without a mouthful of bread; and the shoals of
speculators, fat and lean, rich and poor, young and old,
dashing and shabby, who always looked very hungry,
but could not take time to eat. I saw them only at
breakfast, for the rest of the day we usually spent elsewhere.

While we were awaiting the arrival of our chattels
from the east, Mr. Clavers accepted an invitation to
accompany a party of these breakfast-table companions
last mentioned, men of substance literally and figuratively,
who were going to make a tour with a view to
the purchase of one or two cities. Ponies, knapsacks,
brandy-bottles, pocket-compasses, blankets, lucifers,
great India rubber boots, coats of the same, and caps
with immense umbrella capes to them: these things
are but a beginning of the outfit necessary for such an
expedition. It was intended to “camp out” as often
as might be desirable, to think nothing of fasting for a
day or so, and to defy the ague and all its works by the
aid of the potent exorcisor contained in the bottles
above mentioned. One of the company, an idler from
—, was almost as keen in his pursuit of game as of
money, and he carried a double-barrelled fowling-piece,
with all things thereunto appertaining, in addition to
his other equipments, giving a finishing touch to the
grotesque cortége. My only parting charge to my
quota of the expedition was to keep out of the water,
and to take care of his spectacles. I should have cautioned
him against buying a city, but that he was never
very ambitious, and already owned Montacute. He
went merely pour se désennuyer; and I remained at the
very focus of this strange excitement an unconcerned
spectator, weary enough of the unvarying theme
which appeared to fill the whole soul of the community.

The party were absent just four days; and a more
dismal sight than they presented on their return cannot
well be imagined. Tired and dirty, cross and hungry,
were they all. No word of adventures, no boasting of

achievements, not even a breath of the talismanic word
“land,” more interesting to the speculator of 1835-6
than it ever was to the ship-wrecked mariner. They
seemed as if they would, Esau-like, have sold their
city lots for a good supper, though I doubt whether the
offer of a “trade” would not have aroused all their
energies, and so prevented the bargain.

After tea, however, things brightened a little: I
speak for one of the party only. The bath, the razor,
the much needed change of those “lendings” on which
so much of the comfort of life depends, produced their
usual humanizing effect; and by questions skilfully
timed and cautiously worded, I drew from my toil-worn
spouse a tolerably circumstantial account of the journey.

The first day had been entirely consumed in reaching
Shark River, or rather its junction with another considerable
stream. Twilight had already shaded the
woody path, when the surveyor, who was acquainted
with the whole region, informed them that they had yet
some miles of travel before they could hope to reach any
kind of shelter. They had been for some hours following
an Indian trail, and some of the city gentlemen
recollecting, as the day declined, that they were a little
rheumatic, began to give vent to their opinion that the
evening was going to be particularly damp. One went
so far as to hint that it would have been as well if
Mr.—(the sportsman) had not taken quite so
long to ascertain whether that white moving thing he
had seen in the woods was a deer's tail or not.

To this the city Nimrod had replied, that as to its
being a deer's tail, there was no possibility of question;

that if the other gentlemen had been a little more patient,
they might have had venison for supper; and
this little discussion, growing more and more animated
as it proceeded, at length occupied the attention of the
whole party so completely, that they lost the trail and
found themselves at the end of what had seemed to
them an open path. There was nothing for it, but to
turn the horses' heads right about, and retrace the last
mile or more, while the faint gleam of daylight was fast
disappearing.

The good humour of the party was, to say the least,
not increased by this little contretemps, and the following
of a trail by star-light is an exercise of skill and patience
not likely to be long agreeable to gentlemen who
have been for many years accumstomed to pavements
and gas-lamps. Not a word was said of “camping out,”
so manfully planned in the morning. The loads of preparations
for a bivouac seemed entirely forgotten by
every body—at least, no one thought proper to mention
them; and after some few attempts of the younger
members to be funny, the whole caravan yielded to fate,
and plodded on in gloomy and determined silence.

The glimmer of a distant light had an electrical
effect. The unlucky sportsman was fortunately in the
van, and so had an opportunity of covering up his
offences by being the announcer of joyous tidings.

He sang out cheerily, “So shines a good deed in this
naughty world!” and pricked on his tired Canadian
into something akin to a trot, while the soberer part of
the cavalcade followed as fast as they could, or as they
dared. Ere long they reached the much desired shelter,
and found that their provident care in regard to the

various items requisite for food and lodging had not been
in vain.

The log cabin which received the weary way-farers
was like many others which have served for the first
homes of settlers in Michigan. It was logs and nothing
else, the fire made on the ground, or on a few
loose stones, and a hole in the roof for the escape of the
smoke. A family of tolerably decent appearance inhabited
this forlorn dwelling, a man and his wife and two
young children. They seemed little moved at the arrival
of so large a company, but rendered what assistance
they could in providing for the ponies and preparing
the meal from such materials as were afforded by
the well-stored hampers of the baggage pony.

After the conclusion of the meal, the blankets were
spread on the ground, and happy he who could get a
bag for a pillow. But the night's rest was well earned,
and Nature is no niggard paymaster.