59. CHAPTER LIX.
Dozing in our canoe the next morning about daybreak, we
were wakened by Zeke's hailing us loudly from the beach.
Upon paddling up, he told us that a canoe had arrived overnight,
from Papeetee, with an order from a ship lying there, for
a supply of his potatoes; and as they must be on board the vessel
by noon, he wanted us to assist in bringing them down to
his sail-boat.
My long comrade was one of those, who, from always thrusting
forth the wrong foot foremost when they rise, or committing
some other indiscretion of the limbs, are more or less crabbed
or sullen before breakfast. It was in vain, therefore, that the
Yankee deplored the urgency of the case, which obliged him
to call us up thus early:—the doctor only looked the more
glum, and said nothing in reply.
At last, by way of getting up a little enthusiasm for the occasion,
the Yankee exclaimed quite spiritedly, “What d'ye say,
then, b'ys, shall we git at it?”
“Yes, in the devil's name!” replied the doctor, like a snapping
turtle; and we moved on to the house. Notwithstanding
his ungracious answer, he probably thought that after the gastronomic
performance of the day previous, it would hardly do
to hang back. At the house, we found Shorty ready with the
hoes; and we at once repaired to the farther side of the inclosure,
where the potatoes had yet to be taken out of the
ground.
The rich, tawny soil seemed specially adapted to the crop;
the great yellow murphies rolling out of the hills like eggs from
a nest.
My comrade really surprised me by the zeal with which he
applied himself to his hoe. For my own part, exhilarated by
the cool breath of the morning, I worked away like a good
fellow. As for Zeke and the Cockney, they seemed mightily
pleased at this evidence of our willingness to exert ourselves.
It was not long ere all the potatoes were turned out; and then
came the worst of it: they were to be lugged down to the
beach, a distance of at least a quarter of a mile. And there
being no such thing as a barrow, or cart, on the island, there
was nothing for it but spinal-marrows and broad shoulders.
Well knowing that this part of the business would be any thing
but agreeable, Zeke did his best to put as encouraging a face
upon it as possible; and giving us no time to indulge in desponding
thoughts, gleefully directed our attention to a pile of
rude baskets—made of stout stalks—which had been provided
for the occasion. So, without more ado, we helped ourselves
from the heap; and soon we were all four staggering along under
our loads.
The first trip down, we arrived at the beach together: Zeke's
enthusiastic cries proving irresistible. A trip or two more,
however, and my shoulders began to grate in their sockets;
while the doctor's tall figure acquired an obvious stoop. Presently,
we both threw down our baskets, protesting we could
stand it no longer. But our employers, bent, as it were, upon
getting the work out of us by a silent appeal to our moral
sense, toiled away without pretending to notice us. It was as
much as to say, “There, men, we've been boarding and lodging
ye for the last three days; and yesterday ye did nothing
earthly but eat; so stand by now, and look at us working, if
ye dare.” Thus driven to it, then, we resumed our employment.
Yet, in spite of all we could do, we lagged behind
Zeke and Shorty, who, breathing hard, and perspiring at every
pore, toiled away without pause or cessation. I almost wickedly
wished, that they would load themselves down with one
potato too many.
Gasping as I was with my own hamper, I could not, for the
life of me, help laughing at Long Ghost. There he went:—
his long neck thrust forward, his arms twisted behind him to
form a shelf for his basket to rest on; and his stilts of legs every
once in a while giving way under him, as if his knee-joints slipped
either way.
“There! I carry no more!” he exclaimed all at once, flinging
his potatoes into the boat, where the Yankee was just then stowing
them away.
“Oh, then,” said Zeke, quite briskly, “I guess you and Paul
had better try the `barrel-machine'—come along, I'll fix ye out
in no time;” and, so saying, he waded ashore, and hurried
back to the house, bidding us follow.
Wondering what upon earth the “barrel-machine” could be,
and rather suspicious of it, we limped after. On arriving at the
house, we found him getting ready a sort of sedan-chair. It
was nothing more than an old barrel, suspended by a rope from
the middle of a stout oar. Quite an ingenious contrivance of
the Yankee's; and his proposed arrangement with regard to
mine and the doctor's shoulders, was equally so.
“There now!” said he, when every thing was ready, “there's
no back-breaking about this; you can stand right up under it,
you see: jist try it once;” and he politely rested the blade of
the oar on my comrade's right shoulder, and the other end on
mine, leaving the barrel between us.
“Jist the thing!” he added, standing off admiringly, while we
remained in this interesting attitude.
There was no help for us; with broken hearts and backs we
trudged back to the field; the doctor all the while saying
masses.
Upon starting with the loaded barrel, for a few paces we got
along pretty well, and were constrained to think the idea not a
bad one. But we did not long think so. In less than five minutes
we came to a dead halt, the springing and buckling of the
clumsy oar being almost unendurable.
“Let's shift ends,” cried the doctor, who did not quite relish
the blade of the stick, which was cutting into the blade of his
shoulder.
At last, by stages short and frequent, we managed to shamble
down to the beach, where we again dumped our cargo, in
something of a pet.
“Why not make the natives help?” asked Long Ghost, rubbing
his shoulder.
“Natives be dumned!” said the Yankee, “twenty on 'em
ain't worth one white man. They never was meant to work
any, them chaps; and they knows it, too, for dumned little work
any on 'em ever does.”
But notwithstanding this abuse, Zeke was at last obliged to
press a few of the bipeds into service. “Aramai!” (come here)
he shouted to several, who, reclining on a bank, had hitherto
been critical observers of our proceedings; and, among other
things, had been particularly amused by the performance with
the sedan-chair.
After making these fellows load their baskets together, the
Yankee filled his own, and then drove them before him, down
to the beach. Probably he had seen the herds of panniered
mules, driven in this way by mounted Indians, along the great
road from Callao to Lima.
The boat at last loaded, the Yankee, taking with him a couple
of natives, at once hoisted sail, and stood across the channel for
Papeetee.
The next morning at breakfast, old Tonoi ran in, and told us
that the voyagers were returning. We hurried down to the
beach, and saw the boat gliding toward us, with a dozing
islander at the helm, and Zeke standing up in the bows, jingling
a small bag of silver, the proceeds of his cargo.
