"I'm not a _man_" said the sailor.
"What are you?" said Marco.
"I'm a boy. I'm only nineteen years old; though I'm going to be rated
seaman next voyage."
"Have you just got back from a voyage?" asked Marco.
"Yes," said the sailor. "I've been round the Horn in a whaler, from
old Nantuck. And now I'm going home to see my mother."
"How long since you've seen her?" asked Marco.
"O, it's four years since I ran away."
Here the sailor began to speak in rather a lower tone than he had done
before, so that Marco only could hear. This was not difficult, as the
other passengers were at this time engaged in conversation.
"I ran away," continued the sailor, "and went to sea about four years
ago."
"What made you run away?" asked Marco.
"O, I didn't want to stay at home and be abused. My father used to
abuse me; but my mother took my part, and now I want to go and see
her."
"And to see your father too," said Marco.
"No," said the sailor. "I don't care for him. I hope he's gone off
somewhere. But I want to see my mother. I have got a shawl for her in
my chest."
Marco was shocked to hear a young man speak in such a manner of his
father. Still there was something in the frankness and openness of the
sailor's manner, which pleased him very much. He liked to hear his odd
and sailor-like language too, and he accordingly entered into a
long conversation with him. The sailor gave him an account of his
adventures on the voyage; how he was drawn off from the ship one day,
several miles, by a whale which they had harpooned; - how they caught
a shark, and hauled him in on deck by means of a pulley at the end of
the yard-arm; - and how, on the voyage home, the ship was driven before
an awful gale of wind for five days, under bare poles, with terrific
seas roaring after them all the way. These descriptions took a strong
hold of Marco's imagination. His eye brightened up, and he became
restless on his seat, and thought that he would give the world for a
chance to stand up in the bow of a boat, and put a harpoon into the
neck of a whale.
In the mean time, the day wore away, and the road led into a more and
more mountainous country. The hills were longer and steeper, and the
tracts of forest more frequent and solitary. The number of passengers
increased too, until the coach was pretty heavily loaded; and
sometimes all but the female passengers would get out and walk up the
hills. On these occasions Forester and Marco would generally walk
together, talking about the incidents of their journey, or the
occupations and amusements which they expected to engage in when they
arrived at Forester's home. About the middle of the afternoon the
coach stopped at the foot of a long winding ascent, steep and stony,
and several of the passengers got out. Forester, however, remained
in, as he was tired of walking, and so Marco and the sailor walked
together. The sailor, finding how much Marco was interested in his
stories, liked his company, and at length he asked Marco where he was
going. Marco told him.
"Ah, if you were only going on a voyage with me," said the sailor,
"that would make a man of you. I wouldn't go and be shut up with that
old prig, poring over books forever."
Marco was displeased to hear the sailor call his cousin an old
prig, and he felt some compunctions of conscience about forming and
continuing an intimacy with such a person. Still he was so much
interested in hearing him talk, that he continued to walk with him up
the hill. Finally, the sailor fairly proposed to him to run away and
go to sea with him.
"O no," said Marco, "I wouldn't do such a thing for the world.
Besides," said he, "they would be after us, and carry me back."
"No," said the sailor; "we would cut across the country, traveling in
the night and laying to by day, till we got to another stage route,
and then make a straight wake, till we got to New Bedford, and there
we could get a good voyage. Come," said he, "let's go to-night. I'll
turn right about. I don't care a great deal about seeing my mother."
Though Marco was a very bold and adventurous sort of a boy, still he
was not quite prepared for such a proposal as this. In the course of
the conversation the sailor used improper and violent language too,
which Marco did not like to hear; and, in fact, Marco began to be a
little afraid of his new acquaintance. He determined, as soon as he
got back to the coach to keep near Forester all the time, so as not to
be left alone again with the sailor. He tried to hasten on, so as to
overtake the coach, but the sailor told him not to walk so fast; and,
being unwilling to offend him, he was obliged to go slowly, and keep
with him; and thus protracted the conversation.
[Illustration: THE HILL.]
About half-way up the hill there was a small tavern, and the sailor
wanted Marco to go in with him and get a drink. Marco thought that he
meant a drink of water, but it was really a drink of spirits which
was intended. Marco, however, refused to go, saying that he was not
thirsty; and so they went on up the hill. At the top of the hill, the
stage-coach stopped for the pedestrians to come up. There was also
another passenger there to get in, - a woman, who came out from a
farm-house near by.
