THE MORAL PIRATES

BY W. L. ALDEN

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1881

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by HARPER & BROTHERS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. All rights reserved.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE MORAL PIRATES.

CHAPTER I.

THE truth is, John,” said Mr. Wilson to his brother, “I am troubled about my boy. Here it is the first of July, and he can’t go back to school until the middle of September. He will be idle all that time, and I’m afraid he’ll get into mischief. Now, the other day I found him reading a wretched story about pirates. Why should a son of mine care to read about pirates?”

“Because he’s a boy. All boys like piratical stories. I know, when I was a boy, I thought that if I could be either a pirate or a stage-driver I should be perfectly happy. Of course you don’t want Harry[8] to read rubbish; but it doesn’t follow because a boy reads stories about piracy, that he wants to commit murder and robbery. I didn’t want to kill anybody: I wanted to be a moral and benevolent pirate. But here comes Harry across the lawn. What will you give me if I will find something for him to do this summer that will make him forget all about piracy?”

“I only wish you would. Tell me what your plan is.”

“Come here a minute, Harry,” said Uncle John. “Now own up; do you like books about pirates?”

“Well, yes, uncle, I do.”

“So did I when I was your age. I thought it would be the best fun in the world to be a Red Revenger of the Seas.”

“Wouldn’t it, though!” exclaimed Harry. “I don’t mean it would be fun to kill people, and to steal watches, but to have a schooner of your own, and go cruising everywhere, and have storms and—and—hurricanes, you know.”

[9]“Why shouldn’t you do it this summer?” asked Uncle John. “If you want to cruise in a craft of your own, you shall do it; that is, if your father doesn’t object. A schooner would be a little too big for a boy of thirteen; but you and two or three other fellows might make a splendid cruise in a row-boat. You could have a mast and sail, and you could take provisions and things, and cruise from Harlem all the way up into the lakes in the Northern woods. It would be all the same as piracy, except that you would not be committing crimes, and making innocent people wretched.”

“Uncle John, it would be just gorgeous! We’d have a gun and a lot of fishing-lines, and we could live on fish and bears. There’s bears in the woods, you know.”

“You won’t find many bears, I’m afraid; but you would have to take a gun, and you might possibly find a wild-cat or two. Who is there that would go with you?”

“Oh, there’s Tom Schuyler, and Joe and Jim[10] Sharpe; and there’s Sam M‘Grath—though he’d be quarrelling all the time. Maybe Charley Smith’s father would let him go. He is a first-rate fellow. You’d ought to see him play base-ball once!”

“Three boys besides yourself would be enough. If you have too many, there will be too much risk of quarrelling. There is one thing you must be sure of—no boy must go who can’t swim.”

“Oh, all the fellows can swim, except Bill Town. He was pretty near drowned last summer. He’d been bragging about what a stunning swimmer he was, and the boys believed him; so one day one of the fellows shoved him off the float, where we go in swimming at our school, and he thought he was dead for sure. The water was only up to his neck, but he couldn’t swim a stroke.”

“Well, if you can get three good fellows to go with you—boys that you know are not blackguards, but are the kind of boys that your father would be willing to have you associate with—I’ll give you a boat and a tent, and you shall have a better cruise[11] than any pirate ever had; for no real pirate ever found any fun in being a thief and a murderer. You go and see Tom and the Sharpe boys, and tell them about it. I’ll see about the boat as soon as you have shipped your crew.”

“You are quite sure that your plan is a good one?” asked Mr. Wilson, as the boy vanished, with sparkling eyes, to search for his comrades. “Isn’t it very risky to let the boys go off by themselves in a boat? Won’t they get drowned?”

“There is always more or less danger in boating,” replied Uncle John; “but the boys can swim; and they cannot learn prudence and self-reliance without running some risks. Yes, it is a good plan, I am sure. It will give them plenty of exercise in the open air, and will teach them to like manly, honest sports. You see that the reason Harry likes piratical stories is his natural love of adventure. I venture to predict that if their cruise turns out well, those four boys will think stories of pirates are stupid as well as silly.”

[12]So the matter was decided. Harry found that Tom Schuyler and the Sharpe boys were delighted with the plan, and Uncle John soon obtained the consent of Mr. Schuyler and Mr. Sharpe. The boys immediately began to make preparations for the cruise; and Uncle John bought a row-boat, and employed a boat-builder to make such alterations as were necessary to fit his for service.

The boat was what is called a Whitehall row-boat. She was seventeen feet long, and rowed very easily, and she carried a small mast with a spritsail. By Uncle John’s orders an air-tight box, made of tin, was fitted into each end of the boat, so that, even if she were to be filled with water, the air in the tin boxes would float her. She was painted white outside, with a narrow blue streak, and dark brown inside. Harry named her the Whitewing; and his mother made a beautiful silk signal for her, which was to be carried at the sprit when under sail, and on a small staff at the bow of the boat at other times. For oars there were two pairs of light seven-foot[13] sculls, and a pair of ten-foot oars, each of which was to be pulled by a single boy. The rudder was fitted with a yoke and a pair of lines, and the sail was of new and very light canvas. On one side of the boat was a little locker, made to hold a gun; and on the other side were places for fishing-rods and fishing-tackle. When she was brought around to Harlem, and Harry saw her for the first time, he

was so overjoyed that he turned two or three hand-springs, bringing up during the last one against a post—an exploit which nearly broke his shin, and induced his uncle to remark that he would never rise to distinction as a Moral Pirate unless he could give up turning hand-springs while on duty.

THE “WHITEWING” AT HARLEM.

Harry could row very fairly, for he belonged to a boat-club at school. It was not very much of a club; but then the club-boat was not very much of a boat, being a small, flat-bottomed skiff, which leaked so badly that she could not be kept afloat unless one boy kept constantly at work bailing. However, Harry learned to row in her, and he now found this[14] knowledge very useful. He was anxious to start on the cruise immediately, but his uncle insisted that the crew must first be trained. “I must teach you to sail, and you must teach your crew to row,” said Uncle John. “The Department will never consent to let a boat go on a cruise unless her commander and her crew know their duty.”

“What’s the Department?” asked Harry.

“The Navy Department in the United States service has the whole charge of the Navy, and sends vessels where it pleases. Now, I consider that I represent a Department of Moral Piracy, and I therefore superintend the fitting out of the Whitewing. You can’t expect moral piracy to flourish unless you respect the Department, and obey its orders.”

“All right, uncle,” replied Harry. “Of course the Department furnishes stores and everything else for a cruise, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it must,” said his uncle, laughing. “I didn’t think of that when I proposed to become a department.”

[15]The boys met every day at Harlem and practised rowing. Uncle John taught them how to sail the boat, by letting them take her out under sail when there was very little breeze, while he kept close along-side in another boat very much like the Whitewing. Harry sat in the stern-sheets, holding the yoke-lines. Tom Schuyler, who was fourteen years old, and a boy of more than usual prudence, sat on the nearest thwart and held the sheet, which passed under a cleat without being made fast to it, in his hand. Next came Jim Sharpe, whose business it was to unship the mast when the captain should order sail to be taken in; and on the forward thwart sat Joe Sharpe, who was not quite twelve, and who kept the boat-hook within reach, so as to use it on coming to shore. The boys kept the same positions when rowing, Tom Schuyler being the stroke. Uncle John told them that if every one always had the same seat, and had a particular duty assigned to him, it would prevent confusion and dispute, and greatly increase the safety of the vessel and crew.

[16]It was not long before Harry could sail the boat nicely, and the others, by attending closely to Uncle John’s lessons, learned almost as much as their young captain. So far as boat-sailing can be taught in fair weather, Harry was carefully and thoroughly taught in six or seven lessons, and could handle the Whitewing beautifully; but the ability to judge of the weather, to tell when it is going to blow, and how the wind will probably shift, can of course be learned only by actual experience.

CHAPTER II.

WHEN Uncle John announced that the Department was satisfied with the ability of the captain and crew to manage the Whitewing, the day for sailing was fixed, and the boys laid in their stores. Each one had a fishing-line and hooks, and Harry and Tom each took a fishing-pole—two poles being as many as were needed, since most of the fishing would probably be done with drop-lines. Uncle John lent Harry his double-barrelled gun, and a supply of ammunition. Each boy took a tin plate, a tin cup, knife, fork, and spoon. For cooking purposes, the boat carried a coffee-pot, two tin cake-pans, which could be used as frying-pans as well as for other purposes, and two small tin pails. Harry’s mother lent him several large[18] round tin boxes, in which were stored four pounds of coffee, two pounds of sugar, a pound of Indian meal, a large quantity of crackers, some salt, and a little pepper. The rest of the provisions consisted of two cans of soup, two cans of corned-beef, a can of roast-beef, two small cans of devilled chicken, four cans of fresh peaches, a little package of condensed

beef for making beef-tea, and a cold boiled ham. The boat was furnished with an A tent, four rubber blankets and four woollen blankets, a hatchet, a quantity of spare cordage, a little bull’s-eye lantern, which burnt olive-oil, a few copper nails, a pair of pliers, and a small piece of zinc and a little white-lead for mending a leak. Of course there was a bottle of oil for the lantern; and Mrs. Schuyler added a little box of pills and a bottle of “Hamlin’s Mixture” as medical stores. The boys wore blue flannel trousers and shirts, and each one carried an extra pair of trousers, and an extra shirt instead of a coat. These, with a few pairs of stockings and two or three handkerchiefs, were all the clothing that they needed,[19] so Uncle John said; though the boys had imagined that they must take at least two complete suits. He showed them that two flannel shirts worn at the same time, one over the other, would be as warm as one shirt and a coat, and that if their clothing became wet, it could be easily dried. “Flannel and the compass are the two things that are indispensable

to navigation,” said Uncle John: “if flannel shirts had not been invented, Columbus would never have crossed the Atlantic.” Perhaps there was a little exaggeration in this; but when we remember that flannel is the only material that is warm in cold weather and cool in hot weather, and that dries almost as soon as it is wrung out and hung in the wind, it is difficult to see how sailors could do without it.

The boys agreed very readily to take with them only what Uncle John advised. Tom Schuyler, however, was very anxious to take a heavy iron vise, which he said could be screwed on the gunwale of the boat, and might prove to be very useful, although[20] he could not say precisely what he expected to use it for. Joe Sharpe also wanted to take a base-ball and bat, but neither the vise nor the ball and bat were taken.

The Whitewing started from the foot of East 127th Street, on a Monday morning in the middle of July, at about nine o’clock. Quite a small crowd of friends were present to see the boys off, and the neat appearance of the boat and her crew attracted the attention of all the idlers along the shore. When all the cargo was stowed, and everything was ready, Uncle John called the boys aside, and said, “Now, boys, you must sign the articles.”

“What are articles?” asked all the boys at once.

“They are certain regulations, which every respectable pirate, or any other sailor for that matter, must agree to keep when he joins a ship. I’ll read the articles, and if any of you don’t like any one of them say so frankly, for you must not begin a cruise in a dissatisfied state of mind. Here are the articles:

“‘I. We, the captain and crew of the Whitewing,[21] promise to decide all disputed questions by the vote of the majority, except questions concerning the management of the boat. The orders of the captain, in all matters connected with the management of the boat, shall be promptly obeyed by the crew.’

“Now, if anybody thinks that the captain should not have the full control of the boat, let him say so at once. Very likely the captain will make mistakes; but the boat will be safer, even if the crew obeys a wrong order, than it would be if every order should be debated by the crew. You can’t hold town-meetings when you are afloat. Harry, I think, understands pretty well how to sail the boat. Will you agree to obey his orders?”

All the boys said they would; and Joe Sharpe added that he thought the captain ought to have the right to put mutineers in irons.

“That, let us hope, will not be necessary,” said Uncle John. “Now listen to the second article:

“‘II. We promise not to take corn, apples, or other property without permission of the owner.’

[22]“You will very likely camp near some field where corn, or potatoes, or something eatable, is growing. Many people think there is no harm in taking a few ears of corn or a half-dozen apples. I want you to remember that to take anything that is not your own, unless you have permission to do so, is stealing. It’s an ugly word, but it can’t be smoothed over in any way. Do you object to this article?”

Nobody objected to it. “We’re moral pirates, Uncle John,” said Tom Schuyler, “and we won’t disgrace the Department by stealing.”

“I know you would not, except through thoughtlessness. Now these are all the articles. I did think of asking you not to quarrel or to use bad language, but I don’t believe it is necessary to ask you to make such a promise, and if it were, you probably would not keep it. So, sign the articles, give them to the captain, and take your stations.”

The articles were signed. The captain seated himself in the stern-sheets, and took the yoke-lines. The rest took their proper places, and Joe Sharpe held[23] the boat to the dock by the boat-hook. “Are you all ready?” cried Uncle John. “All ready, sir!” answered Harry. “Then give way with your oars! Good-bye, boys, and don’t forget to send reports to the Department.”

The boat glided away from the shore with Tom and Jim each pulling a pair of sculls. The group on the dock gave the boys a farewell cheer, and in a few moments they were hid from sight by the Third Avenue bridge. The tide was against them, but the day was a cool one for the season, and the boys rowed steadily on in the very best of spirits. There was a light south wind, but, as there were several bridges to pass, Harry thought it best not to set the sail before reaching the Hudson River. It required careful steering to avoid the steamboats, bridge-piles, and small boats; but the Whitewing was guided safely, and her signal—a red flag with a white cross—floated gayly at the bow.

Uncle John had made one serious mistake: he had forgotten all about the tide, and never thought of[24] the difficulty the boys would find in passing Farmersbridge with the tide against them. They had passed High Bridge, and had entered a part of the river with which the boys were not familiar, when Joe Sharpe suddenly called out, “There’s a low bridge right ahead that we can’t pass.” A few more strokes of the oars enabled Harry to see a long low bridge, which completely blocked up the river except at one place, that seemed not much wider than the boat. Through this narrow channel the tide was rushing fiercely, the water heaping itself up in waves that looked unpleasantly high and rough. The boat was rowed as close as possible to the opening under the bridge; but the current was so strong that the boys could not row against it, and even if they had been able to stem it, the channel was too narrow to permit them to use the oars.

Harry ordered the boat to be rowed up to the bridge at a place where there was a quiet eddy, and all the crew went ashore to contrive some way of overcoming the difficulty. Presently Harry thought[25] of a plan. “If we could get the painter under the bridge, we could pull the boat through easy enough if there was nobody in her.”

“That’s all very well,” said Joe, “but how are you going to get the painter through?”

“I know,” cried Jim. “Let’s take a long piece of rope and drop it in the water the other side of the bridge. The current will float it through, and we can catch it and tie it to the painter.”

The plan seemed a good one; and so the boys took a piece of spare rope from the boat, tied a bit of board to one end of it for a float, dropped the float into the water, and held on to the other end of the rope. When the float came in sight below the bridge they caught it with the boat-hook, and, throwing away the piece of board, tied the rope to the painter. “Now let Joe Sharpe get in the bow of the boat, to keep her from running against anything, and we’ll haul her right through,” exclaimed Harry.

Joe took his place in the bow, and, pushing the boat off, let her float into the current. Then the[26] three other boys pulled on the rope, and were delighted to see the boat glide under the bridge. Suddenly Joe gave a wild yell. “She’s sinking, boys!” he cried: “let go the rope, or I’ll be drowned!” The boys, terribly frightened, dropped the rope, and in another minute the boat floated back on the current, half full of water, and without Joe. Almost as soon as it came in sight, Harry had thrown off his shoes and jumped into the river.

HARRY SWIMS FOR THE EDDY.

CHAPTER III.

AS Harry vanished, Joe’s head appeared, as he climbed up the side of the bridge and joined his brother and Tom. Their anxiety was now for Harry, who had been swept through the channel under the bridge, and was manfully swimming toward the eddy where the boys had landed. He came ashore none the worse for his bath, and was delighted to find that Joe was not only safe but dry. Joe explained that the boat had drifted against one of the piles of the bridge, and the current and the tow-rope together had forced one of her sides so low down that the water began to pour in. Joe thought that if the river intended to get into the boat, he had better get out; so he sprung up and caught one of the timbers of the bridge, and so climbed safely[28] up to the roadway. The boat, relieved of his weight and freed from the tow-line, drifted quietly away, and was now floating peacefully on the river about twenty rods from the shore.