CHAPTER VI.
“Scythia est quo mittimur, inquam:
Roma relinquenda est: utraque justa mora est.”
Ovid's Tristia, 3d El.
“Did Captain Symmes tell you that himself, sir?” inquired
Raynor.
“He did,” replied Ned, “and I have not the slightest doubt
of the accuracy of his statement. I think I shall publish the
account for the benefit of science. Those discoveries concerning
the causes and sources of magnetism, and electricity,
and galvanism, are really astonishing.”
“It is strange,” said I, like a good, solemn, tiger.
“Yes,” responded Ned, with graver gravity, “truth is
strange, stranger than fiction.”
“Can't ye give us some more th' tic'lars, Mr. Locus?”
asked Dan. “Tell us what's the reason 'bout them spots in
the sun, and the bony fish all failen last summer. That's what
I want to know.”
“No, Dan; I'd rather give you what I know of my own
knowledge. Boys, did I ever tell you about my journey to
the Lanjan Empire?”
“I never heard you”—“Lan what?”—“Go it!”—“Now
for a yarn,” and several other interjectional questions and
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answers broke, simultaneously, from the lips of the attentive audience.
“That's a very interesting country,” simpered the tiger.
“Won't you take a drink before you start, Mr. Locus?”
“Thank you, thank you, Cypress.—Well, boys—hem!”—
and Ned got under way as follows:—
“I had always from my earliest boyhood, a vehement desire
to travel and see the world; and whatever other of my
studies may have been slighted, I certainly was not neglectful
of my geography and hydrography. Books of travel, of
any sort of respectability and authenticity, I devoured; from
Sinbad the Sailor, down to the modernest, pert, self-sufficient
affectations of our own expressly deputed readers of guide-books,
and retailers of family gossip. Still, however, I was
unsatisfied. I longed to be an actor, not a mere looker on; a
doer, not a reader of exploits. In this particular taste, my
revered father chose to differ from me, by the distance of
several continents. While I sighed for locomotion, and the
transmutation of the precious metals into foreign novelties, the
dearest care of that respected person was,
“ `T' increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home.'
“If, in the glow of my imagination, I spoke of Columbia,
river, Central Africa, Chinese Tartary, Ultima Thule, or any
other, reasonable, and desirable region for exploration, the old
man would shake his head, and tell me that he was responsible
for my future standing in society; and that he could not
permit me to go abroad until my habits were formed. `Besides,
my son,' he would add, `travelling costs money, and your
education is not yet complete, and exchange is up, and stocks
are down, and you're rather irregular, and—and you had
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better wait.' Wait, therefore, I had to, until I had finished my
collegiate experiences, and pocketed my alma mater's certificate,
that my habits were formed, and that I was a youth distinguished
for my learning, brains, and good behavior, and all
that; or, as Cypress would say, until the `hoc tibi trado' of
jubilee commencement-day was poured into my ear, and with
all becoming and appropriate solemnity, I was consecrated an
A. B. My passion for cosmopolitism burned, now, fiercer
than ever. I petitioned, and sulked, and flattered, and fretted,
and moved earth and heaven, or tried to,
“ `And Heaven,—at last,—granted what my sire denied.'
For it pleased heaven to put it into the heads of the navy department,
to appoint my uncle, Captain Marinus Locus, Commodore
of a relief-squadron that was to go out to the Mediterranean;
and about a year after my graduation, the flag-ship
Winnipissiago dropped her anchor at the place of rendezvous
off the Battery, having on board my excellent, excellent
uncle:—
“ `My uncle,
My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules.'
He was a jolly old cock, liberal, free-hearted, hated trade, and
grace before meals, and thought he was a strict disciplinarian
aboard ship, he liked an adventure on shore as well as any
body, provided only he was sure of not being found out. He
was a great admirer of the morality of Lycurgus, inculcated
in his precepts for the education of boys, and his darling
maxim was, that there was no such thing as abstract sin, and
that the iniquity of iniquity consisted in the bad example.
“During the time of his waiting for the rest of the squadron,
he was often at my father's house, and I had frequent opportunities
for the enjoyment of his conversation. It is not to
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be wondered that my heart grew to him, and that I became
unhappy with desire of a situation aboard his frigate. As propitious
fortune would have it, he took an equal fancy for me,
and noting the violence of my marine propensity, he interceded
with my father, and offered to give me a birth, and a share at
mess, during his cruise, and offered me all possible facilities
for seeing the country, without putting me or mine to any expense,
except for the necessary outfit. As this course of
travel would not require much disbursement, and as my habits
were by this time quite confirmed, the kind old gentleman was
persuaded to let me go.
“`Well, Ned,' said he, one morning, after breakfast, and a
tear stood in his eye, `I've traded you off. You may go with
your uncle. He has been begging, and hammering me, for a
fortnight, and last night he offered me a quarter cask of Juno,
and said he would take good care of you, and watch over your
behavior aud so forth, and so I told him he might have you.
There, the secret is broken.'
“`So is my heart,' said my mother, sobbing.
“`So is his coffee-cup,' chuckled the old gentleman, pointing
to the fragments, which my surprise and delight had
strewn upon the floor.
“`Remember now, my son,' continued the old gentleman,
and then he read me a lecture containing the essence of all
that Solomon ever said to Rehoboam, with the addition of a
digest of the more modern maxims of parental wisdom, down
to the date of the discourse. It was a precious mixture. I
took it with all becoming meekness, and in the agitation and
affliction produced by the notification that I `soon should be
on the boundless ocean, far, far from the tender watchfulness
of parental kindness,' I stuck my fingers into my mouth, and
then applied their watery ends to my eyes;—not anticipating
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the dialogue, I was unprovided with an onion. The old gentleman
at last got through, finishing with an injunction that
really made me cry, because I did not dare to laugh.
“`Not least of all,' said he, `be thankful for being born in
a country, where you, though only a private citizen, and one
possessed of no peculiar merit, may accomplish your travels
as a passenger on board a public ship. It doesn't cost any
thing. Uncle Sam pays the whole shot; and you can go to
Dan, and Beersheba, and all the other cities up the Mediterranean,
and write your travels, and I shall not be out of pocket
a penny. I shan't have to advance you a cent. That's what
I look at.'
“Sponge! thought I, a little startled, but I prudently kept
my peace.
“The rest of the discourse,—the parting,—the sailing,—
the deep, deep sea,—whales,—water-spouts,—Cape St. Vincent,—
hurricane,—chicken-coop, and two men overboard,—
Gibraltar,—duel between two midshipmen,—monks of Palermo,—
Mount ætna,—earthquake of Catania,—Dromio of Syracuse,—
Cape Matapan,—Bozzaris,—Greek pirates,—Colossus
of Rhodes,—Smyrna,—and so forth, I pass over. Suffice
it to say, that we finally arrived in the Levant, and cast our
cable in the neighborhood of Cyprus.”
“Cypress? Cypress?” asked Venus Raynor. “What,
any relation to our Mr. Cypress here?”
“No, no; near the island of Cyprus. Cyprus! beautiful
isle! In what glorious majesty stood thy old Olympus. How
fragrantly from thy hills came down the odor of thy orangegroves
and grape-vines, mingling with the wind-borne scent
of thy hyacinths, and anemonies! Land of generous wine,
and glowing beauty! Birthplace of Venus!”—
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“Hullow, Ned! hullow! what's thee up to now?” cried
Oliver.
“It's a lie,” pronounced master Peter. “Venus was born
at Raynor South. I knowed his father. Have my doubts
it's a lie.”
“That's what the family Bible says,” muttered the namesake
of the goddess, getting a little angry.
“Don't bother me, you fool,” said Ned, snappishly, and
putting his hand over Peter's mouth. “I did nt mean this he
Venus; no, but her, the queen of beauty, the mother of love,
Paphia,—Cytherea,—Aphrodite,—emerging from old ocean's
wave—”
“`Emersam ex undis Venerem,' as Stephanus Forcatulus
hath it, Ned,” I took the liberty of suggesting; fearing that
he would tire out the boys with his raptures. “I thought it
was Cythera, where the zephyrs carried the foam-born goddess.
You had better go on with the story. How far is it
to the Lanjan Empire?”
“Pardon, pardon, boys, for rearing up, and caracoling, in
this irregular fashion. No, Cypress, Cyprus. Only Hesiod
says Cythera. And you, certainly, won't put his `theogony'
in competition with the judicious Tully's `de natura Deorum.'—
I will try, now, to be less episodical. But whenever I
think of Cyprus, my bosom swells with the same feelings that
half overwhelmed me when first I breathed the air from its
beautiful shore; and my heart jumps within my body just as
my legs did upon the upper deck of the Winnipissiago, when
young Bob Shelley, a midshipman, for whom I had formed
the fondest friendship, was relieved from his watch, and came
up where I was listlessly lounging.
“`We'll go ashore to-night, Bob,' said I, rubbing my hands
between my knees, `and taste some Cyprian—'
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“`No; nor wine nor women,' interrupted Bob, despondingly.
`The old man has given orders that not a soul quit
ship to-night. All shore-boats are to be prohihited from approaching
within thirty yards.'
“`Why, the d—d old tyrant! what's in the wind now?'
“`Can't say;—should'nt be surprised if we were off to
the coast of Africa before morning: you now his way.'
“`Well, well; I'll go ashore;—yes,' said I, at that moment
catching the eye of a Greek fisherman who was sculling
upon the edge of the tabooed distance, and who seemed to
understand our conversation and wishes; `I'll be cursed if I
don't go ashore. Dare you go along? When is your next
watch; Can't you steal two or three hours.'
“`I may. I—may. But we must wait until night; we
would be observed now. It will soon be dark.'
“As Bob spoke, we observed the skiff of the fisherman
glide swiftly towards the ship, and her minute figure was
soon lost under the shade of our giant stem. The tongue is
not the only maker of assignations. My eyes met those of
Palinurus once more, and we had a perfect understanding
upon the subject of our wished-for visit to the shore.
“Night came, and we found our wily Cypriot under the
fore-chains; and we were soon at a miniature little city, built
upon a promontory, that jutted out towards the ship, and
which seemed to welcome our approach by the louder swelling
strains of various music, and happy-hearted laughter.
That night—that night!—I cannot tell the incidents of that
night now.—No—never—never. We got back safely, however,
and, as good fortune would have it, undiscovered, and
unsuspected. Not having been found out, I went to my hammock
with a quiet conscience, as indeed, with such a consolation,
after what had happened, I was bound to do, aboard
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the commodore's ship. The next morning, however, changed
the face of affairs; the non-intercourse regulation was repealed,
and free trade and sailors' rights let the crew ashore,
and a dark-browed Frank, the keeper of the cassino, where
we danced the night before, aboard. The old man was in
his cabin. Bob ran up into the main-top, and I turned into
my nest. Bob was on the sick-list at his next watch. I myself
was exceedingly disposed to be under the weather, and
out of the way of recognition, and identification by the sorrowful
host of `the three spears.' But the next morning the ship
stood away for the opposite coast of Africa, and we happily
recovered. I got well just in time to see the devil in the old
man's eyes, as I walked up towards him, in obedience to his
summons.
“`Sick! nephew, ha?' he began, half frowning, half sneering.
I felt sick at heart, indeed. But when he asked me
what had made me sick, and I replied that I attributed it to
eating too many Cyprian oranges, he shut his eyes half up,
and glimmering at me, sidewise, he turned slowly upon his
heel, rapped the rattan in his hand hard upon his leg, and
walked away. I saw it was all over.
“About six bells A. M., the officers, with myself, were all
called aft.
“`Gentlemen,' said the old man, looking black and dignified
as an incipient thunder-squall, `I regret that any individual
under my command should disgrace the national flag, by
riot, and violence in a foreign port; but much more do I regret
that any officer of the Winnipissiago should so far forget
his duty to his country, and his commander, as to break the
order of the day.' Then he ripped out a few appropriate
juramenta-juramentorum—that is, whoppers, boys. After letting
off steam, he went ahead again.
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“`My good friend, Kapitanos Antistratikos, the American
consul for Famagusta, and keeper of a highly respectable
cassino there, informs me that two persons from the Winnipissiago——
but no matter; that will be for charges and
specifications. Here; who'—pulling a handkerchief out of
his pocket—`owns this piece of documentary evidence? Mr.
Shelley, will you do me the favor to read the name of the
happy proprietor?'
“With what a savage sneer the old man put the question!
I quailed and trembled. I knew that Bob had lost his
handkerchief in the scuffle, and faint, very faint was the hope
that his ingenuity could excuse us. As to the offence itself,
that was nothing, in reality, in the old man's judgment, compared
with the sin of our leaving our tracks behind us, so that
we were sure of being detected.
“`Guilty sir,' said Bob, touching his hat. He knew
that there was no humbugging the old man. `The document
is my own.'
“`Enough. A court-martial will no doubt give due honor
to your unofficer-like conduct. Consider yourself arrested—
that is all, gentlemen. Pipe down.'
“`Mr. Locus,'—and the old man bowed to me with an ineffably
increased suaviter in modo,—`your tongue need not
confess that you were Mr. Shelley's companion. Your buttermilk
face has saved that member the trouble. You will
quit the ship at the first land we make. That ought in my
opinion, to be the rule in Shelley's case. So much for your
comfort.—I promised your father to take good care of you;
I shall keep my word, for I shall shortly leave you in Grand
Cairo.—D—n you, sir, do you laugh?—that's no pun. I
never made a pun in my life.'
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“`Is our friendship, then, sir,' said I, `forever annihilated?
'
“`Exactly, nephew. It ends at the mouth of the Nile,
where we shall shortly drop both you and our anchor. I have
only one word of advice to give you; it is, look out for
the crocodiles, and don't eat too many oranges. Good morning.
'
“I could have burst into tears, but Bob came running up to
me, and grasping my hand, cried, `Bear it like a man. They'll
cashier me, and I'll get permission to quit the ship with you;
we'll travel together and seek our fortunes.' Generous
fellow!
“Bob was correct in his anticipations; he was found
guilty, and sentenced to be cashiered. His petition to the old
man to be allowed to accompany me was readily granted,
and about dusk, that evening, we were landed on the coast
of Africa, near the western mouth of the Nile, a few miles
from Rosetta, and about eighty miles north-west from Grand
Cairo. We slept that night at the hovel of a Jew, and early
in the morning started upon our journey. We had nothing
to encumber us but the clothes upon our backs, our fowlingpieces,
and Bob's favorite fiddle. The last article we brought
along, as the means of earning our livelihood until we could
get into some regular employment. Our pistols and dirks we
had of course secured, together with a few pieces of gold.
With these appointments we started for the great city of the
Nile.
“Not being much used to walking, we progressed only
thirty miles the first day, and at the setting of the sun, rested
under a sycamore tree, to dispose of our frugal meal of dates.
Our repast was here suddenly interrupted by the appearance
of three marauding Bedouins, who dashed in upon us on their
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beautiful Arabs, cutting and slashing at us with their sparkling
cimeters. We very coolly cut two of them down in a
flash, with the first shot from our pistols. The third fellow
turned his horse and dashed his rowels into his bloody flanks.
But we gave him, each, the other barrel, and tumbled him off,
with one bullet in the elbow of his sword arm, and the other
in the small of his back. We then helped ourselves to a few
miscellaneous articles, that could have been of no further service
to them, and buried their bodies in the sand. After this
we had no further interruption until we arrived at Cairo,
which we reached, on the second following night.
“Our appearance here did not excite any very especial
wonder. There were people of all colors, and countries, and
religions, and habits, crowding along the narrow, dirty streets,
seeking their business or their pleasures. The dogs seemed
to be the most numerous and important part of the population,
and we had little trouble from any of the rest of the inhabitants.
So having sought out a caravansary, or boarding-house,
we sallied out and commenced our vocation of street-minstrelsy.
It was the most taking and profitable occupation
that we could have chosen. I led the air, and Bob warbled
bass, accompanying the melody with his cremona. `Cease
rude Boreas,' `Begone dull care,' `Ye sons of freedom,'
`Barbara Allen,' and several others of the most distinguished
Christian pieces of profane music we absolutely coined into
gold. The Cairoites were delighted with the novelty of
the entertainment, and we became most decided favorites.
Turks, Copts, Mamelukes, Jews, and Syrian Christians, voted
us stars, invited us to their entertainments, and vied with
each other in their unbounded hospitality.
“Wake up Peter, Cypress. Dan, take this tumbler.
“Well, boys, to be brief, in the course of three months we
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made money enough to buy fifty camels, one hundred Guinea
slaves, a few Mograbian dancing-girls, and a goodly quantity
of cotton, coffee, and other merchandize of the country, and
joining another caravan, off we started across the desert, to
the seaport of Suez, at the north end of the Red Sea. By
the by, what a pity it is that the Egyptians do not cut a canal
from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean. It is a dead level
all the way;—not a lock necessary. Bob and I sent in proposals
to the governor, to construct one within two years;
but his higness shook his head, and said that if Allah had
intended that there should be a water-communication from
Suez to the Levant, he would have made it himself. But of
that in another place. I intend to apply to our legislature
for an act of incorporation for a railroad. Keep it quiet, boys.
Say nothing.
“Our arrival at Suez created no little excitement. Our
fame had preceded us across the desert, and the swarthy disciples
of the Prophet of the east, grinned upon us, and fed us
and felt us, just as would the very Christian populace of New
York grin at, and feed, and feel King Blackhawk, and the
Prophet of the west. It was soon, however, our fortune to
be monopolized by good society. The sister of the governor,
Julia Kleokatrinka, a widow, got us. She was the lady
B—of the place, and a most magnificent woman she
was. She was decidedly the best dressed lady that I
have seen in all my travels. Beautiful, witty, learned,
accomplished, and, above all, so generous in every respect.
It was on account of her peculiar excellences, that she
had obtained a special license to be different in deportment
and behavior, from all the other ladies of rank in
Suez, and to expose herself to the gaze of men, and give
entertainments, and all that sort of thing. All the other
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women of Suez are strictly guarded in their seraglios, as they
should be. I took to her exceedingly. She loved and petted
me so, I could'nt help it. She used to call me her `hi ghi
giaour,' which means, boys, pet infidel poet. Her conversaziones
were delightful. She had around her, constantly, a brilliant
coterie, of poets and romancers. One day, I met at her
palace, at dinner, a cordon composed of Almanzor, the geometrician;
Allittle, the poet; Ali Kroker, the satirist; Ali
Gator, the magnificent son of Julia—the Suez Pelham;
Selim Israel, a writer of books which no body would read;
a Mr. Smith, an Englishman; a Persian mufti; an Iceland
count; a Patagonian priest, and several other persons of distinguished
merit and virtue. The divine Julia never looked
so well. She was dressed in Turkish pantaletts, made of
the ever-changing plumage of the throat feathers of the
African nightingale, woven and embroidered into a thin cloth
of silver. Over these she wore a chemise of pea-green Persian
silk, which hung loosely from the extreme tip of her
alabaster shoulders, and fell just below her knees. The rest of
her simple drapery consisted of a Tibetian shawl, which she
gracefully disposed about her person, so as to answer the
purpose of robe, or stole, or cloak, as her coquettish caprice
might desire. Around her neck sported a young tame
boa constrictor, and in her lap slumbered a Siberian puppydog,
which was presented to her by the emperor of Russia.
Her conversation was uncommonly piquant. I was in capital
spirits.
“`Will you be so generously disinterested,' said the charming
Julia, `as to eschew chewing until you can hand me that
salt?'
“`Most unequivocally, bright moon of my soul,' I readily
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replied; `Allah forbid, that through my neglect, a lady's meat
should go unsalted.'
“Then we all had a hearty laugh. I turned to Ali Gator,
who was leaning against a pile of scarlet satin ottomans, while
the rays of the setting sun fell full upon his beautifully embroidered
waistcoat,—”
“Stop, Ned, stop,” said I, looking around, and listening to
the chorus of heavy breathings that had, for some time past,
been swelling upon my ear. “Raynor—softly—Dan—louder—
Peter—with vehemence—Smith—Oliver—Zoph:—You
have, by gad; you've put them all to sleep. I'm glad of it.
It serves you right. Of what interest is it to these people to
know what twaddle was talked at Julia Kleokatrinka's dinner-table?
And what right have you to betray the privacies of a
hospitable board, into which you may have been, perhaps unworthily,
adopted. Shame! shame! It is a just judgment
upon you.”
“It only shows their want of taste,” replied Ned, coolly.
“Bring up your camels!” sung out Venus, as he turned
over on his side in an uneasy dream about the last thing he
heard before he went to sleep. “Bring up your camels!”
“So I say,” I continued. “Get out of the city, Ned, some
how or other. If you can't do better, take a balloon. Let's
wake the boys up, and then do you travel on. Bring up your
camels! Bring up your camels!”
I roared this out so loud, as to bring every man upon his feet.
“I was asleep,” said Raynor, looking as though he wanted
to make an apology.
“Some pork will boil that way,” philosophized the Hicksite.
“I was dreaming of the my-grab—somethen—dancen-gals.
What did you do with 'em. Mr. Locus,” asked Venus, rubbing
his eyes. “Were they pretty? I should like to try 'em on
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the double-shuffle, heel-and-toe, a small touch. Go it!
Hey!”
“I'm done,” said Ned, sulkily, crossing his arms.
“No, no; not by some thousands of miles,” cried I.
“We've got to get to the Lanjan Empire yet.”—I knew Ned
wanted to spin it out.
“It's my 'pinion he'll never reach there to-night,” yawned
Long John. “The wind don't seem to suit, no haaw. What's
your sentiments, Peter?”
“I have my doubts.”
Herbert, Henry William, 1807-1858 [1842], Sporting scenes and sundry sketches. Volume 1 (Gould, Banks & Co., New York) [word count] [eaf138v1].
