Wild Sports in the Far West. Gerstäcker Friedrich

that there had been six!), some lemons, a little rum, pepper, sugar, some tin vessels for the table and to keep food in, knives, forks, and spoons. I found all right, and then lounged along the banks of the Weser, so as not to lose the boat. I was astonished at the number of passengers that arrived; and when I saw the crowd of people to be stowed in the miserably small boat, it appeared to me impossible that she could hold so many. While I was leaning against the corner of a house and looking on, a young man approached, wrapped in a blue cloak, with a foraging cap, spectacles, a long pipe in one hand, and a knapsack in the other; he looked at me steadfastly for a moment, and then accosted me with the intimate “Du” (Thou). His features were familiar to me, but I did not remember him till he mentioned his name; he was H., a former school-fellow, who was about to embark in the same ship. The sight of him first recalled to mind, since I had taken leave of all who were near and dear to me, that I was not quite alone in the world, and that there was still some one who would interest himself for me; of course we were now inseparable.

      We lounged about together for some time in the town, and on returning to the boat found for certain that it would not start till the following morning. Most of the passengers went on shore in the evening. H. and I remained on board with our baggage. Next morning we cast off from the shore and made sail with the ebb; the wind was unfavorable. No one who has not made such a passage, in a similar boat, with a like number of passengers, can imagine the scene. It is necessary to give a short description of it, as these boats are still in use, and may yet carry thousands of emigrants from their native land. The lighter was cutter-rigged, about forty-five feet long, and some fifteen broad, with a little hole in the after part called a cabin, with two sleeping places on one side and some rows of shelves on the other; it was about large enough to contain six people closely packed. Imagine sixty passengers in the other part of the boat! (for the cabin was only for the master, or captain, as he liked to be called). Sixty live passengers, with their chests, trunks, hat and other boxes, handkerchiefs of provisions, cloaks, mattresses, coverlets, &c. &c.; and not young men only, but old and young women, old men and boys, children and old maids, sitting, lying, standing, and leaning about. If any one had told me beforehand that such a number of people could have been packed in such a space, I would not have believed him.

      When all had settled themselves, and I was firmly persuaded that it was quite impossible to find room for one more, without hanging him up under the deck, a pair of legs poked themselves down the hatchway; over them was a blue jacket, topped by the rubicund visage of our faithful captain. After trying for some time with his feet to find a solid foundation to stand on, he let go his hands, and lighted on the corns of a lanky sailor, who had squeezed himself in between two chests, and had fallen asleep standing; the pain made him draw up his long legs, and he was so disconcerted, that, still half asleep, he courteously begged pardon of the captain, or Tarpaulin, as we called him.

      The captain now began to look about him, stepping over two and sometimes three persons at a time. But what was his motive for taking all this trouble? Merely to look at the pretty faces of the female passengers, and to try to make himself agreeable to them—but time and place, wind and weather were against him; he only received snappish words from some, and derision from others; finding that nothing was to be gained from the fair sex, he turned to the other, and began to ogle various attractive-looking bottles, which were less coy towards him, for here and there some of them were uncorked and their contents earnestly inquired into.

      At last he went on deck, and I followed, not without difficulty, to get at least a breath of fresh air; the weather was bad, the sky cloudy, with a sharp cutting wind, and occasionally rain: the dull leather-colored banks of the Weser filled me with melancholy.

      H. had followed me; so we lit a couple of cigars, and talked over old stories. We anchored at dark, as the master was afraid of running aground—the vessel swung round, the sails were lowered, and all was quiet for the night. As the dew fell heavy and cold, we once more descended through the dark abyss of the hatchway. Not a light was burning, and all lay close packed together; how I managed to get through the mass is still a mystery, but I remember that I passed the night, sitting on the corner of a chest, leaning my head upon another with an enormous padlock, against which I constantly knocked.

      What a scene in the morning!—I was as hungry as a wolf—and no wonder, for I had eaten nothing since the previous morning; I got on deck, washed my face and hands in a bucket of Weser water, and greedily devoured a morsel of bread and cheese which I had in my pocket. The weather had improved, the boat dropped slowly down with the tide. About eight o’clock we met a small fishing boat, from which I bought some capital shell-fish; these our captain ordered to be cooked by his ministering spirit, and of course came in for his share. When the flood made, we anchored again; H. and I with the only sailor went on shore to recruit our store of provisions, as our passage seemed likely to be a long one.

      In the afternoon we dropped down to a village called, I believe, Bracke, where some merry music struck our ears. Our Tarpaulin would not have passed it had the whole admiralty of Bremen been standing sentry on the shore; although the wind was fair, and the ebb still running, the anchor was dropped, the little boat hauled up, and all the younger members, babies excepted, landed on the beach.

      Dancing was carried on with vigor for a couple of hours, but I took no part in it; I was in no humor for dancing. I was nevertheless amused; the emigrants, in the costume of their different states, even in the moment of bidding farewell to their native land, jumped and bounded to the sound of a couple of fiddles and a horn, without a care for the future. As it began to grow late, the not very tender lighterman’s conscience of our captain began to reproach him. The wind was fair, and he knew that the ship was only waiting for him; so he collected his cargo, and we left the merry sounds behind us. We had had some fun at any rate, and that made the time seem shorter.

      At Vegesack, another village on the Weser, we received three more passengers, also bound for our ship—a man of about five or six and forty, his wife, some seven or eight years younger, and their hopeful son, of about eighteen.

      As it was a downright impossibility to squeeze in three more passengers amongst us, Tarpaulin gave them up his cabin, as he called it. It cost no little trouble to get the two rather helpless old folks stowed below. William, for that was hopeful’s name, managed it quicker, for his foot slipped, and down he went, like a flash of lightning, between his astonished parents, crushing his mother’s bonnet in his descent. Towards evening our captain wanted some tar. It was stowed under a scuttle in the floor of the cabin. The sailor, who had taken rather too much on board at Bracke, and thereupon had totally forgotten the principles of equilibrium, tumbled to the foot of the cabin ladder, and made the trio understand that it was necessary to open the little hole in the floor, and that therefore they must press themselves as close as possible against the ship’s sides. This was easier said than done, because a narrow seat ran along the sides. The scuttle was at last opened, the iron pot lifted out, and set with its sharp edge on William’s toes, causing him to draw back his foot and strike his heel forcibly against the ship’s side. But his cup of sorrow was not exhausted yet. With sublime patience he awaited the retreat of the sailor, who, with unsteady hands, lifted the bucket towards the captain, who had stretched out his hands to take it; but “there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.” The bucket turned over. William, poor innocent William, received the whole of the contents, and the captain got nothing more than his favorite perfume. He swore like a heathen. And what said William, as he stood there like butter in the sun? If the saying is true—“well greased goes easy,” it ought to have gone easy with him.

      One more night had we to pass in this wretched boat. It would fill volumes to relate all the occurrences, serious and comic. In the morning we saw the object of our hopes—the barque “Constitution”—lying at anchor, with flags flying. We were soon alongside and on board. The confusion of this moment was indescribable. The second lighter had arrived two days before us with the other passengers, who had secured the most convenient bed-places, and arranged their packages to the best advantage; no trifling matter in so small a space. The steerage was about thirty-three feet long by twenty-seven wide, and eight high, with posts, or stanchions, in the middle, to support the upper deck, to which the chests, &c., were lashed. Imagine on each side two rows of bed-places, one over the other, about six feet square, each wide enough, or rather not wide enough,