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Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 15. Saying "Good-Bye!" |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. SAYING "GOOD-BYE!" Days of practice with my gun followed, and then two or three more afternoons in the mouth of the Thames, my uncle always selecting the roughest days for that purpose; but after a time or two I quite got over my dread of the water, and was ready enough to hold the sheet or take the tiller, picking up very rapidly a knowledge of how to steer so as to ease the boat over the waves that would take us on the beam; learning how to tack and go about: and a dozen other little matters highly necessary for one who attempts the management of a boat. And then the day of parting came, for Uncle Dick had made all his preparations, which were after all very simple, consisting as they did of two or three changes of clothes, plenty of ammunition, tools for skinning birds and animals, an abundant supply of preserving paste, and some medicines. It was arranged that we were to go by one of the French steamers from Marseilles, to catch which we had of course to cross France, and then we intended to travel by one of the Peninsular and Oriental steamers to Singapore after crossing the Isthmus of Suez, for this was long before Monsieur de Lesseps had thrust spade into the sand. "Get the good-byes over quickly, Nat," said Uncle Dick; and this I did as far as my Aunt Sophy was concerned, though she did kiss me and seem more affectionate than usual. But it was different with poor Uncle Joseph, and had I known how he would take it to heart I'm afraid that I should have thought twice over before making up my mind to go. "I can hardly believe it, Nat, my boy," he said in a husky voice. "It don't seem natural for you to be going away, my boy, and I don't know how I shall get on without you." As he spoke he held my hands in his, and though he was pretending to be very cheerful, I could see that he was greatly troubled, and after all his kindness to me I felt as if I was behaving cruelly and ungratefully in the extreme. "But I'm not going to grieve about you, Nat, my boy," he said quite cheerfully, "and here's your knife." As he spoke he drew a splendid great jack-knife out of his pocket, hauling out a quantity of white cord to which it was attached, and proceeding to fasten it round my waist. "There, Nat, my boy," he said, "it was the best I could get you; and the man says it is a splendid bit of stuff. Do you like it, Nat--do you like it?" "Oh, uncle," I said, "it is too kind of you!" "Not a bit, my boy, not a bit; and now make good use of it, and grow strong and big, and come back as clever a man as your uncle, and I know you will." There is a bit of history to that knife, for it was only the day before that he and I and Uncle Dick were together, and Uncle Joe wanted to make me a present. "There, Nat," said Uncle Joe, drawing his heavy gold watch out of the fob by its watered-silk ribbon with the handsomely chased gold key and large topaz seal at the end, "I shall give you that watch, my boy, for a keepsake. Take it, Nat, and put it in your pocket; keep it out of sight, my boy, till you have gone. I shall tell your aunt afterwards, but she mightn't like it, you know, and it would be a little unpleasant." "But I don't like to take your watch, uncle," I said, glad as I should have been to have it, for it seemed too bad to take it away. "Quite right, Nat," said Uncle Dick; "don't take it." "Not take it!" said Uncle Joe in a disappointed tone. "No; he does not want a watch, Joe. Where he is going he must make the sun his watch." "Yes," said Uncle Joe quickly, "but how about the night?" "Then he'll have to sleep and rest himself for the next day's work." "And how about getting up in good time?" "Daylight's the good time for getting up, Joe," said Uncle Dick; "and the sun will tell him the time." "Ah!" cried Uncle Joe triumphantly, "but the sun does not always shine." "No, not here," replied Uncle Dick. "You have too much smoke and fog. We are going where he shines almost too much. Here, put away your watch, Joe. It is of no use to a boy who will be journeying through the primeval forest, plunging through thorny undergrowth or bog, or fording rivers and letting his clothes dry on him afterwards." "But I should have liked him to have the watch," said Uncle Joe, rubbing one side of his nose softly with the case. "Leave it for him in your will, then, my boy," said Uncle Dick. "He wants nothing that will encumber him, and your watch would only be a nuisance when the water had soaked in. Leave it to him in your will." "Yes," said Uncle Joseph, "but I should have liked to give him something else to make him always remember me when he's away." "Why, Uncle Joe," I cried, with a curious choking feeling coming in my throat, "you don't think I could ever forget you?" "No, my boy, no," he said, shaking my hand very heartily, and then laying the watch down, as if he didn't care to take to it again. "It's very kind of you, Joe," said Uncle Dick, for he saw how his brother-in-law seemed hurt; "but don't you see, my dear boy, we are going to lead the roughest of rough lives, and what we carry at a time when every extra ounce will be a trouble, must be the barest necessities. I've often had to leave behind valuable things, solely because I could not carry them. Here, I tell you what: you go into the city to-morrow, and buy him one of the best, and biggest, and strongest jack-knives you can find; one of those with a steel loop so that it can hang handily from a lanyard, ready for any purpose from cutting his breakfast to hacking a way through the canes, or skinning a wild beast. You could not give him a better present than that." "To be sure," cried Uncle Joe, brightening up, "I will. What kind of a handle would you like, Nat?" "Never mind the handle, Joe; look to the blade. Let it be a thoroughly good bit of stuff, the best you can buy." "To be sure. Yes; to be sure," cried Uncle Joe; and taking up his watch he lowered it so carelessly into its place that it missed the fob, and ran down the right leg of his trousers into his Wellington boot. I had to turn boot-jack and drag the boot off before the watch could be recovered, Uncle Dick laughing heartily the while. And now this was the knife the good, amiable old fellow had got for me, and certainly it was one that would stand me in good stead for any length of time. "Good-bye, Joe, old fellow," said Uncle Dick, gripping his hand fast. "I'll take care of Nat." "Yes, yes, you will, won't you?" he cried. "Indeed I will, Joe, indeed I will; and now once more good-bye, old fellow, I'm off. Till we meet again. Come after me soon, Nat." Uncle Dick went away so as to leave us together, and no sooner were we alone than Uncle Joe hesitated for a moment, and then hugged me to his breast. "Good-bye; God bless you, my boy!" he cried. "It's all for the best, and I won't worry about your going; only come back to me as soon as you can, and mind you write." I can remember that there was a curious dim look about everything just then, and that Uncle Dick was very quiet in the cab; and so he was in the train, speaking to me hardly at all, and afterwards he read to himself nearly all the way to Paris, after which he suddenly seemed to turn merry and bright, and chatted to me in the heartiest way. _ |
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