Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer Fish — John Shaqi
Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer FishJohnstone, Herrick
History
Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer Fish
Johnstone, Herrick
Dime novels; Privateering -- Fiction; Sea stories; United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
precisely alike--the garment generally consisting of a loose robe of
skins, reaching from the neck to the feet--and this, together with a
very slight dissimilarity of facial characteristics, renders it
difficult to distinguish the two sexes apart. One very praiseworthy
quality in these Indians--in strong contradistinction to the savages of
North America--is displayed in their almost universal contempt for
trinkets. They do not seem to care a button for any ornament--unless it
comes in the shape of a piece of useful clothing--while any gift which
they can put to immediate use is received with exuberant tokens of
delight and satisfaction.
One of our men offered to one of the chiefs a large, bright naval
button, when it was discarded with contempt, with the single comment of
"_waywoo nexel_," which, by a free translation, may be rendered into
"What is it good for?" "It is pretty, but worthless." Whereas, a large
nail which was offered by another of the men, was delightedly accepted,
with a profusion of thanks.
There was some utility in _this_. It might be fashioned into a spear or
arrow-head, or crooked for a hook to hang dried fish on. And it was,
therefore, far more valuable to the simple natives than the brightest
ornament of gold or precious stones.
We gathered our boat full of wood--such as it was--which we cut and
collected from the dwarf forests in the vicinity, and in a few hours
were ready to take our departure. I do not know whether they had ever
seen a ship, but, by some intuitive faculty, they seemed to conjecture
that we hadn't come all the way from the other side of the world in the
long boat--that there must be a vessel of larger proportions somewhere
in our vicinity, and they all wanted to accompany us on board the ship.
Strange to say, these natives are very poor boatmen. They are almost
devoid of any water conveyance.
We could not accommodate all of them, so they deputed one of their
number--quite a lad--to accompany us. He got in at the bow, we followed,
and pushed off, with our load of fuel, having a much better opinion of
the natives than before.
It was worth a long journey to witness the wonder and awe of our little
passenger upon first beholding the Queer Fish, as she lay at anchor in
the straits. At first the solemnity of the thing kept him silent. His
feelings of awe, however, gradually wore off, and he began to clap his
hands and utter wild exclamations at everything he saw. When on board of
the ship, he danced about in perfect ecstasy. We had a great deal of fun
with him, and the captain offered him a glass of grog, "just to see," to
use the skipper's own language, "how civilized the youngster was." Upon
the latter's rejecting the liquor in unutterable disgust, Joker
unhesitatingly declared him to be in the lowest depths of primitive
barbarism.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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