The Voyage of the HoppergrassPearson, Edmund Lester
General
The Voyage of the Hoppergrass
Pearson, Edmund Lester
Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction; Pirates -- Juvenile fiction
We all said that the Captain's idea was a good one. There was a
sharp turn in the river just then, and he put the boat about to
round a sort of headland, where the banks were eight or ten feet
high.
"Hard-a-lee! Look out for your heads," he shouted; and when the
sail had swung over he continued: "I come up through here one
night two years ago, in a boat that belonged to Dave Rodigrass,--I
was bringing her up from Little Duck Island, for him. It was
thicker'n burgoo, an' when I got the other side o' this pint, I
heard a feller sing out from this side that he was aground, an' he
warned me off, an' when I got here I couldn't see him, an' pretty
soon he begun shoutin' from the other side. I tell yer I thought
I'd got 'em again, or something, an' I--"
The Captain's recollections stopped that instant, for a voice--a
loud, cheerful voice--arose only a few feet from us. It came from
the other side of the sail, and that was all we could tell about
it.
"Look out there!" it shouted, "look out! Oh, I mean: ship ahoy!
ship ahoy!"
This hail came so suddenly that it made us jump, and Ed Mason, who
was standing up forward, nearly fell overboard. He grabbed the
mast to save himself, and then we all stooped to looked under the
sail. The shouting had begun again, and there was a great racket
of "Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!"
CHAPTER II
A MAN ON A DESERT ISLAND
"All right, all right!" shouted Captain Bannister, "we hear yer.
You needn't ahoy so much."
But the voice continued to shout "Ship ahoy!" at a great rate,
until the "Hoppergrass" drew slowly ahead, and we could see what
had been hidden by the sail.
A sand-bar stuck out of the water, right in the middle of the
river. Only a few feet of it showed, and the island which it made
was very small. It was so small that the man who was sitting on it
had his legs drawn up till his knees came right under his chin, so
as to keep his feet from getting wet. He was a young man, about
twenty years old. He had on white trousers and a pink shirt, and
he was slowly waving a white canvas hat. His hair was sandy, and
very much ruffled, and his big, pale blue eyes were wide open, as
though he were surprised about something.
"Ship ahoy!" he remarked again, but in an ordinary conversational
tone, this time.
Then he climbed to his feet,--carefully, so as to keep the steep
sides of his little, sand island from giving way, and letting him
down into the water. As soon as he was standing up straight he
raised one hand in the air, as if he were in a play, and said:
"Rescued at last!"
Then he turned toward us, and remarked: "Gentlemen, I thank you."
"You better wait till you're on board," said the Captain, "before
you begin thankin' us. I'll come about in a minute, an' then we'll
fetch yer in the tender."
Jimmy Toppan had already begun to pull the small boat alongside,
but before he could get into it, the young man called out: "That's
all right! I'll swim."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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