Up the River or, Yachting on the Mississippi

Oliver Optic

Description

UP THE RIVER is the sixth and last of The Great Western Series. The events of the story occur on the coast of Florida, in the Gulf of Mexico, and on the Mississippi River. The volume and the series close with the return of the hero, by a route not often taken by tourists, to his home in Michigan. His voyaging on the ocean, the Great Lakes, and the Father of Waters, is finished for the present; but the writer believes that his principal character has grown wiser and better since he was first introduced to the reader. He has made mistakes of judgment, but whatever of example and inspiration he may impart to the reader will be that of a true and noble boy, with no vices to disfigure his character, and no low aims to lead him from the straight and narrow path of duty.

Informations

• Publié par: Pub One Info
• Date de parution: 23 octobre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9782819903765
• Langue: English

Extrait

PREFACE.
UP THE RIVER is the sixth and last of "The GreatWestern Series." The events of the story occur on the coast ofFlorida, in the Gulf of Mexico, and on the Mississippi River. Thevolume and the series close with the return of the hero, by a routenot often taken by tourists, to his home in Michigan. His voyagingon the ocean, the Great Lakes, and the Father of Waters, isfinished for the present; but the writer believes that hisprincipal character has grown wiser and better since he was firstintroduced to the reader. He has made mistakes of judgment, butwhatever of example and inspiration he may impart to the readerwill be that of a true and noble boy, with no vices to disfigurehis character, and no low aims to lead him from "the straight andnarrow path" of duty.
The author has a copy of his first book before himas he writes. On the title-page is this line: "A Tale of theMississippi and the South-West." The preface, dated 1852, containsthis passage: "In the summer of 1848, the author of the followingtale was a passenger on board of a steamboat from New Orleans toCincinnati. During the passage – one of the most prolonged anduncomfortable in the annals of western river navigation – the plotof this story was arranged. Many of its incidents, and all of itsdescriptions of steamboat life will be recognized by the voyager onthe Mississippi." Since that time the author has travelled on theupper waters of the great river.
His last book, by a coincidence at the present time,also relates to the Mississippi. Nearly a generation has passedaway between the first and the last; and the latter is the writer'sseventy-fifth book. The author has endeavored to make his workscorrect in facts and descriptions, as well as in moral tendency;and in the preparation of them he has travelled over fifty thousandmiles by sea and land.
To his young friends, – some of the earlier of whomare now middle-aged men and women, with boys and girls of theirown, reading the same books their fathers and mothers read aquarter of a century ago, – to his young friends the author againreturns his sincere and hearty thanks for the favor they havebestowed upon his numerous volumes.
DORCHESTER, MASS., June 1, 1881.
CHAPTER I.
IN CAPTAIN BOOMSBY'S SALOON. "I don't think it'squite the thing, Alick," said my cousin, Owen Garningham, as wewere walking through Bay Street after our return to Jacksonvillefrom the interior of Florida. "What is not quite the thing, Owen?"I inquired, for he had given me no clue to what he was thinkingabout. "After I chartered your steamer for a year to come here, andgo up the Mississippi River – by the way, this river is called 'TheFather of Waters,' isn't it?" asked Owen, flying off from thesubject in his mind, as he was in the habit of doing. "Everyschoolboy in this country learns that from his geography," Ireplied. "Happily, I was never a schoolboy in this country, and Ididn't find it out from the geography. If the Mississippi is theFather of Waters, can you tell me who is the mother of them?" "TheMiss'ouri." "O, ah! Don't you feel faint, Captain Alick?" addedOwen, stopping short on the sidewalk, and gazing into my face witha look of mock anxiety. "Not at all; I think I could swallow aburly Briton or two, if the occasion required." "Don't do it! Itwould ruin your digestion. But it strikes me those two rivers arebut one." "I think so, too, and they ought to be. Father and mother– man and wife – ought to be one," I answered, as indifferently asI could. "But something was not quite the thing; and if there isanything in this country that is not quite the thing, I want toknow what it is." "When I chartered the Sylvania to come down here,and then go up the 'Father of Waters,' it isn't quite the thing foryour father to declare the whole thing off at this point of thecruise," replied Owen. "I was going to have a jolly good time goingup the river." "You may have it yet, for I have given you a cordialinvitation to go 'up the river' with me; and I mean every word Isaid about the matter," I added, in soothing tones. "But yourfather says the charter arrangement is ended, and you may go whereyou like in your steamer." "And I concluded at once to carry outall the arrangements for this trip, just as we made them atDetroit," I replied. "I have invited the Shepards and the Tiffanysto join us, and everything will go on just as it did before, exceptthat you will not pay the bills." "Which means that, if I join youat all, I shall not be myself," returned Owen, with a look ofdisgust. "In other words, I shall not be my own master, and I mustgo where my uncle and you may choose to take me." "Not at all; weare going up the Mississippi simply because that is the route youselected, and because I desire to carry out your plan of travel tothe letter," I replied, rather warmly. "I don't think I could doanything more to meet your views than I have done." "You are asnoble, grand, magnanimous, as it is possible for any fellow to be,Alick; but that don't make me any more willing to be underobligations to you every day of my life." "You need feel under noobligations to me." "Ah, but I do, you see; and I still think itwas not just the thing to break away from the written agreement wemade," continued Owen, unable to conceal his vexation. "I think youought not to say another word in that line of remark, Owen. Acontract to do anything fraudulent is void from the beginning. Doyou remember for what purpose you chartered the Sylvania?" "If youwon't say another word about it, Alick, I won't!" exclaimed mycousin, extending his hand to me, which I immediately grasped. "Iwon't, unless you drive me to it," I replied. "I have not remindedyou of what occurred while we were coming South, and I never will,for I think Carrington was the villain of the drama, and not you.""You are right, Alick; and you are the best fellow that everlived!" protested Owen. "But I would like to pay my share of theexpenses of the cruise from this day, as I have done before. Ishall feel better about it if I do." "I will speak to my fatherabout that. I am sure I don't object to your paying your share," Ianswered. "I am willing to carry out the agreement just as we madeit; but my father takes a different view of the subject." "I knowhe does, and I can't blame him," replied Owen. "He means simply tosay that his son shall be under no obligations to me, after whathas happened." "Let us say nothing more about this matter, Owen," Iadded; "it is not a pleasant topic to me, any more than it was tohim." "When do we sail, if I sail with you, Alick?" he asked."To-morrow morning; and we should be on board to-night, ready foran early start, for we have to conform to the tide on the bar atthe mouth of the river. The Tiffanys will go with us, but theShepards have not yet accepted the invitation I gave them." "I amgoing to Colonel Shepard's house now, and I will find out whetherthey are going or not," said Owen, as we came to a street leadingto St. James's Square, where Colonel Shepard's house was located."And I will drop into Captain Boomsby's saloon," I added. "Thebeast Boomsby! Why do you go there, Alick?" demanded Owen, with alook of disgust and astonishment in his face. "I lived with him foryears, and I will just say good-by to him, for I may never see himagain. I hope I never shall, at any rate. He has abused and wrongedme, but I am willing to forgive him if he will only keep out of myway." "'Pon my word, I believe you would forgive a man if he blewyour brains out, Alick?" "If it were a matter of brains, I couldn'tdo it; but if I had heart enough left, I would try to forgive himif he was sorry for what he had done." "You forgave me, and it iseasy enough for you to do the same with Beast Boomsby," added Owen,as he turned up the street to his destination.
I had been made the victim of a plot, and taught tobelieve that my father, Sir Bent Garningham, was dead. The littlesteamer Sylvania was my own property, for I had earned it by savingthe lives of her original owner and his family. Pike Carrington, myfather's solicitor in England, had induced the son of my father'syounger brother to make an attempt to get me "out of the way."
The villain had acted more for his own interest thanfor that of my cousin. They had called in my old enemy CaptainParker Boomsby, and sent him to Florida in one steamer, while Owenwent with me in the Sylvania. My friend Robert Washburn, the mateof the steam-yacht, had discovered the plot, and we had been on ourguard night and day to meet any treachery.
Captain Boomsby claimed me and all that I had, whenhe learned that my father was dead. He had done his best to obtainthe steam-yacht, but his unfortunate habit of drinking too muchwhiskey had defeated his plan. In his attempt to destroy me he hadtaken the life of the solicitor.
On our voyage, "going South," we had encountered aheavy gale in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Owen Garningham, my cousin,had been swept from the hurricane-deck of the Sylvania by theraging sea. At the risk of my own, I had saved his life. This acthad conquered him, and he no longer took any interest in the planto destroy me, if he had ever thought of anything so bad as this.He became my strong friend, and had no further desire to rob me ofmy father's estate, or to obtain the title, for which he cared morethan I did.
The Shepards were a family we first met at a regattain Portland Harbor. Owen had become deeply interested in MissEdith, the daughter, and, at his invitation, the family had comemost of the way to Florida in the steamer. We had been up theOcklawaha River to Lake Griffin, and up the St. Johns as far as anysteamer could go. My father, who had left me at college inMontomercy, to attend to his affairs in England, had been called toIndia on business. His absence was the opportunity for theconspirators, and they destroyed our letters.
When I learned that my father was not dead, I hadwritten to him. He had followed me up the St. Johns, and appearedi