Sasha the serf, and other stories of Russian life

by Anonymous

"Only see, my dear son," she cried, "how rough and angry the lake is now; see what madness it is to venture out in an open boat upon its waves on such a day. If the ferry-boat must go, let it start without you, and do you stay at home, my Steenie, for your poor mother's sake."

"Oh! mother," replied the young man, "you are over-anxious; my business with Carl Wald compels me to go across whether I like it or not, and I cannot disappoint him if the ferry-boat starts at all, and start it will directly from the quay, for I see the passengers gathering together at the top of the steps. Only look now, there is Alec and Nicholas going across, and I cannot stay behind. Then, good-bye, mother, I am off to the Katharine." So saying he stepped briskly forward.

"Well, Paul, my man," said Steenie to the old boatman, "here's rather a rough passage across for us; I suppose you will go all the same, though you don't seem to like the looks of the weather a bit better than I do? But I don't see any other boats out this afternoon for certain."

"Oh, Paul! Oh, Steenie! it is just tempting Providence to think of crossing over with such a sea rising, and with the wind almost dead against you," cried the distracted widow.

"As to that, there's always danger afloat," answered Paul, "be it fair or foul; and Providence takes care of us afloat as well as ever he does on land. Here, Alec, let go that rope. Now then, to your oars. She's off now, boys! Helm aport now."

"Port it is," growled the steersman, who evidently had no fancy for the voyage, and had all this time been crying out against the unpropitious state of the weather.

The boatmen who were on the steps and along the beach assured the widow that there was no real danger; and so having bid her son an affectionate farewell, and uttering many a devout prayer for his safe return next week, she went back into her cottage low and depressed in her spirits, and sat watching the boat from her window as it did battle with each crested surge and rose proudly on its course. Need we say that she watched it with a mother's eye, until a projecting cliff shut it wholly out of sight? The storm, however, continued as before, and the mother had but one resource left, to commit her beloved son and the frail boat in which he crossed the waters of the lake to the merciful goodness of that Providence who is "the God of the fatherless and the widow."

Meanwhile the little vessel was battling with the angry waves in a place where there was a narrow passage, some fifty yards broad, between two dangerous shelving sandbanks, well known to the master of the Katharine and his crew. The sandbanks themselves, as it happened, lay partly under the lee of one of the little islands which stud the coast near Lachta; and the current was bearing strong upon the bank upon the leeward. At this moment the Katharine shipped a large quantity of water; as ill-luck would have it, the tiller broke, and before the boat's head could be righted she had drifted upon the edge of the bar of sand, and there she stuck fast. The little bark would have been overwhelmed by the breakers but for the shelter afforded by the corner of the island and the shifting of the wind a point or two round to the north; indeed she was fast filling with water, in spite of the efforts of the passengers to keep her afloat by bailing. To add to the general confusion on board, it now turned out that several of the passengers, who had been drinking at the village inn before starting from Lachta, were fairly intoxicated, and the rest were sinking down bewildered into the apathy of despair, so that only Stephen and two of the boatmen had their wits about them. But though they strove with all their might, they were unable to move the boat from off the sandbank. At this moment, when the waves were breaking over the little Katharine, and had already swept off into deep water one or two hapless passengers, who had lost all heart and courage, a sail was seen approaching.

It was rather a large vessel, with a gallant crew of some twenty men, who had been inspecting a portion of the coast. They had seen the perilous position of old Paul and his boat, and had borne down to his assistance, for in spite of the terrible raging of the wind and waves the captain could not see the poor fellows swept away one by one and drowned without at least making an effort to save them.

The vessel neared the sandbank; but how may she approach close enough to rescue the unfortunate fellows on board the Katharine? A boat is lowered from the vessel, and four as gallant Russian sailors as ever ploughed the fresh waters of Ladoga or the Baltic have rowed up to the spot; but the strength of two of the crew, added to the exertions of Stephen and the boatmen of the Katharine, are not sufficient to move the boat from the firm grasp with which the sand held her keel. They were, therefore, beginning to relax their efforts, when a second boat, with a crew of six stout-hearted fellows, neared the bank, and by vigorous efforts reached the spot in time to reinforce their comrades. Without the loss of a moment, one of the crew, a fine tall muscular Russian, some six feet five inches high, stripped off his outer garments, leaped into the sea, and after swimming a few sharp strokes gained a footing on the sand. This was heavy work indeed, as the sand was not hard and firm, but mixed with mud and slime; but the giant strength of the new arrival turned the scale, and after a few short and sharp heaves the Katharine moved once more. In a few moments she was afloat again, and taken in tow by the other boat.