“Well, Ben,” said his father, after the greeting had passed, “when I was young, folks didn’t go to sea without bidding their folks good by. Now, give an account of yourself.”
Ben, who knew his father, old sailor like, would want to know the details of the passage, said, “By twelve o’clock the first night I was up with Purpooduck, right off the pitch of the cape; the wind was very strong and steady from sunrise till midnight.”
“I know it was; for I was up watching it.”
“It then died away to a flat calm; and as the flood tide was drifting me into Portland Sound, I anchored and made a fire.”
“What on?”
“A flat stone I carried; made a cup of tea, and slept till daylight, when the wind, blowing the smoke in my face, woke me. The wind held, and plenty of it. I run her all day and all night, and by eight o’clock the next morning I was up with Cape Ann, when it fell calm. It was flood tide; I went to sleep and let her drift. When I woke up, the tide had carried me, with a little air of wind there was, up to East Point; and, in the course of the day and night, I tied her to Long Wharf, Boston—not much sorry.”
“What did Mr. Welch say?”
“He was somewhat astonished. There were hundreds of people on the wharf to look at me or the raft, I don’t know which. I got there in a good time. There were a great many vessels there, from Europe, after spars—especially big masts. I sold enough to pay for half the island, and I haven’t cleared a quarter of it; but that is not the best of it.”
“I should think that was good enough; what can be any better?”
“I sold all the timber that I used to confine the raft (and that was full of holes) for wharf stuff—the cable, sail, everything but the compass, canoe, and tea-kettle. I got a chance to pilot a French ship, that was bound to Portland for lumber and horses, and got a round price for it. They took the canoe on the ship’s deck. In Portland I found a schooner bound to Nova Scotia; they took me to Gull Rock, and I rowed home. Thus I got mighty good pay for doing my own work.”