My old summer home at Pawleys Island.
I had Jerry King ploughing in cow-peas at Cherokee, and he is a fine boatman, so I told Bonaparte to have my little dugout canoe which I call the Whiting ready for me at the wharf at 10 o'clock, with Jerry to row me. When I drove down, what was my dismay to find no Jerry there. Bonaparte with unmoved dignity told me that Jerry had just been arrested by the Sheriff while ploughing in the field, for debt, he said.
I was quite distressed. Jerry does not live on my place and so I know nothing about his financial status. I had to find some one, for Mrs. G.'s surrey would be waiting for me on the other side. Jim was eager to row me, but I doubt his being able to hold out for a seven-mile row, not having used oars for years. I found Aaron was working his cotton in the far field, so I sent for him.
He was taken unawares and came not knowing what I wanted, and was most reluctant to go without being dressed for the occasion. However, I insisted that it was an emergency and he would have to forget the good clothes he would like to have on, and I would do likewise. Aaron used to be a very fine oarsman, but he has not rowed very recently and felt doubtful. Little Goliah was eager to go in the boat, so I took him. He is 10 and it is time he was learning to manage a boat.
When we got to the mouth of the Waccamaw River it was very rough and Aaron wanted to turn round, but I would not appear to understand his desire. I exclaimed:—
"Now, Aaron, you see why I wanted you to row me. I knew there would be half a gale blowing out here, and I would not have been willing to cross with any but a first-class boatman."
"Miss, you t'ink we kin mek 'em? Dem wave is putty tampsious! You see de win' is ded gen de tide, en we bleege to cross right een de teef uf de win'!"
"Yes, but the tiller ropes are strong, and I can keep her head on the waves and watch my chance to quarter over. The boat is stanch, and I promise you I can keep her out of the trough. You know the river well; tell me the best place to cross, and let us go," for all this time we were dancing about in the mouth of the creek, where it would have been easy to turn—when once we got into the rough water we could not—and I feared that Aaron's caution might prevail.
The river is about a mile wide at that point, and it certainly did look angry. Poor little Goliah was so frightened at the swirling waves that I told him to sit down in the bottom of the boat, which he did, and covered his eyes with his hands so as not to see the raging water. He just shivered when the spray dashed over him. It was a strenuous half hour, but we made it, and when we got into the canal mouth on the other side Aaron laughed aloud with pride and delight; he rested on his oars, and taking out his bandanna, mopped his face streaming with sweat and chortled with joy.