Uncle Dick’s first care, when he reached the coast, was to inquire for his runaway driver, of whom he had heard at several farm-houses along the route. He found that the man had been in Grahamstown, and that he had sold a horse and gun there; but they were not the same that he had stolen from his employer. Mack was much too smart for that. He had traded off Uncle Dick’s horse and gun at the first opportunity, sold those he received in exchange, and used the money to carry him out of the country. Uncle Dick’s gun had probably been left with some Boer a thousand miles back in the interior; but of course it would not pay to go back after it.
When the last ox, the last pound of ivory, and the last article composing their outfit had been disposed of, the party went on board the schooner in high spirits; and at the turn of the tide the anchor was hoisted not to be dropped again, they fondly hoped, until they sailed into the bay at the rear of Mr. Gaylord’s plantation. Nothing happened to mar the pleasure of the homeward voyage. Propelled by favoring breezes the Stranger sped merrily on her way, and the topsails were scarcely touched from the day they took their departure from the Cape of Good Hope until land was sighted on the other side of the Atlantic. The first familiar object they saw was Lost Island, which would ever be memorable in the history of the Sportsman’s Club, and the next was the village of Bellville. As the schooner sailed along past the town—the wind being favorable she did not signal for a tug to tow her in—her appearance attracted the attention of the people on the wharves, who gazed at her with great interest. There were some among them who had never seen her before, while others thought there was something about her that looked familiar, but they could not tell who she was. The Club’s friends had learned from Chase and Wilson that the Stranger was homeward bound, but they did not look for her so soon, and not one on the wharf could call her by name until they saw her round the point above the village and shape her course towards Mr. Gaylord’s wharf. Then it was too late to welcome her.
When the schooner rounded the point the Gaylord mansion and all its surroundings came plainly into view. The family did not seem to be on the lookout for her, but they were quickly made aware of her arrival. The twenty-four pounders, whose voices had not been heard since they spoke so emphatically to the inhabitants of that island away off in the Pacific, awoke the echoes of the hills, and when the breeze carried away the smoke that rolled up from their muzzles, some one was seen running along the carriageway that led from the barn to the house. It was old Sam. He was gone but a few minutes, and when he returned he was accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord. The schooner stood as close in to the jetty as the depth of the water would permit, and then dropped her anchor. Before it had fairly touched the bottom the gig was in the water, and Uncle Dick and the Club were on their way to the shore.
Of course, a perfect round of festivities followed the return of the wanderers, and the happy Christmas times were repeated. It was a week before George Le Dell and the cousins could tear themselves away from the hospitable Gaylord mansion. The rickety stage-coach carried them to New Orleans, and when they had taken leave of the trappers and seen them safely on board a steamer bound for St. Louis, they took passage on board a Washita River boat, and the next time they set foot ashore it was in front of George’s home. There the cousins remained another week—Archie would have been glad to prolong the stay indefinitely—and then started for Lawrence, where they arrived in due time, their voyage around the world being happily terminated.
Now, reader, the story of the Club’s adventures and exploits is ended, and before bidding them and you farewell, it only remains for us to tell where they are now, and what they have been doing since we last saw them. It is a true saying, that the boy is father to the man; and from what we know of our heroes, it is safe to predict that the virtues of manliness, truthfulness and fidelity which have ruled their lives in the past will always be strictly adhered to. Frank Nelson has not yet made anything more than a local reputation, but that he is sure to do it some day his friends all feel confident. He is a practicing lawyer in his native State. He is as fond of his fishing-rod and double-barrel as he ever was, and spends a portion of each summer at the Rangeley Lakes and among the Adirondacks. If he ever goes into politics, as his friends are urging him to do, it is to be hoped that he will use his influence and eloquence to correct some of the abuses that are now so prevalent. His home is still at Lawrence, where his mother resides. Archie Winters, shortly after his return from abroad, became a student at a certain polytechnic institute. He settled down to business with the determination to make a man and a civil engineer of himself. He graduated with honors, stepped at once into a responsible and lucrative position, and the cards of invitation that were sent out a few months ago show what he was working for. Archie is married now, and General Le Dell and his family go North every summer to visit him and his wife. Henry Chase and Leonard Wilson have purchased an orange plantation in Florida, and report says they are respected and successful men.
Fred Craven is a first lieutenant in the revenue service; and when he becomes a captain, as he probably will before another year has passed over his head, we should like to see any smuggler outwit him as Mr. Bell outwitted the captain of the cutter who overhauled the Banner once upon a time, and made her captain and crew prisoners. Jasper Babcock is a commission merchant and cotton factor in Bellville; George Le Dell, who is Archie’s brother-in-law, is in the same business in Memphis; Phil Perkins owns a controlling interest in a line of steamers plying between New Orleans and Galveston; and Walter and Eugene are carrying on their father’s extensive plantation, Mr. Gaylord having retired from active business. Of course they live at home—there is no place in the world like home, they think—and so does Uncle Dick, whose cabin is as much a place of resort for the young men of the vicinity as it used to be for the boys. The Banner is still in existence, and as for the Stranger, Uncle Dick says she is as good as she ever was, and still able to beat anything of her size that floats.
The intercourse between the cousins and the Sportsman’s Club which was brought about almost by accident, has never been interrupted. This acquaintance quickly ripened into friendship, which will be as lasting as life itself. Many a grand reunion have they had since they returned from abroad; and of all the adventures of which they have been the heroes, none occupy a more prominent place in their memories or are so often discussed as those that befell them while they were sojourning Among the Boers.
GUNBOAT SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. 6 vols. 12mo.