Ned Myers, or, a Life Before the Mast

by James Fenimore Cooper

Night brought no change, unless it was to diminish the force of the wind. A short time before the sun set, one of the negroes said to me, "Masser Ned, John gone." I was forward of the two blacks, and was not looking at them at the time; I suppose I may have been dozing; but, on looking up, I found that one of the negroes had, indeed, disappeared. How this happened I cannot say, as he appeared to be well lashed; but I suppose he worked himself free, and being exhausted, he fell into the water, and sunk before I could get a glimpse of him. There was nothing to be done, however, and the loss of this man had a tendency to make me think our situation worse than it had before seemed to be. Some persons, all good Christians I should suppose, will feel some curiosity to know whether a man in my situations had no disposition to take a religious view of his case, and whether his conscience did not apprise him of the chances of perdition that seemed to stare him in the face. In answer to this, I am compelled to say that no such thoughts came over me. In all my risks and emergencies, I am not sensible of having given a thought to my Maker. I had a sense of fear, an apprehension of death, and an instinctive desire to save my life, but no consciousness of the necessity of calling on any being to save my soul. Notwithstanding all the lessons I had received in childhood, I was pretty nearly in the situation of one who had never heard the name of the Saviour mentioned. The extent of my reflections on such subjects, was the self-delusion of believing that I was to save myself--I had done no great harm, according to the notions of sailors; had not robbed; had not murdered; and had observed the mariner's code of morals, so far as I understood them; and this gave me a sort of claim on the mercy of God. In a word, the future condition of my soul gave me no trouble whatever.

I dare say my two companions on this little wreck had the same indifference on this subject, as I felt myself. I heard no prayer, no appeal to God for mercy, nothing indeed from any of us, to show that we thought at all on the subject. Hunger gave me a little trouble, and during the second night I would fall into a doze, and wake myself up by dreaming of eating meals that were peculiarly grateful to me. I have had the same thing happen on other occasions, when on short allowance of food. Neither of the blacks said anything on the subject of animal suffering, and the one that was lost, went out, as it might be, like a candle.

The sun rose on the morning of the second day bright and clear. The wind shifted about this time, to a gentle breeze from the southward and eastward. This was a little encouraging, as it was setting the schooner in-shore again, but I could discover nothing in sight. There was still a good deal of sea going, and we were so low in the water, that our range of sight was very limited.

It was late in the forenoon, when the negro called out, suddenly, "Massa Ned, dere a vessel!" Almost at the same instant, I heard voices calling out; and, looking round I saw a small coasting schooner, almost upon us. She was coming down before the wind, had evidently seen us some time before we saw her, and now ranged up under our lee, and hove-to. The schooner down boat, and took us on board without any delay. We moved with difficulty, and I found my limbs so stiff as to be scarcely manageable. The black was in a much worse state than I was myself, and I think twelve hours longer would have destroyed both of us.

The schooner that picked us up was manned entirely with blacks, and was bound into Charleston. At the time she fell in with us, we must have been twenty miles from the bar, it taking us all the afternoon, with a fair wind, to reach it. We went below, and as soon as I got in the cabin, I discovered a kettle of boiled rice, on which I pounced like a hawk. The negroes wished to get it away from me, thinking I should injure myself; but I would not part with it. The sweetest meal I ever had in my life, was this rice, a fair portion of which, however, I gave to my companion. We had not fasted long enough materially to weaken our stomachs, and no ill consequences followed from the indulgence. After eating heartily, we both lay down on the cabin floor, and went to sleep. We reached the wharf about eight in the evening. Just within the bar, the schooner was spoken by a craft that was going out in search of the Gov. Russel. The blacks told her people where the wreck was to be found, and the craft stood out to sea.

I was strong enough to walk up to my boarding-house, where I went again into quarantine. The Gov. Russel was found, towed into port, was repaired, and went about her business, as usual, in the Buford trade. I never saw her or her captain again, however. I parted with the negro that was saved with me, on the wharf, and never heard anything about him afterwards, either. Such is the life of a sailor!

I was still afraid of the constables. So much damage had been done to more important shipping, and so many lives lost, however, that little was said of the escape of the Gov. Russel. Then I was not known in this schooner by my surname. When I threw the ship's husband down the hold, I was Mr. Myers; when wrecked in the coaster, only Ned.

Chapter XIV.

Notwithstanding my comparative insignificance, there was no real security in remaining long in Charleston, and it was my strong desire to quit the place. As "beggars cannot be choosers," I was glad to get on board the schooner Carpenter, bound to St. Mary's and Philadelphia, for, and with, ship-timber, as a foremast hand. I got on board undetected, and we sailed the same day. Nothing occurred until after we left St. Mary's, when we met with a singular accident. A few days out, it blowing heavy at the time, our deck-load pressed so hard upon the beams as to loosen them, and the schooner filled as far as her cargo--yellow pine--would allow. This calamity proceeded from the fact, that the negroes who stowed the craft neglected to wedge up the beams; a precaution that should never be forgotten, with a heavy weight on deck. No very serious consequences followed, however, as we managed to drive the craft ahead, and finally got her into Philadelphia, with all her cargo on board. We did not lose a stick, which showed that our captain was game, and did not like to let go when he had once got hold. This person was a down-easter, and was well acquainted with the Johnstons and Wiscasset. He tried hard to persuade me to continue in the schooner as mate, with a view to carrying me back to my old friends; but I turned a deaf ear to his advice. To own the truth, I was afraid to go back to Wiscassett. My own desertion could not well be excused, and then I was apprehensive the family might attribute to me the desertion and death of young Swett. He had been my senior, it is true, and was as able to influence me as I was to influence him; but conscience is a thing so sensitive, that, when we do wrong, it is apt to throw the whole error into our faces.

Quitting the Carpenter in Philadelphia, therefore, I went to live in a respectable boarding-house, and engaged to go out in a brig called the Margaret, working on board as a rigger and stevedore, until she should be ready to sail. My berth was to be that of mate. The owner of this brig was as notorious, in his way, as the ship's husband in Charleston I had heard his character, and was determined, if he attempted to ride me, as he was said to do many of his mates, and even captains, he should find himself mounted on a hard-going animal. One day, things came to a crisis. The owner was on the wharf, with me, and such a string of abuse as he launched out upon me, I never before listened to. A crowd collected, and my blood got up. I seized the man, and dropped him off the wharf into the water, alongside of some hoop-poles, that I knew must prevent any accident. In this last respect, I was sufficiently careful, though the ducking was very thorough. The crowd gave three cheers, which I considered as a proof I was not so very wrong. Nothing was said of any suit on this occasion; but I walked off, and went directly on board a ship called the Coromandel, on which I had had an eye, as a lee, for several days. In this vessel I shipped as second-mate; carrying with me all the better character for the ducking given to the notorious--------.