The difficulty which had occurred between Strictland and myself, and which at one time threatened to sever forever all friendly ties, was amicably settled before we arrived at St. Bartholomew. Policy undoubtedly pointed out to the Englishman the importance of continuing our friendly relations while my money lasted; and he apologized in a handsome manner for what I considered his rude and uncivil conduct. Again we became sworn friends and brothers, and resolved that the same fortune, good or evil, should betide us both.
We arrived at St. Bartholomew about the 20th of September, 1812, and landed our passengers in good order, well-conditioned, and in tip-top spirits, after a passage of twenty days.
Chapter XXIV. HARD TIMES IN ST. BARTHOLOMEW
We found the harbor of St. Bartholomew full of vessels belonging to almost every nation. Among them were several American clippers taking in cargo for the United States; also vessels under Swedish colors bound in the same direction. From these facts we anticipated little difficulty in procuring a passage to that country, on whose shores my friend, the young Englishman, as well as myself, was anxious to stand. But, although there were many vessels in port, there were also many sailors; far more than could be provided with employment; men, who by shipwreck or capture, had been set adrift in different parts of the Windward islands, and had flocked to St. Bartholomew with a view to get a passage to "The land of the free and the home of the brave."
Strictland and myself remained in the schooner La Concha a couple of days, until the cargo was discharged, when the French captain, taking me aside, told me he was making arrangements to proceed on a trip to Point Petre, in Guadaloupe, and was desirous I should remain with him as one of the crew on regular wages. But as he positively refused to receive my companion on the same terms, or on any terms whatever, and, moreover, expressed an opinion of his character by no means favorable, and which I believed to be unjust, I declined his proposition as a matter of course.
It now became necessary to seek some abiding place on shore until we could find means of getting from the island. But on inquiry I ascertained that thee expenses of board, even of the humblest character, were so great that our slender resources, the few dollars remained of my single month's pay, would not warrant such an extravagant proceeding as a resort to a boarding house. I convinced Strictland of the importance of the strictest economy in our expenditures; succeeded in persuading a good-natured Swede, who kept a small shop near the careenage, to allow my chest to remain with him a few days, and we undertook to "rough it" as well as we could.
In the morning we usually took a survey of the vessels in the harbor, hoping to find employment of some kind or a chance to leave the island. When hungry, we bought, for a small sum, a loaf of bread and a half dozen small fish, jacks or ballahues, already cooked, of which there was always a bountiful supply for sale about the wharves, and then retiring to the outskirts of the town, seated in the shade of one of the few trees in that neighborhood, we made a hearty and delicious repast. The greatest inconvenience to which we were subjected was a want of water. There was a great scarcity of that "necessary of life" in the island, and a drink of water, when asked for, was frequently refused. More than once, when hard pressed by thirst, I entered a grog shop and paid for a glass of liquor in order to obtain a refreshing draught of the pure element.
At night, after walking through the streets and listening to the gossip of the sailors collected in groups in the streets, we retired to some lonely wharf, and throwing ourselves down on a pile of SOFT pine boards, and gathering our jackets around us, and curtained by the starry canopy of heaven, we slept as soundly and sweetly as if reposing on the most luxurious couch.
But even this cheap mode of lodging was attended with inconveniences. One night a shower of rain came suddenly upon us. This was an event unfrequent and consequently unexpected, and our garments were thoroughly soaked before we could realize our misfortune. As this happened about three o'clock in the morning, there was nothing left but to wait patiently several hours, wet to the skin and shivering in the night air, until our clothing was dried by the rays of the sun and warmth restored to our frames.