The Boy Tar

by Mayne Reid

After breakfast I was afraid I should be ordered to some work—such as driving a horse, from which I might not easily get off—some one might be set to a task along with me, who might report me too soon if I should absent myself. Fortunately there was no work fit for me on that particular day, and I was not ordered about anything.

Taking advantage of this, I brought out my sloop, which I was occasionally in the habit of amusing myself with during hours of leisure. There were other boys who had sloops, and schooners, and brigs, and we used to have races over the pond in the park. It was Saturday. There was no school on Saturday, and I knew that some of these boys would repair to the pond as soon as they had breakfasted, if not sooner. This would be a capital excuse for my going there; and with the sloop ostentatiously carried I passed through the farmyard, and walked in the direction of the park. I even entered the enclosure, and proceeded to the pond, where, as I had conjectured, I found several of my companions with their little ships going, in full sail.

“Oh,” thought I, “if I were to declare my intentions! what a stir it would make if the boys only knew what I was about to do with myself?”

I was welcomed by the boys, who seemed glad to see me once more among them. The reason of this was, that of late I had been kept almost constantly at work, and found but few occasions when I could join them at play, and I believe I had formerly been a play favourite with most of them.

But I remained among them only during the time in which the fleet made one voyage across the lake—a miniature regatta, in which my own sloop was conqueror—and taking the little vessel under my arm, I bade them good-day, and left them.

They wondered at my going away so abruptly, but I found some excuse that satisfied them.

As I crossed the park wall, I glanced back upon the companions of my childhood, and the tears ran down my cheeks as I turned away from them for ever.

I crouched along the wall, and soon got into the high road that led from our village to the seaport town. I did not remain upon the road, but crossed it, and took into the fields on the opposite side. My object in doing this was to get under cover of some woods that ran for a good distance nearly parallel to the direction of the road. Through these I intended to travel, as far as they would screen me from observation; for I knew that if I kept on the road I should run the chance of being passed or met by some of the villagers, who would report having seen me, and thus guide the pursuit in the right direction. I could not guess at what hour the ship might weigh anchor, and therefore I could not make my time for absenting myself from the village. This had been the thought that troubled me all the morning. I feared to arrive too soon, lest the vessel might not sail until I should be missed, and people sent after me. On the other hand, I dreaded lest I might reach the port too late, and find the ship gone. This would have been a disappointment worse than to be taken back, and whipped for the attempt at running away—at least, so I should have considered it at the time. I say, then, that this was the thought that had annoyed me all the morning, and still continued to do so; for it no longer occurred to me that there was any danger of my being refused once I offered myself on the ship. I had even forgotten that I was so small a boy. The magnitude of my designs had magnified me, in my own estimation, to the dimensions of a man.

I reached the woods, and traversed them from end to end unseen. I met neither ranger nor gamekeeper. When I had passed through the timber, I took into some fields; but I was now at a good distance from the road, and I was less afraid of meeting any one who knew me. I could tell how far I was from the road, by keeping the sea in sight, for I knew that the former ran close to the beach.

The tall spires of the seaport town at length came in sight, and by these I was enabled to guide myself in the proper direction. After crossing a great many drains and ditches, and scrambling through numerous hedges—here and there making a bit upon private roads that ran in the right course—I arrived on the outskirts of the town. I made no pause there, but directing my steps among the houses, I soon found a street that led towards the quay. I saw the tall masts as I approached, and wildly beat my heart as my eyes rested upon the tallest of all, with its ensign drawn up to the main truck, and floating proudly in the breeze.