Mary Anderson - Scenes in the Hawaiian Islands and California

"TELL us a story, aunty, – tell us a story," came in pleading tones from a group of children; and they watched my face with eager eyes to see if I looked willing.

"A story, children; what shall it be about?"

"About the places you went to while you were gone, and the people you saw."

"Now, aunty," said Carrie, who was one of the older ones, "we are going to be here a whole month, and if you will tell us a story every day, we shall know all about your journey."

I thought the matter over for a few minutes. "Well, children," said I, "I'll make a bargain with you. If you will promise to get your work done nicely every day by four o'clock, I will tell you a story until tea-time."

"A bargain! a bargain!" shouted the children.

It was winter when we went away, you remember, though there was no snow on the ground. We went on board the steamer Ocean Queen, in New York, on the 12th of January. Uncle George went down with us, and what a crowd there was on the wharf, – men and boys, coachmen and porters! It was some time before our carriage could get inside the wharf-gates, and when I got out, it seemed as if horses' heads were all about me; but seeing Uncle George was not afraid, I took courage, and keeping close behind him, soon left the horses. I found the people were worse than the horses; but after many jostlings and pushings, I got into the saloon, safe and sound, all but a rent in my dress.

Grandma and I stayed there, while grandpa and Uncle George went to look after the baggage. Strangers were all around us, and we couldn't tell who were our fellow-voyagers, and who not. Soon one and another of our friends came to say good-by. It was all very much confused, and we were glad finally when we were actually off.

Then I took a look at the stateroom where we were to spend ten nights. What a little box, almost too small to turn round in! – and our berths had so little space between them that we couldn't sit up at all. We went to bed early, quite disgusted with sea-life to begin with, and were wondering how we could get along for ten days thus cooped up, with hard beds, and not much to eat; for we had had no dinner that day, when – crash! a shock – and the machinery stopped! What could it be? Heads were popped out of staterooms, and "What's the matter?" was in every mouth. We had run into a small schooner, which had imprudently tried to cross our bows. For an hour there was noise overhead, – men running across the deck; and then all was still, only the thump, thump of our engine; so we went to sleep, thanking our Heavenly Father that no worse thing had happened to us.

"Aunty," said Harry, "what became of the poor schooner?"

We gave her one of our boats, and the captain thought he could get her into port; but she leaked badly, and I afterwards heard he had to run her ashore on some beach just out of New York.

Next morning, in my forgetfulness, I attempted to sit up in my berth, and gave my head a great bump on grandma's berth. On the third night out we had a heavy gale, and one of our sails was blown away with a noise like that of a cannon.

"Aunty," said little Alice, "do steamers have sails?"

Yes, we always had a sail on the foremast; it steadies the ship, and if the wind is right helps the vessel. Almost every body was sea-sick during that gale, for it lasted two days. We went scarcely a hundred miles, and were off Savannah when it cleared up.

"Oh, I know where Savannah is," said Harry; "it was in my last geography lesson."

When Sabbath came, it was very rough, so we could not have preaching. We sung a few hymns, but were rather quiet, when the cry, "Porpoises! porpoises!" made us run to the side of the vessel; and sure enough, there was a whole school of them rolling along in great glee. They are light brown fishes, varying in shade, some four feet long, some less. The female and young keep side by side, and leap out of the water at the same time. They jump out of the white crest of one wave into the next, racing along, seeming to try and keep up with the ship. It was very exciting, and the passengers shouted; for, excepting a few birds, they were the first living thing out of the ship we had seen for six days. All the rest of that day we were running so near the Florida coast that we could see the green trees on shore. We could hardly believe it was mid-winter. The water looked shallow, and we grazed the end of a sand-bank, after which they kept the vessel farther from the shore. We saw some great green sea-turtles that day; they were about three feet long. Our wheel turned one over on his back. I wanted to watch him; but we soon left him far, far behind.

We went round by the west of Cuba, to keep out of the way of the pirate Alabama. Monday morning, about nine o'clock, we came in sight of a gunboat. Soon after passing her, boom! went her cannon, and we came to a stand-still. She sent her boat with an officer, who came on board and got newspapers. That gunboat is stationed there to give warning of pirates, I suppose, and she is required to stop every vessel. The final excitement was left for Tuesday morning, when we were near Cape San Antonio, Cuba. While at breakfast, word came that there were two steamers ahead. It was whispered about that the larger was the Alabama; so we all went on deck to get a good look. Though they showed the Union flag, we were rather suspicious of them; and when they both started in pursuit and fired their cannon, our captain steamed in toward the land; for if vessels get within three miles of a neutral shore, no hostile craft can touch them. We came to anchor in plain sight of Cuba's green hills, and waited anxiously for our pursuers, who had fired a second cannon. They both lowered a boat. We feared we should see the rebel rag, but were joyful when our own stars and stripes were unrolled to the breeze. The vessels proved to be the Wachusett, Com. Wilkes's flag-ship, and the gunboat Sonoma, Capt. Stevens. So there ended our fright about pirates. For the next two days we were sailing across the Caribbean Sea, and on Friday, Jan. 23, about eight o'clock in the evening, went up Navy Bay to the wharf at Aspinwall. It was too dark to see the groves of cocoa-nuts on shore; so I had to wait for my view of tropical trees until morning.

There is the tea-bell; so we shall have to pause here until to-morrow.

AS soon as the clock struck four, Carrie, Alice, Willie, and Harry reminded me of my promise, and having all finished their work, were ready for story Number Two.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "Alice and I have finished our squares of patchwork, and Willie and Harry have weeded that flower-bed for grandpa; so you see we have done our part of the bargain, and now we have come for your part."

I'm all ready for my part, said I.

Before we arrived at Aspinwall, old travelers told us that if we got there before ten at night, we should have to leave the steamer and go to the hotels. We were, therefore, selfishly relieved to find that all the hotels had been burned to the ground about Christmas time. So we stayed on board the steamer that night, and how glad we were to think it was our last night there. We heard that the steamer upon which we were to embark on the other side was a very large one, and about five in the morning, after a comfortless breakfast of poor coffee without milk, and hard bread, we turned our back on the Ocean Queen, without regret. A stout, half-naked negro shouldered our baggage, and we were actually treading the soil of the Isthmus of Darien.

"Did he carry your trunks, aunty?" said Willie.

Oh, no, dear, we had our trunks all weighed the day before. We were only allowed fifty pounds of baggage apiece, and for all over that we had to pay ten cents for every pound. They gave grandpa checks for the trunks; so the man only took our bags and deck chairs. He took what we ourselves couldn't carry.