The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1883-02-15
THE BLACK BUOY.

THE BLACK BUOY.
From Chambers Journal.
'.Swim?" said grandmamma, as we sat
round the cracking bil!ets one evening.
Every boy and girl should learn to swim.
Why, could swim like duck when wa 8
q girl. Dear ME, dear mel"
Grandmamma sat bolt upright in her
high backed chair, resting her elbows on the
arms, and smiling across at grandpapa-
who sat on the other side of the hearth
with conscious look in her bright old
eyes. Grandpapa, the general, pausing in
the act of raising his tumbler to his lips,
nodded and smiled back at grandmamma.
They were both white haired, bright eyed,
and rosy checked; both sat, straight and
erect, in tall, red cushioned oak chairs; and
each saw the other through an effacing me-
dunn that smoothed out wrinkles, restored
hyacinthine locks, and blotted out the fifty
years that lay between them and youth.
Now, when we, the youthful descendants
of this stately pair, CROPPED in lazy attitud
around the vast roari ng hearth, with its tall
carved chimney piece; saw the meaning
looks that were exchanged between our re-
spected progenitors, we scented story.
And when many voiced appeal for the
story broke from us, grandmamma hesita-
ted for moment and shook her head, then
looking across to grandpapa, who nodded
again, and after little pressing she thus
began:
You know, young people, that you are of
good family only on your grandfather's side,
and not on mine; for he came of an old and
honorable stock, while my father was only
ships bos'n. My father was killed in q
great sea fight, when I was only little
child, and was brought up by rly grand
father, who was ostensibly beatbuilder
and fisherman, but in reality smuggler.
successful smusgler, too! In those days
smuggling meant great risks and enormous
profits, for duties especially on foreign
wines and spirits, were exceedingly high.
It was not only a profitable trade, but it
was reputable in peculiar sort of way; for
it required great courage and great skill.
England was always at war in those DAYS
and the smuggler ran the risk of being
snapped up by an enenly's cruiser as well as
of falling into the clutches OF revenue cut
ter. In addition, there were the inevitable
chances and dangers OF the sea. So that q
good smuggler had to be not only man Of
great daring, but Of great knowledge of lav-
igation. He had to work into harbor on
the darkest night, for it was only on dark
nights that he could venture on "a rum
with the utmost secrecy and despatch. To
do that, lie must know every inch of his
way, be able to distinguish landmarks and
buoys where an Impractical eye would only
see indistinct blackness, and know to nicely
the time the tide turned, the twists of the
sandbanks and the position of the sunken
rock.
My grandfather could neither read nor
write, and he had, as think for that rea-
son, wonderful memory. He was assist
ed in his work by my two uncles, both illit-
crate men like himself; and the three seemed
to find their way, through long practice
and acute observation, as if by instinct.
There was only one channel leading to the
landing place; the mouth Of the little river
where we lived being almost choked by
sandbanks, which ran out to some distance.
It was necessary to hit this channel con-
siderable way out at sea, and a small black
buoy bobbed up and down to indicate its
commencement. One side of the harbol
was formed by line of rocks, jotting out to
some length and shelving down gradually
into the water; and the buoy was distant
from the extremity of these rocks about
~. - villa ThSo hoo60or1
Wa cal1ed the point.
The black buoy, mere speck on the wa"
tiers was hard enough for any one to fiud in
the broa day; yet my grandfather never
failed to find it in the dark-for of course it
was only on moonless night that he could
hope to run cargo. The usual course Of
proceeding was thus: The lugger arrived
off our coast at nightfall, lay TO until sig
nal was flashed from our friends on shore,
and then found the entrance to the channel,
and worked in with the tide. 1t was neces'
sary to be very careful in hitting off the
channel at first where the buoy was; or they
might ultimately run off the sunken rocks
at the extremity Of the point.
Grandfather and lived il pretty cot
tage at one extremity of the village. Our
house was better than most Of the others,
for grand ather had money in the bank,
and was we'll to do. The cottage was cover
ed with honey-suckles and creepers; at the
back was we'll stocked kitchen garden; in
front was grassy bank sloping down to the
sand, at its junction with which stood our
wooden boathouse. By the boathouse lay
three or four of our boats, broad, strong,
and unwieldly; and opposite the boathouse
were the moorings of the Little Lady, our
naughty, fast sailing, clever lit le lugger.
had very independent, irregular kind
oflife. Ny grandfather was often away for
days at q time, and the old woman who
looked after the house-for grandmother
was dead long since-would have had little
time for securing and cleaning if she had
tried to look after me. got little book
learning from the old vicar, but it was not
enough to hurt me. No, my dears; knew
no Italian, no Latin, or algebra; but my
eyes were none the less bright, my lungs
none the less clear, my color none the less
blooming, that passed most of my days in
the bright sunshine and free fresh ail. I
could run couple of miles and jump a
gate; could pull an oar with the best, and
cou d swim like duck. was thorough
ly at home either on the water or in it. The
sea had no terrors or difficulties for me ex-
cept such as it was pleasure to overcome.
So at sixteen, l am told, was fresh COL
ored, free limbed, bright eyed young maid,
whose only trouble was her long tresses of
thick brown hair, and who bothered her
bead very little with the other sex.
Not but that I had my admirers. But
they were limited in quantity and coarse in
quality. mean rough; manly enough, but
lackiag in that refinement which young
girl in any rank of life always longs for,