Chapter 32. Master And Slave

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. MASTER AND SLAVE

"Eee! I say! Whatcher doing of!" roared Bob, beginning to struggle, as Dexter contrived to get his feet once more.

"I--I couldn't help it, Bob," he said, in a shame-faced way.

"Couldn't help it! Here, don'tcher try to wake me again that way."

"I didn't. I--"

"Coming jumping on a fellow."

"I didn't, Bob. The boat stopped all at once, and I tumbled forward."

"Then just you tumble on to some one else next time," growled Bob, sitting up rubbing himself, and then yawning loudly. "Why, hulloa! Whatcher been doing of now?"

"I? Nothing Bob."

"Yes, you have. You've got the boat aground."

"I--I didn't indeed, Bob. It went like that all of itself," stammered Dexter.

"Went all of itself! You are a fellow to leave to manage a boat. I just shut my eyes a few minutes and you get up to them games. Here, give us holt!"

He snatched at the boat-hook, and began to thrust with all his might: but in vain.

"Don't stand staring like that," he cried, becoming all at once in a violent hurry to get on. "Come and help. D'yer want them to come and ketch us!"

Dexter went to his help, and by dint of thrusting together the boat was pushed off the shallows, and gliding once more into deep water began to float gently on.

There was a few minutes' silence, during which Bob took the sculls and began to pull, looking, with his eyes red and swollen up, anything but a pleasant companion; and in spite of himself Dexter began to think that Bob as a conversational friend across the water was a very different being to Bob as the captain of their little vessel, armed with authority, and ready to tyrannise over his comrade to the fullest extent.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Dexter as he ran his eye over the handsome cushions of the well-varnished boat.

"Bob!" he said.

There was no answer.

"Bob, did you take that parcel and drop it in Sir James's letter-box!"

"What parcel!" said Bob sourly.

"That one I threw over to you last night."

"Oh! that one as fell in the water?"

"Yes: did you take it?"

"Why, didn't you tell me to!"

"Yes: but did you?"

"Why, of course I did."

"That's right. I say, where are we now?"

"I d'know. Somewhere down the river."

"Hadn't we better begin to fish?"

"Fish? What for?"

"Because I'm getting so hungry, and want my breakfast."

"Yes, you're a nice fellow to wantcher bragfuss. Got no money and no clothes. I s'pose I shall have to keep yer."

"No, no, Bob. I'll work, or fish, or do anything."

"Yes, so it seems," said Bob sarcastically; "a-sitting there like a gent, and letting me do everything."

"Well, let me pull one oar."

"No, I can do it, and you shall have some bragfuss presently. I don't want to be took, because you've stole a boat."

Dexter turned pale, and then red with indignation, but he did not say anything, only waited till his lord should feel disposed to see about getting a meal.

This happened when they were about a couple of miles lower down the stream, which steadily opened out and became more beautiful, till at last it seemed to be fully double the size it was at Coleby.

Here they came abreast of a cluster of cottages on the bank, one of which, a long whitewashed stone building, hung out a sign such as showed that it was a place for refreshment.

"There," said Bob, "we'll land there--I mean you shall, and go in and buy some bread and cheese."

"Bread and cheese," faltered Dexter. "Shan't we get any tea or coffee, and bread and butter?"

"No! of course not. If we both get out they'll be asking us questions about the boat."

Bob backed the boat close to the shore, stern foremost, and then said--

"Now, look here, don't you make no mistake; but you jump out as soon as I get close in, and go and ask for four pen'orth o' bread and cheese. I'll row out again and wait till you come."

Dexter did not like the task, and he could not help thinking of the pleasant breakfast at the doctor's, but recalling the fact that a fortune was not to be made without a struggle, he prepared to land.

"But I haven't got any money," he said. "No, you haven't got any money," said Bob sourly, as he tucked one oar under his knee, so as to get his hand free to plunge into his pocket. "There you are," he said, bringing out sixpence. "Look sharp."

Dexter took the money, leaped ashore, and walked up to the little public-house, where a red-faced woman waited upon him, and cut the bread and cheese.

"Well," she said, looking wonderingly at her customer, "don't you want no beer!"

Dexter shook his head, lifted up his change, and hurried out of the place in alarm, lest the woman should ask him any more questions.

But she did not attempt to, only came to the door to watch the boy as he went back to the boat, which was backed in so that Dexter could jump aboard; but Bob, whose eyes were looking sharply to right and left in search of danger, just as a sparrow scrutinises everything in dread while it is eating a meal, managed so badly in his eagerness to get away, that, as Dexter leaped in, he gave a tug with the sculls, making the boat jerk so sharply that Dexter's feet began to move faster than his body, and the said body came down in a sitting position that was more sudden than agreeable.

"Well, you are a fellow!" cried Bob, grinning. "Any one would think you had never been in a boat before."

Dexter gathered together the portions of food which had been scattered in the bottom of the boat, and then sat looking ruefully at his companion.

"If any of that there's dirty, you've got to eat it," said Bob sourly. "I shan't."

As he spoke he tugged as hard as he could at the sculls, rowing away till they were well round the next bend, and quite out of sight of the woman who stood at the door watching them, and as Bob bent down, and pulled each stroke well home, Dexter sat watching him with a troubled feeling which added to his hunger and discomfort. For once more it began to seem that Bob was not half so pleasant a companion as he had promised to be when he was out fishing, and they sat and chatted on either side of the little river.

But he brightened up again as Bob suddenly began to pull harder with his left-hand scull, turning the boat's head in toward the shore where a clump of trees stood upon the bank with their branches overhanging, and almost touching the water.

"Look out! Heads!" cried Bob, as the bow of the boat touched the leafage, and they glided on through the pliant twigs; and as the sculls were laid in, Bob rose up in his place, seized a good-sized bough, and holding on by it worked the boat beneath, and in a position which enabled him to throw the chain over, and securely moor the little vessel in what formed quite a leafy arbour with the clear water for floor, and the thwarts of the boat for seats.

"There," cried Bob, in a satisfied tone, and with a little of his old manner, "whatcher think o' that? Talk about a place for a bragfuss! Why, it would do to live in."

Dexter said it was capital, but somehow just then he began to think about the pleasant room at the doctor's, with the white cloth and china, and the silver coffee-pot, and the odour from the covered dish which contained ham or bacon, or fried soles.

"Now then!" cried Bob; "I'm as hungry as you, and we're all safe here, so hand over."

Dexter gave him one of the portions of bread and cheese--the better of the two, but Bob turned it over and examined it in a dissatisfied way, scowling at it the while, and casting an occasional glance at that which Dexter had reserved for himself.

"What I says is--play fair," he growled. "I don't want no more than half."

"But that's the bigger half, Bob."

"I dunno so much about that."

"And this is the one which seemed to be a little gritty."

"Oh, is it?" said Bob surlily; and he began eating in a wolfish fashion, making fierce snaps and bites at his food, as he held the bread in one hand, the cheese in the other, and taking alternate mouthfuls.

"Hunger is sweet sauce," and Dexter was not long in following Bob's example, that is as to the eating, but as he sat there munching away at the cakey home-made bread, and the strong cheese, in spite of its being a glorious morning, and the sun showering down in silver pencils through the overhanging boughs--in spite of the novelty of the scene, and the freedom, there did not seem to be so much romance in the affair as had been expected; and try how he would he could not help longing for a good hot cup of coffee.

This was not heroic, but the boy felt very miserable. He had been up all night, going through adventures that were, in spite of their tameness, unusually exciting, and he was suffering from a nervous depression which robbed him of appetite as much as did his companion's words. For instead of being merry, confidential, and companionable, Bob scarcely opened his lips now without assuming the overbearing bullying tone he had heard so often from his elders.

"Come, get on with your bragfuss," said Bob sharply. "We're going on d'rectly, and you've got to pull."

"I can't eat much this morning," said Dexter apologetically; "and I'm thirsty."

"Well, why don't yer drink!" said Bob, grinning, and pointing at the river. "Here, I'll show you how."

He took off his cap, and placing his chest on the side of the boat, leant over till his lips touched the clear flowing stream.

"Hah!" he said at last, rising and passing his hand across his lips; "that's something like water, that is. Better than tea, or drinking water out of a mug."

"Doesn't it taste fishy?" Dexter ventured to say.

"Fishy! Hark at him!" cried Bob mockingly. "You try."

Dexter's mouth felt hot and dry, and laying aside what he had not eaten of his bread and cheese he followed his companion's example, and was drawing in the cool sweet water, when he suddenly felt Bob's hand on the back of his, neck, and before he could struggle up his head was thrust down into the water over and over again.

"Don't, don't!" he panted, as he thrust against the side of the boat and got free. "You shouldn't do that."

There was a flash of anger in his eyes as he faced Bob, and his fists were clenched, but he did not strike out, he contented himself with rubbing the water from his eyes, and then wiping his face upon his handkerchief.

"I shouldn't do that? Why shouldn't I do that?" said Bob threateningly. "Serve yer right, sittin' down to bragfuss without washing yer face. Going to have any more?"

Dexter did not answer; but finished drying his face, and then took up his bread and cheese.

"Oh, that's it, is it!" said Bob. "Sulky, eh? Don't you come none o' them games with me, young fellow, or it will be the worse for yer."

Dexter made no reply, but went on eating, having hard work to swallow each mouthful.

Time back all this would not have made so much impression upon him, but the social education he had been receiving in his intercourse with Helen Grayson had considerably altered him, and his breast swelled as he felt the change in his companion, and began to wish more than ever that he had not come.

Almost as he thought this he received a curious check.

"It won't do for you to be sulky with me," began his tyrant. "You've got to go along o' me now you have come. You couldn't go back after stealing this boat."

"Stealing!" cried Dexter, flushing up. "I didn't steal it. We borrowed it together."

"Oh, did we?" said Bob mockingly; "I don't know nothing about no _we_. It was you stole it, and persuaded me to come."

"I didn't," cried Dexter indignantly. "I only borrowed it, and you helped me do it."

"Oh, did I? We shall see about that. But you can't go back never no more, so don't you think that."

Bob's guess at his companion's thoughts was pretty shrewd; and as Dexter sat looking at him aghast, with the full extent of his delinquency dawning upon him, Bob began to unloose the chain.

"Now then," he said, "finish that there bread and cheese, or else put it in yer pocket. We're going on again, and I want to catch our dinner."

The idea of doing something more in accordance with the object of their trip roused Dexter into action, and, after helping to force the boat from among the branches, he willingly took one of the sculls; and in obedience to the frequently given orders, rowed as well as his inexperience would allow, and they glided swiftly down the stream.

"What are you going to do first, Bob?" said Dexter, who felt more bright and cheerful now out in the sunshine, with the surface all ripple and glow.

"Why, I telled yer just now!" said the boy surlily. "Mind what yer doing, or you'll catch a crab."

Dexter did catch one the next moment, thrusting his oar in so deeply that he could hardly withdraw it, and bringing forth quite a little storm of bullying from his companion.

"Here, I shall never make nothing o' you," cried Bob. "Give's that there oar."

"No, no, let me go on pulling," said Dexter good-humouredly, for his fit of anger had passed off. "I'm not used to it like you are, but I shall soon learn."

He tried to emulate Bob's regular rowing, and by degrees managed to help the boat along till toward midday, when, seeing an attractive bend where the river ran deep and dark round by some willows, Bob softly rowed the boat close up to the bank, moored her to the side, and then began to fit together his tackle, a long willow wand being cut and trimmed to do duty for a rod.

This done, a very necessary preliminary had to be attended to, namely, the finding of bait.

Bob was provided with a little canvas bag, into which he thrust a few green leaves and some scraps of moss, before leaping ashore, and proceeding to kick off patches of the bank in search of worms.

Dexter watched him attentively, and then his eyes fell upon a good-sized, greenish-hued caterpillar which had dropped from a willow branch into the boat.

This seemed so suitable for a bait that Dexter placed it in one of Bob's tin boxes, and proceeded to search for more; the boughs upon being shaken yielding six or seven.

"Whatcher doing of?" grumbled Bob, coming back to the boat, after securing a few worms. "Yah! they're no use for bait."

All the same, though, the boy took one of the caterpillars, passed the hook through its rather tough skin, and threw out some distance in front of the boat, and right under the overhanging boughs.

There was a quick bob of the float, and then it began to glide along the top of the water, while, as Bob skilfully checked it, there was a quick rushing to and fro, two or three minutes' hard fight, and a half-pound trout was drawn alongside, and hoisted into the boat.

"That's the way I doos it," said Bob, whose success suddenly turned him quite amiable. "Fish will take a caterpillar sometimes. Give us another!"

The bait was passed along to the fisherman, who threw out, and in five minutes was again successful, drawing in, after a short struggle, a nice little chub.

After that, it was as if the disturbance of the water had driven the fish away, and though Bob tried in every direction, using the caterpillar, a worm, a bit of bread paste, and a scrap of cheese, he could not get another bite.

Bob tried after that till he was tired, but no fish would bite, so he handed the rod to Dexter, who also fished for some time in vain, when a removal was determined upon; but though they tried place after place there were no more bites, and hunger having asserted itself once more, they landed to prepare their dinner.

The place chosen was very solitary, being where the river ran deeply beneath a high limestone cliff, and landing, a few sticks were soon gathered together ready for a fire.

"But we have no matches," said Dexter.

"You mean you ain't got none," sneered Bob, taking a box out of his pocket. "I'm captain, and captains always thinks of these things. Now then, clean them fish, while I lights this fire. Got a knife, ain't yer!"

Dexter had a knife, and he opened it and proceeded to perform the rather disgusting task, while Bob lay down and began blowing at the fire to get it into a blaze.

That fish-cleaning was very necessary, but somehow it did not add to the charm of the _alfresco_ preparations; and Dexter could not help thinking once how uncomfortable it would be if it came on to rain and put out the fire.

But it did not come on to rain; the wood burned merrily, and after a piece of shaley limestone had been found it was placed in the fire where the embers were most clear, and the fish laid upon it to cook.

The success was not great, for when the fish began to feel the heat, and hissed and sputtered, the piece of stone began to send off splinters, with a loud crack, from time to time. Then a pocket-knife, though useful, is not a convenient cooking implement, especially when, for want of lard or butter, the fish began to stick to the stone, and refused to be turned over without leaving their skins behind.

"Ain't it fun?" said Bob.

Dexter said it was. He did not know why, for at that moment a piece of green wood had sent a jet of hot, steamy smoke in his eyes, which gave him intense pain, and set him rubbing the smarting places in a way which made them worse.

"Here, don't make such a fuss over a bit o' smoke," said Bob. "You'll soon get used to that. Mind, that one's tail's burning!"

Dexter did mind, but the fish stuck so close to the stone that its tail was burned off before it could be moved, a mishap which drew from Bob the remark--

"Well, you are a chap!"

Before the fish were done, more and more wood had to be collected; and as a great deal of this was green, a great smoke arose, and, whenever a puff of wind came, this was far from agreeable.

"How small they are getting!" said Dexter, as he watched the browning fish.

_Bang_!

A great piece of the stone splintered off with a report like that of a gun, but, fortunately, neither of the boys was hurt.

"We shall have to buy a frying-pan and a kittle," said Bob, as soon as examination proved that the fish were safe, but stuck all over splinters of stone, which promised ill for the repast. "Can't do everything at once."

"I'm getting very hungry again," said Dexter; "and, I say, we haven't got any bread."

"Well, what o' that?"

"And no salt."

"Oh, you'll get salt enough as soon as we go down to the sea. You may think yourself jolly lucky as you've got fish, and some one as knows how to kitch 'em. They're done now. I'll let you have that one. 'Tain't so burnt as this is. There, kitch hold!"

A fish hissing hot and burnt on one side is not a pleasant thing to take in a bare hand, so Dexter received his upon his pocket-handkerchief, as it was pushed toward him with a piece of stick; and then, following his companion's example, he began to pick off pieces with the blade of his pocket-knife, and to burn his mouth.

"'Lishus, ain't it?" said Bob, making a very unpleasant noise suggestive of pigs.

Dexter made no reply, his eyes were watering, and he was in difficulties with a bone.

"I said 'lishus, ain't it!" said Bob again, after more pig noise.

"Mine isn't very nice," said Dexter.

"Not nice? Well, you are a chap to grumble! I give you the best one, because this here one had its tail burnt off, and now you ain't satisfied."

"But it tastes bitter, and as if it wants some bread and salt."

"Well, we ain't got any, have we? Can't yer wait?"

"Yes," said Dexter; "but it's so full of bones."

"So are you full of bones. Go on, mate. Why, I'm half done."

Dexter did go on, wondering in his own mind whether his companion's fish was as unpleasant and coarse eating as the one he discussed, giving him credit the while for his disinterestedness, he being in happy ignorance of the comparative merits of fresh-water fish when cooked; and therefore he struggled with his miserable, watery, insipid, bony, ill-cooked chub, while Bob picked the fat flakes off the vertebra of his juicy trout.

"Wish we'd got some more," said Bob, as he licked his fingers, and then wiped his knife-blade on the leg of his trousers.

"I don't," thought Dexter; but he was silent, and busy picking out the thin sharp bones which filled his fish.

"Tell you what," said Bob, "we'll--Look out!"

He leaped up and dashed to the boat, rapidly unfastening the chain from where it was secured to a stump.

Dexter had needed no further telling, for he had caught sight of two men at the same time as Bob; and as it was evident that they were running toward the fire, and as Dexter knew intuitively that he was trespassing, he sprang up, leaving half his chub, and leaped aboard, just as Bob sprang from the bank, seized an oar, and thrust the boat away.

It was pretty close, for as the stern of the boat left the shore the foremost man made a dash at it, missed, and nearly fell into the water. _

Read next: Chapter 33. The Life Of The Free

Read previous: Chapter 31. Times Of Delight!

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