2m Ban / ' c^ \ cP' « -^. "6, '^/. ' , X ..0^ .^ o^,« xO°<, 0- * s N » DAVID BUSHNELL AND HIS ^^-v AMERICAN TURTLE IfllustratcO tlbe merner Company NEW YORK AKRON, OHIO CHICAGO 1899 I L^-- 34593 Copyright, 1899, BY THE WERNER COMPANY TWO COPIES R£C::iVED. r DAVID BUSHNELL AND HIS AMERICAN TURTLE. T 1. ** I AAVID ! " cried a voice stern and commanding, I J from a house-door one morning, as the young man who owned the name was taking a short cut " across lots " in the direction of Pautapong. " Sir ! " cried the youth in response to the call, and pausing as nearly as he could, and at the same time keep his feet from sinking into the marshy soil. " Where are you going ? " was the response. " To Pautapong, to see Uriah Hayden, sir." " You'd better hire out at ship-building with him. Vour college learning's of no earthly use in these days," said the father of David Bushnell, returning from the door, and sinking slowly down into his high backed chair. David Bushnell and His American Turtle. Then spoke up a sweet-voiced woman from the kitchen fire-side, where she had that moment been hanging an iron pot on the crane : " Have a little patience, father (Mrs. Bushnell always called her husband father), David is only looking about to see what to do. It's hardly four weeks since he was graduated." " True enough ; but where can you find an idle man in all Saybrook town ? and you know as well as I do that it makes men despise college-learning to see folks idle. I'd rather, for my part, David did go to work on the ship Uriah Hayden is building. I wish I knew what he's gone over there for to-day." A funny smile crept into the curves of Mrs. Bush- nell's lips, but her husband did not notice it. Mr. Bushnell moved uneasily in his chair, as he sat leaning forward, both hands clasped about a hickory stick, and his chin resting on the knob at its top. Presently he said : " Anna, I fear David is getting into bad habits. He used to talk a good deal. Now he sits with his eyes on the floor, and his forehead in wrinkles, and I'm sure I've heard him moving about more than one night lately, after all honest folks were in bed." " Father, you must remember that you've been very sick, and fever gives one queer notions sometimes. David Bushnell and His American Turtle, I shouldn't wonder one bit if you dreamed you heard something, when 'twas only the rats behind the wain- scot." "Rats don't step like a grown man in his stocking- feet, nor make the rafters creak, either." Madam Bushnell appeared to be investigating the contents of the pot hanging on the crane, and perhaps the heat of the blazing wood was sufficient to account for the burning of her cheeks. She cooled them a moment later by going dviwn cellar after cider, a mug of which she offered to her husband, proposing the while that he should have his chair out of doors, and sit under the sycamore tree by the river-bank. When he assented, and she had seen him safely in the chair, she made haste to David's bed-room. Since Mr. Bushnell's illness, no one had ascended to the chamber except herself and her son. On two shelves hanging against the wall were the books that he had brought home with him from Yale College, just four weeks ago. A table was drawn near to the one window in the room. On it were bits of wood, with iron scraps, fragments of glass and copper. In fact, the same thing to-day would suggest boat-building to the mother of any lad finding them among her boy's playthings. To this mother they suggested nothing beyond the David Bushnell and His American Turtle. fact that David was engaged in something which he wished to keep a profound secret. He had not told her so. It had not been necessary. She had divined it, and kept silence, having all a mother's confidence in, and hope of, her son's success in life. As she surveyed the place, she thought : " There is nothing here, even if he (meaning her husband) should take it into his head to come up and look about." Meanwhile young David had crossed the Pochaug River, and was half the way to Pautapong. All this happened more than a thousand moons ago, when all the land was aroused and astir and David Bushnell was not in the least surprised to meet, at the ship-yard of Uriah Hayden, Jonathan Trumbull, Governor of Connecticut. This man was everywhere, seeing to everything, in that year. Whatever his country needed, or Com- mander-in-chief Washington ordered from the camp at Cambridge, was forthcoming. A ship had been demanded of Connecticut, and so Governor Trumbull had come down from Lebanon to look with his own eyes at the huge ribs of oak, there- after to sail the seas as " Oliver Cromwell." The self-same oaken ribs had intense interest foi David Bushiiell afid His American Turtle. young David Bushnell. Uriah Hayden had promised to sell to him all the pieces of ship-timber that should be left, and while the governor and the builder planned, he went about gathering together fragments. " Better take enough to build a boat that will carry a seine. 'Twon't cost you a mite more, and might serve you a good turn to have a sizable craft in a heavy sea some day," said Mr. Hayden. Now David Bushnell had been wishing that he had some good and sufficient reason to give Mr. Hayden for wanting the stuff at all, and here he had given it to him. " That's true," spoke up David, "but how am I lo get all this over to Pochaug ? " " Don't get it over at all, until it's ready to row down the Connecticut, and around the Sound. You're welcome to build your boat at the yard, and, now and then, there will be odd minutes that the men can help you on with it." David thanked Mr. Hayden, grew cheerful of heart over the prospect of owning a boat of his own, and went merrily back to the village of Pochaug. Two weeks later David's boat was ready for sea. It was launched into the Connecticut from the ways on which the " Oliver Cromwell" grew, was named Lady Fenwick, and, when water-tight, was rowed down the David Bushiiell and His American Turtle, river, past Saybrook and Tomb Hill, and so into the Long Island Sound. When its owner and navigator went by Tomb Hill, he removed his hat, and bowed reverently. He thought with respect and admiration of the occupant of the sandstone tomb on its height, the Lady Fen- wick who had slept there one hundred and thirty years. With blistered palms and burning fingers David Bushnell pushed his boat with pride up the Pochaug River, and tied it to a stake at the bridge just beyond \ le sycamore tree, near his father's door. " I'll fetch father and mother out to see it," he hought, "when the moon gets up a little higher." With boyish pride he looked down at the work of liis hands from the river-bank, and went in to get his supper. " David ! " called Mr. Bushnell, having heard his steps in the entry-way. " Here I am, father," returned the young man, ap- pearing within the room, and speaking in a cheerful tone. " Don't you think you have wasted about time enough ? " The voice was high- wrought and nervous in the ex- treme. He, poor man, had been that afternoon thinking the matter over for the hundredth time, in a David Bushnell afid His American Turtle, convalescent's weak manner of looking at other folks actions. David Bushnell, smiling still, and taking out a large silver watch from his waistcoat pocket, and looking at it, replied : " I haven't wasted one moment, father. The tide was against me, but I've rowed around from Pauta- pong ship-yard to the sycamore tree out here since two o'clock." " You row a boat I " cried Mr. Bushnell, with lofty disdain. " Why, father, you have not a very good opinion of your son, have you?" questioned the son. "Come, though, and see what he has been doing. Come, mother," as Mrs. Bushnell entered, bearing David's supper in her hands. She put it down. Mr. Bushnell pulled himself up right with a groan or two, and suffered David to assist him by the support of his arm as they went out. "Why, you tremble as though you had the palsy," said the father. " It's nothing. I'm not used to pulling so long at the oar," said the son. When they came to the bank, the full moon shone ithwart the little boat rocking on the stream " What's that ? " exclaimed both parents. 12 David Bushnell and His American Turtle, " That is the Lady Fenwick. I've been building the boat myself. You advised me, father, to go to ship-building one morning — do you remember? 1 took your advice, and began at the bottom of the ladder/' " You built that boat with your own hands, you say ? " " With my own hands, sir." " In two weeks' time ? " "Yes, sir." " And rowed it all the way down the river, and up the Pochaug ? " " Yes, sir." " Good boy ! You may go in and have your sup' per," said Mr. Bushnell, patting him on the back, just as he had done when he returned from college with his first award. As for Madam Bushnell, she smiled down upon Lady Fenwick and did her great reverence in her heart, while she said to the boat-builder : " David dear, wait a few minutes, and I'll give you something nice and warm for your supper. Your fa- ther, Ezra and I had ours long ago." That night Mr. Bushnell did not lie awake to listen for the stealthy stepping in the upper room. He slept all the sounder, because he had at last seen one David Bushnell and His American Turtle, stroke of honest work, as he called it, as the result of his endeavors to help David on in life. As for David himself, he went to sleep, saying in his heart : " It is a good stepping-stone, at least \ " which conclusion grew into form in sleep, and shaped itself into a mighty monster, that bored itself under mountains, and, after taking a n^p, roused and shook itself so mightily that the mountain flew into fragments high in air. If you go, to-day, into the Connecticut River from Long Island Sound, you will see on its left bank the old town of Saybrook, on its right the slightly younger town of Lyme, and you will have passed by, without having been very much interested in it, an island ly- ing just within the shelter of either bank. In the summer of 1774 a band of fishermen put up a reel upon the island, on which to wind their seine. Over the reel they built a roof to protect it from the rains. With the exception of the reel, there was no building upon the island. A large portion of the land was submerged at the highest tides, and in the spring freshets, and was covered with a generous growth of salt grass, in which a small army might readily find concealment. The little fishing band was now sadly broken and lessened by one of the Washingtonian demands upon David Bushnell and His America?i Turtle. Brother Jonathan. For reasons that he did not choose to give, David Bushnell joined this band of fishermen in the summer of 1775. Gradually he made himself, by purchase, the owner of the larger part of the reel and seine. In a few weeks' time he had induced his brother Ezra to become as much of a fisherman as he himself was. As the days went by, the brothers fairly haunted this island. They gave it a name for their own use, and, early in the day-dawn of many a morning, they pulled the Lady Fenwick wearily up the Pochaug, to snatch a few winks of sleep at home, before the sun should fairly rise and call them to their daily tasks, for David assumed to help Ezra on the farm, even as Ezra helped him on the island. The two brothers owned the reel and the seine be- fore the end of the month of August in 1775. As soon as they became the sole owners, they procured lumber and enclosed the reel, and very seldom took down the seine from its great round perch ; they used it just often enough to allay any suspicion as to their real object in becoming owners of the fishing imple- ments. About that time a story grew into general belief that the tomb of Lady Fenwick was haunted. Boat- men, passing in the stillness of the solemn night David Bushuell and His American Turtle, hours, asserted that they heard strange noises issuing from the hill, just where the lady slept in her lonely burial-place. The sounds seemed to emerge from the earth, and timid men passed up the river with every inch of sail set to catch the breeze, lest the solemn thud should sound, that a hundred persons were will- ing to testify had been heard by each and every one of them, at some hour of the night, coming from the tomb. One evening in late September, the two brothers started forth as usual, nominally to "go fishing." As they stepped down the bank, Mr. Bushnell followed them. "Boys," said he, "it's an uncommon fine night on the water. I believe I'll take a seat in your boat, with your permission. I used to like fishing myself when I was young and spry." "And leave mother alone ! " objected David. "She's been out with me many a night on the Sound. She's brave, and won't mind a good south- west wind, such as 1 dare say breaks in on the shore this minute. Go and call her." And so the family started forth to go fishing. This was a night the two brothers had been look- ing forward to during weeks of earnest labor, and now — well, it could not be helped, and there was not a moment in wliich to hold council. David Bushnell and His A?nerican Turtle, Mr. Bushnell had planned this surprise early in the day, but had not told his wife until evening. Then he announced his determination to "learn what all these midnight and all-night absences did mean." As the Lady Fenwick came out from the Pochaug River into the Sound, the south-west wind brought crested waves to shore, the wind was increasing, and, to the great relief of David and Ezra, Mr. Bushnell gave the order to turn back into the river. The next day David Bushnell asked his mother whether or not she knew the reason his father had proposed to go out with them the night before. " Yes, David," was the reply, " I do." " Will you tell me ? " " He does not believe that you and Ezra go fishing at all." " What do you believe about it, mother ? " "I believe myou^ David, and that when you have anything to tell to me, I shall be glad to listen." "And father does not trust me yet; I am sorry,'" said David, turning away. And then, as by a sudden impulse, he returned and said : " If you can trust me so entirely, mother, we can trust you. To-day two gentlemen will be here. You will please be ready to go out in the boat with us whenever they come.' David Bushiiell and His American Turtle. " Where to ? " " To my fishing ground, mother." The strangers arrived, were presented to Mrs. Bush- nell as Dr. Gale and his friend Mr. Franklin. At three of the clock the little family set ofi in the row-boat. Down at Pochaug harbor, there was Mr. Bushnell hallooing to them to be taken on board. " I saw my family starting on an unknown voyage," he remarked, as the boat approached the shore as nearly as it could, while he waded out to meet it. "Ah, Friend Gale, is that you?" as with dripping feet he stepped in. "And whither bound? " he ad- ded, dropping into a seat. "For the far and distant land of the unknown, Mr. Bushnell. Permit me to introduce you to my friend Mr. Franklin." " Franklin ! Franklin ! " exclaimed Mr. Bushnell, eyeing the stranger a little rudely. " Doctor Benjamin Franklin^ if you please^ Benjamin Gale ! " he corrected, to the utter amazement of the party. The oars missed the stroke, caught it again, and, for a minute, poor Doctor Franklin was confused by the sudden announcement of other folks that he ex- isted at all, and, in particular, in that small boat on the sea. "Yes, sir, even so," responded Dr. Gale, cheerfully David Bushnell and His American Turtle. adding, " and we're going down to see the new fish- ing tackle your son is going to catch the enemy's ships with." " Fishing tackle ! Enemy's ships ! Why, David is the laziest man in all Saybrook town. He does nothing with his first summer but fish, fish all night long. The only stroke of honest work I've ever known him to do was to build this boat we're in." During this time the brothers were pulling with a will for the island. Arrived there, the boat was drawn up on the sand, the seine-house unlocked, and, when the light of day had been let into it, fishing-reel and seine had disap- peared, and, in the language of Doctor Benjamin Gale, this is what they found therein : " The body, when standing upright, in the position in which it is navigated, has the nearest resemblance to the two upper shells of the tortoise, joined together. It is seven and a half feet long, and six feet high. The person who navigates it enters at the top. It has a brass top or cover which receives the person's head, as he sits on a seat, and is fastened on the inside by screws. " On this brass head are fixed eight glasses, viz : two before, two on each side, one behind, and one to look out upwards. On the same brass head are fixed two brass tubes to admit fresh air when requisite, and a ventilator at the side, to free the machine from the air rendered unfit for respiration. " On the inside is fixed a barometer, by which he can tell the depth he is under water ; a compass by which he knows the course he steers. In the barometer, and on the needles of the David Bushuell and His American Turtle, compass, is fixed fox-fire — that is, wood that gives light in the dark. His ballast consists of about nine hundred-weight of lead, which he carries at the bottom and on the outside of the machine, part of which is so fixed as he can let run down to the bottom, and serves as an anchor by which he can ride ad lib- itum. " He has a sounding lead fixed at the bow, by which he can take the depth of water under him, and a forcing-pump by which he can free the machine at pleasure, and can rise above water, and again immerge, as occasion requires. " In the bow he has a pair of oars fixed like the two opposite arms of a windmill, with which he can row forward, and, turning them the opposite way, row the machine backward ; another pair, fixed upon the same model, with which he can row the ma- chine round, either to the right or left ; and a third by which he can row the machine either up or down; all of which are turned by foot, like a spinning wheel. The rudder by which he steers he manages by hand, within-board. " All these shafts which pass through the machine are so curi- ously fixed as not to admit any water. " The magazine for the powder is carried on the hinder part of the machine, without-board, and so contrived that, when he comes under the side of the ship, he rubs down the side until he comes to the keel, and a hook so fixed as that when it touches the keel it raises a spring which frees the magazine from the machine, and fastens it to the side of the ship ; at the same time it draws a pin, which sets the watch-work a-going, which, at a given time, springs the lock, and an explosion ensues." Thus wrote Dr. Benjamin Gale to Silas Deane, member of the Congress at Philadelphia. His letter bears the date, November 9, 1775, and, after describ- ing the wonderful machine, he adds : " I well know the man. Lately he has conducted matters with the greatest secrecy, both for the personal safety of the naviga- tor, and to produce the greater astonishment to those against David Bushnell and His American Turtle, whom it is desiemed j and, you may call me a visionary, an en- thusiast, or whai you please, I do insist upon it that I beiieve the inspiration of the Almighty has given him understanding for this Very purpose ar d design." When the seine-house door had been fastened open, ana Dr. Franklin and Dr. Gale had gone within, followed by the two brothers, Mr. Bushnell and his wife stood without looking in, and wondering in their hearts what the sight they saw could mean ; for, of the intent or purpose of the curious, oaken, iron-bound, many-paddled, brass-headed, window-lighted thing, they, it must be remembered, knew nothing. It must mean something extraordinary, of course, or Doctor Franklin would never have thought it worth his while to come out of his way to behold it. "Father," whispered Mrs. Bushnell, "it's the /^^ David has been all summer catching." " Fish 1 " ejaculated Mr. Bushnell, " it's more like a turtle." " That's good I " spoke up Dr. Gale, from within. "Turtle it shall be." " It is the first sub-marine boat ever made I A grand idea, wrought into substance," slowly pronounced Dr. Franklin; "let us have it forth into the river." "And run the risk of discovery.?" suggested Da- vid, pleased that his work approved itself to the man of science. David Bushnell and His American Turtle, " We meant to try it last night, but failed," said Ezra Bushnel:. " There, now, father, don't you wish we had staid at home ? " whispered Mrs. Bushnell. " No ! " growled the father. " They would have killed themselves getting it down alone." He stepped within and laid his hand on the ma- chine, saying: " Anna, you keep watch, and, if any boat heaves in sight, let us know. Does the Turtle snap, David t " he questioned, putting forth his hand and laying it cautiously upon the animal. " Never, until the word is given," replied the son, and then ten strong hands applied the strength within them to lift the curious piece of mechanism and carry it without. The seine-house was close to the river-bank, and, in a half hour's time, the American Turtle was in its na- tive element. Madam Anna Bushnell kept strict watch over the shores and the river, but not a sail slid into sight, not an oar troubled the waters of the tide, as it tossed back the tumble of the down-flowing river. It was a hard duty for the mother to perform ; for, at a glance toward the bank, she saw David step into the machine, and the brass cover close down over his David Bushnell and His American Turtle, head. She felt suffocating fears for him, as, at last, the thing began to move into the stream. She saw it go out, she saw it slowly sinking, going down out of sight, until even the brass head was submerged. Then she forsook her post, and hastened to the bank to keep watch with the rest. One, two, three minutes went by. The men looked at the surface of the waters, at each other, grew thoughtful, pale ; the mother gasped and dropped on the salt grass, fainting; the brother gave to Lady Fenwick a running push, bounded on board, and clutched the oars to row swiftly to the spot where David went down. Mr. Bushnell filled his hat with water, and sprink- led the pale face in the sedge. ^^ There f there /^^ cried Dr. Franklin, with distended eyes and eager outlook. " Where 1 where V^ ejaculated Dr. Gale, striving to take into vision the whole surface of the river, at a glance. " It's all right! He's coming \x^ plump T' shouted Ezra, from his boat, as he rowed with speed for the spot where a brass tube was rising, sun-burnished, from the Connecticut. Presently the brass head, with its very small win- dows, emerged, even the oaken sides were rising, — David Bushnell and His American Turtle, and Mr. Bushnell was greeting the returning con- sciousness of his wife with the words : " It's all right, mother. David is safe." " Don't let him know," were the first words she spoke, " that his own mother was so faithless as to doubt ! " And now, paddle, paddle, toward the river-bank came the Turtle, David Bushnell's head rising out of its shell, proud confidence shining forth from his eyes, as feet and hands busied themselves in navigating the boat that had lived for months in his brain, and now was living, in very substance, under his control. As he neared the bank a shout of acclamation greeted him. He reached the island, was fairly dragged forth from his seat, and carried up to the spot where his mother sat, trying to overcome every trace of past doubt and fear. "Now," said Dr. Gale, "let us give thanks unto Him who hath given this youth understanding to do this great work." With bared heads and devout hearts the thanksgiv- ing went upward, and thereafter a perfect shower of questions pelted David Bushnell concerning his device to blow up ships : how he came to think of it at all — where he got this idea and that as to it's construction David Bushnell and His American Turtle. — to all of which he simply said : " You'll find your answer in the prayer you've just 9ffered/" "But," said practical Mr. Bushnell, " the Lord did not send you money to buy oak and iron and brass, did he ? " "Yes," returned David, "by the hand of my good friend. Dr. Gale. To him belongs half the victor}\" " Pshaw ! pshaw ! " impatiently uttered the doctor. " I tell you it is no such thing/ I only advanced My Lady here," turning to Madam Bushnell, " a little money, on her promise to pay me at some future time. I'm mightily ashamed now that I took the promise at all. Madam Bushnell, I'll never take a penny of it back again, never, as long as I live. I will have a little of the credit of this achievement, and no one shall hinder me." " How is that, mother ? " questioned Mr. Bushnell. " You borrow money and not tell me ! " and David and Ezra looked at her. "I — I — " stammered forth the woman, " I only guessed that David was doing something that he wanted money for, and told Doctor Gale if he gave it to him I would repay it. Do you care, father ? " Before he had a chance to get an answer in, David Bushnell stepped forward, and, taking the little figure David Bushnell and His American Turtle, of his mother in his arms, kissed her sharply, and -valked away, to give some imaginary attention to the Turtle at the bank. " It is a fair land to work for ! " spoke up Doctor Franklin, looking about upon river and earth and sea ; ' worthy it is of our highest efforts ; of our lives, even, if need be. God give us strength as our need shall be." With many a tug and pull and hearty heave-ho, the Turtle was hoisted up the bank and safely drawn into the seine-house. The door was locked, and Lady Fenwick's tomb gave forth no sound that night. Doctor Franklin went his way to Boston. Doctor Gale returned to Killingworth and his waiting pa- tients, and the Bushnells, father, mother and sons, having put the two gentlemen on the Saybrook shore, went down the river into the Sound, along its edge, and up the small Pochaug to their own home by the sycamore tree. Mr. Bushnell and Ezra did the rowing that night. David's white hands had, somehow, a new radiance in them for his father's eyes, and did not seem exactly fitted for rowing just a common boat, and every-day oars. The young man sat in the stern, beside his mother, I David Bushnell and His Avierica7i Turtle, one arm around her waist, and the other clasped closely between her little palms, while, now and then, her finding eyes would penetrate his consciousness with the glance that seemed to say, " I always believed in you, David." DAVID BUSHNELL AND HIS AMERICAN TURTLE. ^-A-K,-!" II. IF you go to-day and stand upon the site of the old fort, built at the mouth of the Connecticut River, in the year 1635, ^Y Lion Gardiner, once engineer in the service of the Prince of Orange, and search the waters up and down for the island nn which David Bushnell built the American Turtle in 1775, you will not find it. If you seek the oldest inhabitant of Saybrook, and ask him to point out its locality, he will say, with boy- hood's fondness for olden play-grounds in his tone : "Ah, yes! It is Poverty Island that you mean. It used to be there, but spring freshets and beating storms have washed it away." The unexpected visit of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, to 13 David Bushnell and His American Turtle. see the machine David Bushnell was building, gave new force to that young gentleman's confidence in his own powers of invention. He worked with increased energy and hope to per- fect boat and magazine, that he might do good service with them before winter should fall on the waters of the Massachusetts Bay, where the hostile ships were lying. At last came the day wherein the final trial-trip should be made. The pumps built by Mr. Doolittle, but not according to order, had failed once, but new ones had been supplied, and everything seemed pro- pitious. David and Ezra, with their mother in the boat, rowed once more to Poverty Island. " On the morrow the great venture should begin," they said. The time was mid-October. The forests had wrapped the cooling coast in warmth of coloring that was soft and many-hued as the shawls of Cashmere, while the sun-made fringe of golden-rod fell along the shores of river and island and sea. Mrs. Bushnell's heart beat proudly above the fond affection that could not suppress a shiver, as the Tur- tle was pushed into the stream. She could not help seeing that David made a line fast from the seine- hcuse to his boat ere he went down. They watched many mmutes to see him rise to the surface, but he did not. David Bushnell and His American Turtle, " Mother," said Ezra, *' the pump for forcing water out when he wants to rise don't work, and we must pull him in. He feared it." As he spoke the words he laid hold on the line, and began gently to draw on it. " Hurry ! hurry ! do ! " cried Mrs. Bushnell, seiz- mg the same line close to the water's edge, and draw- ing on it with all her strength. She was vexed that Ezra had not told her the danger in the beginning, and she " knew very well that she would not have stood there and let David die of suffocation, in that horrid, brass-topped coffin ! " "Hold, mother! " cried Ezra; "pull gently, or the line may part on some barnacled rock if it gets caught." Nevertheless, Mrs. Bushnell pulled in as fast as she could. The tide was sweeping up the river, and a shark, in hard chase after a school of menhaden, swam steadily up, with fin out of water. Just as the shark reached the place, he made a dive, and the rope parted ! Mrs. Bushnell screamed a word or two of the ter- ror that had seized her. Ezra looked up, amazed to find the rope coming in so readily, hand over hand. He cast it down, sprang to the boat, and pushed off David Bushndl and His American Turtle. to the possible rescue, only to find that the Turtle was making for the river-bank instead of the island. He rowed to the spot. His brother, for the first time in his life, was overcome with disappointment and disinclined to talk. "I — I," said David, wiping his forehead. " I grew tired, and made for shore. The tide was taking me up fast." " Did you let go the line ? " questioned Ezra. "Yes." " The pump works all right, then ? " " Yes." " You've frightened mother terribly." " Have I ? I never thought. I forgot she was here. Let us get back, then ; " and the two brothers, without speaking a word, rowed down against the sweep of tide, the great Turtle in tow. The three went home, still keeping a silence broken only by briefest possible question and answer. The golden October night fell upon the old town. Pochaug River, its lone line of silver gathered in many a stretch of interval into which the moon looked calmly down, lay on the land for many a mile. Again and again, during the evening, David Bush- nell went out from the house and stood silently on the rough bridge that crossed the river by the door. David Bushnell and His American lurtU. " Let David alone, mother," urged Ezra, as she was about to follow him on one occasion. " He is think- ing out something, and is better alone." That which the young man was thinking at the mo- ment was, that he wished the moon would hurry and go down. He longed for darkness. The night was growing cold. Frost was in the air. As he stood on the rough logs, a post-rider, hurry- ing by with letters, came up. " Halloa there ! " he called aloud, not liking the looks of the man on the bridge. " It's I, ' — David Bushnell, Joe Downs ! You can ride by in safety," he responded, ringing out one of his merriest chimes of laughter at the very idea of being taken for a highwayman. " I've news," said Joe ; " want it ? " "Yes." Joe Downs opened his packet, and, by the light of the moon, found the letter he had referred to. " Dr. Gale told me not to fail to put this into your hands as I came by. I should kind o' judge, by the way he spoke, that the continent couldn't get along very well ^thout you, if I hadn't known a thing or two. Howsomever, here's the letter, and I've to jog on to Guilford afore the moon goes down. So good-night." David Bicshnell and His American Turtle. "Good night, Joe. Thank you for stopping," said David, going into the house. " Were you expecting that letter, David ? " ques- tioned Mr. Bushnell, when it had been read. *' No, sir. It is from Dr. Gale. He asks me to hasten matters as far as possible, but a new contriv- ance will have to go in before I am ready." " There ! Thafs what troubles him," thought both Mrs. Bushnell and Ezra, and they exchanged glances of sympathy and satisfaction — and the little house- hold went to sleep, quite care-free that night. At two of the clock, with nearly noiseless tread, David Bushnell left the house. As the door closed his mother moved uneasily in her sleep, and awoke with the sudden consciousness that something uncanny had happened. She looked from a window and saw, by the light of a low-lying moon, that David had gone out. Without awakening her husband she protected her- self with needful clothing, and, wrapped about in one of the curious plaid blankets of mingled blue and white, adorned with white fringe, that are yet to be found in the land, she followed into the night. Save for the sleepy tinkle of the water over the stones in the Pochaug River, and an occasional cry of a night-bird still lingering by the sea, the air was -^'.r. ^■\ 1 ^^<^. O- v^ x'^'■% ~'','-*^ %< .^^' ^> \ ^^. v^^ x^^. o_ f^- ■:■:.-, "o^ O ^ « X .V v^^ ,0^^%^^. % ^"^. ^^. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 011 782 298 9