GEORGE IS INTRODUCED TO WORK. - HEATHENISH INSTINCTS OF TOW-LINES. -UNGRATEFUL CONDUCT OF A DOUBLE-SCULLING SKIFF. - TOWERS AND TOWED. - AUSE DISCOVERED FOR LOVERS. - STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE1 OF AN ELDERLY LADY. -MUCH HASTE, LESS SPEED. - BEING TOWED BY GIRLS: EXCITING SENSATION. - THEMISSING LOCK OR THE HAUNTED RIVER. - MUSIC. - SAVED!
WE made George work, now we had got him. He did not want to work, ofcourse; that goes without saying. He had had a hard time in the City, sohe explained. Harris, who is callous2 in his nature, and not prone3 topity, said:
"Ah! and now you are going to have a hard time on the river for a change;change is good for everyone. Out you get!"He could not in conscience - not even George's conscience - object,though he did suggest that, perhaps, it would be better for him to stopin the boat, and get tea ready, while Harris and I towed, because gettingtea was such a worrying work, and Harris and I looked tired. The onlyreply we made to this, however, was to pass him over the tow-line, and hetook it, and stepped out.
There is something very strange and unaccountable about a tow-line. Youroll it up with as much patience and care as you would take to fold up anew pair of trousers, and five minutes afterwards, when you pick it up,it is one ghastly, soul-revolting tangle5.
I do not wish to be insulting, but I firmly believe that if you took anaverage tow-line, and stretched it out straight across the middle of afield, and then turned your back on it for thirty seconds, that, when youlooked round again, you would find that it had got itself altogether in aheap in the middle of the field, and had twisted itself up, and tieditself into knots, and lost its two ends, and become all loops; and itwould take you a good half-hour, sitting down there on the grass andswearing all the while, to disentangle it again.
That is my opinion of tow-lines in general. Of course, there may behonourable exceptions; I do not say that there are not. There may betow-lines that are a credit to their profession - conscientious,respectable tow-lines - tow-lines that do not imagine they are crochet-work, and try to knit themselves up into antimacassars the instant theyare left to themselves. I say there MAY be such tow-lines; I sincerelyhope there are. But I have not met with them.
This tow-line I had taken in myself just before we had got to the lock.
I would not let Harris touch it, because he is careless. I had looped itround slowly and cautiously, and tied it up in the middle, and folded itin two, and laid it down gently at the bottom of the boat. Harris hadlifted it up scientifically, and had put it into George's hand. Georgehad taken it firmly, and held it away from him, and had begun to unravelit as if he were taking the swaddling clothes off a new-born infant; and,before he had unwound a dozen yards, the thing was more like a badly-madedoor-mat than anything else.
It is always the same, and the same sort of thing always goes on inconnection with it. The man on the bank, who is trying to disentangleit, thinks all the fault lies with the man who rolled it up; and when aman up the river thinks a thing, he says it.
"What have you been trying to do with it, make a fishing-net of it?
You've made a nice mess you have; why couldn't you wind it up properly,you silly dummy6?" he grunts7 from time to time as he struggles wildly withit, and lays it out flat on the tow-path, and runs round and round it,trying to find the end.
On the other hand, the man who wound it up thinks the whole cause of themuddle rests with the man who is trying to unwind it.
"It was all right when you took it!" he exclaims indignantly. "Why don'tyou think what you are doing? You go about things in such a slap-dashstyle. You'd get a scaffolding pole entangled8 you would!"And they feel so angry with one another that they would like to hang eachother with the thing.
Ten minutes go by, and the first man gives a yell and goes mad, anddances on the rope, and tries to pull it straight by seizing hold of thefirst piece that comes to his hand and hauling at it. Of course, thisonly gets it into a tighter tangle than ever. Then the second man climbsout of the boat and comes to help him, and they get in each other's way,and hinder one another. They both get hold of the same bit of line, andpull at it in opposite directions, and wonder where it is caught. In theend, they do get it clear, and then turn round and find that the boat hasdrifted off, and is making straight for the weir9.
This really happened once to my own knowledge. It was up by Boveney, onerather windy morning. We were pulling down stream, and, as we came roundthe bend, we noticed a couple of men on the bank. They were looking ateach other with as bewildered and helplessly miserable10 expression as Ihave ever witnessed on any human countenance11 before or since, and theyheld a long tow-line between them. It was clear that something hadhappened, so we eased up and asked them what was the matter.
"Why, our boat's gone off!" they replied in an indignant tone. "We justgot out to disentangle the tow-line, and when we looked round, it wasgone!"And they seemed hurt at what they evidently regarded as a mean andungrateful act on the part of the boat.
We found the truant12 for them half a mile further down, held by somerushes, and we brought it back to them. I bet they did not give thatboat another chance for a week.
I shall never forget the picture of those two men walking up and down thebank with a tow-line, looking for their boat.
One sees a good many funny incidents up the river in connection withtowing. One of the most common is the sight of a couple of towers,walking briskly along, deep in an animated13 discussion, while the man inthe boat, a hundred yards behind them, is vainly shrieking14 to them tostop, and making frantic15 signs of distress16 with a scull. Something hasgone wrong; the rudder has come off, or the boat-hook has slippedoverboard, or his hat has dropped into the water and is floating rapidlydown stream.
He calls to them to stop, quite gently and politely at first.
"Hi! stop a minute, will you?" he shouts cheerily. "I've dropped my hatover-board."Then: "Hi! Tom - Dick! can't you hear?" not quite so affably this time.
Then: "Hi! Confound YOU, you dunder-headed idiots! Hi! stop! Oh you -!"After that he springs up, and dances about, and roars himself red in theface, and curses everything he knows. And the small boys on the bankstop and jeer18 at him, and pitch stones at him as he is pulled along pastthem, at the rate of four miles an hour, and can't get out.
Much of this sort of trouble would be saved if those who are towing wouldkeep remembering that they are towing, and give a pretty frequent lookround to see how their man is getting on. It is best to let one persontow. When two are doing it, they get chattering19, and forget, and theboat itself, offering, as it does, but little resistance, is of no realservice in reminding them of the fact.
As an example of how utterly20 oblivious21 a pair of towers can be to theirwork, George told us, later on in the evening, when we were discussingthe subject after supper, of a very curious instance.
He and three other men, so he said, were sculling a very heavily ladenboat up from Maidenhead one evening, and a little above Cookham lock theynoticed a fellow and a girl, walking along the towpath, both deep in anapparently interesting and absorbing conversation. They were carrying aboat-hook between them, and, attached to the boat-hook was a tow-line,which trailed behind them, its end in the water. No boat was near, noboat was in sight. There must have been a boat attached to that tow-lineat some time or other, that was certain; but what had become of it, whatghastly fate had overtaken it, and those who had been left in it, wasburied in mystery. Whatever the accident may have been, however, it hadin no way disturbed the young lady and gentleman, who were towing. Theyhad the boat-hook and they had the line, and that seemed to be all thatthey thought necessary to their work.
George was about to call out and wake them up, but, at that moment, abright idea flashed across him, and he didn't. He got the hitcherinstead, and reached over, and drew in the end of the tow-line; and theymade a loop in it, and put it over their mast, and then they tidied upthe sculls, and went and sat down in the stern, and lit their pipes.
And that young man and young woman towed those four hulking chaps and aheavy boat up to Marlow.
George said he never saw so much thoughtful sadness concentrated into oneglance before, as when, at the lock, that young couple grasped the ideathat, for the last two miles, they had been towing the wrong boat.
George fancied that, if it had not been for the restraining influence ofthe sweet woman at his side, the young man might have given way toviolent language.
The maiden22 was the first to recover from her surprise, and, when she did,she clasped her hands, and said, wildly:
"Oh, Henry, then WHERE is auntie?""Did they ever recover the old lady?" asked Harris.
George replied he did not know.
Another example of the dangerous want of sympathy between tower and towedwas witnessed by George and myself once up near Walton. It was where thetow-path shelves gently down into the water, and we were camping on theopposite bank, noticing things in general. By-and-by a small boat camein sight, towed through the water at a tremendous pace by a powerfulbarge horse, on which sat a very small boy. Scattered23 about the boat, indreamy and reposeful24 attitudes, lay five fellows, the man who wassteering having a particularly restful appearance.
"I should like to see him pull the wrong line," murmured George, as theypassed. And at that precise moment the man did it, and the boat rushedup the bank with a noise like the ripping up of forty thousand linensheets. Two men, a hamper26, and three oars17 immediately left the boat onthe larboard side, and reclined on the bank, and one and a half momentsafterwards, two other men disembarked from the starboard, and sat downamong boat-hooks and sails and carpet-bags and bottles. The last manwent on twenty yards further, and then got out on his head.
This seemed to sort of lighten the boat, and it went on much easier, thesmall boy shouting at the top of his voice, and urging his steed into agallop. The fellows sat up and stared at one another. It was someseconds before they realised what had happened to them, but, when theydid, they began to shout lustily for the boy to stop. He, however, wastoo much occupied with the horse to hear them, and we watched them,flying after him, until the distance hid them from view.
I cannot say I was sorry at their mishap27. Indeed, I only wish that allthe young fools who have their boats towed in this fashion - and plentydo - could meet with similar misfortunes. Besides the risk they runthemselves, they become a danger and an annoyance28 to every other boatthey pass. Going at the pace they do, it is impossible for them to getout of anybody else's way, or for anybody else to get out of theirs.
Their line gets hitched29 across your mast, and overturns you, or itcatches somebody in the boat, and either throws them into the water, orcuts their face open. The best plan is to stand your ground, and beprepared to keep them off with the butt-end of a mast.
Of all experiences in connection with towing, the most exciting is beingtowed by girls. It is a sensation that nobody ought to miss. It takesthree girls to tow always; two hold the rope, and the other one runsround and round, and giggles30. They generally begin by getting themselvestied up. They get the line round their legs, and have to sit down on thepath and undo31 each other, and then they twist it round their necks, andare nearly strangled. They fix it straight, however, at last, and startoff at a run, pulling the boat along at quite a dangerous pace. At theend of a hundred yards they are naturally breathless, and suddenly stop,and all sit down on the grass and laugh, and your boat drifts out to mid-stream and turns round, before you know what has happened, or can gethold of a scull. Then they stand up, and are surprised.
"Oh, look!" they say; "he's gone right out into the middle."They pull on pretty steadily32 for a bit, after this, and then it all atonce occurs to one of them that she will pin up her frock, and they easeup for the purpose, and the boat runs aground.
You jump up, and push it off, and you shout to them not to stop.
"Yes. What's the matter?" they shout back.
"Don't stop," you roar.
"Don't what?""Don't stop - go on - go on!""Go back, Emily, and see what it is they want," says one; and Emily comesback, and asks what it is.
"What do you want?" she says; "anything happened?"" No," you reply, "it's all right; only go on, you know - don't stop.""Why not?""Why, we can't steer25, if you keep stopping. You must keep some way onthe boat.""Keep some what?""Some way - you must keep the boat moving.""Oh, all right, I'll tell `em. Are we doing it all right?""Oh, yes, very nicely, indeed, only don't stop.""It doesn't seem difficult at all. I thought it was so hard.""Oh, no, it's simple enough. You want to keep on steady at it, that'sall.""I see. Give me out my red shawl, it's under the cushion."You find the shawl, and hand it out, and by this time another one hascome back and thinks she will have hers too, and they take Mary's onchance, and Mary does not want it, so they bring it back and have apocket-comb instead. It is about twenty minutes before they get offagain, and, at the next corner, they see a cow, and you have to leave theboat to chivy the cow out of their way.
There is never a dull moment in the boat while girls are towing it.
George got the line right after a while, and towed us steadily on toPenton Hook. There we discussed the important question of camping. Wehad decided33 to sleep on board that night, and we had either to lay upjust about there, or go on past Staines. It seemed early to think aboutshutting up then, however, with the sun still in the heavens, and wesettled to push straight on for Runnymead, three and a half milesfurther, a quiet wooded part of the river, and where there is goodshelter.
We all wished, however, afterward4 that we had stopped at Penton Hook.
Three or four miles up stream is a trifle, early in the morning, but itis a weary pull at the end of a long day. You take no interest in thescenery during these last few miles. You do not chat and laugh. Everyhalf-mile you cover seems like two. You can hardly believe you are onlywhere you are, and you are convinced that the map must be wrong; and,when you have trudged34 along for what seems to you at least ten miles, andstill the lock is not in sight, you begin to seriously fear that somebodymust have sneaked35 it, and run off with it.
I remember being terribly upset once up the river (in a figurative sense,I mean). I was out with a young lady - cousin on my mother's side - andwe were pulling down to Goring36. It was rather late, and we were anxiousto get in - at least SHE was anxious to get in. It was half-past sixwhen we reached Benson's lock, and dusk was drawing on, and she began toget excited then. She said she must be in to supper. I said it was athing I felt I wanted to be in at, too; and I drew out a map I had withme to see exactly how far it was. I saw it was just a mile and a half tothe next lock - Wallingford - and five on from there to Cleeve.
"Oh, it's all right!" I said. "We'll be through the next lock beforeseven, and then there is only one more;" and I settled down and pulledsteadily away.
We passed the bridge, and soon after that I asked if she saw the lock.
She said no, she did not see any lock; and I said, "Oh!" and pulled on.
Another five minutes went by, and then I asked her to look again.
"No," she said; "I can't see any signs of a lock.""You - you are sure you know a lock, when you do see one?" I askedhesitatingly, not wishing to offend her.
The question did offend her, however, and she suggested that I had betterlook for myself; so I laid down the sculls, and took a view. The riverstretched out straight before us in the twilight37 for about a mile; not aghost of a lock was to be seen.
"You don't think we have lost our way, do you?" asked my companion.
I did not see how that was possible; though, as I suggested, we mighthave somehow got into the weir stream, and be making for the falls.
This idea did not comfort her in the least, and she began to cry. Shesaid we should both be drowned, and that it was a judgment38 on her forcoming out with me.
It seemed an excessive punishment, I thought; but my cousin thought not,and hoped it would all soon be over.
I tried to reassure39 her, and to make light of the whole affair. I saidthat the fact evidently was that I was not rowing as fast as I fancied Iwas, but that we should soon reach the lock now; and I pulled on foranother mile.
Then I began to get nervous myself. I looked again at the map. Therewas Wallingford lock, clearly marked, a mile and a half below Benson's.
It was a good, reliable map; and, besides, I recollected40 the lock myself.
I had been through it twice. Where were we? What had happened to us? Ibegan to think it must be all a dream, and that I was really asleep inbed, and should wake up in a minute, and be told it was past ten.
I asked my cousin if she thought it could be a dream, and she repliedthat she was just about to ask me the same question; and then we bothwondered if we were both asleep, and if so, who was the real one that wasdreaming, and who was the one that was only a dream; it got quiteinteresting.
I still went on pulling, however, and still no lock came in sight, andthe river grew more and more gloomy and mysterious under the gatheringshadows of night, and things seemed to be getting weird41 and uncanny. Ithought of hobgoblins and banshees, and will-o'-the-wisps, and thosewicked girls who sit up all night on rocks, and lure42 people into whirl-pools and things; and I wished I had been a better man, and knew morehymns; and in the middle of these reflections I heard the blessed strainsof "He's got `em on," played, badly, on a concertina, and knew that wewere saved.
I do not admire the tones of a concertina, as a rule; but, oh! howbeautiful the music seemed to us both then - far, far more beautiful thanthe voice of Orpheus or the lute43 of Apollo, or anything of that sortcould have sounded. Heavenly melody, in our then state of mind, wouldonly have still further harrowed us. A soul-moving harmony, correctlyperformed, we should have taken as a spirit-warning, and have given upall hope. But about the strains of "He's got `em on," jerkedspasmodically, and with involuntary variations, out of a wheezyaccordion, there was something singularly human and reassuring44.
The sweet sounds drew nearer, and soon the boat from which they wereworked lay alongside us.
It contained a party of provincial45 `Arrys and `Arriets, out for amoonlight sail. (There was not any moon, but that was not their fault.)I never saw more attractive, lovable people in all my life. I hailedthem, and asked if they could tell me the way to Wallingford lock; and Iexplained that I had been looking for it for the last two hours.
"Wallingford lock!" they answered. "Lor' love you, sir, that's been doneaway with for over a year. There ain't no Wallingford lock now, sir.
You're close to Cleeve now. Blow me tight if `ere ain't a gentleman beenlooking for Wallingford lock, Bill!"I had never thought of that. I wanted to fall upon all their necks andbless them; but the stream was running too strong just there to allow ofthis, so I had to content myself with mere46 cold-sounding words ofgratitude.
We thanked them over and over again, and we said it was a lovely night,and we wished them a pleasant trip, and, I think, I invited them all tocome and spend a week with me, and my cousin said her mother would be sopleased to see them. And we sang the soldiers' chorus out of FAUST, andgot home in time for supper, after all.
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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weir
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| n.堰堤，拦河坝 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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truant
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| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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reposeful
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| adj.平稳的，沉着的 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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giggles
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| n.咯咯的笑( giggle的名词复数 )；傻笑；玩笑；the giggles 止不住的格格笑v.咯咯地笑( giggle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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goring
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| v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破( gore的现在分词 ) | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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