Their
faces paled a little, but they assented with as good a grace as they
could. Harris wanted to cable his mother — thought it his duty
to do that, as he was all she had in this world — so, while he
attended to this, I went down to the longest and finest raft and hailed
the captain with a hearty "Ahoy, shipmate!"
which put us upon pleasant terms at once, and we entered upon business.
I said we were on a pedestrian tour to Heidelberg, and would like to
take passage with him. I said this partly through young Z, who spoke
German very well, and partly through Mr. X, who spoke it peculiarly.
I can understand German as well as the maniac that invented
it, but I talk it best through an interpreter.
The captain hitched
up his trousers, then shifted his quid thoughtfully. Presently he said
just what I was expecting he would say — that he had no license
to carry passengers, and therefore was afraid the law would be after
him in case the matter got noised about or any accident happened. So
I chartered the raft and the crew and took all the responsibilities
on myself.
With a rattling
song the starboard watch bent to their work and hove the cable short,
then got the anchor home, and our bark moved off with a stately stride,
and soon was bowling along at about two knots an hour.
Our party were
grouped amidships. At first the talk was a little gloomy, and ran mainly
upon the shortness of life, the uncertainty of it, the perils which
beset it, and the need and wisdom of being always prepared for the worst;
this shaded off into low-voiced references to the dangers of the deep,
and kindred matters; but as the gray east began to redden and the mysterious
solemnity and silence of the dawn to give place to the joy-songs of
the birds, the talk took a cheerier tone, and our spirits began to rise
steadily.
Germany, in the
summer, is the perfection of the beautiful, but nobody has understood,
and realized, and enjoyed the utmost possibilities of this soft and
peaceful beauty unless he has voyaged down the Neckar on a raft. The
motion of a raft is the needful motion; it is gentle, and gliding, and
smooth, and noiseless; it calms down all feverish activities, it soothes
to sleep all nervous hurry and impatience; under its restful influence
all the troubles and vexations and sorrows that harass the mind vanish
away, and existence becomes a dream, a charm, a deep and tranquil ecstasy.
How it contrasts with hot and perspiring pedestrianism, and dusty and
deafening railroad rush, and tedious jolting behind tired horses over
blinding white roads!
We went slipping
silently along, between the green and fragrant banks, with a sense of
pleasure and contentment that grew, and grew, all the time. Sometimes
the banks were overhung with thick masses of willows that wholly hid
the ground behind; sometimes we had noble hills on one hand, clothed
densely with foliage to their tops, and on the other hand open levels
blazing with poppies, or clothed in the rich blue of the corn-flower;
sometimes we drifted in the shadow of forests, and sometimes along the
margin of long stretches of velvety grass, fresh and green and bright,
a tireless charm to the eye. And the birds! — they were everywhere;
they swept back and forth across the river constantly, and their jubilant
music was never stilled.