In the Heart of the Rockies | Page 9

on
board--men, women, and children.
"Well," he said to himself, "I do think I am better fitted to make my
way out there than most of these people are, for they look as helpless
and confused as a flock of sheep. I pity those women with children. It
will be pretty crowded in our quarters, but there is a chance of getting a
fair night's sleep, while in a place crowded with babies and children it
would be awful."
Being a kind-hearted lad he at once set to work to help as far as he
could, volunteering to carry children down below, and to help with
boxes and bundles.
In many cases his assistance was thankfully accepted, but in some it
was sharply refused, the people's manner clearly showing their
suspicions of his motive. He was not surprised at this after all the
warnings Carry had given him against putting any confidence in
strangers, but was satisfied, after an hour's hard work, that he had
rendered things somewhat easier for many a worried and anxious

woman. It was getting dusk even on deck by the time he had finished.
"Thank you, lad," a man, who went up the companion ladder with him,
said as they stepped on to the deck. "You have done my missis a good
turn by taking care of those three young ones while we straightened up
a bit, and I saw you helping others too. You are the right sort, I can see.
There ain't many young chaps as puts themselves out of the way to do a
bit of kindness like that. My name is Bill Brown; what is yours?"
"Tom Wade. I had nothing to do, and was glad to be of a little help.
People who have never been on board ship before naturally feel
confused in such a crowd."
"Have you been to sea?"
"Not on a voyage, but I have lived at Portsmouth and have often been
on board troopships and men-of-war, so it does not seem so strange to
me."
"Are you by yourself, or have you friends with you?"
"I am alone," Tom replied. "I am going out to join an uncle in the
States."
"I have been across before," the man said. "I am a carpenter, and have
worked out there six months, and came home six weeks back to fetch
the others over. I have got a place, where I was working before, to go to
as soon as I land. It makes a lot of difference to a man."
"It does indeed," Tom agreed. "I know if I were going out without any
fixed object beyond taking the first work that came to hand, I should
not feel so easy and comfortable about it as I do now."
"I have got two or three of my mates on board who are going out on my
report of the place, and three families from my wife's village. She and
the youngsters have been staying with her old folk while I was away.
So we are a biggish party, and if you want anything done on the voyage
you have only got to say the word to me."

CHAPTER II
FINDING FRIENDS
The weather was fine, and Tom Wade found the voyage more pleasant
than he had expected. The port-holes were kept open all the way, and
the crowded quarters were less uncomfortable than would have been
the case had they encountered rough weather. There were some very
rough spirits among the party forward, but the great majority were quiet
men, and after the first night all talking and larking were sternly
repressed after the lights were out. The food was abundant, and
although some grumbled at the meat there was no real cause of
complaint. A rope across the deck divided the steerage passengers from
those aft, and as there were not much more than one-half the emigrants
aboard that the Parthia could carry, there was plenty of room on deck.
But few of the passengers suffered from sea-sickness, and the women
sat and chatted and sewed in little groups while the children played
about, and the men walked up and down or gathered forward and
smoked, while a few who had provided themselves with newspapers or
books sat in quiet corners and read. Tom was one of these, for he had
picked up a few books on the United States at second-hand bookstalls
at Portsmouth, and this prevented him from finding the voyage
monotonous. When indisposed to read he chatted with Brown the
carpenter and his mates, and sometimes getting a party of children
round him and telling them stories gathered from the books now
standing on the shelves in his room at Southsea. He was glad, however,
when the voyage was over; not because he was tired