The Voyage of the Rattletrap | Page 2

driving empty boxes and barrels, and old tin pails,
and wash-boilers, and castaway hats and runaway hats and lost hats,
and other things across the prairie before it, Jack came into my office,
where I was setting type (my printer having been blown away, along

with the boxes and the hats), and after he had allowed the rain to run
off his clothes and make little puddles like thin mud pies on the dusty
floor, he said:
[Illustration: The Voyage First Suggested]
"I'm tired of making poor cheeses."
"Well," I answered, "I'm tired of printing a poor newspaper."
"Let's sell out and go somewhere," continued Jack.
"All right," I said. "Let's."
So we did.
Of course the Rattletrap wasn't a boat which sailed on the water, though
I don't know as I thought to mention this before. In fact, a water boat
wouldn't have been of any use to us in getting out of Prairie Flower,
because there wasn't any water there, except a very small stream called
the Big Sioux River, which wandered along the prairie, sometimes
running in one direction and sometimes in the other, and at other times
standing still and wondering if it was worth while to run at all. The port
of Prairie Flower was in Dakota. This was when Dakota was still a
Territory, three or four years, perhaps, before it was cut into halves and
made into two States. So, there being no water, we of course had to
provide ourselves with a craft that could navigate dry land; which is
precisely what the Rattletrap was-namely, a "prairie schooner."
"I've got a team of horses and a wagon," went on Jack, that rainy night
when we were talking. "You've got a pony and a saddle. We've both got
guns. When we drive out of town some stray dog will follow us. What
more 'll we want?"
"Nothing," I said, as I clapped my stick down in the space-box. "We
can put a canvas cover on the wagon and sleep in it at night, and cook
our meals over a camp-fire, and--and--have a time."

"Of course--a big time. It's a heavy spring-wagon, and there is just
about room in it behind the seat for a bed. We can put on a cover that
will keep out rain as well as a tent, and carry a little kerosene-oil stove
to use for cooking if we can't build a fire out-doors for any reason. We
can take along flour, and-and--and salt, and other things to eat, and
shoot game, and--and--and have a time."
We became so excited that we sat down and talked till midnight about
it. By this time the rain had stopped, and when we went out the stars
were shining, and the level ground was covered with pools of water.
"If it was always as wet as this around here we could go in a genuine
schooner," said Jack.
"Yes, that's so. But what shall we call our craft?"
"I think 'Rattletrap' would be a good name," said Jack.
"I don't think it's a very pretty name," I replied.
"You wait till you get acquainted with that wagon, and you will say it's
the best name in the world, whether it's pretty or not. You don't know
that wagon yet. The tongue is spliced, the whiffletrees are loose, the
reach is cracked, the box is tied together with a rope, the springs creak,
the wheels wabble, lean different ways, and never follow one another."
"Do they all turn in the same direction?" I asked.
"I don't believe they do. It would be just like one to turn backward
while the other three were going forward."
"We'll call our craft the Rattletrap, then. Good-night."
"Good-night," said Jack; and we parted, each to dream of our
approaching cruise.
[Illustration: Preparations]
In a week we were busy getting ready to start. I found, when I looked

over the wagon as it stood back of the cheese-factory, that it was much
as Jack had described it, only I noticed that the seat as well as the
springs creaked, and that a corner was broken off the dash-board. But
we set to work upon it with a will. We tightened up the nuts and screws
all over it, and wound the broken pole with wire. We nailed together
the box so that the rope could be taken off, and oiled the creaking
springs. We had no trouble in finding a top, as half the people in the
country had come in wagons provided with covers only a year or so
before. We got four bows and attached them to the box, one at each end,
and the other two at equal distances between. These bows were made of
hard-wood, and were a quarter of an inch thick and an inch and