MACHINE LEARNING WITH R COOKBOOK 2ND EDITION BHATIA

- FULL VERSION PDF

https://ebookultra.com/download/machine-learning-with-
r-cookbook-2nd-edition-bhatia/

★★★★★
4.7 out of 5.0 (20 reviews)

FULL VERSION PDF

Ebookultra.com
Machine Learning with R Cookbook 2nd Edition Bhatia

EBOOK

Available Formats

■ PDF eBook Study Guide Ebook

EXCLUSIVE 2025 ACADEMIC EDITION – LIMITED RELEASE

Available Instantly Access Library

 Collection Hightlights

Mastering Machine Learning with scikit learn 2nd edition

Gavin Hackeling

https://ebookultra.com/download/mastering-machine-learning-with-
scikit-learn-2nd-edition-gavin-hackeling/

Scala for Machine Learning Second Edition Patrick R.

Nicolas

https://ebookultra.com/download/scala-for-machine-learning-second-
edition-patrick-r-nicolas/

Machine Learning with R Expert Techniques for Predictive

Modeling to Solve All Your Data Analysis Problems 2nd
Edition Brett Lantz
https://ebookultra.com/download/machine-learning-with-r-expert-
techniques-for-predictive-modeling-to-solve-all-your-data-analysis-
problems-2nd-edition-brett-lantz/

A First Course in Machine Learning Chapman Hall CRC

Machine Learning Pattern Recognition 2nd Edition Simon
Rogers
https://ebookultra.com/download/a-first-course-in-machine-learning-
chapman-hall-crc-machine-learning-pattern-recognition-2nd-edition-
simon-rogers/
Machine Learning for Time Series Forecasting with Python
1st Edition Francesca Lazzeri

https://ebookultra.com/download/machine-learning-for-time-series-
forecasting-with-python-1st-edition-francesca-lazzeri/

Python Machine Learning By Example The Easiest Way to Get

into Machine Learning 1st Edition Yuxi (Hayden) Liu

https://ebookultra.com/download/python-machine-learning-by-example-
the-easiest-way-to-get-into-machine-learning-1st-edition-yuxi-
hayden-liu/

Bayesian reasoning and machine learning Barber D.

https://ebookultra.com/download/bayesian-reasoning-and-machine-
learning-barber-d/

Data Mining Practical Machine Learning Tools and

Techniques 2nd Edition Ian H. Witten

https://ebookultra.com/download/data-mining-practical-machine-
learning-tools-and-techniques-2nd-edition-ian-h-witten/

Python Machine Learning 1st Edition Wei-Meng Lee

https://ebookultra.com/download/python-machine-learning-1st-edition-
wei-meng-lee/
Machine Learning with R Cookbook
Second Edition

Analyze data and build predictive models

AshishSingh Bhatia

Yu-Wei, Chiu (David Chiu)

BIRMINGHAM - MUMBAI
Machine Learning
with R Cookbook
Second Edition
Copyright © 2017 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored

in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,
without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the
case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure
the accuracy of the information presented. However, the information
contained in this book is sold without warranty, either express or
implied. Neither the authors, nor Packt Publishing, and its dealers
and distributors will be held liable for any damages caused or alleged
to be caused directly or indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information

about all of the companies and products mentioned in this book by
the appropriate use of capitals. However, Packt Publishing cannot
guarantee the accuracy of this information.

First published: March 2015

Second edition: October 2017

Production reference: 1171017

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.
Livery Place
35 Livery Street
Birmingham
B3 2PB, UK.

ISBN 978-1-78728-439-5

www.packtpub.com
Credits
Authors
Copy Editor
AshishSingh Bhatia
Safis Editing
Yu-Wei, Chiu (David Chiu)

Reviewers
Project Coordinator

Ratanlal Mahanta

Saibal Dutta Kinjal Bari

Commissioning Editor Proofreader

Veena Pagare Safis Editing

Acquisition Editor Indexer

Divya Poojari Francy Puthiry

Content Development Editor Graphics

Trusha Shriyan Kirk D'Penha

Technical Editor Production Coordinator

Akash Patel Aparna Bhagat

About the Authors
AshishSingh Bhatia is a reader and learner at his core. He has more
than 11 years of rich experience in different IT sectors,
encompassing training, development, and management. He has
worked in many domains, such as software development, ERP,
banking, and training. He is passionate about Python and Java, and
recently he has been exploring R. He is mostly involved in web and
mobile developments in various capacity. He always likes to explore
new technologies and share his views and thoughts through various
online medium and magazines. He believes in sharing his experience
with new generation and do take active part in training and teaching
also.

First and foremost, I would like to thank God almighty. I would like
to thank my father, mother, brother and friends. I am also thankful to
whole team at PacktPub especially Divya and Trusha. My special
thanks go to my mother Smt. Ravindrakaur Bhatia for guiding and
motivating me when its required most. I also want to take this
opportunity to show my gratitude for Mitesh Soni, he is the one who
introduced me to Packt and started the ball rolling.

Thanks to all who are directly or indirectly involved in this

endeavor.

Yu-Wei, Chiu (David Chiu) is the founder of LargitData Company.

He has previously worked for Trend Micro as a software engineer,
with the responsibility of building up big data platforms for business
intelligence and customer relationship management systems. In
addition to being a startup entrepreneur and data scientist, he
specializes in using Spark and Hadoop to process big data and apply
data mining techniques to data analysis. Yu-Wei is also a
professional lecturer, and has delivered talks on Python, R, Hadoop,
and tech talks at a variety of conferences.

In 2013, Yu-Wei reviewed Bioinformatics with R Cookbook, a book

compiled for Packt Publishing.

He feels immense gratitude to his family and friends for supporting

and encouraging him to complete this book. Here, he sincerely says
thanks to his mother, Ming-Yang Huang (Miranda Huang); his
mentor, Man-Kwan Shan; proofreader of this book, Brendan Fisher;
Taiwan R User Group; Data Science Program (DSP); and more
friends who have offered their support.
About the Reviewers
Ratanlal Mahanta has several years of experience in the modeling
and simulation of quantitative trading. He works as a senior
quantitative analyst at GPSK Investment Group, Kolkata. Ratanlal
holds a master's degree of science in computational finance, and his
research areas include quant trading, optimal Execution, Machine
Learning and high-frequency trading.

He has also reviewed Mastering R for Quantitative Finance,

Mastering Scientific Computing with R, Machine Learning with R
Cookbook, and Mastering Python for Data Science and Building a
Recommendation System with R all by Packt Publishing.

Saibal Dutta has been working as analytical consultant in SAS

Research and Development. He is also pursuing PhD in data mining
and machine learning from Indian Institute of Technology,
Kharagpur. He holds Master of Technology in electronics and
communication from National Institute of Technology, Rourkela. He
has worked at TATA communications, Pune and HCL Technologies
Limited, Noida, as a consultant. In his 7 years of consulting
experience, he has been associated with global players such as IKEA
(in Sweden), Pearson (in the U.S.), and so on. His passion for
entrepreneurship has led him to start his own start-up in the field of
data analytics, which is in the bootstrapping stage. His areas of
expertise include data mining, machine learning, image processing,
and business consultation.

I would like to thank my advisor, Prof. Sujoy Bhattacharya, all my

colleagues specially, Ashwin Deokar, Lokesh Nagar, Savita Angadi,
Swarup De and my family and friends specially, Madhuparna Bit for
their encouragement, support, and inspiration.
www.PacktPub.com
For support files and downloads related to your book, please visit ww
w.PacktPub.com. Did you know that Packt offers eBook versions of
every book published, with PDF and ePub files available? You can
upgrade to the eBook version at www.PacktPub.com and as a print book
customer, you are entitled to a discount on the eBook copy. Get in
touch with us at [email protected] for more details. At www.PacktPu
b.com, you can also read a collection of free technical articles, sign up
for a range of free newsletters and receive exclusive discounts and
offers on Packt books and eBooks.

https://www.packtpub.com/mapt

Get the most in-demand software skills with Mapt. Mapt gives you
full access to all Packt books and video courses, as well as industry-
leading tools to help you plan your personal development and
advance your career.
Why subscribe?
Fully searchable across every book published by Packt
Copy and paste, print, and bookmark content
On demand and accessible via a web browser
Customer Feedback
Thanks for purchasing this Packt book. At Packt, quality is at the
heart of our editorial process. To help us improve, please leave us an
honest review on this book's Amazon page at https://www.amazon.com/d
p/1787284395.

If you'd like to join our team of regular reviewers, you can email us
at [email protected]. We award our regular reviewers with
free eBooks and videos in exchange for their valuable feedback.
Help us be relentless in improving our products!
Table of Contents
Preface
What this book covers
What you need for this book
Who this book is for
Sections
Getting ready
How to do it…
How it works…
There's more…
See also
Conventions
Reader feedback
Customer support
Downloading the example code
Errata
Piracy
Questions
1. Practical Machine Learning with R
Introduction
Downloading and installing R
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Downloading and installing RStudio
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Installing and loading packages
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Understanding of basic data structures
 Data types
Data structures
Vectors
How to do it...
How it works...
Lists
How to do it...
How it works...
Array
How to do it...
How it works...
Matrix
How to do it...
DataFrame
How to do it...
Basic commands for subsetting
How to do it...
Data input
Reading and writing data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Manipulating data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Applying basic statistics
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Visualizing data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Getting a dataset for machine learning
 Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
2. Data Exploration with Air Quality Datasets
Introduction
Using air quality dataset
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Converting attributes to factor
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Detecting missing values
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Imputing missing values
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Exploring and visualizing data
Getting ready
How to do it...
Predicting values from datasets
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
3. Analyzing Time Series Data
Introduction
Looking at time series data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
 Plotting and forecasting time series data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Extracting, subsetting, merging, filling, and padding
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Successive differences and moving averages
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Exponential smoothing
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Plotting the autocorrelation function
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
4. R and Statistics
Introduction
Understanding data sampling in R
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Operating a probability distribution in R
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Working with univariate descriptive statistics in R
Getting ready
 How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Performing correlations and multivariate analysis
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Conducting an exact binomial test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Performing a student's t-test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Performing the Kolmogorov-Smirnov test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Understanding the Wilcoxon Rank Sum and Signed Rank test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Working with Pearson's Chi-squared test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Conducting a one-way ANOVA
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Performing a two-way ANOVA
 Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
5. Understanding Regression Analysis
Introduction
Different types of regression
Fitting a linear regression model with lm
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Summarizing linear model fits
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Using linear regression to predict unknown values
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Generating a diagnostic plot of a fitted model
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Fitting multiple regression
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Summarizing multiple regression
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Using multiple regression to predict unknown values
Getting ready
How to do it...
 How it works...
See also
Fitting a polynomial regression model with lm
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Fitting a robust linear regression model with rlm
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Studying a case of linear regression on SLID data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Applying the Gaussian model for generalized linear regression
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Applying the Poisson model for generalized linear regression
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Applying the Binomial model for generalized linear regression
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Fitting a generalized additive model to data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Visualizing a generalized additive model
Getting ready
 How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Diagnosing a generalized additive model
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
6. Survival Analysis
Introduction
Loading and observing data
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Viewing the summary of survival analysis
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Visualizing the Survival Curve
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Using the log-rank test
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Using the COX proportional hazard model
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
Nelson-Aalen Estimator of cumulative hazard
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
7. Classification 1 - Tree, Lazy, and Probabilistic
Introduction
Preparing the training and testing datasets
 Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
There's more...
Building a classification model with recursive partitioning trees
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Visualizing a recursive partitioning tree
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Measuring the prediction performance of a recursive partitioning tree
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Pruning a recursive partitioning tree
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Handling missing data and split and surrogate variables
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Building a classification model with a conditional inference tree
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Control parameters in conditional inference trees
Getting ready
How to do it...
How it works...
See also
Other documents randomly have
different content
she figured out, as well as she could, how long it ought to take a
letter to go from London to New Zealand, and how long for the reply
to come to America.
“Well,” she continued, “Kit will find things very much improved
here when he comes home. I never saw the old place look so well. If
only he could stay here longer to enjoy it! He works and works to
keep a comfortable home for us, and then never can stay in it more
than a few days at a time. But you must be off to school, Vieve; and
don’t forget to put on your overshoes, the streets are so muddy. I
don’t know how many times I have told you to go and buy a new
pair, but you go on wearing those old things, full of holes. You’ll
catch your death of cold.”
“I don’t need new ones, mother,” Vieve replied. “They don’t grow
on the trees, you know, and all these things cost money. I’m not
going to be spending all of Kit’s money for my clothes.”
“You foolish child, don’t you know that he always likes to buy
things for you? He’d rather get new clothes for you than for himself.”
“I know it, mother,” Vieve answered. “He slipped some money into
my hand last time he was home, you know, and told me to buy
something for myself. But I’m not going to do it; I’d rather save it;
you know what for.”
“You don’t want your father to come home and find that you’ve
died of diphtheria, do you?” Mrs. Silburn asked. “Well, you must
have your own way about it, I suppose. Stop at the butcher’s when
you come home at noon, Vieve, and get a slice of ham—not a very
thick slice. There are two or three eggs left, and that will do for our
dinner.”
It was as well that Kit could not see the pinching little ways at
home, or he would have worried over it. It was something new for
the Silburn family to live in this way, for Kit’s father had always made
good pay, and insisted upon the wife and children having plenty of
everything. But when he disappeared there came a change, and
there were grave doubts for a time whether Mrs. Silburn could make
both ends meet, even with the most rigid economy. Then Kit began
to earn a little; but although nearly every cent of his went to his
mother, she was determined that every cent of his little savings
should be set aside for his future use. It was only when there
seemed a slight possibility of her husband’s being alive that she
consented to use some of his money to repair and paint the house
and pay the last of the indebtedness upon it. Her own small income
barely sufficed to buy the plainest food. There was always, now,
some of Kit’s money in the house; but of their own, as they called it,
money that they were willing to spend, they were often reduced to
two or three dollars.
Not long after the receipt of Kit’s letter, Vieve once more waved a
white envelope as she descended the hill from the post-office, and
this proved to be the long-expected answer from the consul in New
Zealand. Mrs. Silburn turned it over and over many times, and
examined the address and the postmarks and the strange stamp on
the corner, before she could raise courage to open it. It was
addressed to “Christopher Silburn, Esq.,” as it was in answer to his
letter; and her agitation was so great that she was half inclined to
make this a pretext for letting it stand unopened until Kit returned.
“Why, mother,” Vieve urged, “you know that was all arranged. He
said the answer would be addressed to him, but that we should
open it just the same. He would think we took no interest in it if we
didn’t open it.”
“No, Kit couldn’t think that!” Mrs. Silburn declared; “he knows us
too well for that.”
With trembling hand she cut off the end of the envelope with her
scissors; but that was as far as she could go. That letter was
destined, probably, either to overwhelm them with joy or fill them
with grief; and she could not bring herself to look at it.
“Here, you read it,” she said, handing it, still in its envelope, to
Vieve. “My hands shake so I can hardly hold it.”
Vieve quickly took out the letter and unfolded it.

U. S. Consulate, Wellington, N. Z. [she read].

Christopher Silburn, Esq., Huntington, Conn.
 Dear Sir:—Your letter in regard to the supposed
American sailor in the hospital in this place was duly
received, and I have made such investigations as the
data you supplied made possible. I also secured the
services of a physician to compare the unfortunate
man with your description, thinking that his larger
experience in such matters would give his opinion
greater value than my own.
But I regret that with all these inquiries my answer
must still leave you in doubt whether this man is your
father or not. We imagine that there is a slight scar
upon the left temple, but it is so indistinct, if there
really is one, that we think it hardly corresponds with
the one you describe. Still we are not prepared to say
definitely that it does not.
This man’s height is about five feet nine and a half
inches, and you say your father was 5, 10½. But he
stoops so much that it is difficult to get his height
correctly, and he may in better days have been 5,
10½. We are not prepared to either say that his eyes
are brown; they are a sort of brownish gray; and his
weight is about 140 pounds, though it was only 127
when he was received in the hospital.
The teeth almost answer the description you give,
being perfect except that one incisor on the left side is
partly broken off. That is an accident, however, that
might have happened since you last saw him.
On the whole, as I said before, I am unable from
your description to decide whether this man is your
father or not. I have mentioned to him all the names
and incidents given in your letter, without the least
result. He improves in physical health daily, but there is
no corresponding improvement in his mental condition.
His memory seems entirely dormant.
 I had him photographed some time ago, but before
the prints were made the negative was destroyed in a
fire that burned a large share of the business portion of
this city; and as soon as the photographers are able to
resume business I will have a new negative made and
send you a photograph.
I suggest that you send me as many further
particulars as you can; and meanwhile you may rest
assured that this unfortunate man, whether he prove
to be your father or not, is comfortably situated and
receiving all necessary attention.
Yours very truly,
Hy. W. W. Wilkins,
Vice-Consul of the U. S., Wellington, N. Z.
“Well, if that ain’t a disappointing letter!” Mrs. Silburn exclaimed,
when Vieve had finished reading. “I should think a man right there
on the spot could tell something about it. Won’t poor Kit be
disappointed when he comes home, after all these weeks of
waiting!”
“And still he has taken a great deal of pains about it,” Vieve
suggested; “even to getting a doctor, and having a photograph
taken. We can’t blame him because he is not able to say yes or no to
a certainty. He knows how awkward it would be if he should say
‘Yes, this is the man,’ and then after we got him home he should
prove to be another man entirely. I am glad he is so careful about it,
at any rate. And it seems to me there is a great deal in the letter
that is encouraging. Let’s read it over again, and pick out the good
points.”
“But you will be late for school, Vieve,” her mother objected.
“School!” Vieve cried; “if I hurry, I may learn that Rio Janeiro is on
the east coast of South America; and I don’t care a fig if it’s on the
west coast of Asia, when there may be news about father.”
Mrs. Silburn looked up in surprise at hearing Vieve speak in this
way, for school was a pleasure to her, not a labor. She saw that the
light-hearted girl was in a great state of excitement, though she tried
hard to suppress it, and the look was the last straw that brought on
the storm.
“Oh, mamma!” she sobbed, with one arm across her eyes. “I
believe that man—that man—in New Zealand—is my father!”
With another burst of tears she threw her arms around her
mother’s neck and sobbed till the chair shook. And as such things
are always contagious, Mrs. Silburn was soon crying too; and if tears
are a relief, they must have felt much better, for it was ten or fifteen
minutes before they were able to look at the letter again.
“Suppose it is your father,” Mrs. Silburn said at length, in a mildly
chiding tone; “that’s nothing to cry about, is it? This unsatisfactory
letter only makes another delay, that’s all. Kit will know what to do
when he comes. He always knows. What is it the man says about
your father’s teeth?”
“Well, he don’t say they’re father’s teeth,” she answered, trying to
laugh off the remnants of her tears. “But he says that that man’s
teeth—let me see what he does say—” and she turned to the letter
again.
“‘The teeth almost answer the description you give,’” she read,
“‘being perfect except that one incisor—’ what’s an incisor? oh, yes, I
know; ‘that one incisor on the left side is partly broken off.’”
“Now isn’t that a good point?” she asked. “There ain’t many
people have teeth like father’s, I tell you. And it’s nothing that one of
them should be broken. I guess if we went through such a shipwreck
we’d have more broken than one tooth. It’s easy to see how a mast,
or a keel, or a—a—a breakwater or something might have struck him
while he was in the water.
“Then there’s that scar,” she went on. “Let me see—” and she
found that part of the letter again. “‘We imagine that there is a slight
scar upon the left temple,’” she read. “Now why should they imagine
it if it wasn’t there? You don’t imagine a scar; you see it. Oh, we
couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”
There was no school for Vieve that morning; she was too much
excited over the letter. But after it had been read again and well
studied she drew her father’s armchair to his favorite place by the
fireside, got out his slippers and stood them in order in front of the
chair, just ready to be stepped into, and laid in the chair his pocket
knife, that had been one of their treasures ever since Kit brought it
home from London. Then she called in Turk and made him sit down
beside the chair.
“There!” she said; “there’s a beginning. We have the chair, the
slippers, the knife, and Turk waiting to be petted. And in New
Zealand we have got as far as father’s beautiful teeth and the scar
on the temple. Before long we’ll have a whole father sitting here
with us, or I’m very much mistaken. I don’t feel so much as if he
was missing now. We know where he is (at least I think we do), and
we have only to get him home.”
“Ah, you are very hopeful, Vieve,” her mother sighed. “I only wish
I felt as sure of it as you do.”
It was only two or three mornings after the receipt of the consul’s
letter that Vieve once more waved an envelope as she hurried down
the post-office hill.
“It’s another from Kit, mother,” she cried, as she burst into the
room; “and it was registered and I had to sign a receipt for it, so
there must be something important in it.”
There was no hesitation ever about opening Kit’s letters; they
were always so hopeful and cheery.
“We are going to get our cargo in a little sooner than we
expected,” he wrote, “and in about two weeks or two and a half
after you receive this you may hear of our arrival in New York.
“I intended to send you the cardinal’s letter last time I wrote, but I
was interrupted and had to mail it in a hurry, so I waited to send it in
this. And I will register this letter to guard against it’s being lost in
the mails, as a note from so powerful a person might be of great use
to us in New Zealand, and I must not lose it. It is written in Latin, as
you will see; and I am sorry to say that not one of us on the ship
knows enough about Latin to read it. But maybe you can get our
minister in Huntington or Vieve’s teacher to translate it for you. I
should like to know myself what is in it. I shall not be very long, I tell
you, about learning some languages besides English. I did not know
how much use they could be to a man till I came to travel. I am
picking up a little French in dealing with these French people, but
have not had much time for it—for you must not think I have had
nothing to do in Marseilles but look at the sights. I heard a funny
little story the other day about an Englishman who was learning
French. You know the ‘sea’ in French is mer, pronounced mare, and
‘horse’ is cheval. ‘Well,’ said he, after taking a few lessons, I never
can learn such a foolish language as this, where the sea is a mare
and a horse is a shovel.’”
“Did you ever see such a boy!” Mrs. Silburn exclaimed, handling
Kit’s letter as if it were more precious than gold. “He always finds
something funny wherever he goes.”
But Vieve was very much interested in the cardinal’s note, and the
little scarlet emblem in the corner.
“I might take it to school and ask the teacher to translate it,” she
said; “but I think Mr. Wright would be more interested in it. He
always takes such an interest in Kit; and then although he is a
minister, maybe he has never seen a letter from a cardinal.”
That same afternoon she took the letter to Mr. Wright, the
clergyman who preached in the church across the road, and he
readily consented to translate it.
“That is, if I can,” he added, smiling. “It is one good thing about
the Catholics that they teach their young men Latin much more
thoroughly than we learn it in our schools. The priests cannot only
read and write it, but they can always converse in it fluently. But I
think I can translate this for you; at any rate, I will write it out for
you in English, for you probably could not remember it all.”
He read it over first carefully, and then wrote the following
translation:—

Most Reverend and Well Beloved Brother: This will be

presented to you by Mr. Christopher Silburn, a young
American in whom I take an interest.
His father has been shipwrecked and has
disappeared, and it is hoped that a sailor now in one of
 your New Zealand hospitals may prove to be the
missing man.
I bespeak for my young friend your good offices in
whatever manner may be fitting.
Accept, brother, the assurance of my continued love
and esteem.
Galotti.
“Galotti—Galotti,” Mr. Wright said, musingly, as he copied the
signature; “why, there is a celebrated cardinal of that name. This can
hardly be from Cardinal Galotti, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir,” Vieve answered, swelling a little with pride in her
brother; “that is the man. He is one of Kit’s friends in Marseilles.”
Such an astonishing statement had to be explained; and in answer
to her pastor’s questions she repeated the story of their meeting in
the strange church as Kit had told it in his letter.
“I am remarkably glad to hear it,” Mr. Wright said, when she
finished. “Kit is a good boy, and sure to make good friends wherever
he goes. But I imagine you have no idea what a powerful friend he
has made this time. The cardinals hold the very highest position in
the Catholic Church, next to the Pope himself. Such a letter as this
from a cardinal to a bishop is almost equal to a royal command, and
may be of the greatest use to you. Wait a minute; I think I can tell
you something about Cardinal Galotti.”
He turned to a bookcase and took down a volume, and in a few
minutes continued:—
“Yes, Galotti is one of the most eminent of the cardinals, and may
eventually be the Pope himself. All the cardinals are called
ecclesiastical princes, you know; but Galotti is a temporal prince as
well, being a prince of Italy. No wonder he seemed so much at ease
in the little throne they arranged for him in that curious church. I
don’t believe in such things myself; but I am truly glad that Kit has
made so powerful a friend.”
Whether Vieve had anything to say to the girls at school about
“Kit’s friend the cardinal,” would be hard to tell; but in a little over
two weeks more she ran down the post-office hill so fast one
morning that her mother knew she had some news, though there
was no letter in her hand.
What she had was a little slip that one of the neighbors she met in
the office had torn out of his New York newspaper for her. It was
only one line of fine type, under the heading “Arrived Yesterday”:
“North Cape, Griffith, from Marseilles.”
 CHAPTER XVI.

KIT LEAVES THE “NORTH CAPE.”

T HOUGH the voyage to and from Marseilles had been a pleasant

one, and the business had been transacted in a way that he
knew must be satisfactory to his employers, Kit was remarkably
glad when the North Cape was inside of Sandy Hook again. It was
time, more than time, for an answer to his letter to New Zealand;
and although at his last news from home no answer had arrived, he
felt sure that he must find one when he reached Huntington.
“I shall be busy for five or six days getting out my cargo,” he
wrote home when his first rush on arrival was over; “but you can
expect to see me by the beginning of next week. I have so many
things to tell you; and I hope you will have news for me from
Wellington.”
He was to have more things to tell them when he got to
Huntington than he then had any idea of; but he sent some
messages and packages home by Harry Leonard, as before, and
worked away at his cargo till the greater part of it was in the
warehouse.
He had eight hundred boxes of soap among his other cases, for
Marseilles is a great point for the manufacture of soaps; “and it’s a
pity they send so much of it away,” he often said to himself, “when
they’re in such need of it over there.” But his soap needed particular
attention; and he had to make several trips to his employers’ office
to get directions concerning it. On his return from one of these trips
he went into the cabin and found that there was a visitor in the
Captain’s room.
 “Come in, Silburn,” the Captain called through the open door.
“Here’s a friend of yours come to see you.”
Kit went in, wondering whether his mother could have received
important news and hastened to the city to tell him of it; but his
hand was instantly seized by the rotund purser Clark, of the Trinidad,
as fat and bluntly good-natured and short-breathed as ever.
“Glad to see you again, Silburn,” the purser puffed. “It’s not so
long since we cooled ourselves with ice cream in the ice-house down
in Barbadoes; but I hear you’ve been seeing a good deal of the
world since then.”
“Oh, a few corners of it,” Kit answered. “It’s hard to find a better
part of it than our own country, though.”
“You’re right there!” Mr. Clark acquiesced, bringing his hand down
on his fat knee with a bang. “You’re just right there, young man. But
it’s a good plan to see how the other fellows live, to make us
appreciate our own advantages. I’ve not been seeing much of it
lately, for my part; just going up and down, up and down, among
those black rascals in the West Indies. I’ve had a great deal too
much work to do; it’s wearing me down to skin and bone.”
Kit and the Captain were inclined to laugh at this, considering the
purser’s hearty appearance; but his face was as solemn as a judge’s.
“The work seems to agree with you pretty well, sir,” Kit suggested.
“No, it don’t!” the purser declared, giving his knee another
sounding slap. “That’s a mistake; work don’t agree with anybody, in
spite of all the twaddle about it. I don’t believe in work. My theory is
that nobody should have to work at all. Every man should have an
income of at least five thousand dollars a year, and live on his
money. The trouble is things are not arranged right, and some of us
get left. No, work is all humbug.”
It was impossible to tell from the purser’s round face whether he
was joking or not. He certainly was a hard worker himself.
“The only concession I will make,” he went on, “is, that being
compelled to work at all, it is better to do it well. I believe you go on
that theory too, Silburn; that’s the reason I’ve come to see you.
Although, as I say, I don’t believe in work, still when it has to be
done I like to see it done well. I believe you have been defrauded by
society, like myself, of the five thousand a year that every man is
entitled to, and have to work a little for a living? And that being the
case, how would you like to leave the North Cape and come and
work for me?”
“For you, sir?” Kit exclaimed, naturally taken by surprise by the
suddenness of the question. “On the Trinidad, do you mean?”
“Well, I mean for my company, of course,” Mr. Clark replied; “but
with me, on the Trinidad. You see the situation is this. Our business
has increased so much down among those islands, both in
passengers and freight, that there is more work for the purser on
the Trinidad than any one man ought to be asked to do. I am away
behind in my work all the time, and that don’t do. So the company
has consented to let me have an assistant. And as my assistant will
be with me all the time, and I will be responsible for his work, it is
only fair that I should have the privilege of selecting him. They see
the force of that too; and the matter being left with me, I said to
myself, young Silburn’s the sort of man I want with me, if I can get
him. He attends to his business without any nonsense, and I’m going
to hunt him up.
“So I have had a talk with the Captain here about you,” the purser
went on; “and if you want to be my assistant purser on the Trinidad
at one hundred dollars a month, you have only to say the word.”
For a few moments Kit hardly knew how to reply. Mr. Clark had
been jesting, he was sure, in talking about his dislike of work; and
he was still jesting. Kit thought, when he first spoke of Kit’s working
for him. But there was no joke about such an offer as he had just
made. That was sober earnest, and required an answer.
“Why, I should like to have one hundred dollars a month, sir,” he
replied, “very much indeed. And I should like to be with you. But on
the other hand I should dislike to leave Captain Griffith and the old
North Cape. And there is one thing that would interfere with my
going into a new place just now. I don’t know whether I told you
about my father, how he was shipwrecked and has been missing for
a long time. There is a man in New Zealand, in a hospital, who may
prove to be my father; and if he should, it might be necessary for
me to go over there to bring him home.”
“Yes, Captain Griffith has told me all about that,” Mr. Clark
answered, “and that need not be any objection. It is quite right that
you should do everything possible for your father. But it is not such a
long voyage to New Zealand in these days of steam, and I could put
some one in your place while you were gone. Besides, it takes
money for such a trip, and you would get the money much faster as
my assistant than you can make it as a supercargo.”
“Yes, sir, that is true,” Kit said; “I thought of that at once. And it is
very kind in you to make me such a liberal offer. But can you let me
have a little time to think of it in, Mr. Clark? Say a week or ten days?
I have always had a sort of horror of changing about from one place
to another, and should not like to do it without consulting Captain
Griffith and my mother.”
“Take a week and welcome to think it over in, my lad,” the purser
answered. “I can’t say more than a week, because I must have
some one before I start on the next voyage. But you can do a heap
of thinking in a week, if you set about it. And I hope you will make
up your mind to go with me. I think it will be to your advantage and
mine too.”
After the purser was gone Kit had to look after his soap-boxes; but
as soon as they were attended to he returned to the cabin and had a
serious talk with Captain Griffith.
“I don’t like the idea of your leaving us, Silburn,” the Captain said;
“don’t like it at all. But it would be selfish in me to stand in the way
of your bettering yourself. The Quebec company is a good company,
the Trinidad is a fine ship, and Mr. Clark is a good man to be with. I
have known him slightly for a long time. To be sure, he has some
odd ways, but then most of us have. He is always talking about not
believing in work, yet he works as hard as any man I know.
“And the one hundred dollars a month is a great object,” he
continued. “It is really large pay, considering that you would live on
the ship and would have hardly any expenses. You would have to
wear the company’s uniform, of course, and keep well dressed on
account of the passengers; but that does not amount to much. And
you would likely become one of their pursers in time, if you gave
satisfaction. Much as I should dislike to lose you, it is only fair for me
to say that I think it is a very fine offer. I don’t see how you can do
anything but accept it.”
To add to the unsettled state of Kit’s mind, the next day brought
him a letter from Vieve saying that they had heard from the consul
at Wellington. But she did not say whether the man in the hospital
had proved to be their father or not. This he looked upon as a bad
sign, for if there had been good news, she would have been in a
hurry to tell it. So with this matter to be discussed, and his Marseilles
experiences to be related, and his new offer to be considered and
decided upon, he felt as if a week at home would hardly be half long
enough.
“I never had any regret at going ashore before, Captain,” he said,
as he shook the Captain’s hand in bidding him good-by. “But this
time it seems almost like leaving home. It has been so pleasant on
the North Cape, and you have always been so kind, I should feel
strange to belong anywhere else. If I accept Mr. Clark’s offer, I’ll not
belong on the old ship any longer, and it makes me feel bad in
advance.”
“I don’t like to think of your going, Kit,” the Captain answered,
returning to the first name as a mark of affection; “but the manner
of your going makes a great difference, you know. If you were going
under compulsion, I should feel downright bad about it. Going to
something better is a different matter entirely. I suppose when a
United States senator is elected President he doesn’t have any great
regrets about leaving his old seat in the Senate Chamber. And it is
the same thing with you, in a smaller way. But we know each other,
Kit, and though you may leave the ship, we will still be friends.
Anyhow, when you are in need of a friend you need not go further
than the cabin of the North Cape.”
There was so much to be done at home that Kit laid out a
programme on his way to Bridgeport. The letter from New Zealand
he thought the most important matter, and that should be
considered first. Then the offer from Mr. Clark. He had pretty much
made up his mind that that ought to be accepted; but if his mother
opposed it he was ready to give it up. Then after all the business
was done he could tell about his second voyage to Europe. This time
he caught the stage to Huntington, and so saved himself a long
walk.
“Why, you folks have grown so grand here I’m almost afraid to go
in,” he laughed, looking up at the freshly painted house as his
mother and Vieve ran out to the gate to meet him.
“Oh, I’m glad you think so!” Vieve answered, taking possession of
the side opposite her mother. “I thought maybe we would seem too
poor and common for you, since you’ve taken to travelling about
with cardinals. But I know more about your cardinal now than you
do, Mr. Supercargo, for Mr. Wright has translated his letter for me,
and told me all about him.”
They were all too full of the New Zealand letter to let that stand
long; and before Kit had been in the house many minutes he asked
for it. When they gave it to him he read it carefully, then read it
again, and thought over it for a few minutes without speaking.
“Well, it is not as bad as I feared,” he said, at length. “When Vieve
wrote that you had received the letter, without saying what was in it,
I thought there must be such bad news that you did not want to tell
me. But this is only more delay. What little news there is in it is good
news, for they seem to have found the scar, though they are not
sure about it, and the teeth correspond with father’s. It looks more
hopeful than ever, only we must wait till we can hear again. And the
photograph ought to settle the question, when that comes. I will
write to the consul again, and give him all the particulars we can all
think of.”
“And that letter from the cardinal,” Mrs. Silburn suggested. “It
seems he is a very great man, and the letter is to the Bishop of New
Zealand—a Catholic of course, but I wouldn’t mind what he was if he
could help us. This is a nice time of life for a God-fearing Protestant
woman to begin talking about cardinals and bishops; but wouldn’t it
be as well to send that letter on and ask the bishop to help us?”
 Kit asked to see the translation before he gave any opinion about
it, for he did not yet know what was in the letter.
“I am inclined to think it would be better to save this for another
purpose,” he said, after he had read it. “I have never said so before,
but I have often thought, and the same thing must have occurred to
you, that I may have to go on to New Zealand. It is a long journey,
but any of us would go further than that, further than the end of the
world, to have father with us again. If I should go there, this letter
would be a very valuable thing to take with me, and I think it ought
to be kept for that. The only thing is to have some reasonable
certainty that the man in the hospital is really father. With any good
evidence of that, even very slight evidence, I should go over there at
once.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Silburn answered, with tears in her eyes; “I have often
thought of that, Kit. And I knew of course that you would think of it.
If we can get any reasonable evidence that that may be your father,
I think you ought to go. It will take all the money we can borrow on
this little place, and leave us badly in debt again, but we must not
stop for that. All the money in the world is nothing compared with
having your father back again.”
“Oh, we are not as badly off as all that!” Kit said. Never in his life
before had he felt so proud of being able to earn money. “You don’t
know how easily we sea-faring fellows can get about the world. I
think maybe I can get a job for one round voyage on some vessel
bound for Australia or New Zealand, even if I have to work only for
my passage. Then the only expense will be paying father’s fare
home. Captain Griffith would help me to get such a job, I know; and
I have another friend now who would help me to it, I am sure. You
see I have some more news for you, though I didn’t intend to tell
you till to-morrow.”
Then he told of his offer of one hundred dollars a month from the
Quebec Steamship Company, and how he had consulted Captain
Griffith, and how the Captain had advised him to accept it; and
explained that he thought very favorably of it himself, but waited to
hear what his mother thought.
 “A hundred dollars a month!” Vieve cried, throwing her arms about
her brother’s neck and nearly choking him. “You? Just for writing out
those paper things on a ship? That’s twelve hundred dollars a year!
why, Mr. Wright don’t get more than a thousand, I’m sure, and the
parsonage; but then you’ll have a sort of parsonage too—at least the
ship to live in.”
“Ah! but Mr. Wright don’t travel about with cardinals!” Kit laughed.
“That makes all the difference in the world. What do you think of it,
mother? It is an important matter, and you are the one to decide it.”
“No, we have got beyond that, Kit,” Mrs. Silburn answered, as well
as her demonstrations of pleasure would allow. “You are the one to
decide questions for us, not we for you. As far as I can see I should
think you would not hesitate at all about it. But you know all the
circumstances better than I do. You must decide for yourself.”
“Then it is already decided, mother,” he said. “I had made up my
mind to accept it, provided you did not object. You don’t know how
much I love Captain Griffith and the North Cape. The Captain is one
man in a thousand; he has been like a father to me. But one
hundred dollars a month is a splendid offer, and the Captain himself
advises me to take it.”
There was a little feast in the Silburn cottage that evening to
celebrate Kit’s improved prospects. That was what it meant when he
beckoned Vieve into the hall and slipped some money into her hand,
and told her, after making her purchases, to go to Harry Leonard’s
and invite him to come over. Not very much of a feast; if she had
had a purseful of gold to spend she could not have bought the
materials for a banquet in the little shops of Huntington, at such
short notice; but what she found in her hurried trip answered every
purpose.
“Now don’t you be making eyes at Harry Leonard, miss!” Kit
warned her, when she returned with the provisions, and began by
unloading a fat chicken and some bunches of Malaga grapes. “I
know you used to be very fond of him.”
“At Harry Leonard!” Vieve retorted, assuming her grandest air.
“Humph! I guess when I have a beau (which I won’t have), he’ll be
nothing short of a cardinal.”
“Then you’ll die an old maid,” Kit laughed; “don’t you know that
cardinals are Catholic priests, and never marry?”
They were a merry party at supper, though Harry was disconsolate
for a while at hearing that Kit was going to leave the North Cape.
“Why, I don’t know what we’ll do without him on board, Mrs.
Silburn!” he exclaimed. “It will be like a different ship. It will make a
great change for me, I tell you. No more good times on shore now
for the cabin boy, I suppose. The Captain thinks I’m too young and
giddy to go ashore alone in strange ports, though I’m not; but he
was always satisfied when I was with Kit.”
The whole story of their visit to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde had to be
told while they were eating, and their meeting with the mysterious
stranger; and Harry kept them in roars of laughter when he
described how the old and young priests always entered the room
“on their marrow bones,” as he called it. Somewhere in Marseilles he
had heard the French pronunciation of Vieve’s name, and he added
to the merriment by insisting upon giving it the French twang
whenever he addressed her: “Miss Zhou-vay-ve; Miss Zhou-vay-ve.”
The spectre at the feast did not show itself till all was over and
Harry had gone home, for Kit guarded it carefully as long as he
could. But at last he had to let it out.
“My change of work will cut short my visit home,” he announced.
“I can’t go off suddenly and leave my employers in the lurch, you
know. They must have time to get some one else in my place; and if
they ask it, I may have to wait another voyage before going on the
Trinidad. But if they let me off, I will still have a great deal to do. My
accounts must all be straightened out, and I will have some business
with the tailors. I will have to wear the company’s uniform on the
Trinidad, you know.”
“Ah! that’s it!” Vieve declared, pretending to be hurt at Kit’s
leaving them sooner than he expected, though it was not all
pretence. “He wants to get his new clothes! Won’t he be grand,
though, when he comes out in a new uniform with gold braid!”
 “Yes, you know I always think so much about my clothes,” he
answered. “But I’ll be with you all day to-morrow; and busy enough,
too, writing letters. To-morrow I must write to that New Zealand
consul again, and there are several more to be written. Then the
next morning I must go back to New York. But then this won’t be
like those long trips to Europe. Why, I’ll be back again in no time at
all. The Trinidad only runs to the island of Trinidad and back,
stopping at St. Kitts, Antigua, St. Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, and
Barbadoes. She makes the round trip in twenty-eight days. Being a
mail and passenger boat, you know, she has to make time.”
It was hard work for Kit to go back to the North Cape to say good-
by, after his employers had generously released him at once, with
many expressions of satisfaction and good will. It was on her that he
had changed from a waif on the docks to a cabin boy, and from
cabin boy to supercargo. In her cabin he had made his start in life,
and every man on board was his friend. He could not bid good-by to
Captain Griffith in the cabin and then go away. The crew crowded
around him to wish him happiness and prosperity. Men who had
never shown any particular interest in him before, seemed grieved to
have him go. He had to shake hands with Mr. Mason and Mr.
Hanway, with Tom Haines and his chief, with the steward, even with
Chock Cheevers.
In four days more, when in all the glory of bright new uniform he
stood on the deck of a faster and handsomer ship, watching once
more the hoisting of the flags as she sped by the Sandy Hook signal
station, it gave him a start when he saw that the uppermost flag did
not bear the familiar number of the North Cape.
“The Trinidad,” the signals said this time; “for Trinidad and
intermediate ports.”
 CHAPTER XVII.

OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE.

T HE difference between a modern mail and passenger steamer

and a vessel built solely for carrying freight is so great that Kit
could hardly help liking his new surroundings, much as he
regretted leaving his old friend the North Cape. On the Trinidad there
was a beautiful little office for the purser, in which Mr. Clark had one
desk and his assistant another; and although the work was ten times
as great as on the freighter, the facilities for doing it were ten times
better. It was vastly more labor to make up the manifest where there
were thousands of miscellaneous packages for different consignees
at different ports; but it had to be written only once, for there was
the copying-press ready to make as many duplicates as might be
needed. Kit had never seen so many facilities before for doing good
and rapid work.
And there was not more change in the office work than there was
in everything else. No more “sea clothes” to be worn now, with forty
or fifty passengers in the cabin, and the necessity of going into the
grand saloon for every meal. It was a finer saloon than Kit had seen
anywhere before, fitted up in marbles and hard woods and shining
glass; and certainly the meals were far beyond anything he had
dreamed of. Mr. Clark’s seat was at the head of one of the tables,
and Kit’s at the foot; and he soon found that being agreeable to the
passengers is an important part of the purser’s work on a large
steamer. That part of the work Mr. Clark was quite willing to do
himself, leaving his assistant to attend to the clerical-business; and
Kit was more than willing to have it so, for he did not feel quite at
home yet with so many passengers on board ship.
 The voyage was no novelty to him, as he had been over precisely
the same route before as far as Barbadoes. But this trip bade fair to
give him a much better knowledge of the intermediate islands, for
the purser told him that he was to do all the “shore work.”
“There’s no use of my roasting myself on those islands,” Mr. Clark
said, “when I have a young fellow to do it for me. You are
accustomed to that kind of work; you will find this almost the same
as the work you have been doing. You must never let a package get
away from you till somebody else becomes responsible for it and you
have his receipt for it. These fellows down here would steal the tan
off your face, if they didn’t have so much of their own. I have read
in books that there’s a great deal of honesty in the world, but
somehow it doesn’t seem to thrive around the seaports. Maybe you
had a little experience of that in Marseilles.”
“I rather think I did!” Kit laughed. “But I have learned pretty well
how to hold on to my goods. I don’t think they’re going to rob me
much down here.”
One of the pleasures of the evening was to have Captain Fraser
come into the office for a chat. In the long run between New York
and St. Kitts, the first island, with fair weather and no land for
hundreds of miles, the Captain had very little to do, and hardly an
evening passed without a visit from him. He was a big, jolly, hearty
Nova Scotian, in manner very much like Mr. Clark, Kit thought, at
least in his habit of saying things with a sober face that he neither
believed himself nor expected others to believe. The speed of the
Trinidad was one of the things that Captain Fraser never tired of
joking about. One evening Kit made some remark about the good
day’s run.
“Oh, I have to hold her back,” the Captain answered. “She’s a very
fast ship when we let her out, but the owners won’t stand it. Coming
up about three months ago we left St. Kitts a day late, and as we
had fine weather the chief engineer kept bothering me to let him
make it up. So at last I got tired hearing about it and told him to let
her go. Go! Well, sir, you never saw anything like it. You’ve been in a
fast train on shore and seen the telegraph poles fly past? That was
exactly the way the light-houses flew past all the way up the coast.
We got into port two days ahead of time; but when the port captain
came aboard, the first thing he said was:—
“‘Hello, here! what you been changing her color for? Don’t you
know black’s the color of this line?’
“‘Haven’t changed her color,’ said I.
“‘Look at her,’ said he.
“Well, sir, I looked over the side, and bless my weather binnacles if
the ship wasn’t a bright lead color. That was strange, you know,
considering that we’d left port black. I jumped ashore and rubbed
my hand over her, and she was smooth as—well, smooth as Clark’s
bald head there. There wasn’t a particle of paint on her; she’d come
so fast it was all stripped off, and the water had polished her steel
plates till they shone like a new quarter.
“That made her very handsome, but the owners didn’t like it
because they had to dock her to be painted.”
“She must have made a record that voyage, sir,” Kit suggested.
“Oh, that was only the beginning of it,” the Captain went on, with
a wink at the purser. “When we started out again and got down off
Hatteras we met a Dutch bark towing the biggest sea-serpent you
ever saw. Whether it was a sea-serpent or a whale they couldn’t
quite make out; but it was about 375 feet long and 35 or 40 feet
through. They’d had it two or three days, and they declared it
bellowed all night long, though that part I wouldn’t ask anybody to
believe.
“I suspected something the minute I saw it, so I went aboard the
bark and said, said I:—
“‘I think that’s my property you’ve got there.’
“‘Guess not,’ said the skipper.
“‘I guess yes,’ said I, for I was sure of it now. ‘If you cut into the
beast somewhere abaft the mainmast I think you’ll find my
trademark in him.’
“Well, sir, they lowered a boat and sent a man to chop into the
critter with an axe, and with the first blow the whole thing
flummixed—just collapsed, for there was nothing in it but wind. But
the man gave two or three more cuts and laid over the flap, and
right across it, in big gold letters, was, ‘The Trinidad, New York.’ It
was nothing in the world but the paint off our ship, stripped off just
like you’d skin an eel. We sold it to the darkies in Dominica
afterwards for waterproof coats and galoshes; but I’m not going to
put her at that speed again.”
The Captain never repeated his stories, because he always made
them up as he went along; and he was so companionable and full of
fun that in a short time Kit felt well enough acquainted with him to
give him an account of his father’s disappearance and tell him about
the man in the New Zealand hospital. The Captain listened with
great interest; but even in a matter of such importance he could not
quite resist the temptation to crack a joke.
“Didn’t he have a mark on his arm?” he asked. “In all such stories
that I’ve read, the missing man had a mark on his arm that he could
be identified by. I’ve often thought what an advantage one-legged or
one-armed or one-eyed men have. If one of them goes off missing,
it’s the easiest matter in the world to identify him.
“But seriously, Silburn,” he went on, “it does look a little as if that
man might be your father. It’s nothing against it that he was picked
up on an island in the Pacific Ocean. When a man is floating about
on a spar, say, or an oar, or anything else that keeps him up, and a
ship comes along, he don’t stop to ask whether she’s bound for
China or New York. Any port in a storm, and a ship’s as likely to be
going one way as another. Then the second ship may be lost, and
there you are. If he was the kind of father you want to bring back, I
think you can find out whether this is the right man or not. I’ve
known some fathers who’d be just as well left at a safe distance of
twelve or fifteen thousand miles.”
“Oh, mine isn’t that kind of a father, sir,” Kit answered, not quite
knowing whether to laugh or not. “We would do anything in the
world to get him back.”
“Then why don’t you go out to New Zealand and see for yourself?”
the Captain asked. “You could identify him better than any stranger;
and you can’t get anything done for you as well as you can do it
yourself.”
This was precisely the point that Kit was trying to get the Captain’s
opinion upon.
“But don’t you think, sir,” he asked, “that it is as well to wait till we
hear something more definite from the consul out there, and till he
sends the photograph?”
“Yes, I think it is,” the Captain replied. “But let me tell you
something about consuls, young man. I suppose I’ve seen more of
them than you have, for I’ve had business with them nearly all my
life. There are some good men in the business—very good—who will
put themselves out of their way to do you a service. I don’t mean to
deny that. But in general a consul is a man who draws his salary for
putting his heels on the mantel and smoking cigars. They get their
appointments generally not because they are good men for the
place, but on account of some trifling political service. Under that
beautiful system we get consuls in important places who ought to be
raising turnips out in the southwest corner of New Mexico. I don’t
know anything about the consul in Wellington; but as a general rule,
don’t you put your trust in consuls, my boy. When you have
important business to be done, go and do it yourself. It’s the only
safe way. If that was my case out in New Zealand, I’d wait a
reasonable time for the photograph, and if it looked anything like my
father, I’d be out there so quick I’d strip all the paint off myself.”
“Do you think I would have any chance of getting something to do
on a steamer going to New Zealand and back, sir?” Kit asked. “Say
as supercargo, or purser, or something of that kind?”
“Not the least in the world!” the Captain answered emphatically;
“not from New York. All of our American trade with New Zealand you
might put in your vest pocket, and you wouldn’t find a steamer
going there in six months. But if you were to say Australia, now, that
would be easy enough. There are plenty of steamers going from
New York to Australia, and when you get there you are not far from
New Zealand; you know you could do that part of the journey on
your own hook. Indeed, I know two or three masters myself
engaged in that trade; and if you make up your mind to go, you let
me know and I’ll help you along. Clark here tells me he’s got the
best young assistant in the country, though I suppose he’s mistaken
about that, for all the good pursers die very young. But this is a case
that would be easy to manage, because your father was a sea-faring
man and you’re a sea-faring man yourself going after him, and most
any good-hearted master would lend a hand. It’s all in the family,
you know; we help one another.”
This conversation seemed to Kit to make things look a little
brighter. If he could get to New Zealand and back without the great
expense of paying his passage, half the difficulties would be
removed—yes, nine-tenths of them.
“What are you doing so much with that sailor I see you talking to
on deck when you’re off duty, Silburn?” Mr. Clark asked him one day
before the first land was sighted. “You and he are not hatching a
plot to wreck the ship, are you?”
“No, sir,” Kit laughed; “though we say some very mysterious
things. The last thing I said to him yesterday was ‘my aunt has two
apples, and my uncle has two pears.’ It does sound a little like a plot,
doesn’t it? But the fact is the man is a Frenchman, Mr. Clark, and I
have employed him to teach me a little French in my spare
moments. I made up my mind in Marseilles that a sea-going man
ought to know some languages beside his own, so I bought two
primary French books in New York; and this man, who is quite an
intelligent fellow, teaches me the pronunciation. It may come of use
in Martinique when I am able to speak a little, for I have heard you
say they speak nothing but French there.”
“It’s a capital idea,” the purser agreed. “I’ve always had hard
sailing in Martinique because I couldn’t jabber their miserable
language. I’m glad you’ve taken it up. And you’ll be remarkably glad
yourself, some day, if you stick to it.”
Kit was not destined to use any of his newly acquired French in
Martinique on that first outward voyage, however; for when they
reached the roadstead in front of St. Pierre, the chief city, where
they were to land both passengers and freight, they found danger
signals flying from the top of the light-house, and all the lighters and
smaller boats drawn far up on the beach. There had been enough of
a storm in those waters to stir up a heavy sea, and more wind was
threatened, so the cautious Frenchmen would allow no boats to go
out. The passengers for Martinique could look right up the hilly
streets of their chief city, almost into some of the windows, but there
was no possible way for them to get ashore.
“It is all small freight we have for here, Mr. Clark. Couldn’t we land
it and the passengers in our own boats?” Kit asked.
“Ah, my boy, the authorities on shore would fine us if we tried it
while they have the danger signals set,” the purser answered.
“Besides, we should lose the insurance if anything happened to the
cargo. There’s nothing for it but to wait till the signals come down.”
Captain Fraser evidently thought differently, however. After trying
for five or six hours in the roadstead he gave the order to go ahead.
“Why, we are going on!” Kit exclaimed. “What will become of our
passengers and freight for St. Pierre?”
“Well, they’ll have to go on to Trinidad and come back with us,”
the purser answered. “You know we touch here on the way back.
That happens sometimes, and people who live in this part of the
world have to get used to it. If they will build their cities where there
is no harbor, only an open roadstead, they must take the
consequences. We can’t keep a mail steamer waiting for a storm
that is supposed to be coming.”
When they reached Barbadoes, Kit felt quite at home again. It was
not worth while, he knew, for him to have any hopes of getting out
to the Sea View plantation to see his friends the Outerbridges, for
nearly half of all their freight was for Barbadoes, and in the few
hours that they lay in the roadstead he was busy every minute, even
at night. He found time, however, to write a hurried note to Mr.
Outerbridge, saying that he was now assistant purser of the
Trinidad, that they were on their way to Port of Spain, and that when
they returned in a few days it would be a great pleasure to him if
any of them happened to be in the town.
 Leaving Barbadoes late in the evening, the Trinidad steamed very
slowly across toward the island of Trinidad, as Captain Fraser did not
care to go through the narrow passage before daylight.
“You’ll have to be out early in the morning if you want to see the
ship run into the muddy water of the Orinoco,” Mr. Clark told Kit that
evening while they were preparing their papers for the last port. “It’s
a curious sight, that you can’t see anywhere else, that I know of.
You know the numerous mouths of the river Orinoco all empty about
here—some into the Gulf of Paria, where we are going, and some
below it. The immense body of muddy water runs along shore with a
rush, and makes—well, I’m not going to tell you what it makes. If
you turn out by daylight you will see for yourself.”
With this hint Kit was sure to be out early; and he found that he
was not the only watcher, for some of the crew who had seen the
curious thing scores of times were out to see it again. When they
were a short distance above the very narrow entrance to the Gulf of
Paria, a dangerous channel that is called the Dragon’s Mouth, he saw
ahead a distinct line drawn across the water—a wall of water, it
looked like—a wall of muddy water two or three feet higher than the
clear water of the ocean.
“That’s just what it is, sir,” one of the sailors told him when he
asked a question. “You see that big body of fresh muddy water runs
down out of the Orinoco. When you see the line, that’s where the
river water running north meets the sea water running south. But
the ocean’s the stronger, sir, and it backs the river water up into that
ridge you see. Oh, yes, sir; we’ll run through that and you’ll never
know it.”
So they did, the ship being too large and heavy to be visibly
affected by the slight difference in water levels; and in a few
moments more they were in the Dragon’s Mouth, with the high rocks
of Trinidad on one side and the equally high hills of Venezuela on the
other, and both so close that Kit could easily have thrown a stone
against Trinidad or against the coast of South America. Then in a
short time they were through the dangerous channel and in the
broad Gulf of Paria; and by eleven o’clock they were at anchor in
smooth and shallow water about a mile away from the wharves of
the city of Port of Spain, the capital of Trinidad.
Kit thought himself pretty well accustomed to the heat of the
tropics after his experiences at Sisal and Barbadoes; but he had
never found anything before that was quite equal to the stifling heat
of Port of Spain.
“We are on the line of greatest heat here,” Mr. Clark explained
when he went into the city with him to introduce him to the agents.
“It is hotter here than right on the equator. You understand about
the isothermal lines, I suppose! This place is ten degrees north of
the equator, but the ‘line of greatest heat,’ as they call it, runs
directly through here.”
For two days the assistant purser was continually bathed in
perspiration from his necessary walks into the city and looking after
his goods on the wharf. But by that time the cargo was out and his
work in the port was practically over, for there is very little freight to
carry from Trinidad to New York.
“I have to go out to La Brea this afternoon to see the
superintendent of the pitch lake,” Mr. Clark said on the third day. “It’s
a nuisance, in this heat, and I wish I could leave it to you. But I have
had some dealings with him, and the company charged me
particularly to close a contract with him this trip if I can. So I
suppose I must go myself.”
“The superintendent of the pitch lake!” Kit exclaimed. “I have read
something about the great pitch lake in Trinidad; but what does it
have a superintendent for?”
“Because it is a very valuable piece of property,” the purser
answered. “It belongs to the government, you know, and they keep
a superintendent to look after it and sell the pitch. It goes all over
the world; a great many of the streets in New York and other
American cities are paved with it. They call it pitch here, but when it
is boiled down and ready for use we call it asphalt. We are
negotiating with the superintendent to send a freight ship down to
carry away two or three cargoes, and it will be a profitable job if I
can close the contract with him.”
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookultra.com