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Page 47
The only being for whom he seemed to have any liking, was Yan Yost
Vanderscamp, and him he liked for his very wickedness. He in a manner
took the boy under his tutelage, prompted him to all kinds of mischief,
aided him in every wild, harum-scarum freak, until the lad became the
complete scapegrace of the village; a pest to his uncle, and to every
one else. Nor were his pranks confined to the land; he soon learned to
accompany old Pluto on the water. Together these worthies would cruise
about the broad bay, and all the neighboring straits and rivers; poking
around in skiffs and canoes; robbing the set-nets of the fishermen;
landing on remote coasts, and laying waste orchards and water-melon
patches; in short, carrying on a complete system of piracy, on a small
scale, Piloted by Pluto, the youthful Vanderscamp soon became acquainted
with all the bays, rivers, creeks, and inlets of the watery world around
him; could navigate from the Hook to Spiting-devil on the darkest night,
and learned to set even the terrors of Hell-gate at defiance.
At length, negro and boy suddenly disappeared, and days and weeks
elapsed, but without tidings of them. Some said they must have run away
and gone to sea; others jocosely hinted, that old Pluto, being no other
than his namesake in disguise, had spirited away the boy to the nether
regions. All, however, agreed in one thing, that the village was well
rid of them.
In the process of time, the good Teunis Van Gieson slept with his
fathers, and the tavern remained shut up, waiting for a claimant, for
the next heir was Yan Yost Vanderscamp, and he had not been heard of for
years. At length, one day, a boat was seen pulling for the shore, from a
long, black, rakish-looking schooner, that lay at anchor in the bay. The
boat's crew seemed worthy of the craft from which they debarked. Never
had such a set of noisy, roistering, swaggering varlets landed in
peaceful Communipaw. They were outlandish in garb and demeanor, and were
headed by a rough, burly, bully ruffian, with fiery whiskers, a copper
nose, a scar across his face, and a great Flaunderish beaver slouched on
one side of his head, in whom, to their dismay, the quiet inhabitants
were made to recognize their early pest, Yan Yost Vanderscamp. The rear
of this hopeful gang was brought up by old Pluto, who had lost an
eye, grown grizzly-headed, and looked more like a devil than ever.
Vanderscamp renewed his acquaintance with the old burghers, much against
their will, and in a manner not at all to their taste. He slapped them
familiarly on the back, gave them an iron grip of the hand, and was hail
fellow well met. According to his own account, he had been all the world
over; had made money by bags full; had ships in every sea, and now meant
to turn the Wild Goose into a country seat, where he and his comrades,
all rich merchants from foreign parts, might enjoy themselves in the
interval of their voyages. Sure enough, in a little while there was a
complete metamorphose of the Wild Goose. From being a quiet, peaceful
Dutch public house, it became a most riotous, uproarious private
dwelling; a complete rendezvous for boisterous men of the seas, who came
here to have what they called a "blow out" on dry land, and might be
seen at all hours, lounging about the door, or lolling out of the
windows; swearing among themselves, and cracking rough jokes on every
passer-by. The house was fitted up, too, in so strange a manner:
hammocks slung to the walls, instead of bedsteads; odd kinds of
furniture, of foreign fashion; bamboo couches, Spanish chairs; pistols,
cutlasses, and blunderbusses, suspended on every peg; silver crucifixes
on the mantel-pieces, silver candle-sticks and porringers on the
tables, contrasting oddly with the pewter and Delf ware of the original
establishment. And then the strange amusements of these sea-monsters!
Pitching Spanish dollars, instead of quoits; firing blunderbusses out of
the window; shooting at a mark, or at any unhappy dog, or cat, or pig,
or barn-door fowl, that might happen to come within reach.
The only being who seemed to relish their rough waggery, was old Pluto;
and yet he led but a dog's life of it; for they practised all kinds of
manual jokes upon him; kicked him about like a foot-ball; shook him by
his grizzly mop of wool, and never spoke to him without coupling a curse
by way of adjective to his name, and consigning him to the infernal
regions. The old fellow, however, seemed to like them the better, the
more they cursed him, though his utmost expression of pleasure never
amounted to more than the growl of a petted bear, when his ears are
rubbed.
Old Pluto was the ministering spirit at the orgies of the Wild Goose;
and such orgies as took place there! Such drinking, singing, whooping,
swearing; with an occasional interlude of quarrelling and fighting. The
noisier grew the revel, the more old Pluto plied the potations, until
the guests would become frantic in their merriment, smashing every thing
to pieces, and throwing the house out of the windows. Sometimes, after a
drinking bout, they sallied forth and scoured the village, to the dismay
of the worthy burghers, who gathered their women within doors, and would
have shut up the house. Vanderscamp, however, was not to be rebuffed.
He insisted on renewing acquaintance with his old neighbors, and on
introducing his friends, the merchants, to their families; swore he was
on the look-out for a wife, and meant, before he stopped, to find
husbands for all their daughters. So, will-ye, nil-ye, sociable he was;
swaggered about their best parlors, with his hat on one side of his
head; sat on the good wife's nicely-waxed mahogany table, kicking his
heels against the carved and polished legs; kissed and tousled the young
vrouws; and, if they frowned and pouted, gave them a gold rosary, or a
sparkling cross, to put them in good humor again.
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