“I see there are trees growing on the shore, farther up the river,” added Paul.
“Those trees are willows; and wherever it is possible for them to thrive, they encourage their growth for two reasons: first, because the roots of the trees strengthen the dike; and, secondly, because the willow twigs are wanted in repairing and securing the embankment. The foundations of sea-dikes vary from a hundred and twenty to one hundred and fifty feet in width. The rampart is made of clay, which, as being impervious to water, forms the entire structure when the material is available in sufficient quantities. The maximum height of the dikes is forty feet; but of course they vary in this respect with the elevation of the land to be protected by them.”
“But I should think the mud and clay would be washed away by the beating of the sea.”
“So they are sometimes; and to guard against such an event, which is a calamity in this country, the dike is covered with a kind of thatch-work of willow twigs, which has to be renewed every three or four years. Occasionally the outer surface of the embankment is faced with masonry, the stone for which has to be brought from Norway.”
“A ship there is coming in,” interrupted the pilot, pointing to seaward.
She was several miles distant, standing in under all sail. She was examined with the spy-glasses, and every one was rejoiced to learn that it was the Young America.
CHAPTER IV.
UP THE SCHELDT TO FLUSHING.
“I am very glad to see the ship again,” said Paul to Professor Stoute.
“I supposed she would get in before us, we were detained so long by the wreck,” replied Mr. Stoute.
“Probably she stood off and on during the night, seeking for us,” added Paul, as he again looked through the spy-glass at the ship. “She seems to be sound in all her upper works, so far as I can see.”
“I dare say the ship would be safe enough as long as Mr. Lowington and Mr. Fluxion are on board of her.”
“Yes, sir; I didn’t suppose any harm had come to her; but Mr. Lowington will naturally be very anxious about us. He has made us out by this time, and is satisfied that we are still on the top of the water. There are the steeples of a town,” said Paul, pointing to the Walcheren shore. “That must be Middleburg.”
“This island was inundated in 1808,” continued Mr. Stoute, after the pilot had assured him that the steeples seen in the interior of the island were those of Middleburg. “Though the sea is as diligently watched as the advance-guard of an invading army, the great dike of West Kappel broke through, and a large part of the island was under water. Middleburg has its own dikes and ditches, the former constituting the wall of the town, upon the top of which there is a public promenade. This dike or mound kept the water out of the city after the sea-dike had given way. The inundation rose as high as the roofs of the houses in the town, but was fortunately kept at bay by the strength of the walls.”
“Were you ever in Holland, Mr. Stoute?” asked Paul, with a significant smile.
“Never,” laughed the professor; “but the schoolmaster must not be abroad when boys ask as many questions as the students on board of this vessel. As soon as I learned that we were coming to Holland, I read up everything I could find relating to the country, and I assure you my interest in the country has been doubled by my studies. We have in our library quite a collection of works relating more or less directly to Holland. The New American Encyclopædia contains very full and reliable articles on the subject. We have a full list of Murray’s Hand-Books, which form a library in themselves, and which impart the most minute information. Indeed, half the books of travel which are written are based upon Murray’s invaluable works. Then we have Motley’s History of the Dutch Republic, and the two volumes of his United Netherlands which have been published. My knowledge of Holland and Belgium comes mainly from these works.”
“I haven’t had time to look up these matters yet. I have given considerable extra time to my French. As soon as we are moored, I suppose Mr. Mapps will give us his lecture on the country; and I intend to make that the basis of my reading.”
“Then I will not say anything more about the dikes,” laughed Mr. Stoute. “You can do the matter up more systematically by your intended course.”
“I am very glad to get all I can without the trouble of hunting it up,” replied Paul, as he glanced again at the Young America. “I may have more time than I want to study up these subjects.”
“Why so?”
“I suppose I am to be court-martialed for disobedience as soon as Mr. Lowington arrives,” replied Paul, fixing his eyes upon the deck. “Mr. Hamblin has not spoken to me since I left the class yesterday afternoon.”
“It is not proper for me to say anything about that to you, Captain Kendall,” added Mr. Stoute.
“I feel that I have tried to do my duty; and, whatever happens to me, I shall endeavor to be satisfied.”
Professor Stoute walked away, apparently to avoid any further conversation on the disagreeable subject. Paul did not feel quite easy about the difficulty which had occurred between him and the dignified professor. He had hoped and expected that the storm would justify his action in the opinion of the learned gentleman; but Mr. Hamblin carefully avoided him, and he was confident he intended to prefer charges against him as soon as the principal arrived.
The Josephine was now entering the port of Flushing. The pilot was talking with the Dutch skipper very earnestly, and occasionally glancing at the “Wel tevreeden.” The latter seemed to be very uneasy, and to manifest a great deal of solicitude in regard to his vessel, notwithstanding she was safe, though the cargo had been damaged, and she had lost her masts and part of her standing rigging.
“Captain Schimmelpennink to you wish to talk,” said the pilot, stepping up to Paul.
“Who?” exclaimed Paul, almost stunned by the sound of the Dutchman’s name.
The pilot repeated it, but not much more to the edification of the young commander than before.
“I can’t talk Dutch,” laughed Paul.
“I for you will speak the English,” added the Belgian.
This was hardly more encouraging than the Dutch of the disconsolate skipper; but Paul consented to the conference.
“The galiot to you belongs for the labor you have to save him,” continued the pilot.
With some difficulty, with the assistance of Mr. Stoute, who, however, was not familiar with French nautical terms, Paul learned that Captain Schimmelpennink was much disturbed about the ultimate disposal of the “Wel tevreeden.” According to maritime law, recognized by all countries, the captain, officers, and crew of the Josephine were entitled to salvage for saving the vessel. As, without assistance, it was probable that the galiot would have been totally lost, the salvors would be entitled to the greater part of the value of the wreck when it should be sold. One half, two thirds, or even three fourths, is sometimes awarded to those who save a vessel, the proportion depending upon the condition of the wreck.
It appeared that the captain of the galiot was much distressed on this account. He declared that he was a poor man; that his vessel was all the property he had in the world; that one of the men lost overboard in the squall was his own brother, and the other his wife’s brother; and misery had suddenly come upon him in an avalanche. By the exertions of Martyn and others from the Josephine, a portion of the sails and standing rigging of the galiot had been saved, so that only about one fourth of the value of the vessel had been sacrificed by the tempest. But now the skipper was in great trouble because two thirds or three fourths of the remaining value of his property was to be decreed to the salvors by a maritime court.
Paul did not feel that it would be right for him to settle, or even discuss, this question,