No, adventure is not dead, and in spite of the steam engine and of Thomas Cook & Son.When the announcement of the contemplated voyage of the Snark was made, young men of "roving disposition" proved to be legion, and young women as well--to say nothing of the elderly men and women who volunteered for the voyage.Why, among my personal friends there were at least half a dozen who regretted their recent or imminent marriages; and there was one marriage Iknow of that almost failed to come off because of the Snark.
Every mail to me was burdened with the letters of applicants who were suffocating in the "man-stifled towns," and it soon dawned upon me that a twentieth century Ulysses required a corps of stenographers to clear his correspondence before setting sail.No, adventure is certainly not dead--not while one receives letters that begin:
"There is no doubt that when you read this soul-plea from a female stranger in New York City," etc.; and wherein one learns, a little farther on, that this female stranger weighs only ninety pounds, wants to be cabin-boy, and "yearns to see the countries of the world."The possession of a "passionate fondness for geography," was the way one applicant expressed the wander-lust that was in him; while another wrote, "I am cursed with an eternal yearning to be always on the move, consequently this letter to you." But best of all was the fellow who said he wanted to come because his feet itched.
There were a few who wrote anonymously, suggesting names of friends and giving said friends' qualifications; but to me there was a hint of something sinister in such proceedings, and I went no further in the matter.
With two or three exceptions, all the hundreds that volunteered for my crew were very much in earnest.Many of them sent their photographs.Ninety per cent.offered to work in any capacity, and ninety-nine per cent.offered to work without salary.
"Contemplating your voyage on the Snark," said one, "and notwithstanding its attendant dangers, to accompany you (in any capacity whatever) would be the climax of my ambitions." Which reminds me of the young fellow who was "seventeen years old and ambicious," and who, at the end of his letter, earnestly requested "but please do not let this git into the papers or magazines."Quite different was the one who said, "I would be willing to work like hell and not demand pay." Almost all of them wanted me to telegraph, at their expense, my acceptance of their services; and quite a number offered to put up a bond to guarantee their appearance on sailing date.
Some were rather vague in their own minds concerning the work to be done on the Snark; as, for instance, the one who wrote: "I am taking the liberty of writing you this note to find out if there would be any possibility of my going with you as one of the crew of your boat to make sketches and illustrations." Several, unaware of the needful work on a small craft like the Snark, offered to serve, as one of them phrased it, "as assistant in filing materials collected for books and novels." That's what one gets for being prolific.
"Let me give my qualifications for the job," wrote one."I am an orphan living with my uncle, who is a hot revolutionary socialist and who says a man without the red blood of adventure is an animated dish-rag." Said another: "I can swim some, though I don't know any of the new strokes.But what is more important than strokes, the water is a friend of mine." "If I was put alone in a sail-boat, Icould get her anywhere I wanted to go," was the qualification of a third--and a better qualification than the one that follows, "I have also watched the fish-boats unload." But possibly the prize should go to this one, who very subtly conveys his deep knowledge of the world and life by saying: "My age, in years, is twenty-two."Then there were the simple straight-out, homely, and unadorned letters of young boys, lacking in the felicities of expression, it is true, but desiring greatly to make the voyage.These were the hardest of all to decline, and each time I declined one it seemed as if I had struck Youth a slap in the face.They were so earnest, these boys, they wanted so much to go."I am sixteen but large for my age," said one; and another, "Seventeen but large and healthy.""I am as strong at least as the average boy of my size," said an evident weakling."Not afraid of any kind of work," was what many said, while one in particular, to lure me no doubt by inexpensiveness, wrote: "I can pay my way to the Pacific coast, so that part would probably be acceptable to you." "Going around the world is THE ONE THING I want to do," said one, and it seemed to be the one thing that a few hundred wanted to do."I have no one who cares whether I go or not," was the pathetic note sounded by another.One had sent his photograph, and speaking of it, said, "I'm a homely-looking sort of a chap, but looks don't always count."And I am confident that the lad who wrote the following would have turned out all right: "My age is 19 years, but I am rather small and consequently won't take up much room, but I'm tough as the devil." And there was one thirteen-year-old applicant that Charmian and I fell in love with, and it nearly broke our hearts to refuse him.
But it must not be imagined that most of my volunteers were boys; on the contrary, boys constituted a very small proportion.There were men and women from every walk in life.Physicians, surgeons, and dentists offered in large numbers to come along, and, like all the professional men, offered to come without pay, to serve in any capacity, and to pay, even, for the privilege of so serving.
