Martin Rattler (Annotated) E-Book

Robert Michael Ballantyne

• Herausgeber: Muhammad Humza
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Mischievous young Martin Rattler is desperate for a life at sea. When he finds himself on board the 'Firefly' he can’t quite believe his luck, and soon falls in with young Barney O’Flannagan. There is trouble ahead however, and when the 'Firefly' is attacked by pirates the pair must make a hasty escape. They wash up in the Amazon, where they discover new plants and animals, meet new people, and have plenty of daring adventures together. A swashbuckling tale from much-loved author R.M. Ballantyne.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Martin Rattler

THE HERO AND HIS ONLY RELATIVE

IN DISGRACE

THE GREAT FIGHT

A LESSON TO ALL STOCKING-KNITTERS—MARTIN'S PROSPECTS BEGIN TO OPEN UP

MARTIN, BEING WILLING TO GO TO SEA, GOES TO SEA AGAINST HIS WILL

THE VOYAGE, A PIRATE, CHASE, WRECK, AND ESCAPE

MARTIN AND BARNEY GET LOST IN A GREAT FOREST, WHERE THEY SEE STRANGE AND TERRIBLE THINGS

AN ENCHANTING LAND—AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED AND A QUEER BREAKFAST—MANY SURPRISES AND A FEW FRIGHTS, TOGETHER WITH A NOTABLE DISCOVERY

THE HERMIT

AN ENEMY IN THE NIGHT—THE VAMPIRE BAT—THE HERMIT DISCOURSES ON STRANGE, AND CURIOUS, AND INTERESTING THINGS

THE HERMIT'S STORY

A HUNTING EXPEDITION, IN WHICH ARE SEEN STONES THAT CAN RUN, AND COWS THAT REQUIRE NO FOOD—BESIDES A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A JAGUAR, AND OTHER STRANGE THINGS

MARTIN AND BARNEY CONTINUE THEIR TRAVELS, AND SEE STRANGE THINGS—AMONG OTHERS, THEY SEE LIVING JEWELS—THEY GO TO SEE A FESTA—THEY FIGHT AND RUN AWAY

COGITATIONS AND CANOEING ON THE AMAZON—BARNEY'S EXPLOIT WITH AN ALLIGATOR—STUBBORN FACTS—REMARKABLE MODE OF SLEEPING

THE GREAT ANACONDA'S DINNER—BARNEY GETS A FRIGHT—TURTLES' EGGS, OMELETS AND ALLIGATORS' TAILS—SENHOR ANTONIO'S PLANTATION—PREPARATIONS FOR A GREAT HUNT

AN ALLIGATOR HUNT—REMARKABLE EXPLOSIONS—THE RAINY SEASON USHERED IN BY AN AWFUL RESURRECTION

THE CAPO—INTERRUPTIONS—GRAMPUS AND MARMOSET—CANOEING IN THE WOODS—A NIGHT ON A FLOATING ISLAND

THE SAD AND MOMENTOUS ERA REFERRED TO AT THE CLOSE OF THE CHAPTER PRECEDING THE LAST

WORSE AND WORSE—EVERYTHING SEEMS TO GO WRONG TOGETHER

MARTIN REFLECTS MUCH, AND FORMS A FIRM RESOLVE—THE INDIAN VILLAGE

SAVAGE FEASTS AND ORNAMENTS—MARTIN GROWS DESPERATE, AND MAKES A BOLD ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE

THE ESCAPE—ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS—FIGHT BETWEEN A JAGUAR AND AN ALLIGATOR—MARTIN ENCOUNTERS STRANGE AND TERRIBLE CREATURES

MARTIN MEETS WITH FRIENDS AND VISITS THE DIAMOND MINES

THE DIAMOND MINES—MORE AND MORE ASTONISHING!

NEW SCENES AND PLEASANT TRAVELLING

THE RETURN

THE OLD GARRET

CONCLUSION

S

BIOGRAPHY

Robert Michael Ballantyne (24 April 1825 – 8 February 1894) was a Scottish author of juvenile fiction who wrote more than 100 books. He was also an accomplished artist, and exhibited some of his water-colours at the Royal Scottish Academy.

EARLY LIFE

Ballantyne was born in Edinburgh on 24 April 1825, the ninth of ten children and the youngest son, to Alexander Thomson Ballantyne (1776–1847) and his wife Anne (1786–1855). Alexander was a newspaper editor and printer in the family firm of "Ballantyne & Co" based at Paul's Works on the Canongate, and Robert's uncle James Ballantyne (1772–1833) was the printer for Scottish author Sir Walter Scott. In 1832-33 the family is known to have been living at 20 Fettes Row, in the northern New Town of Edinburgh. A UK-wide banking crisis in 1825 resulted in the collapse of the Ballantyne printing business the following year with debts of £130,000, which led to a decline in the family's fortunes.

Ballantyne went to Canada aged 16, and spent five years working for the Hudson's Bay Company. He traded with the local Native Americans for furs, which required him to travel by canoe and sleigh to the areas occupied by the modern-day provinces of Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec, experiences that formed the basis of his novel Snowflakes and Sunbeams (1856). His longing for family and home during that period impressed him to start writing letters to his mother. Ballantyne recalled in his autobiographical Personal Reminiscences in Book Making (1893) that "To this long-letter writing I attribute whatever small amount of facility in composition I may have acquired."

WRITING CAREER

In 1847 Ballantyne returned to Scotland to discover that his father had died. He published his first book the following year, Hudson's Bay: or, Life in the Wilds of North America, and for some time was employed by the publishers Messrs Constable. In 1856 he gave up business to focus on his literary career, and began the series of adventure stories for the young with which his name is popularly associated.

The Young Fur-Traders (1856), The Coral Island (1857), The World of Ice (1859), Ungava: a Tale of Eskimo Land (1857), The Dog Crusoe (1860), The Lighthouse (1865), Fighting the Whales (1866), Deep Down (1868), The Pirate City (1874), Erling the Bold (1869), The Settler and the Savage (1877), and more than 100 other books followed in regular succession, his rule being to write as far as possible from personal knowledge of the scenes he described. The Gorilla Hunters. A tale of the wilds of Africa (1861) shares three characters with The Coral Island: Jack Martin, Ralph Rover and Peterkin Gay. Here Ballantyne relied factually on Paul du Chaillu's Exploration in Equatorial Guinea, which had appeared early in the same year.

The Coral Island is the most popular of the Ballantyne novels still read and remembered today, but because of one mistake he made in that book, in which he gave an incorrect thickness of coconut shells, he subsequently attempted to gain first-hand knowledge of his subject matter. For instance, he spent some time living with the lighthouse keepers at the Bell Rock before writing The Lighthouse, and while researching for Deep Down he spent time with the tin miners of Cornwall.

In 1866 Ballantyne married Jane Grant (c. 1845 – c. 1924), with whom he had three sons and three daughters.

LATER LIFE AND DEATH

Ballantyne spent his later years in Harrow, London, before moving to Italy for the sake of his health, possibly suffering from undiagnosed Ménière's disease. He died in Rome on 8 February 1894, and was buried in the Protestant Cemetery there.

LEGACY

A Greater London Council plaque commemorates Ballantyne at "Duneaves" on Mount Park Road in Harrow.

Table of Contents

Title

About

Chapter 1 - THE HERO AND HIS ONLY RELATIVE

Chapter 2 - IN DISGRACE

Chapter 3 - THE GREAT FIGHT

Chapter 4 - A LESSON TO ALL STOCKING-KNITTERS—MARTIN'S PROSPECTS BEGIN TO OPEN UP

Chapter 5 - MARTIN, BEING WILLING TO GO TO SEA, GOES TO SEA AGAINST HIS WILL

Chapter 6 - THE VOYAGE, A PIRATE, CHASE, WRECK, AND ESCAPE

Chapter 7 - MARTIN AND BARNEY GET LOST IN A GREAT FOREST, WHERE THEY SEE STRANGE AND TERRIBLE THINGS

Chapter 8 - AN ENCHANTING LAND—AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED AND A QUEER BREAKFAST—MANY SURPRISES AND A FEW FRIGHTS, TOGETHER WITH A NOTABLE DISCOVERY

Chapter 9 - THE HERMIT

Chapter 10 - AN ENEMY IN THE NIGHT—THE VAMPIRE BAT—THE HERMIT DISCOURSES ON STRANGE, AND CURIOUS, AND INTERESTING THINGS

Chapter 11 - THE HERMIT'S STORY

Chapter 12 - A HUNTING EXPEDITION, IN WHICH ARE SEEN STONES THAT CAN RUN, AND COWS THAT REQUIRE NO FOOD—BESIDES A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A JAGUAR, AND OTHER STRANGE THINGS

Chapter 13 - MARTIN AND BARNEY CONTINUE THEIR TRAVELS, AND SEE STRANGE THINGS—AMONG OTHERS, THEY SEE LIVING JEWELS—THEY GO TO SEE A FESTA—THEY FIGHT AND RUN AWAY

Chapter 14 - COGITATIONS AND CANOEING ON THE AMAZON—BARNEY'S EXPLOIT WITH AN ALLIGATOR—STUBBORN FACTS—REMARKABLE MODE OF SLEEPING

Chapter 15 - THE GREAT ANACONDA'S DINNER—BARNEY GETS A FRIGHT—TURTLES' EGGS, OMELETS AND ALLIGATORS' TAILS—SENHOR ANTONIO'S PLANTATION—PREPARATIONS FOR A GREAT HUNT

Chapter 16 - AN ALLIGATOR HUNT—REMARKABLE EXPLOSIONS—THE RAINY SEASON USHERED IN BY AN AWFUL RESURRECTION

Chapter 17 - THE CAPO—INTERRUPTIONS—GRAMPUS AND MARMOSET—CANOEING IN THE WOODS—A NIGHT ON A FLOATING ISLAND

Chapter 18 - THE SAD AND MOMENTOUS ERA REFERRED TO AT THE CLOSE OF THE CHAPTER PRECEDING THE LAST

Chapter 19 - WORSE AND WORSE—EVERYTHING SEEMS TO GO WRONG TOGETHER

Chapter 20 - MARTIN REFLECTS MUCH, AND FORMS A FIRM RESOLVE—THE INDIAN VILLAGE

Chapter 21 - SAVAGE FEASTS AND ORNAMENTS—MARTIN GROWS DESPERATE, AND MAKES A BOLD ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE

Chapter 22 - THE ESCAPE—ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS—FIGHT BETWEEN A JAGUAR AND AN ALLIGATOR—MARTIN ENCOUNTERS STRANGE AND TERRIBLE CREATURES

Chapter 23 - MARTIN MEETS WITH FRIENDS AND VISITS THE DIAMOND MINES

Chapter 24 - THE DIAMOND MINES—MORE AND MORE ASTONISHING!

Chapter 25 - NEW SCENES AND PLEASANT TRAVELLING

Chapter 26 - THE RETURN

Chapter 27 - THE OLD GARRET

Chapter 28 - CONCLUSION

MY DEAR YOUNG READERS,

In presenting this book to you I have only to repeat what I have said in the prefaces of my former works,—namely, that all the important points and anecdotes are true; only the minor and unimportant ones being mingled with fiction. With this single remark I commit my work to your hands, and wish you a pleasant ramble, in spirit, through the romantic forests of Brazil.

Yours affectionately,

R.M. BALLANTYNE.

October, 1858.

Chapter

1

THE HERO AND HIS ONLY RELATIVE

Martin Rattler was a very bad boy. At least his aunt, Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit, said so; and certainly she ought to have known, if anybody should, for Martin lived with her, and was, as she herself expressed it, "the bane of her existence,—the very torment of her life." No doubt of it whatever, according to Aunt Dorothy Grumbit's showing, Martin Rattler was "a remarkably bad boy."

It is a curious fact, however, that, although most of the people in the village of Ashford seemed to agree with Mrs. Grumbit in her opinion of Martin, there were very few of them who did not smile cheerfully on the child when they met him, and say, "Good day, lad!" as heartily as if they thought him the best boy in the place. No one seemed to bear Martin Rattler ill-will, notwithstanding his alleged badness. Men laughed when they said he was a bad boy, as if they did not quite believe their own assertion. The vicar, an old whiteheaded man, with a kind, hearty countenance, said that the child was full of mischief, full of mischief; but he would improve as he grew older, he was quite certain of that. And the vicar was a good judge, for he had five boys of his own, besides three other boys, the sons of a distant relative, who boarded with him; and he had lived forty years in a parish overflowing with boys, and he was particularly fond of boys in general. Not so the doctor, a pursy little man with a terrific frown, who hated boys, especially little ones, with a very powerful hatred. The doctor said that Martin was a scamp.

And yet Martin had not the appearance of a scamp. He had fat rosy cheeks, a round rosy mouth, a straight delicately-formed nose, a firm massive chin, and a broad forehead. But the latter was seldom visible, owing to the thickly-clustering fair curls that overhung it. When asleep Martin's face was the perfection of gentle innocence. But the instant he opened his dark-brown eyes, a thousand dimples and wrinkles played over his visage, chiefly at the corners of his mouth and round his eyes; as if the spirit of fun and the spirit of mischief had got entire possession of the boy, and were determined to make the most of him. When deeply interested in anything, Martin was as grave and serious as a philosopher.

Aunt Dorothy Grumbit had a turned-up nose,—a very much turned-up nose; so much so, indeed, that it presented a front view of the nostrils! It was an aggravating nose, too for the old lady's spectacles refused to rest on any part of it except the extreme point. Mrs. Grumbit invariably placed them on the right part of her nose, and they as invariably slid down the curved slope until they were brought up by the little hillock at the end. There they condescended to repose in peace.

Mrs. Grumbit was mild, and gentle, and little, and thin, and old,—perhaps seventy-five; but no one knew her age for certain, not even herself. She wore an old-fashioned, high-crowned cap, and a gown of bed-curtain chintz, with flowers on it the size of a saucer. It was a curious gown, and very cheap, for Mrs. Grumbit was poor. No one knew the extent of her poverty, any more than they did her age; but she herself knew it, and felt it deeply,—never so deeply, perhaps, as when her orphan nephew Martin grew old enough to be put to school, and she had not wherewithal to send him. But love is quick-witted and resolute. A residence of six years in Germany had taught her to knit stockings at a rate that cannot be described, neither conceived unless seen. She knitted two dozen pairs. The vicar took one dozen, the doctor took the other. The fact soon became known. Shops were not numerous in the village in those days; and the wares they supplied were only second rate. Orders came pouring in, Mrs. Grumbit's knitting wires clicked, and her little old hands wagged with incomprehensible rapidity and unflagging regularity,—and Martin Rattler was sent to school.

While occupied with her knitting, she sat in a high-backed chair in a very small deep window, through which the sun streamed nearly the whole day; and out of which there was the most charming imaginable view of the gardens and orchards of the villagers, with a little dancing brook in the midst, and the green fields of the farmers beyond, studded with sheep and cattle and knolls of woodland, and bounded in the far distance by the bright blue sea. It was a lovely scene, such an one as causes the eye to brighten and the heart to melt as we gaze upon it, and think, perchance, of its Creator.

Yes, it was a scene worth looking at; but Mrs. Grumbit never looked at it, for the simple reason that she could not have seen it if she had. Half way across her own little parlour was the extent of her natural vision. By the aid of spectacles and a steady concentrated effort, she could see the fire-place at the other end of the room; and the portrait of her deceased husband, who had been a sea-captain; and the white kitten that usually sat on the rug before the fire. To be sure she saw them very indistinctly. The picture was a hazy blue patch, which was the captain's coat; with a white patch down the middle of it, which was his waistcoat; and a yellow ball on the top of it, which was his head. It was rather an indistinct and generalized view, no doubt; but she saw it, and that was a great comfort.

Chapter

2

IN DISGRACE

Fire was the cause of Martin's getting into disgrace at school for the first time; and this is how it happened.

"Go and poke the fire, Martin Rattler," said the school-master, "and put on a bit of coal, and see that you don't send the sparks flying about the floor."

Martin sprang with alacrity to obey; for he was standing up with the class at the time, and was glad of the temporary relaxation. He stirred the fire with great care, and put on several pieces of coal very slowly, and rearranged them two or three times; after which he stirred the fire a little more, and examined it carefully to see that it was all right; but he did not seem quite satisfied, and was proceeding to re-adjust the coals when Bob Croaker, one of the big boys, who was a bullying, ill-tempered fellow, and had a spite against Martin, called out,—

"Please, sir, Rattler's playin' at the fire."

"Come back to your place, sir!" cried the master, sternly.

Martin returned in haste, and resumed his position in the class. As he did so he observed that his fore-finger was covered with soot. Immediately a smile of glee overspread his features; and, while the master was busy with one of the boys, he drew his black finger gently down the forehead and nose of the boy next to him.

"What part of the earth was peopled by the descendants of Ham?" cried the master, pointing to the dux.

"Shem!" shrieked a small boy near the foot of the class.

"Silence!" thundered the master, with a frown that caused the small boy to quake down to the points of his toes.

"Asia!" answered dux.

"Next?"

"Turkey!"

"Next, next, next? Hallo! John Ward," cried the master, starting up in anger from his seat, "what do you mean by that, sir?"

"What, sir?" said John Ward, tremulously, while a suppressed titter ran round the class.

"Your face, sir! Who blacked your face, eh?"

"I—I—don't know," said the boy, drawing his sleeve across his face, which had the effect of covering it with sooty streaks.

An uncontrollable shout of laughter burst from the whole school, which was instantly followed by a silence so awful and profound that a pin might have been heard to fall.

"Martin Rattler, you did that! I know you did,—I see the marks on your fingers. Come here, sir! Now tell me; did you do it?"

Martin Rattler never told falsehoods. His old aunt had laboured to impress upon him from infancy that to lie was to commit a sin which is abhorred by God and scorned by man; and her teaching had not been in vain. The child would have suffered any punishment rather than have told a deliberate lie. He looked straight in the master's face and said, "Yes, sir, I did it."

"Very well, go to your seat, and remain in school during the play-hour."

With a heavy heart Martin obeyed; and soon after the school was dismissed.

"I say, Rattler," whispered Bob Croaker, as he passed, "I'm going to teach your white kitten to swim just now. Won't you come and see it?"

The malicious laugh with which the boy accompanied this remark convinced Martin that he intended to put his threat in execution. For a moment he thought of rushing out after him to protect his pet kitten; but a glance at the stern brow of the master, as he sat at his desk reading, restrained him; so, crushing down his feelings of mingled fear and anger, he endeavoured to while away the time by watching the boys as they played in the fields before the windows of the school.

Chapter

3

THE GREAT FIGHT

"Martin!" said the school-master, in a severe tone, looking up from the book with which he was engaged, "don't look out at the window, sir; turn your back to it."

"Please, sir, I can't help it," replied the boy, trembling with eagerness as he stared across the fields.

"Turn your back on it, I say!" reiterated the master in a loud tone, at the same time striking the desk violently with his cane.

"Oh, sir, let me out! There's Bob Croaker with my kitten. He's going to drown it. I know he is,—he said he would; and if he does aunty will die, for she loves it next to me; and I must save it, and—and, if you don't let me out—you'll be a murderer!"

At this concluding burst, Martin sprang forward and stood before his master with clenched fists and a face blazing with excitement. The schoolmaster's gaze of astonishment gradually gave place to a dark frown strangely mingled with a smile, and, when the boy concluded, he said quietly—"You may go."

No second bidding was needed. The door flew open with a bang; and the gravel of the play-ground, spurned right and left, dashed against the window panes as Martin flew across it. The paling that fenced it off from the fields beyond was low, but too high for a jump. Never a boy in all the school had crossed that paling at a spring, without laying his hands upon it; but Martin did. We do not mean to say that he did anything superhuman; but he rushed at it like a charge of cavalry, sprang from the ground like a deer, kicked away the top bar, tumbled completely over, landed on his head, and rolled down the slope on the other side as fast as he could have run down,—perhaps faster.

It would have required sharper eyes than yours or mine to have observed how Martin got on his legs again, but he did it in a twinkling, and was half across the field almost before you could wink, and panting on the heels of Bob Croaker. Bob saw him coming and instantly started off at a hard run, followed by the whole school. A few minutes brought them to the banks of the stream, where Bob Croaker halted, and, turning round, held the white kitten up by the nape of the neck.

"O spare it! spare it, Bob!—don't do it—please don't, don't do it!" gasped Martin, as he strove in vain to run faster.

"There you go!" shouted Bob, with a coarse laugh, sending the kitten high into the air, whence it fell with a loud splash into the water.

It was a dreadful shock to feline nerves, no doubt, but that white kitten was no ordinary animal. Its little heart beat bravely when it rose to the surface, and, before its young master came up, it had regained the bank. But, alas! what a change! It went into the stream a fat, round, comfortable ball of eider-down. It came out—a scraggy blotch of white paint, with its black eyes glaring like two great glass beads! No sooner did it crawl out of the water than Bob Croaker seized it, and whirled it round his head, amid suppressed cries of "Shame!" intending to throw it in again; but at that instant Martin Rattler seized Bob by the collar of his coat with both hands, and, letting himself drop suddenly, dragged the cruel boy to the ground, while the kitten crept humbly away and hid itself in a thick tuft of grass.

A moment sufficed to enable Bob Croaker, who was nearly twice Martin's weight, to free himself from the grasp of his panting antagonist, whom he threw on his back, and doubled his fist, intending to strike Martin on the face; but a general rush of the boys prevented this.

"Shame, shame, fair play!" cried several; "don't hit him when he's down!"

"Then let him rise up and come on!" cried Bob, fiercely, as he sprang up and released Martin.

"Ay, that's fair. Now then, Martin, remember the kitten!"

"Strike men of your own size!" cried several of the bigger boys, as they interposed to prevent Martin from rushing into the unequal contest.

"So I will," cried Bob Croaker, glaring round with passion. "Come on any of you that likes. I don't care a button for the biggest of you."

No one accepted this challenge, for Bob was the oldest and the strongest boy in the school, although, as is usually the case with bullies, by no means the bravest.

Seeing that no one intended to fight with him, and that a crowd of boys strove to hold Martin Rattler back, while they assured him that he had not the smallest chance in the world, Bob turned towards the kitten, which was quietly and busily employed in licking itself dry, and said, "Now, Martin, you coward, I'll give it another swim for your impudence."

"Stop, stop!" cried Martin earnestly. "Bob Croaker, I would rather do anything than fight. I would give you everything I have to save my kitten; but if you won't spare it unless I fight, I'll do it. If you throw it in before you fight me, you're the greatest coward that ever walked. Just give me five minutes to breathe and a drink of water, and I'll fight you as long as I can stand."

Bob looked at his little foe in surprise. "Well, that's fair. I'm your man; but if you don't lick me I'll drown the kitten, that's all." Having said this, he quietly divested himself of his jacket and neckcloth, while several boys assisted Martin to do the same, and brought him a draught of water in the crown of one of their caps. In five minutes all was ready, and the two boys stood face to face and foot to foot, with their fists doubled and revolving, and a ring of boys around them.

Just at this moment the kitten, having found the process of licking itself dry more fatiguing than it had expected, gave vent to a faint mew of distress. It was all that was wanting to set Martin's indignant heart into a blaze of inexpressible fury. Bob Croaker's visage instantly received a shower of sharp, stinging blows, that had the double effect of taking that youth by surprise and throwing him down upon the green sward. But Martin could not hope to do this a second time. Bob now knew the vigour of his assailant, and braced himself warily to the combat, commencing operations by giving Martin a tremendous blow on the point of his nose, and another on the chest. These had the effect of tempering Martin's rage with a salutary degree of caution, and of eliciting from the spectators sundry cries of warning on the one hand, and admiration on the other, while the young champions revolved warily round each other, and panted vehemently.