The Waif and the Ferryman

©2008 Ian Hobson

The river was wide and deep, yet few boats came this far upstream, and any that did would have to pass under the ferry rope, which meant keeping well to one side or ducking low where the rope sagged in the middle. The ferry rope had been there for many a long year, and was secured to stout posts on either bank. A while ago there had been talk of replacing the ferry with a bridge, but times change: new roads, and new towns too, took people in other directions, and a wide stone-built bridge three miles downstream took most of the traffic nowadays.

But still, the old ferryman, made a living; a few travellers came his way, and farmers taking a cow, or a pig or two, to market would use the ferry to cut a mile or two off their journey. The ferry itself was even older than the rope it was attached to, and was a cross between a raft and a boat, with shallow sides and a flat, rectangular deck almost as wide as it was long.

'Excuse me, sir.'

It was early morning and old Ben, the ferryman, sitting in the sunshine on the bench outside his cottage, had dozed off to sleep. He stirred and looked towards his garden gate where a little girl stood, and then got to his feet and walked over to take a closer look at her. She had long golden hair and was pretty, but her face was dirty and her dress was tattered and torn, and her feet were bare. 'A ragamuffin,' Ben observed. 'Whatever can you want?'

'I would like you to take me across the river,' said the girl.

'It's a penny for children,' said old Ben, guessing correctly that she would not have even a farthing. The little girl looked crestfallen. Her name was Mary and she was just ten-years-old. And she had walked many miles, and slept in a barn and two haystacks, before finding her way blocked by the river.

'And where might you be heading for?' Ben asked.

'London, sir,' Mary answered.

'London?' said Ben. 'Then you've a fair walk ahead of you. And what will you do when you get to London?'

'I'm not sure, sir,' Mary replied. 'Find work perhaps; I hear the streets of London are paved with gold.'

Old Ben threw his head back in laughter. 'Yes, and the moon is made of green cheese. Take my advice and go back home to your mother.'

'But I am an orphan, sir,' said Mary. 'I have no mother or father, and I have been walking for three days. I cannot turn back now.'

'Well,' said Ben, 'you seem to know your own mind. But I'll not pull the ferry across the river for one passenger, not even for a penny, but if you wait a while, until I've paying passengers to take across, I dare say I'll find room for you. It's market day today, so you'll not have long to wait.'

Ben began to move away but then turned back to look again at the girl. She was just a waif and not much more than skin and bone. 'I suppose you must be hungry,' he said, 'and thirsty too?' Mary nodded; she had not eaten since the day before when she had found a turnip lying beside the road.

'Come inside then,' said Ben. 'I've eggs and bread and a little milk if you'd like some.'

***

Later, while Mary was waiting beside the river, feeling very full and very glad that the ferryman had been so kind, she saw that there were wild flowers growing just a little further downstream and decided to pick some for him, to repay his kindness. And soon she had a nice big handful and was walking back towards the ferry when a boy leading a donkey, laden with two large sacks of carrots, arrived.

Old Ben had seen the boy and come across from his cottage. 'Ah, young Thomas,' he said, 'going to market?'

'Yes,' said the boy. He let go of the leather thong that was looped around the donkey's neck and head and felt in his pocket for his fare.

'Well that will be a penny for you and two for your donkey,' said Ben, holding out his hand.

'But I only have two pennies and a halfpenny,' said Thomas, looking hopeful.

Old Ben pulled a face but said, 'Well, I suppose that'll have to do. On you get then.'

The boy's donkey had begun to eat the grass on the riverbank, but taking hold of the crude leather bridle again, Thomas pulled him towards the ferry. The donkey was reluctant to leave the riverbank, but with a little encouragement, and a carrot that the boy pulled from his pocket, he stepped noisily onto the wooden boarding platform and then over the shallow side of the boat and onto the deck.

'You too,' Ben said to Mary, as he untied a rope that tethered the boat to the riverbank, before stepping aboard himself. The ferryboat had dipped slightly with the added weight, so Mary effortlessly jumped aboard, deciding to give the ferryman his flowers after they had crossed the river.

'Hold on there, Ben!' Old Ben looked up to see a man leading a bull, so he quickly stepped back onto the boarding platform and retied the tether. 'Thanks for waiting,' said the man, 'I'm late as it is.' The man, a farmer who lived a little over two miles from the river, was one of Ben's most regular customers.

'No matter, Jack,' said Ben, 'and if you'll give me a hand with the pullin' across, I'll only ask three pennies.'

'Aye, that's fine wi' me,' replied the farmer, pulling on a ring in the bull's nose. 'Move up there young 'uns.' Mary moved to the other end of the deck, while Thomas pulled on his donkey's harness again, making the animal take more reluctant steps forward and closer to the front of the boat. Then the ferryboat settled deeper into the water as Farmer Jack and his bull came on board. The bull seemed docile enough, though Mary kept well out of its way, staying close to the boy and his donkey. Ben knelt to untie the tether again.

'Do you have room for one more?' An old woman was standing on the loading platform, her face shadowed by the hooded cloak that she wore. Ben seemed quite startled as he had not seen her arrive, but he nodded and she stepped lightly over the side of the boat, as though it was something she had done many times before.

'Right,' said Ben. 'Let's get her across then.' He untied the tether and got back on board, and Mary and Thomas watched as he moved towards the front of the boat and took hold of the ferry rope. The rope ran between two pairs of posts that stood at each corner of the upstream side of the ferry.

'Will one of you youngsters hold the bull for me while I help Ben?' the farmer asked, showing Mary and Thomas how to keep one finger in the bull's nose ring. 'He's no trouble, but if one of you'll hold him like this, he'll feel better for it and keep still.' Mary shook her head and pulled a face, she was already closer to the bull than she wanted to be. She looked towards the old woman who lifted her head and smiled.

I'll hold him,' said Thomas and, letting go of his donkey's bridle, he stepped over to the bull and put a finger in his nose ring.

'Thanks,' said the farmer. 'Right, then.' He took hold of the ferry rope with both hands. 'Ready, Ben?'

'Aye, Jack.'

As the two men pulled, the ferryboat slowly left the riverbank. Thomas had crossed the river this way many times, but was still fascinated by the way the big flat-bottomed boat moved out towards the centre of the river when Ben pulled on the rope; and with the farmer helping, it didn't seem to matter that it was so low in the water.

'My flowers!'

Thomas's donkey had taken the opportunity to stretch his neck towards Mary and snatch a mouthful of her flowers. Mary pulled away but the donkey wanted more and followed her across the deck.

'Bad boy!' Thomas shouted, leaving the bull and rushing across the deck to stop the donkey from eating Mary's flowers. But his shouting upset the bull and he bellowed loudly and trotted after Thomas, causing the deck to sway beneath everyone's feet.

'No!' yelled Farmer Jack as he stopped pulling on the ferry rope and tried to steady his bull. But the bull's bellowing had upset the donkey and he began to heehaw loudly and then kicked with his hind legs, catching the farmer on the shin. 'Agh!' Jack grabbed the shin of his left leg and hopped up and down on his right, while his bull, deciding that he too would like a mouthful of Mary's flowers, trotted forward again, knocking Jack and Thomas over, and tipping the ferryboat so much that Mary almost fell over the side.

With all but the old woman at the front of the boat, the deck was now tilting steeply, so Mary threw what was left of her flowers into the river and grabbed hold of the boat's side, while old Ben left the rope and clambered over Jack to try and pull the bull towards the back of the boat before it began to take on water. But he was too late: one corner of the boat went below the surface of the river and, as water rushed in, Mary lost her grip and fell over the side with a splash.

'Help!' she cried. 'I can't swim!'

As the ferry tilted under the added weight of the water that was flowing over the side, the bull slid forward making it tilt even more.

'Help me get the bull to the back!' old Ben shouted as he grabbed the bull's tail and started to pull it. 'Help me before we sink!'

Farmer Jack, now back on his feet but up to his knees in water, tried to reach for the bull's nose ring, but the beast had a mind of his own and leapt over the side and into the water, immediately followed by the donkey, still laden with the two sacks of carrots. And as the animals swam towards the far riverbank, the ferryboat righted itself, sending a small tide of water towards the old lady who seemed quite unperturbed.

Thomas, who was now soaking wet from head to foot, got to his feet and looked downstream. 'The little girl!' he shouted. 'Look she's going to drown!' Mary was drifting away, frantically thrashing her arms about and barely keeping her head above water.

'What a morning!' exclaimed Ben. 'I wish I'd never got out of bed.' He tore off his jacket and his waistcoat and handed them to Thomas. 'Hold these,' he said, and then he stepped up onto the side of the boat and dived headlong into the water and began to swim towards Mary. Farmer Jack was more concerned about his bull, but was relieved to see the animal reach the far riverbank and scramble ashore, quickly followed by the donkey. But Thomas, watched as old Ben swam towards Mary, soon reaching her and grabbing a handful of her hair as she went under.

'Wrap your arms around my neck,' said Ben, breathlessly, after pulling Mary's head back above the surface of the water. Mary was coughing and spluttering, and shivering with cold and fear, but she grabbed the old man's shirt collar with one hand and wrapped first one arm, and then the other, tightly around his neck, while he struck out towards the nearest riverbank. But Ben found that swimming with a little girl with arms wrapped tightly around his neck was not so easy, as he could hardly breathe. He struggled on and, with his heart racing, he finally reached the riverbank, close to where Mary had picked the windflowers, and staggered ashore with her, collapsing onto the grass.

Meanwhile Thomas had persuaded Jack to pull the ferryboat back to that side of the river, and it was Thomas who got to Ben first. He was still lying face down in the grass, with Mary sitting shivering beside him.

'Ben!' cried Jack as he arrived. 'Ben are you all right? Help me turn him over.' He knelt beside Ben and, with Thomas's help, turned him onto his back and then put an ear to his chest and listened for his heart. But it beat no longer.

'He's dead,' said Jack, still kneeling beside the old ferryman and looking first at Mary and then at Thomas. 'He's one of the strongest men I ever knew, but that swim must have been too much for him.'

Mary got shakily to her feet and began to cry. 'But he was such a kind old man.' But then she looked about and said, 'Where did his wife go?'

Jack and Thomas looked at each other and then at Mary. 'His wife?' Jack answered. 'His wife died two years ago.'

'But the old woman,' said Mary, 'the one at the back of the ferryboat. Wasn't she his wife? She looked like his wife; I saw a picture of her in the cottage.'

Again Jack and Thomas looked at each other and then at Mary, while a hundred yards away, on the road outside the cottage, Ben and the old woman stood facing each other.

'I thought it was you,' said Ben. 'Is it my time now?'

'It is,' his wife answered. 'Are you ready?' Ben nodded and, hand in hand, they turned and walked away to where another ferry was waiting.