Stories by English Authors: The Sea Part 4

THE ROCK SCORPIONS

(ANONYMOUS)

The screw steamer Jenny Jones was lying alongside a coal-hulk at Gibraltar one October afternoon. By three o'clock her bunkers were nearly filled, and the captain was getting ready for casting off, when one of the natives came on board. Captain Hindhaugh looked about for something to throw at the visitor, and only the difficulty of selecting an efficient missile from a large and varied a.s.sortment prevented him from letting fly at once.

The "Scorpion" said, "Ah, no, no, Capeetan! No been throw nothin'

at myself. Beesiness! I'se been com' for beesiness. Big thing, Capeetan!"

The last phrase was spoken with such a profound wink that Hindhaugh held his hand, and, addressing the man as one would an ill-conditioned dog, said, "Don't keep bowing and sc.r.a.ping there, you tastrel! Get it out sharp!"

The Scorpion whispered, "No been talk up here. Keep s.h.i.+p one hour, two hour, three hour. You'se been com' with me, and I speak you somethin' myself."

Like many of his tribe, this interesting native spoke a kind of English which is not heard anywhere else on the Mediterranean sh.o.r.e. A few of the people on the Rock learn to talk very well to our men, but most of those who come about the s.h.i.+ps use a picturesque lingo in which "myself" the place of quite a variety of parts of speech.

Hindhaugh invited the man below, and asked him to explain himself.

The fellow leaned over the table and chattered on, throwing quick side glances at every few words.

"This been big thing, Capeetan. You get away a little; drop your anchor a little. Then three felucca com' alongside, and you'se been hoist bales. Then you 'se go where agent say you. Very big thing.

Five thousand sovereign."

"What is it? tobacco?"

"That been it."

"Where for?"

"Huelva."

"I'm not going out of Portuguese waters at no price."

"Ah, no, no, Cheesu, Capeetan--no! Five mile. We have felucca there ready. I 'se been see him myself."

"What's the figure? what's the money?"

"You com' 'sh.o.r.e and see agent with myself."

Hindhaugh put a revolver in his pocket and went on deck; the Scorpion got ash.o.r.e, and hung about with an air of innocence. The captain was about to follow when the man in charge of the hulk called out, "Do you intend to keep b.u.mping us like this all night?

Why don't you cast off? You're knocking us all to flinders."

Hindhaugh beckoned. "Look here, my good chap, it won't matter to you for a couple of hours. Let us lie till dusk, and then I'll get away. I've got important business ash.o.r.e."

"That's very well, Captain. But look here; if there's anything on, I'm in it. You understand--I'm in it."

"You understand that, do you? Well then, I'll tell you to keep your mouth shut just now, or never another ton of coal will you put aboard of us as long as I run here."

"All right, Captain. No need to be nasty. You'll do the square thing, I bet."

Then Hindhaugh went ash.o.r.e, and the Scorpion walked on ahead, gazing on architectural beauties with easy interest. Presently the two men came to a narrow stairway, and the Englishman gripped his revolver. A dark-eyed Spaniard was waiting on a landing, and held up two fingers when the guide pa.s.sed. The Scorpion knocked at a greasy door, and an ugly fellow, with a cowl on, looked out and nodded. Hindhaugh stepped into a room that reeked with garlic and decay. Two men sat in the steamy dusk at the far side. An oily gentleman rose and bowed. "I'm the interpreter, Captain. You and this merchant must do your business through me. What'll you take to drink?"

"Get through your business, mister. I'm not wanting any drink."

In brief, jerky sentences the interpreter explained what was wanted.

"You steam slowly till you're near the Fleet. Then put all your men on and get the stuff up. This man goes with you, and he'll tell you where to go. Lie five miles off Huelva."

"I sha'n't go except to Portuguese waters."

"Good. Then the lighters will come and the men will discharge you."

"And now," said the captain, "what about me? How much?"

"One hundred and twenty pounds."

"Can't be done. Make it two hundred and fifty."

After some haggling, a bargain was made for two hundred and twenty.

Then Hindhaugh went further: "I want one hundred and ten down before we start, and the balance before you take an ounce of tobacco out of us."

This was settled; the merchant bowed, and the skipper went away, still keeping his hand on the revolver. Every cranny in the walls seemed fit to hide a murderer--seemed made for nothing else; and Hindhaugh thought what a fool he must have been to venture under that foul arch.

On getting aboard, the captain sent for his brother, who sailed as mate with him. He said, "Now, Jack, I'm going to run some risk.

You take this pistol, and get her oiled and put right. When you see three feluccas coming alongside, get all the chaps on deck--the Dora's crew as well as ours." (Hindhaugh was taking home a s.h.i.+p-wrecked crew, and he was very grateful just then for that accession of force.) "Whack on everything you know, and get the bales up sharp.

Tell the engineers to stand by for driving her, and leave the rest to me. If we're nailed we'll be detained, and I don't know what may happen; so you'll have to look slippy."

Jack replied, "All right, sir!" Quarter-deck manners were punctiliously observed by one of the brothers.

The shadows fell low, and the crown of the Rock grew dim.

The creeping wind stole over the Pearl Rock, and set the sinister ripples dancing; the bugles sang mysteriously through the gloom, and the mystery of the night was in the air. The Jenny Jones stole quietly toward the broad sheet of water where the vessels of the Fleet heaved up their shadowy bulk above the lapping flood. All the English sailors were stripped to the s.h.i.+rt, and a low hum of excited talk came from amids.h.i.+ps. Suddenly the raking yard of a felucca started out from amid the haze; then came another, and another.

A sailor slipped a cork fender over the side, and there was a m.u.f.fled b.u.mp and a slight sc.r.a.pe. Jack, the mate, whispered, "Now, you cripples!" and a brief scene of wild hurry and violent labour ensued. Bale after bale was whisked aboard; the Englishmen worked as only English sailors can, and the Scorpions excelled themselves under the influence of fear and black wine. When the last bale was up, Hindhaugh said to the man who first boarded him, "Who's got the money?"

"Me, Capeetan. All right. Honest man myself. You'se been have every dollar."

"Well then, it's neck or nothing. We have half an hour to clear out into the Gut. Come below, and sh.e.l.l out."

The Scorpion counted out one hundred pounds in gold, and then asked, "That be enough? Other money all right other end."

"Deuce a bit! Down with the other ten or I sliver you."

The Scorpion did not know what "sliver" meant, but the gleam of the skipper's cold eye was enough for him. He paid up and went on deck.

Hindhaugh had just said to the engineer, "Now, rive the soul out of her," when a low, panting sound was heard, and a white shape appeared gliding over the water. The captain had let the feluccas go, and the Jenny Jones was moving. He waved for the mate. "It's all up. Here's a mess. You must go home overland; suppose you swim ash.o.r.e. Steady the men down."

Jack performed one or two steps of a dance, and placed his finger against his nose. He rather enjoyed a sc.r.a.pe, did this frivolous chief officer. The white shape came nearer, and a sharp whistle sounded. Hindhaugh had known well enough that it was a steam-launch that made the panting noise, and he got ready for the worst. The launch drew right across the bows of the steamer, and then the throbbing of the little engines ceased. Again the whistle sounded; the launch gave a bound forward; then she struck away into the darkness, and Hindhaugh drew a long breath.

In an instant every possible ounce of steam was put on, and the Jenny Jones went away at eleven knots toward the Gut. All night long the firemen were kept hard at it, and before morning the Rock was far astern of the driving steamboat.