Tom Cringle's Log Part 49

"The Vice Admiral has got a hint from Sir----, to kick that wild splice, young Cringle, about a bit. It seems he is a nephew of Old Blueblazes, and as he has taken a fancy to the lad, he has promised his mother that he will do his utmost to give him opportunities of being knocked on the head, for all of which the old lady has professed herself wonderfully indebted. As the puppy has peculiar notions, hint, directly or indirectly, that he is not to be permanently bolted down to the little and that if half a dozen skippers (you, my darling, among the rest) were to evaporate during the approaching hot months, he may have some small chance of t'other swab. Write me, and mind the claret and curacoa. Put no address on either; and on coming to anchor, send notice to old Peterkin in the lodge at the Master Attendant's, and he will relieve you and the pies de gallo, some calm evening, of all farther trouble regarding them. Don't forget the turtle from Crooked Island, and the cigars."

"Always, my dear Transom,"

"Yours sincerely,"

"Oh, I forgot. The Admiral begs you will spare him some steady old hands to act as gunner, boatswain, &c.--elderly men, if you please, who will shorten sail before the squall strikes him. If you float him away with a crew of boys, the little scamp will get bothered, or capsized, in a jiffy. All this for your wors.h.i.+p's government. How do you live with your pa.s.senger--prime follow, an't he? My love to him. Lady----is dying to see him again."

"WELL, MR CRINGLE, what say you?"

"Of course, I must obey, sir;--highly flattered by Mr Secretary's good opinion, any how."

The Captain laughed heartily.

"It is nearly calm, I see. We must set about manning this seventy four for you, without delay. So, come along, Captain Cringle."

When we got on deck,--"Hail the Wave to close, Mr Yerk," said Transom.

"Lower away the boat, and pipe away the yaulers, boatswain's mate."

Presently the Captain and I were on the Wave's deck, where I was much surprised to find no less personages than Pepperpot Wagtail, and Paul Gelid, Esquires. Mr Gelid, a conch, or native of the Bahamas, was the same yawning, drawling, long-legged Creole as ever. He had been ill with fever, and had asked a pa.s.sage to Na.s.sau, where his brother was established. At bottom, however, he was an excellent fellow, warm hearted, honourable, and upright. As for little Wagtail--oh, he was a delight!--a small round man, with all the Jamaica Creole irritability of temper, but also all the Jamaica warmth of heart about him straightforward, and scrupulously conscientious in his dealings, but devoted to good cheer in every shape. He had also been ailing, and had adventured on the cruise in order to recruit. I scarcely know how to describe his figure better than by comparing his corpus to an egg, with his little feet stuck through the bottom of the sh.e.l.l; but he was amazingly active withal.

Both the Captain and myself were rejoiced to see our old friends; and it was immediately fixed that they should go on board the corvette, and sling their cots alongside of Mr Bang, so long as the courses--of the two vessels lay together. This being carried into execution, we set about our arrangements. Our precious blockheads at the dockyard had fitted a thirty-two pound carronade on the pivot, and stuck two long sixes, one on each side of the little vessel. I hate carronades. I had, before now, seen thirty-two pound shot thrown by them jump off a s.h.i.+p's side with a rebound like a football, when a shot from an eighteen-- pounder long gun went crash, at the same range, through both sides of the s.h.i.+p, whipping off a leg and arm, or aiblins a head or two, in its transit.

"My dear sir," said I, "don't shove me adrift with that old pot there do lend me one of your long bra.s.s eighteen-pounders."

"Why, Master Cringle, what is your antipathy to carronades?"

"I have no absolute antipathy to them, sir--they are all very well in their way. For instance, I wish you would fit me with two twelvepound carronades instead of those two popgun long sixes. These, with thirty muskets, and thirty-five men or so, would make me very complete."

"A modest request," said Captain Transom.

"Now, Tom Cringle, you have overshot your mark, my fine fellow," thought I; but it was all right, and that forenoon the cutter was hoisted out with the guns in her, and the others dismounted and sent back in exchange; and in fine, after three days' hard work, I took the command of H.B.M. schooner, Wave, with Timothy Tailtackle as gunner, the senior mids.h.i.+pman as master, one of the carpenter's crew as carpenter, and a boatswain's-mate as boatswain, a surgeon's mate as surgeon, the captain's clerk as purser, and thirty foremast-men, besides the blackies, as the crew. But the sailing of the little beauty had been regularly spoiled. We could still in light winds weather on' the corvette, it is true, but then she was a slow top, unless it blew half a gale of wind; and as for going any thing free, why a sand barge would have beaten us.--We kept company with the Firebrand until we weathered Cape Maize. It was near five o'clock in the afternoon, the corvette was about half a mile on our lee-bow, when, while walking the deck, after an early dinner, Tailtackle came up to me.

"The Commodore has hove-to, sir."

"Very like," said I; "to allow the merchant-s.h.i.+ps to close, I presume."

"A gun," said little Reefpoint. "Ah--what signal now?"--It was the signal to close.

"Put the helm up and run down to him," said I. It was done--and presently the comfortable feeling of bowling along before the breeze, succeeded the sharp yerking digging motion of the little vessel, tearing and pitching through a head sea, close upon a wind. The water was buzzing under our bows, and we were once more close under the stern of the corvette. There was a boat alongside ready manned. The Captain hailed, "I sent your orders on board, Mr Cringle, to bear up on your separate cruise." At the same moment, the Firebrand's ensign and pennant were hoisted--we did the same--a gun from the Commodore--ditto from the tidy little Wave--and lo! Thomas Cringle, esquire, launched for the first time on his own bottom.

By this time the boat was alongside, with Messieurs Aaron Bang, Pepperpot Wagtail, and Paul Gelid--the former with his cot, and half a dozen cases of wine, and some pigs, and some poultry, all under the charge of his black servant.

"Hillo," said I--"Mr Wagtail is at home here, you know, Mr Bang, and so is Mr Gelid; but to what lucky chance am I indebted for your society, my dear sir?"

"Thank your stars, Tom--Captain Cringle, I beg pardon--and be grateful; I am sick of rumbling tumbling in company with these heavy tools of merchantmen, so I entreated Transom to let me go and take a turn with you, promising to join the Firebrand again at Na.s.sau."

"Why, I am delighted,"--and so I really was. "But, my dear sir--I may lead you a dance, and, peradventure into trouble--a small vessel may catch a Tartar, you know.

"D--n the expense," rejoined my jovial ally; "why, the hot little epicurean Wagtail, and Gelid, cold and frozen as he is, have both taken a fancy to me--and no wonder, knowing my pleasant qualities as they do ahem; so, for their sakes, I volunteer on this piece of knight-errantry as much as'--

"Poo--you be starved, Aaron dear," rapped out little Wagtail; "you came here, because you thought you should have more fun, and escape the formality of the big s.h.i.+p, and eke the Captain's sour claret."

"Ah," said Gelid, "my fine fellow," with his usual Creole drawl, "you did not wait for my opinion. Ah--oh--why, Captain Cringle, a thousand pardons. Friend Bang, there, swears that he can't do without you; and all he says about me is neither more nor less than humbug--ah."

"My lovely yellowsnake," quoth Aaron, "and my amiable dumpling, gentlemen both, now, do hold your tongues.--Why, Tom, here we are, never you mind how, after half a quarrel with the skipper--will you take us, or will you send us back, like rejected addresses?"

"Send you back, my boys! No, no, too happy to get you." Another gun from the corvette. "Firebrands, you must shove off. My compliments, Wiggins, to the Captain, and there's a trifle for you to drink my health, when you get into port." The boat shoved off--the corvette filled her maintopsail. "Put the helm down--ease off the mainsheet stand by to run up the squaresail. How is her head, Mr Tailtackle?"

Timothy gave a most extraordinary grin at my bestowing the Mister on him for the first time.

"North-west, sir."

"Keep her so"--and having bore up, we rapidly widened our distance from the Commodore and the fleet.

All men know, or should know, that on board of a man-of-war, there is never any "yo heave oh'ing." That is confined to merchant vessels. But when the crew are having a strong pull of any rope, it is allowable for the man next the belaying pin, to sing out, in order give unity to the drag, "one-two-three," the strain of the other men increasing with the figure. The tack of the mainsail had got jammed somehow, and on my desiring it to be hauled up, the men, whose province it was, were unable to start it.

"Something foul aloft," said I.

Tailtackle came up. "What are you fiddling at, men? Give me here-one two-three."

Crack went the strands of the rope under the paws of the t.i.tan, whereby the head of the outermost sailor pitched right into Gelid's stomach, knocked him over and capsized him head foremost into the wind sail which was let down through the skylight into the little well cabin of the schooner. It so happened that there was a bucket full of Spanish brown paint standing on the table in the cabin, right below the hoop of the canva.s.s funnel, and into it plopped the august pate of Paul Gelid, esquire. Bang had, in the meantime, caught him by the heels, and with the a.s.sistance of Pearl, the handsome negro formerly noticed, who, from his steadiness, had been spared to me as a quartermaster, the conch was once more hoisted on deck, with a scalp of red paint, reaching down over his eyes.

"I say," quoth Bang, "Gelid, my darling, not quite so smooth as the real Maca.s.sar, eh? Shall I try my hand--can shave beautifully--eh?"

"Ah," drawled Gelid, "don't require it--lucky my head was shaved in that last fever, Aaron dear. Ah--let me think--you tall man--you sailor-- fellow--ah--do me the favour to sc.r.a.pe me with your knife--ah--and pray call my servant."

Timothy, to whom he had addressed himself, set to, and sc.r.a.ped the red paint off his poll; and having called his servant, Chew Chew, handed him over to the negro, who, giving his arm to him, helped him below, and with the a.s.sistance of Cologne water, contrived to scrub him decently clean.

As the evening fell, the breeze freshened; and during the night it blew strong, so that from the time we bore up, and parted company with the Firebrand, until day-dawn next morning, we had run 130 miles or thereby to the northward and westward, and were then on the edge of the Great Bahama Bank. The breeze now failed us, and we lay roasting in the sun until mid-day, the current sweeping us to the northward, and still farther on to the bank, until the water shoaled to three fathoms. At this time the sun was blazing fiercely right overhead; and from the shallowness of the water, there was not the smallest swell, or undulation of the surface. The sea, as far as the eye could reach, was a sparkling light green, from the snow-white sand at the bottom, as if a level desert had been suddenly submerged under a few feet of crystal clear water, which formed a cheery spectacle, when compared with the customary leaden, or dark blue-colour of the rolling fathomless ocean.

It was now dead calm.--"Fis.h.i.+ng lines there--Idlers, fis.h.i.+ng lines,"

said I; and in a minute there were forty of them down over the side.

In Europe, fish in their shapes partake of the sedate character of the people who inhabit the coasts of the seas or rivers in which they swim at least I think so. The salmon, the trout, the cod, and all the other tribes of the finny people, are reputable in their shapes, and altogether respectable-looking creatures. But, within the tropics, Dame Nature plays strange vagaries; and here, on the great Bahama Bank, every new customer, as he floundered in on deck--no joke to him, poor fellow--elicited shouts of laughter from the crew. They were in no respect shaped like fish of our cold climates; some were all head others all tail-some, so far as shape went, had their heads where, with submission, I conceived their tails should have been; and then the colours, the intense brilliancy of the scales of these monstrous looking animals! We hooked up a lot of bonitos, 10 Lbs apiece, at the least. But Wagtail took small account of them.

"Here," said Bang, at this moment, "by all that is wonderful, look here!" And he drew up a fish about a foot long, with a crop like a pigeon of the tumbler kind, which began to make a loud snorting noise.

"Ah," drawled Gelid, "good fish, with claret sauce."

"Daresay," rejoined Aaron; "but do your Bahama fish speak, Paul, eh?

Balaam's a.s.s was a joke to this fellow."

I have already said that the water was not quite three fathoms deep, and it was so clear that I could see down to the very sand, and there were the fish cruising about in great numbers.

"Haul in, Wagtail--you have hooked him," and up came a beautiful black grouper, about four pounds weight.

"Ah, there is the regular jiggery-jiggery," sung out little Reefpoint, at the same moment, as he in turn began to pull up his line. "Stand by to land him," and a red snapper, for all the world like a gigantic gold fish, was hauled on board; and so we carried on, black snappers, red snappers, and rock fish, and a vast variety, for all of which, however, Wagtail had names pat, until at length I caught a most lovely dolphin--a beauty to look at--but dry, terribly dry to eat. I cast it on the deck, and the chameleon tints of the dying fish, about which so many lies have been said and sung, were just beginning to fade, and wax pale, and ashy, and deathlike, when I felt another strong jiggery jiggery at my line, which little Reefpoint had, in the meantime, baited afresh. "Zounds! I have caught a whale--a shark at the very least" and I pulled him in, hand over hand.

"A most n.o.ble Jew fish," said I.