The Ebb-Tide Part 5
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'Fat lot I care,' returned the clerk.
'That so?' said Davis. 'Then you'll berth forward with the n.i.g.g.e.rs! Walk right out of this cabin.'
'Oh, I dessay!' said Huish. 'See any green in my eye? A lark's a lark.'
'Well, now, I'll explain this business, and you'll see (once for all) just precisely how much lark there is to it,' said Davis. 'I'm captain, and I'm going to be it. One thing of three. First, you take my orders here as cabin steward, in which case you mess with us. Or second, you refuse, and I pack you forward--and you get as quick as the word's said.
Or, third and last, I'll signal that man-of-war and send you ash.o.r.e under arrest for mutiny.'
'And, of course, I wouldn't blow the gaff? O no!' replied the jeering Huish.
'And who's to believe you, my son?' inquired the captain. 'No, sir!
There ain't no lark about my captainising. Enough said. Up with these blankets.'
Huish was no fool, he knew when he was beaten; and he was no coward either, for he stepped to the bunk, took the infected bed-clothes fairly in his arms, and carried them out of the house without a check or tremor.
'I was waiting for the chance,' said Davis to Herrick. 'I needn't do the same with you, because you understand it for yourself.'
'Are you going to berth here?' asked Herrick, following the captain into the stateroom, where he began to adjust the chronometer in its place at the bed-head.
'Not much!' replied he. 'I guess I'll berth on deck. I don't know as I'm afraid, but I've no immediate use for confluent smallpox.'
'I don't know that I'm afraid either,' said Herrick. 'But the thought of these two men sticks in my throat; that captain and mate dying here, one opposite to the other. It's grim. I wonder what they said last?'
'Wiseman and Wishart?' said the captain. 'Probably mighty small potatoes. That's a thing a fellow figures out for himself one way, and the real business goes quite another. Perhaps Wiseman said, "Here old man, fetch up the gin, I'm feeling powerful rocky." And perhaps Wishart said, "Oh, h.e.l.l!"'
'Well, that's grim enough,' said Herrick.
'And so it is,' said Davis. 'There; there's that chronometer fixed. And now it's about time to up anchor and clear out.'
He lit a cigar and stepped on deck.
'Here, you! What's YOUR name?' he cried to one of the hands, a lean-flanked, clean-built fellow from some far western island, and of a darkness almost approaching to the African.
'Sally Day,' replied the man.
'Devil it is,' said the captain. 'Didn't know we had ladies on board.
Well, Sally, oblige me by hauling down that rag there. I'll do the same for you another time.' He watched the yellow bunting as it was eased past the cross-trees and handed down on deck. 'You'll float no more on this s.h.i.+p,' he observed. 'Muster the people aft, Mr Hay,' he added, speaking unnecessarily loud, 'I've a word to say to them.'
It was with a singular sensation that Herrick prepared for the first time to address a crew. He thanked his stars indeed, that they were natives. But even natives, he reflected, might be critics too quick for such a novice as himself; they might perceive some lapse from that precise and cut-and-dry English which prevails on board a s.h.i.+p; it was even possible they understood no other; and he racked his brain, and overhauled his reminiscences of sea romance for some appropriate words.
'Here, men! tumble aft!' he said. 'Lively now! All hands aft!'
They crowded in the alleyway like sheep.
'Here they are, sir,' said Herrick.
For some time the captain continued to face the stern; then turned with ferocious suddenness on the crew, and seemed to enjoy their shrinking.
'Now,' he said, twisting his cigar in his mouth and toying with the spokes of the wheel, 'I'm Captain Brown. I command this s.h.i.+p. This is Mr Hay, first officer. The other white man is cabin steward, but he'll stand watch and do his trick. My orders shall be obeyed smartly. You savvy, "smartly"? There shall be no growling about the kaikai, which will be above allowance. You'll put a handle to the mate's name, and tack on "sir" to every order I give you. If you're smart and quick, I'll make this s.h.i.+p comfortable for all hands.' He took the cigar out of his mouth. 'If you're not,' he added, in a roaring voice, 'I'll make it a floating h.e.l.l. Now, Mr Hay, we'll pick watches, if you please.'
'All right,' said Herrick.
'You will please use "sir" when you address me, Mr Hay,' said the captain. 'I'll take the lady. Step to starboard, Sally.' And then he whispered in Herrick's ear: 'take the old man.'
'I'll take you, there,' said Herrick.
'What's your name?' said the captain. 'What's that you say? Oh, that's no English; I'll have none of your highway gibberish on my s.h.i.+p. We'll call you old Uncle Ned, because you've got no wool on the top of your head, just the place where the wool ought to grow. Step to port, Uncle.
Don't you hear Mr Hay has picked you? Then I'll take the white man.
White Man, step to starboard. Now which of you two is the cook? You?
Then Mr Hay takes your friend in the blue dungaree. Step to port, Dungaree. There, we know who we all are: Dungaree, Uncle Ned, Sally Day, White Man, and Cook. All F.F.V.'s I guess. And now, Mr Hay, we'll up anchor, if you please.'
'For Heaven's sake, tell me some of the words,' whispered Herrick.
An hour later, the Farallone was under all plain sail, the rudder hard a-port, and the cheerfully clanking windla.s.s had brought the anchor home.
'All clear, sir,' cried Herrick from the bow.
The captain met her with the wheel, as she bounded like a stag from her repose, trembling and bending to the puffs. The guard boat gave a parting hail, the wake whitened and ran out; the Farallone was under weigh.
Her berth had been close to the pa.s.s. Even as she forged ahead Davis slewed her for the channel between the pier ends of the reef, the breakers sounding and whitening to either hand. Straight through the narrow band of blue, she shot to seaward: and the captain's heart exulted as he felt her tremble underfoot, and (looking back over the taffrail) beheld the roofs of Papeete changing position on the sh.o.r.e and the island mountains rearing higher in the wake.
But they were not yet done with the sh.o.r.e and the horror of the yellow flag. About midway of the pa.s.s, there was a cry and a scurry, a man was seen to leap upon the rail, and, throwing his arms over his head, to stoop and plunge into the sea.
'Steady as she goes,' the captain cried, relinquis.h.i.+ng the wheel to Huish.
The next moment he was forward in the midst of the Kanakas, belaying pin in hand.
'Anybody else for sh.o.r.e?' he cried, and the savage trumpeting of his voice, no less than the ready weapon in his hand, struck fear in all.
Stupidly they stared after their escaped companion, whose black head was visible upon the water, steering for the land. And the schooner meanwhile slipt like a racer through the pa.s.s, and met the long sea of the open ocean with a souse of spray.
'Fool that I was, not to have a pistol ready!' exclaimed Davis. 'Well, we go to sea short-handed, we can't help that. You have a lame watch of it, Mr Hay.'
'I don't see how we are to get along,' said Herrick.
'Got to,' said the captain. 'No more Tahiti for me.'
Both turned instinctively and looked astern. The fair island was unfolding mountain top on mountain top; Eimeo, on the port board, lifted her splintered pinnacles; and still the schooner raced to the open sea.
'Think!' cried the captain with a gesture, 'yesterday morning I danced for my breakfast like a poodle dog.'
Chapter 5. THE CARGO OF CHAMPAGNE
The s.h.i.+p's head was laid to clear Eimeo to the north, and the captain sat down in the cabin, with a chart, a ruler, and an epitome.
'East a half no'the,' said he, raising his face from his labours. 'Mr Hay, you'll have to watch your dead reckoning; I want every yard she makes on every hair's-breadth of a course. I'm going to knock a hole right straight through the Paumotus, and that's always a near touch.
Now, if this South East Trade ever blew out of the S.E., which it don't, we might hope to lie within half a point of our course. Say we lie within a point of it. That'll just about weather Fakarava. Yes, sir, that's what we've got to do, if we tack for it. Brings us through this slush of little islands in the cleanest place: see?' And he showed where his ruler intersected the wide-lying labyrinth of the Dangerous Archipelago. 'I wish it was night, and I could put her about right now; we're losing time and easting. Well, we'll do our best. And if we don't fetch Peru, we'll bring up to Ecuador. All one, I guess. Depreciated dollars down, and no questions asked. A remarkable fine inst.i.tootion, the South American don.'
The Ebb-Tide Part 5
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The Ebb-Tide Part 5 summary
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