The Flying Bo'sun Part 8

The loneliness of the sea must be responsible for this. And yet in their home life, they are ruled and dominated by their wives and children. I remember one old captain I sailed with in the China Seas. Fight? He loved it, ash.o.r.e and afloat, and was very proud of his ability, claiming that he never took the count. The latter I know to be true. We left ports while I was sailing with him, where much furniture was easily adaptable for firewood.

When in the home port where his wife was, if he had spent more than she allowed him, I would have to make up the difference. She would come down to the s.h.i.+p and say: "Herman, come here, I want you to do so and so." He would look at me, but never ashamed, and say, "Well, what in h.e.l.l can I do?"

"But, Captain, I want your advice on so and so."

"Never mind now," he would say, "till I steer her away. You know she don't like you too well anyhow. She heard all about the fight we had in Yokohama with the rickshaw men." Away they would go, arm in arm, a very happy couple.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BO'SUN LIGHTS--THE CAPTAIN'S DEATH

I was so worried about the Captain that I had no desire to sleep during the forenoon watch. About eleven o'clock he came to my room saying:

"I can't stand this pain, it is driving me wild. You take charge of the s.h.i.+p. Take every possible advantage you can, until we run out of the doldrums. Here are charts covering the South Sea Isles, and here,"

pointing to a small box, "is the Manifest, and Bill of Health." While looking at the latter I came into contact with his right hand. I was surprised to find that he was burning with fever.

"Captain, may I look at your hand?"

He eyed me with the same suspicion as when I was suggesting treatments on the previous day. But the stubborn nature of him was giving way to a feeling of friends.h.i.+p and sympathy, a sympathy so noticeable in all living creatures when their material existence is in danger.

"Yes, you can look at it, if it will do you any good," holding the hand out for me to take the bandage off. "I don't mind the hand so much as I do this lump under my arm, it is so painful."

With the bandage off I was horrified to see the condition of the wound.

It was turning black, and a fiery red stripe ran up the arm. He must have guessed what was going on in my mind.

"Yes," said he, "it is blood-poisoning, and a d.a.m.ned bad case. Don't tell me what to do for it. I have tried everything I can think of to prevent this condition."

"Let us cut it open and keep it in hot water," said I.

"Tie it up again," he replied angrily, "you are only adding insult to injury." He turned to his wife's picture which hung at the head of the bed, saying, "You understand, you understand. We may soon sail away through the silvery seas to our Land of the Midnight Sun."

I went on deck thoroughly alarmed at the Captain's condition and aware that, unless a miracle should happen within the next forty-eight hours, he would be dead of septicaemia.

We were still becalmed;--not a breath to curl the blue roll. With booms and sails swinging and wailing as she rolled and pitched in the trough of the sea, the angry G.o.ds of the Celestial World belched forth their wrath in thunder and lightning. This, coupled with the condition of the Captain, made me feel, as never before, the utter lonesomeness of the sea. It was useless, with the clouded skies, to try to get a position of the s.h.i.+p for drift. She had made no progress by log for twenty hours. I was anxious to know the course and speed of the current.

In going forward to see what the crew was doing, I met Olsen coming aft, holding a wet rag over his eye.

He said, "I have had trouble with Swanson, he refuses to work s.h.i.+p. He thinks it is not necessary to tack and boxhaul, he wants to wait for the wind."

Olsen had the real thing, if black eyes count in the performance of one's duty.

"Are you afraid of him?" said I. "If you are, keep away from him. You will only spoil him, and make him believe that he is running the s.h.i.+p.

Here," and I pulled a belaying-pin out from the fife-rail, "Go forward and work this on him."

"No," said Olsen, "he is too big and strong for me. He told me that there is no one on board big and strong enough to make him work. I understand that he almost killed a mate named La.r.s.en--"

Here the cook interrupted, saying: "Mr. Mate, the Captain wants you in the cabin."

"Do you want me, sir?"

"Yes, this pain is killing me, killing me, don't you realize how I am suffering? Why did you leave me? Why don't you do something to relieve me of this burning h.e.l.l?"

I did realize that the poison was general, and that he was becoming delirious. The unshaven face, the ruffled hair, the dry parched lips, the wild staring. It was plain that for him Valhalla lay in the offing.

"Yes, Captain," said I, "you are suffering, but strong men like you must be brave. You, who for years weathered the storms of Seven Seas, must now keep off the lee sh.o.r.e. The wind will soon be off the land. Then ho!

for the ocean deep."

"You are very kind," he said, collecting himself to try to cheer me up, "but it is no use. For I can see the lee sh.o.r.e with its submerged and dangerous reefs, I can hear the billows roar, and watch the thunderous sea pour its defiance on the ragged crags of granite. Yes, I am drifting, drifting there."

After cutting open the hand and arm, and bathing in salt solution, he felt somewhat relieved, and decided that he would try to sleep. Leaving him in charge of the cook, with instructions to keep him in bed, I went on deck with a heavy heart, realizing that soon I should be responsible for the crew and cargo.

Old Charlie was at the wheel. "How is the Captain, sir?"

"He is a very sick man, Charlie."

"Look, look," he cried, "there he comes, lower and lower," and he pointed to the maintopmast truck. "Great Heavens, he is going to alight!

Yes, yes; there he sits," and there, sure enough, sat the most beautiful bird in the tropics, the Flying Bo'sun.

I spent the afternoon sitting with the Captain, who was still sleeping.

At five o'clock I tried to arouse him, but found that he had lapsed into a state of coma. I left Olsen and the cook looking after him while I went to see to the s.h.i.+p.

About eleven o'clock I felt very sleepy, having then been without sleep for eighteen hours. In order to keep awake, I decided to walk on the deck-load until Olsen relieved me. It was while thus walking that I went asleep, and fell, or walked, overboard.

The deck-load of lumber is always stowed with the shear of the s.h.i.+p and flush with the sides or bulwarks. There is no rail or lifeline, and hence the sudden plunge. Coming to the surface I was very much awake, and swimming to the chain plates, I easily pulled myself out of the water, and into the rigging, and up onto the deck. While I was wringing out my pants, Old Charlie came creeping aft, saying: "Mr. Mate, something is going to happen from his visit today."

"To h.e.l.l with your Flying Bo'sun," I snapped, "you are always predicting death and ghosts and so on."

I was sorry that I had spoken to the old sailor this way, but after falling fifteen feet into the ocean, and just, by the chance of a calm, saving my life, I was in no mood to tolerate the re-incarnated souls of drowned sailors that were living in Old Charlie's Flying Bo'sun.

Charlie, much distressed at having the omens he loved so dearly so lightly disregarded, slunk away in the shadow of the mainsail.

Riley, the man on the lookout, was true to his trust, and no object in the hazy horizon would escape the vigilance of his squinty left eye.

Evidently he was not carried away by the supernatural things of life, but very much in the material, judging from his song:

"Better days are coming to reward us for our woe, And we'll all go back to Ireland when the landlords go."

When Olsen relieved me on deck, I took his place with the Captain, who, although unconscious, was still hanging to the delicately spun threads of life. As I was sponging the dry and parched lips, I glanced at the picture of her whom he loved so well. How beautiful it would be, if it should come to pa.s.s as he believed, and she should pilot him away in their astral s.h.i.+p to the shades of Valhalla!

While my thoughts ran thus, I was suddenly conscious of a desert stillness. Then creaking booms gave way to a gentle lullaby. The s.h.i.+p no longer rolled and pitched in the trough of the sea. Everything below was peaceful and calm. I could hear Olsen calling:

"Slack away on the boom-tackle, and haul in on your spanker-sheet!"

I knew then that at last we had the long-looked-for southeast trade-winds. With the wind came taut sheets and steady booms, and on the face of the dead Captain there was a smile as if saying:

"Away with you to the tall green palms!"