CHAPTER XIII
THE CAPTAIN GOES ASHORE
Favoured by exquisite weather, and trade-winds hanging well to the northward, theGrampusploughed steadily along towards her objective, no one but the skipper knowing that it was Brava. After the first three days of almost frantic labour the skipper’s experienced eye noted how stale the men had become; want of rest and poor food had reduced them so that threats and blows no longer goaded them; they were fast approaching that stage when nothing matters, and suffering least of all, because it had become a normal condition. So Captain Da Silva, being anything but a fool, ‘let up’ on them as he termed it, not because he considered their punishment at all adequate to the crime they had committed of being beaten in spite of having done their best, but because he needed their services in the future. He restored their regular watches, and although the amount of quite unnecessary work still carried on would have caused a mutiny in any British merchant ship, this crew chuckled to think what a good time they were now having. And, besides, their lives were not so devoid of interest, for there could be no doubt that they were bound to some anchorage—it did not matter much where—they would see the land again and perhaps taste vegetables.
And the sorely wounded mate, despite the roughness of his treatment, the almost utter absence ofnursing, steadily improved. His iron constitution, a certain ox-like patience, and the absence of drugs combined with perfectly pure air—all these helped to make his recovery marvellously rapid. But he almost had a relapse ten days after the accident. He had so far progressed as to be able to sit up upon an improvised little platform by the taffrail, and was watching the sea, when his dull eye suddenly brightened, his form stiffened, and lifting up his voice he raised the cry of ‘Blow!’ The skipper since the surgical operation had held no conversation with the injured man, except one or two of the briefest remarks passed each day, just what were absolutely necessary. But now he spun round on his heel, his black eyes flaming, and shouted, ‘Whar away, Mr. Court? Aloft there! wut ye doin’? Kain’t ye see ’t all?’ Springing up on the little hurricane deck peculiar to all whaleships, he at once caught sight of the whale, a big lone fellow, proceeding in leisurely fashion due south. Without apparently considering for one moment the fact that he had only two boats to use, he issued his orders, sharp and sudden like rifle-shots. Sail was shortened to the topsails, the vessel put upon the other tack; then, springing upon the starboard quarter, where the best boat hung, he shouted, ‘’Way boats!’ sweeping contemptuously away the third mate, who of course was standing by to take his place in his regular craft. A whirring of the sheaves followed, and down went the boat, striking the water fairly and being released at once with a smartness delightful to see. Then, grasping the dangling falls with one hand, the skipper turned to the mate, who layfretting himself into a fever at his inability to move, saying as coolly as if just setting off for a pleasure trip, ‘Guess yew k’n con th’ ship whar y’ air, Mr. Court, kain’t ye?’ ‘Sure, sir,’ murmured the mate, the prospect of being able to do something seeming delightful to him. No answer, but for a moment the skipper’s body was outlined against the sky as he launched himself downwards, struck the boat, seized the steer oar, and issued his orders. Away flew both boats as if the lives of their crews depended upon their utmost speed.
Now, I do not wish to weary my readers with repeated accounts of whale-fights, and therefore I must omit all the circumstantial details of this one. But I do need to say that Captain Da Silva had apparently found exceeding compensation for his late tribulations in this opportune encounter, and he behaved as one possessed of a demon of destruction, to whom no mishap could possibly come. Yet he was by no means reckless. Every precaution that could be taken against disaster he took, but, on the other hand, he neglected no opportunity of rushing in whenever and wherever the slightest opening presented itself. Scorning bomb-lances, he used only the long primitive spear, and with fiendish howls he ordered the second mate to keep aloof in readiness to aid in case of accident. The whale, evidently an old hand at the game, tried every ruse known to whales, but in vain, for, rolling over towards the oncoming boat, and sinking his body in the middle in order to get a grip of the boat with his gaping jaws, he felt suddenly the diamond-shaped head of a lance gliding through the thick muscles of histhroat downward to his mighty heart. Six feet from that searching point the captain leaned his shoulder upon the lance-butt, lending all his great strength to the thrust. The boat passed to the other side of the body. ‘Pull ahead all!’ yelled the skipper, and out drew the steel, distorted to the likeness of a conventional lightning flash. ‘Pull all!’ again yelled the skipper, and in response the boat shot away from the vast writhing body, so fatally pierced that in three minutes, with a few gigantic convulsions, it lay still, dead.
Again the voice of the skipper arose—no note of triumph in it, no suggestion of rest for his crew. ‘Hull in thet line, lively naow. Hyar yew,’ to the after oarsman, ’histe thet wheft’ (small blue signal flag) ‘’n’ wave fur th’ secon’ mate t’ come up.’ So they hauled up alongside of the whale and cut the line from the harpoon, by which time Mr. Winslow, who had kept close to the fight all the time, was also alongside. ‘Naow,’ shouted the skipper to him, ‘git thet fluke-rope passed ’s if ye knew haow, an’ be ready with yer eend to pass aboard when I come. Pull two, starn three, so, all together,’ and away shot the boat towards the ship, which was coming down towards them at a fine rate. So fast, indeed, did the two craft draw together, that barely ten minutes had elapsed from the time the skipper’s boat left the whale until he was again on board and, hoisting his boat, was issuing his orders as if he were an engineer handling the cranks, levers, and throttle-valves of his engines. Now he was in his element—now he felt the primal delight of power—to rule his fellows and bend to his moulding will. The whale was not largeas regards bulk, but full of fatness—so full, indeed, that the utmost care must needs be exercised lest the hoisting gear should tear out of the almost rotten blubber. The operations were conducted in peerless fashion, the skipper being apparently the mind of all hands—his late disablement appeared to have given him an impetus that none of his previous experiences had supplied. So great, indeed, was he that muttering passed from man to man after this fashion: ‘Oh, but he’s a horse, ain’t he?’ ‘Don’t he do it?’ ‘What a man he is!’ &c.
The work of securing the spoil was carried on with such vigour, such exquisite skill, and due apportionment of labour, that before the day was closed all the worst of the duty was done, and the skipper strode proudly the scanty limits of his quarter-deck with the mien of a man who could not possibly learn from any a better way of doing his work. And, as I have already noted, he had also earned the intense admiration of all hands, although each one of those men was aching from head to heel with the extraordinary strain put upon him.
And Priscilla? Well, she had not suffered. She had learnt to wait in patience the outcome of all things—not to be distressed by strange noises as of strife, or no less strange interludes of silence, when it seemed as if everyone but herself was dead. Even when upon the deep quiet (as of the grave) which enwrapped her there impinged a great noise, she did not shrink or shudder: she just looked up and was comforted. That she should have been thus becalmed, as it were, in the midst of tempests, that to her wilful, wayward heart should have come so bountiful ameasure of the Divine patience, will naturally seem incredible to many—quite as great a miracle as the raising of the widow’s son. But, thank God! there are also many of us who know that such miracles are daily wrought by the direct interposition of God. Sometimes man is honoured by being the instrument in such cases, but more often they are the outcome of an answer given by the trembling, tired soul out into the darkness whence comes the comforting, still small voice.
When at last the skipper came down he wore all the self-conferred honours of a successful tyrant. He had vindicated his position as the one man who could do things without making mistakes, who could be depended upon to come upon the scene when disaster seemed imminent, and, taking the helm of affairs, conduct them triumphantly to victory. And the knowledge was almost too much for him. He strode into his state-room and flung his orders at Priscilla much as if she had been a negro slave—with little distinction between her and the steward. And she, with calmest demeanour, obeyed him to the foot of the letter. She gave him no cause of complaint, and to his intense surprise he found himself looking furtively at her and wondering how it was she did not cry or protest or do something, anything except act like one whom nothing could make unhappy or disobedient. At last he could no longer endure the spur of his curiosity, and he said, in strangely subdued tones (the steward having gone on deck), ‘Wut’s th’ matter with ye, Pris? Ain’t feelin’ sick, air ye? Yer lookin’ kinder curis, y’ know.’ She turned her calm face to him and said, ‘No, Ramon; I’m feeling very well, thank you.Is there anything more I can do for you?’ He did not answer. For his keen Latin wits had come up against something that was quite outside of his experience. Something of the baffled rage of the early persecutors possessed him as he realised that his wife had passed into a region from which he was quite shut out. So he hurled a savage curse, a farrago of Portuguese blasphemy, at her, which sounded like the rattling of manacles, and passed on deck again.
Remember, if you would blame Priscilla for not trying to win this bad man, that she knew him, knew that any language she might use would be utterly unintelligible to him, knew that his long and successful career of cruelty had hardened in him all the baser attributes, and she felt it would be hopeless to try. She felt, too, that she would only be bringing more suffering down upon herself, and was not at all confident as to the limit of her endurance. She was wrong, of course: she had not a sufficiently ample idea of the power of God to save. But we dare not blame her: many of us in her position would have gone mad. And she did pray for him, but without the faintest belief that her prayer would be answered. She felt, as Mr. Moody once expressed it, as if when she prayed for that man the heavens above her were as brass, that prayers on his behalf could not ascend.
So theGrampussped onward towards Brava under the most favourable conditions possible. The work of securing the spoil of the whale was carried through in marvellous fashion; the wind held true to the north, even sometimes a point to the westward of north, and freshened enough to give the old ship a speed, rap-full, of five knots an hour. Whether itwas any anticipation of meeting old acquaintances (a man like that never has friends) or not, the skipper, too, was certainly less severe than usual in his treatment of his men. He even condescended to inquire occasionally after the health of his mate, who was doing wonderfully well in the pure air and utter lack of all medicine, aided by his splendid constitution. So well, indeed, did the old ship progress, that by the time she had been restored to her ordinary condition of spotless cleanliness, the beautiful outlines of the islands were sighted, and all hands, with quickened pulse-beats, began to look forward to a little change in the ordered monotony of their lives. But great was their disappointment when they found that, instead of going as closely in as was safe, the Captain anchored his ship in thirty fathoms of water—far out to sea. And without the loss of an hour he ordered his boat to be manned (by Portuguese only), and, dressed like a bridegroom, mounted the rail preparatory to descending. The second mate stood near; the mate listened from the corner aft, where he sat helpless, with painful earnestness for any word the skipper might drop of his intentions.
‘See here, Mr. Winslow,’ drawled the skipper, ‘ye’ll keep the men at work, watch on watch, same’s at sea. Yew’ll keep a bright look-out for me comin’ back, as I shall be ’fore long, anyway. An’ if anythin’ happens ’at ye want me sudden, set the ensign at the peak.’ And without another word he was gone, and his boat’s crew, with the splendid stroke of the trained American whaleman, was making the pretty craft fly towards the shore, its captain standing erect in the stern, handling his steer-oar, likea figure of stone. The second mate watched him out of definition range, then, descending from the rail with a sigh, he sought the mate, saying, ‘Well, Mr. Court, whut ye think of him? Ain’t he a daisy? I really dunno haow it es, but th’ wuss he is th’ more I admire at him, until his back’s turned, ’n’ then I want t’ kill him. An’,’ dropping his voice, ‘d’ jever before in a ’Merican ship see a lady treated like this one? I have stood, I k’n stand, a good deal frum him, but if ever he raises his hand t’ thet poor broken-hearted woman when I’m erroun’ I’m goin’t’ kill him right in his tracks—naow, yew hear me!’ ‘Oh, shet yer head!’ fretfully replied the mate. ‘I know all abaout thet; wut’s th’ use er chawin’ it over? What I wunt t’ know is, wut sort of a gang of dagoes is he goin’ t’ bring with him. All his own relations, I suppose, ’n’ thar’ll be the usual amount er spyin’ an’ lyin’ an’ devilishness generally. If only I had this leg ’n’ arm o’ mine usable! I ben thinkin’ over a good many things sense I ben a-laying here, I tell ye, but I got one idea solid, ’n’ that is thet, live er die, I’m a-goin’ t’ stand up t’ him an’ whoever he brings aboard here, an’ hev’ my rights as mate. You, too, I know, Winslow; but only as man to man; no hatchin’ anything’ or conspirin’. We’ll leave that to them. But I do wish we could help the poor woman.’
‘Thank you, friends,’ said Priscilla, who had glided on deck and overheard the last portion of the mate’s remarks. ‘It’s very good of you to think about me, but I shall be grateful if you will behave as if I were not on board. I cannot, must not, be a source of trouble, and, moreover, the Captain is my husband. Now don’t, please don’t, think of helpingme, as you call it, any more. I’ve got help of the best kind always available. I didn’t know I had until a short time ago. I’d forgotten God, as it seems to me Godisforgotten at sea. But when I was ready to go mad with what I thought was my undeserved trouble, He came to my rescue, and now I feel I can bear anything. And, anyhow, what is my trouble compared with yours? Ah, Mr. Court, I have felt so much for you in your awful pain, and not to be able to help you at all. Are you in pain now?’ ‘Oh, no, ma’am, thank you kindly,’ murmured the mate; ‘that’s all over and done with. Anyhow, it was never quite as bad as you might think. Sounds a good deal worse than it is. I’m hurt more at havin’ to lie here doin’ nothin’ than by any pain I’ve got.’ ‘Well, I’m glad to hear you say so. Now I must go down. I feel that I’m doing wrong sitting up here talking to you, as I should certainly not be doing if my husband were here.’ And she departed below, leaving the two mates, with a totally new set of sensations, staring at each other dumbly.
Unfortunately, mischief had been done. One of the Portuguese sailors had been ostensibly occupied in renewing the seizings on the mizen shrouds, but for the last ten minutes he had devoted all his faculties to listening. Vainly; he did not know enough of the language to take in the conversation, but he knew that the Captain’s wife had been talking for a long time to the two mates. And he determined that the knowledge should not be wasted. The two officers, so deeply interested were they, did not notice this man, and when presently the second mate almost guiltily resumed his oversight of themen and their work he did not even see Lazzaro furtively glancing at him from the mizen rigging. No more was said by either of the mates or Mrs. Da Silva on the subject, and the work of the ship went on throughout the day with something of its old machine-like regularity. Night fell, and still no sign of the skipper. With deepening distrust and anxiety the officer saw the watches set, attending to every detail of his duties with the utmost fidelity, and reporting at eight o’clock all his doings to the mate. Mr. Court sent a respectful message to Priscilla on hearing this, acquainting her with the condition of affairs and assuring her that she had no cause for alarm. She would receive instant attention to her lightest wish, and probably the Captain would be aboard before morning. And so, quietly enough to all outward seeming, but with much anxiety among the afterguard, the night passed away.
Ashore the Captain was having what sailors term a mighty good time. Congenial spirits awaited him of both sexes, long known to him, and, flinging aside all the restraints he felt he had been bound by during the last year, he plunged into the wildest excesses. He was one of those men to whom such an outburst, even at very long intervals, seems a necessity of life—one that when the opportunity for obtaining it arrives can by no effort of will be refrained from, although it is hard to suppose that such an effort is ever made or attempted. And yet he could be, as far as abstention from vulgar vice was concerned, a very eremite for a year at a time, otherwise he would never have reached his present position; for the American shipowner—or, indeed, employer of anykind—is entirely intolerant of drunkenness or debauchery among his servants, and will have none of it if by any means he can prevent it. Now, however, his boat’s crew disposed of—allowed to run a little riot of their own among their cronies, and merely ordered to turn up in the morning at eight o’clock, bringing six recruits with them, he abandoned himself to the fierce delights of the Latin seaman when let loose.
But in spite of the long night’s excesses there was little alteration in his appearance or manner when he met his men in the morning, noting with high approval that they had succeeded in obtaining the new hands he wanted: six huge piratical-looking ruffians, three of whom were of that peculiar type of Portuguese which can only be found in the islands of the North-West Atlantic—men, that is, with the high-bred facial characteristics of the Portuguese allied to a perfect blackness of skin. Some of these men are of great size, and almost all of them know something about sperm-whaling, since all of these islands were for hundreds of years most prolific haunts of the cachalot. Therefore they have always been welcomed as recruits for whaleships, their undoubted courage and great powers of endurance adding to their desirability. But to Captain Da Silva they represented more than these advantages. They were his own countrymen, and might be relied upon to abet him in any scheme of devilry he might devise, in which he would certainly lack the support of his American officers. And a dim idea of vengeance upon those officers was certainly taking shape within his mind, which, once definitely arranged, he would spare no pains to carry out nor allow any peevish scruples to prevent himdoing so.
With a few quiet words to the newcomers about pay, position, &c., also the time of meeting to make the engagement—a very simple matter in those ships—he gave them some money, and went his way to purchase three new whaleboats. In this he was also fortunate, for a local bay whaling company had just dissolved partnership, and all their gear was on sale. He succeeded in purchasing from the representative of the late company four boats and a large quantity of gear for less than half their ordinary value, which pleased him so much that he determined to stay another night ashore and continue his enjoyment. But first he made arrangements for his new purchases to be taken off to the ship. The only message he condescended to send was that the boat should return for him the next day at 10A.M.And not an ounce of fresh meat or fruit or vegetables went off. These articles were cheap enough in all conscience, but Captain Da Silva never pampered his crew, especially this early in a long voyage, and, besides, there was punishment to be carried out. And no form of punishment on board ship as applied to a whole crew is more effective than to be anchored near a fruitful shore after months of bad salt food and be denied a taste of the delicious things they can almost see growing. Under ordinary conditions such a deprivation would be next to impossible, as there are always people along shore anxious to earn a little by catering for the needs of a ship’s company, except in the most savage lands. And if there be no money on board, barter can always be resorted to: quite a quantity of sweet potatoes, oranges, or bananas can be obtained fora shirt. The Captain, however, had arranged all that; according to his wishes not a boat had been near his ship. And, besides, she was a long way out.
When the officers saw the gear and boats, and received the message, they looked at each other significantly, but said no word. Mr. Court, now able to hobble about, took charge of operations, and in quite a short time the newly acquired boats had been placed in position, had each received a coat of white paint, that being the colour of theGrampus’sboats, their gear fitted to them, and everything made ready for their lowering to a whale. They came alongside at midday, and by nightfall were ready for use. During all this activity Priscilla had been quite forgotten. The officers felt doubtful how she would receive any information about her husband which, in answer to questions, they might have felt tempted to supply, so they did not mention the matter. Only the genial darkey steward, in the perfectly respectful yet familiar manner common to negro servants in America, chatted away to his mistress, and kept her from being too lonely or dwelling too much upon the unknown reasons which had induced her husband to leave her on board the ship for two days without giving her any information at all of his doings. Had she known it, she might have felt surprised that he had never so much as given her a thought. But she would hardly have been grieved at anything he did now to her, having fortified her mind against the worst that could befall.
Punctually at the time appointed the boat arrivedat the place ordered by the Captain, who almost immediately appeared, and gave orders for the transhipment to the boat of a number of cases. Altogether they made a heavy cargo for such a frail boat; but whalers are most expert at this business, and effect transportation by means of these boats that seems impossible to any ordinary sailormen. This done they shoved off, Captain Da Silva standing erect in the stern, his eyes fixed upon his ship, and noting detail after detail as they became visible. A frown, never entirely absent from his handsome face, deepened upon it as he failed to see any cause for complaint. She looked beautifully trim; not a rope yarn out of its place, the weather-beaten patches on her side carefully touched up, the boats all bright with new paint, the three mastheads manned, and, as he came alongside, the mate at the gangway to receive him, and the crew all standing by the boat’s falls ready to hoist her up the moment he should step on board.
As he put his foot on the rail, Mr. Court said, ‘Good morning, sir.’ But instead of replying, the Captain said, ‘Whyn’t ye git under weigh?’ And without pausing for an answer shouted: ‘Man th’ windlass.’ The cry was re-echoed all over the ship, and almost immediately nothing could be heard for the clatter of the pawls as the big windlass barrel revolved at top speed. ‘Down frum aloft there an’ loose sail, courses, taups’les, an’ t’gallantsails,’ again shouted the Captain. ‘Lively naow; think yer goin’ t’ sit up thar an’ sleep while th’ ship’s gittin’ under weigh?’ Oh, he was a hustler, was Captain Da Silva. In ten minutes from the time he came on board the boat’s cargo was discharged, she was hoisted, theGrampuswas under weigh, and pointing south for the resumption of the long and weary voyage. Then, and not till then, did the skipper condescend to say anything to his chief officer. He called him, and with a coldly sarcastic curl of his lip as he saw him hobbling aft on improvised crutches, he said, ‘Anythin’ t’ report?’ ‘No, sir,’ replied Mr. Court, ‘’cept thet I’ve returned t’ duty.’ ‘No need t’ reportthet, anyhaow,’ growled the skipper; ‘I k’n use my eyes. But yew don’t look pretty, ’n thet’s a fact. Mout’s well hide yerself a bit longer, moutn’t ye? Hain’t gut tired doin’ nawthin’, I’m sure.’ ‘See here, Captain Da Silva,’ hissed the mate, ‘you’ve gut th’ whip hand now, I’ll own, but if ever I git on equal terms with ye, all this’ll hev t’ be settled fur.’ ‘Go, lie daown, dog,’ muttered the Captain. ‘I’ll attend t’ you an’ all th’ rest right along ’n’ git all th’ sleep I need too.’ And theGrampusbegan to rise and fall gently to the incoming swell as the Captain went below.