CHAPTER V.THE TWO CHAMPIONS.
For a week nothing occurred to relieve the dull monotony of their life. The crew worked early and late, and under the skilful hands of the carpenter and his assistants the masts, spars, and booms that were to take the place of those that had been lost during the gale, began to assume shape, and were finally ready for setting up. The timber of which the most of them were made was brought from the shore, and Frank kept such close watch over the boats, and the crews and workmen who went off in them, that the natives never molested them. If the Malays had kept out of sight on the first day of their arrival, the boys might have believed the island to be uninhabited, for they saw no signs of life there now.
On board the schooner everything was donedecently and in order, as it always was. The rescued men were all on their feet now, and able to do duty. All but four of them—those suspected of being escaped convicts—were able seamen, and these lent willing and effective aid in the work of refitting the vessel. They were all Englishmen, but for some reason or other they were not as arrogant and overbearing as the majority of their countrymen seem to be, and the best of feeling prevailed between them and the Stranger’s crew.
For a few days Waters conducted himself with the utmost propriety. He seemed to be awed by his recent narrow escape from death, and so entirely wrapped up in his meditations that he could hardly be induced to speak to anybody. But the impressions he had received gradually wore off as his bruises and scratches began to heal and his strength to come back to him, and he assumed an impudent swagger as he went about his work, that made the second mate look at him pretty sharply. He recovered the use of his tongue too, and began to talk in a way that did not suit the old boatswain’smate, who one day sternly commanded him to work more and jaw less. This reprimand kept Waters in shape for a day or two, and then he appeared to gain confidence again, and got himself into a difficulty that was rather more serious. Swaggering aft one morning after breakfast with a borrowed pipe in his mouth, he suddenly found himself confronted by the officer of the deck, who stepped before him.
“You have no business back here,” said Mr. Parker. “Go for’ard where you belong.”
Waters took his pipe out of his mouth, and drawing himself up to his full height, scowled down at the officer, “Look ’ere,” said he, with his English twang; “hif you knowed me, you’d know hit’s jist a trifle dangerous for heny man of your hinches to stand afore me.”
“I am second mate of this vessel,” answered Mr. Parker, hotly, “and any more such language as that will get you in the brig. Go for’ard where you belong.”
Like a surly hound that had been beaten by hismaster, Waters turned about and went back to the forecastle. He was sullen all that day, and “soldiered”—that is, shirked his work—so persistently that the old boatswain’s mate was almost beside himself.
“I don’t like the cut of that fellow’s jib, cap’n,” said Barton, as he ranged up alongside of Frank that night after the boats had been hoisted at the davits, and the boarding nettings triced up. “He’s spoiling for a row. He says if Lucas calls him a lubber again he’s going to knock him down. He’s no good. Do you know what he was going aft for this morning? Well, I do. He was going to take a look at the old man’s strong box. You know it stands in the cabin right where you can see it through the skylights.”
“Why did he want to take a look at the strong box?” asked Frank. “Has he any designs upon it?”
“If he hasn’t, what makes him ask so many questions, sir?” asked the coxswain, in reply. “He’s pumped the crew, easy like, till he’s foundout everything. He wanted to know how much we got a month, and when one of the men told him that we could each have a handful of bright new yellow-boys to spend in our next port if we wanted it, but that the old man had advised us, friendly like, to leave all our earnings in his hands and he would pay us interest on it at the end of the cruise, same as the bank—when he found this out he wanted to know where the old man kept his money and how much he had. Now what did he want to know that for, sir?”
“What, indeed!” thought Frank, as Barton hurried away in obedience to some orders. “He will bear watching, I think. I wish he was safe ashore.”
Frank lost no time in making Uncle Dick acquainted with what he had heard. The old sailor looked grave while he listened, and although he said nothing in Frank’s hearing, he told Mr. Baldwin privately to keep Waters so busily employed that he would have no time to think of mischief, and at the very first sign of insubordination to promptly put him where he would be powerless towork harm to the vessel or any of her crew. Waters made the sign the very next morning. At five o’clock he was ordered to assist in pumping out the schooner, and he obeyed with altogether too much deliberation to suit Lucas, who was accustomed to see men hurry when they were spoken to. This was the way Waters always obeyed an order. He seemed to think he could do as he pleased, and no one would dare take him to task for it. But when the old boatswain’s mate was on duty he was on duty all over, and any of his men who neglected their work were sure to be called to account. He had been very patient with Waters because he was a landsman, but he could not stand “soldiering.”
“I wish this was a man-o’-war now, and that flogging had not been abolished,” said Lucas, as Waters came slowly up to the pump, staring impudently at the mate as if to ask him what he was going to do about it. “It would do me good to start you with a cat-o’-nine tails.”
“Do you think the likes o’ you could use a cat on me now?” sneered Waters.
“I’ve used it on many a better man,” was the quick reply. “Make haste, you lubber. I’ll stand this no longer. I’ll report”—
What it was that the old mate was going to report he did not have time to tell, for Waters suddenly drew one of his huge fists back to his shoulder, and when he straightened it out again Lucas went spinning across the deck, rolling over and over, and finally bringing up against the bulwarks. Every one who saw it—and every one who belonged to the schooner was on deck, except her captain—was amazed at the ease with which it was done.
Of course the excitement ran high at once. During the two years and more that had passed since the schooner left Bellville, a blow had never been struck on her deck, and never had an oath been heard there until these rescued men were brought aboard. The whole crew arose as one man, not to punish the offender for striking the petty officer, but to secure him before he could do any more mischief. But Waters was fairly aroused, and acted more like a mad brute than a human being. Hebacked up against the bulwarks, and in less time than it takes to tell it, prostrated the entire front rank of his assailants, including Barton, Rodgers, the Doctor, as the negro cook was called, and the old gray-headed sailor who had so badly frightened Dick Lewis by telling him that one of the Sandwich Islands was the equator, and that when they passed it they would be on the under side of the earth.
Having cleared a space in front of him, Waters sprang to the windlass, and seizing a handspike, was back against the bulwarks again before any one could prevent him. “Stand by me, mates,” he roared, “and we’ll take the ship. Back me hup, and we’ll drive these Yankees hover among the sharks.”
“I declare!” gasped Eugene, who was the first of the frightened boys who could find his tongue, “he’s started at last, and he’ll walk across the deck with that handspike as though there was no one here. The best men in the crew are like so many straws in his way.”
All these incidents which we have been so long in describing, occupied but a very few seconds in taking place. Before the astonished officer of the deck could recover himself sufficiently to command the peace, Waters had complete possession of the forecastle. And even when the officer did recover himself the orders he issued might as well have been addressed to the mast, for Waters paid no attention to them.
“Drop that handspike,” shouted Mr. Baldwin, starting forward.
“Yes, I’ll drop it no doubt,” replied Waters. “You remember what you said to me yesterday, don’t you, you fellow with the gold band around your cap? Look hout for yourself, for I’m coming for you now.”
Waters was as good as his word. Swinging his handspike viciously about his head to clear a path before him, he started aft; but before he had made many steps he ran against something, just as Archie had predicted. Dick Lewis and old Bob Kelly had stood silent and amazed spectators of the scene,and Archie, who had expected so much of his backwoods friend in case of disturbance, forgot that he was present. But now the trapper called attention to himself by giving one or two fierce Indian yells, like those that had so often rung in his ears while he was battling with or fleeing from his sworn enemies.
“Whoop! Whoop!” yelled Dick.
The boys looked towards him and saw that he had prepared himself for action by discarding his hat and pushing back his sleeves. Then he crouched like a panther about to make a spring, and in a second more was flying across the deck like an arrow from a bow. Waters saw him coming, and halting, drew back his handspike in readiness to receive him. As the trapper approached within striking distance, the weapon descended with such speed and power that the boys all uttered an exclamation of horror, and Frank involuntarily started forward as if to shield his friend from the blow that seemed about to annihilate him. But Dick was in no need of help. Long experience hadtaught him how to take care of himself in any emergency. A flash of lightning is scarcely quicker than was the movement he made to avoid the descending weapon. It passed harmlessly through the air over his head, and the force with which it was driven sent Waters sideways into the arms of the trapper, while the handspike flew from his grasp and went over the side.
“Stand by me, mates!” roared the giant, as he felt the trapper’s strong arms closing about him with crushing power.
This was all he had time to say—he was not allowed an instant in which to do anything—for before the words had fairly left his lips he was thrown to the deck with stunning force, and held as firmly as if he had been in a vice. Just then Uncle Dick appeared on the scene. “Master-at-arms!” he exclaimed.
“Here, sir,” replied the petty officer, stepping forward. He knew that his services would be required and he was all ready to act. He had a pair of irons in his hand—something the boysdid not suppose could be found in the schooner’s outfit.
“Put them on,” said Uncle Dick. “Now, Lewis,” he added, after the ruffian’s hands and ankles had been securely confined, “let him up.”
“Can’t I give him just one leetle whack for every man he’s knocked down, cap’n?” asked the trapper, flourishing one of his clenched hands in the air.
“Let him up,” repeated Uncle Dick.
The backwoodsman obeyed the order very reluctantly. He arose to his feet, pulling his antagonist up with him.
“Waters, is this the way you repay us for saving your worthless life?” demanded Uncle Dick, sternly. “Some of the men you struck were the very ones who kept you from falling into the hands of the savages on shore.”
“I’ll pay you for it hall afore I am done with you,” gasped the prisoner, panting from the violence of his exertions. “Hand you, my friend in buckskin, I’ll see you some other day when this thing—”
Waters Finds his Master.
Waters Finds his Master.
Waters Finds his Master.
“Silence!” commanded Uncle Dick.
“There’s honly one way to stop my talking and that is to stop my breath,” declared Waters, boldly.
“You will go without food for twenty-four hours for every word you utter,” replied Uncle Dick. “Master-at-arms, take him down and put him in the brig. Mr. Baldwin,” he continued, in a lower tone, “have a sentry put over him with orders to allow him to hold communication with no one.”
The fear of being starved into submission effectually closed the prisoner’s mouth, and without another word he allowed the master-at-arms to lead him below. The boys breathed easier when they saw his head disappear below the combings of the hatchway.
“How did this trouble begin, Mr. Baldwin?” demanded Uncle Dick.
The officer told him in a few words and the captain said, with a smile,
“That is a good deal of work to be done in so short a space of time. I came on deck as soon as I could get up from the table. When we reach Hobart Town I’ll teach this fellow that he can’t strike my men with impunity. You say he called for help from his friends. Did they seem inclined to give it?”
“Yes, sir, one of them did. He picked up a handspike, but lacked the courage to use it. The other two stood still and looked on.”
“Send them to the mast, Mr. Baldwin. They all belong to the same class, and it may be well to have a fair understanding with them.”
Mr. Baldwin passed the order to the old boatswain’s mate, who was going about his work with an eye bunged up, and presently Waters’s three friends came to the mast and respectfully removed their caps. There was no swagger or bluster about them. The defeat of their champion had cowed them completely. Uncle Dick first explained whyhe had brought them there, and then for five minutes talked to them in a way the boys had never heard him talk before. Even Walter and Eugene were surprised to know that their jolly uncle could be so stern and severe. He used words that the men before him could readily understand. He bluntly told them that they were escaped convicts (the start they gave when they heard this showed that he had hit the nail fairly on the head), and that he was just the man to deal with such characters as they were. He would rid his vessel of their unwelcome presence as soon as he could, and give her a good scrubbing from stem to stern after they went. He did not want them there, but while they stayed they must walk a chalk-mark; and if he heard so much as a mutinous eye-wink from any of them, he would show them that the discipline that was maintained on board the Stranger could be made as severe as that to which they had been subjected by their prison taskmasters. That was all, and they might go forward and bear everything he had said to them constantly in mind.
The suspected men, glad to be let off so easily, returned to their work, and we may anticipate events a little by saying that they took the old sailor at his word, and never made the schooner’s company the least trouble—that is, they made them no trouble before they reached Hobart Town, whither the Stranger went to refit. What they did afterward is another matter; we have not come to that yet. We may also say that the trapper won a high place in the estimation of all the foremast hands by the exploit he performed that morning. He had peace after that. None of the sailors ever told him any more stories about the Flying Dutchman, the squids, and the whale that swallowed Jonah. It was not because they were afraid of him—no one who behaved himself could look into the trapper’s wild gray eye and feel the least fear of him—but because they wanted to reward him for what he had done. When the crew assembled around the mess-chest at meals Dick was always the first one waited upon by the mess-cook, and if any of the blue jackets found a tit-bit in the pan,it was always transferred to Dick’s plate. Old Bob also came in for a large share of their attention, and it was not long before these little acts of kindness so worked upon the feelings of the two trappers, that they declared that if the schooner wouldn’t pitch about so with the waves, and they could have a chance to use their rifles now and then, they would as soon be there among the sailors as in the mountains.
Of course the exciting scene of which they had been the unwilling witnesses produced a commotion among the boys, who for a long time could talk about nothing else. If they ever forgot it, one glance at the battered face which the old boatswain’s mate carried about with him would instantly recall it, and set their tongues in motion again. The ease with which the supple trapper had vanquished his huge antagonist, was the occasion of unbounded astonishment to all of them except Frank and Archie. The latter always wound up the conversation by saying:
“Didn’t I tell you that Waters would run againsta stump if he attempted any foolishness? You have heard the expression ’as quick as lightning,’ and now you know what it means. Hold on till we get ashore,” he added, one day, “and I’ll show you some more of it.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Fred.
“I’ll borrow or hire a horse somewhere, and run a race with Dick.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Eugene, “I know from what you have said that the trapper must be very fleet, but he can’t beat a good horse ifIride him.”
“He can run a hundred yards, and turn and run back to the starting-point, and beat the swiftest horse that ever moved,” replied Archie, emphatically, “and you may ride the horse.”
The boys looked toward Frank, who confirmed Archie’s statement by saying that he had seen him win a race of that description, but still they were not satisfied. It was a novel idea to them, this matching a man’s lightness of foot against the speed of a horse, and they longed for an opportunity to see the swift trapper put to the test.
Meanwhile the work of refitting the vessel went steadily on. Having a large force at his command, the work was accomplished in much less time than the captain expected it could be done. The question whether their proposed visit to Japan and India should be given up was discussed, and decided in the affirmative. Uncle Dick gave the boys their choice of two courses of action: they could carry out their original plan, spend a few weeks in Asia, and after they had seen all they wanted to see they would start directly for home by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, stopping during the voyage only when it was necessary to take in fresh supplies of food and water; or they would go to Natal, purchase there a trader’s outfit, and spend a few months travelling about in the interior of Africa, skirmishing with the strange animals they would find there. In either case they must first go to the nearest port, and have the schooner completely overhauled and refitted. She had been badly strained by the gale, and her captain did not consider her safe. The boys decidedon the latter course simply because they knew Uncle Dick wished it.
This was the first time during the voyage that anything had been said about going “home,” and the simple sound of the word was enough to set them to thinking. Up to this time they had been going away from their native land; but now every mile which the schooner passed over brought them nearer to the loved ones they had left behind.