ON GOING TO SEA
We sat together upon the quarter-deck under the awning of theHarvest Queen. My own ship lay in the berth opposite, and I had come over for a quiet smoke with Captain Large. He sailed in the morning, and was bound for Frisco around Cape Horn. I would not see him again for a year or two—probably never; but he and I had sailed together and I had been his mate. We talked of things, confidences, the talk of old shipmates who know each other very well, and who are passing to know each other as memories. I had shipped five apprentices, two sons of prominent men in the shipping circles of New York, and I wondered at the outcome.
"I never take them any more," said Large. "I took one out of here a few years ago, and—well, I don't care to repeat the job."
"But the boys are good—signed on regular—what can they do?" I asked.
"I don't know, but I'll tell you what one did in theWildwoodwhen I took him to China. I don't know how to explain it. The strangeness of it all, the peculiar development that came about under seeming natural causes—hereditary, you will say, and perhaps that is right I have often studied it over, often lain awake in my bunk wondering at it all, what peculiar ideas grew in a brain that was almosthuman—almost, for when you think of what he did you cannot believe he was quite so, even though his father was the President of the Marine Association and had commanded the best American ships in his day." The old skipper sat quiet for some minutes and seemed to be thinking, studying over some problem. His cigar shone like a spark in the warm night, but the smoke was invisible. I waited. Apprentices were new to me. I had not had much chance to study the training of youth. My own way had been rough. I had at last gotten my ship after a life of strenuous endeavor and often desperate effort, and I wanted to learn all I could. Men I knew. I had handled them by and large from every part of the globe, and discipline, iron discipline, was a thing my ship was noted for. She had a bad name.
"You see," said Large, his deep voice booming softly in the night, "there is something intangible that a human being inherits from his forbears. We look at the successful man as a target to aim at, an idol we point out for youth to emulate. We don't always analyze the greatness. A successful man is often so from the stress he puts upon others. He will not stay in equilibrium. He keeps going on up, up beyond the place his own production entitles him. He becomes predatory, but unlike wolves or felines he preys upon his own kind.
"When President Jackson of the Bengal Line asked me to take Willie, his son, I did so with the feeling that it was an honor conferred upon me, the captain of one of the ships. Jackson had earnedhis position by his own efforts and fought his way up to the top. I remembered him well enough when he was a master, but he was now President of the Line. He had a very sinister reputation in the old ships, but that was all forgotten now.
"Willie came aboard looking like a physical wreck. He was a slight youth of fifteen, stoop-shouldered, pale of face, but with the eye of his father, and the peculiar settling of the corners of his mouth noticeable in the old man. 'Be sure you bring him back safely,' said his father, giving me a look I long remembered. 'Be sure you take good care of him—and bring him back.' I didn't quite know what he meant. I don't yet; but I know why he said it. I began to think of it before we were at sea a week.
"Yes, he was only a boy, a mere lad, but he was all of his father—his father as we remembered him in the South Sea. Degenerate? He was the ablest lad of his size I ever saw. He stood right there on the main deck the day we went out and took little or no notice of him while the tug had our line. He was signed on, mind you, signed on regular, so as not to excite the comment of 'pull.' Hell! why do they send boys to sea when the shore is the place to train them? He stood there and saw me looking at him, thinking of the words 'be sure and bring him back'—yes, I would.
"'Say, Cap, dis is fine. Let's put de rags on her an' let her slide. I wants to see her slip erlong—t'hell wid towin', says me,' and he came up the poop steps on the starboard side to chat with me—athing no one, as you know, can do aboard a ship without a reprimand. Every one heard him talking to me. He yelled it out in a shrill voice—yes, talking to me, the captain, on the poop. 'See here, young man,' I said to him, 'you mustn't talk to me while I'm on deck. Go down on the main deck, and when you want anything, you ask the mate—he will talk with you or get you what you want—you understand? It's not the thing to ever speak to the captain of a ship without permission.'
"'Aw, fergit it, cully! Don't youse make no mistake erbout me. I spoke fair an' civil to youse, an' if youse don't want to answer you kin go to hell, you stuck-up old fool! D'ye git that right?' he said shrilly.
"Well, you can imagine what that sounded like to the men. Twenty of them were grinning and both mates aghast. I was the master, a man known the world over as a 'driver.' There was nothing to do but take the lad in hand at once.
"'Take him forward and rope's-end him,' I said to Bowles, the second officer, a man weighing two hundred pounds and a 'bucko' of the strongest type. You remember him, the toughest mate afloat?
"But Willie looked up at me with a sneer.
"'You try it, you sea loafer. I'll sweat youse fer it if youse do. You ain't de whole thing aboard here. Youse don't know me, I guess.'
"I had to do it. The affair had gone too far. Bowles grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off his feet, and he let out a scream like a wildcat—a most unearthly shriek. Bowles whipped himgood and hard, tanned him so he could scarcely sit down; but he just cursed and swore at the officer, telling him what he'd do to him afterward. He got an extra lick or two for this. Bowles paid no attention, but went back to his station to attend lines. Half an hour later he was standing at the rail when I saw a form shoot out of the galley door and drive a long knife into his back. He sank down without a word, and Willie stood over him ready for the finish. The mate knocked him down with a belaying pin before he could kill.
"It was a terrible thing, an awful state of affairs beginning within five minutes after the tug had let go. It was uncanny. A young boy doing such things aboard a ship. I would have put him ashore at once, but remembered the articles he had signed and the words of the president of the line. I hesitated and the opportunity was lost——"
"I would have made another," I interrupted. "I would have sent the young villain to prison at once. No good could possibly happen from such an agreement, no good come from a horrible little devil like that."
"I don't know. I don't quite know yet what to make of it all. According to the usual rule there could be no good from a boy who would deliberately commit such a crime; but we men who know life, the real life, know that rules are not good to follow. You know that. I've tried to figure it all out, but there is no answer, no accounting for the strangeness of character that develop under certain conditions. We tied Willie up whilehe was unconscious from the blow of the pin, and instead of putting Bowles ashore we endeavored to bring him around. I took him aft and sewed up the cut. It was an awful wound, but Bowles was a very strong man. It took a month before he could get about the deck again. We had run clear to the equator.
"In the meantime Willie had had another run in, and I had him brought aft to have a little talk with him, to try and explain to him how a ship must be run, the iron discipline and the custom of the master not to associate with any one, either boy or man, from forward.
"'Aw, cut it out, cully—cut de langwidge! It don't go none wid me—see? I comes aboard dis ship an' gets it in de neck de foist round. Den I slings inter de bloke wot does the trick—'n by rights I ought ter take a fall outer youse, Cap—'n I've a good mind to do it, too. Dem sea tricks don't go none wid me.'
"'But don't you know I could hang you if I wanted to? Don't you know my word is law here? I am in absolute command. If you don't follow the rules of the ship I'll have to punish you severely.'
"'Nothin' doin', Bo, nothin' doin' at all. Youse kin cut all that sort o' talk out when youse chins wid me—see? Say, Bo, whatcher take me fer, anyways? Er "come on," er what? Whatcher t'ink I am, anyways, hey? Go tell de little choild stories to yer gran'mother—don't spring dem on me, don't try to hand me nothin' funny—I'm a MAN! An'don't youse t'ink youse kin take de call of me, neider, Bo, fer youse makes a mistake mixin' it wid me! I'm a fightin' MAN—me fader'll tell youse dat, an' dat's why he sends me wid youse when I might be goin' to school. De old man is a lulu, an' I am his son, Bo, a son of a dog—nothin' yaller in de breed; 'n if youse t'ink you kin razzle-dazzle me you'll sure fall down. Youse take dat from me, Bo! D'youse git it straight?'
"'I'll turn you loose if you'll promise to do the right thing from now on,' I said.
"'Aw, no, Bo, I don't have to promise nothin'. Youse ain't got me right yet. I ain't no child. What de hell's the matter wid youse, anyhow?'
"'All right, then, you'll stay locked up until the end of the voyage and then I'll turn you over to the police, and——'
"'An' you'll pay like hell fer that 'f I does. Youse see!' he snarled.
"Well, what could I do? What would you have done under the circumstances? The boy was not afraid. I knew his breed too well. I knew his father. He would not suffer the smallest infringement of what he believed to be his rights. He would resist to the death. He had gone with a gang of young ruffians and had developed a certain sense of what he believed to be right. He saw no law but that of absolute equality; and there is no such thing. He was at fault. It was absurd for men who ran a ship whose name was 'hard' to allow a little boy to take charge, a little fellow not weighing a hundred pounds. I decided to give hima real whipping—a whipping that would make a permanent mark in his memory. I hated to think of it—hated to really believe it was necessary, for there is nothing so horrible as whipping a man—and the lad was a man in his own opinion. There is absolutely nothing so soul-killing, so fearfully degrading. I prefer the bloodiest fighting always to the cold-blooded lash. I have seen men lose their self-respect under the degrading stroke of the lash; and a man without self-respect had better be dead. I studied the case and remembered his father. He was a small man physically—I never knew a big man make a good seaman; but he could take charge of a ship, no matter what kind of creatures were forward, and he never spoke but once in giving an order. The father had the same idea in regard to right and wrong—he never forgave one, never forgot. Yet he had been a staunch friend of mine. He had many friends who swore by him—and he was always to be relied upon, you could always count upon him no matter what the cost to himself in any emergency. It was his idea of duty—and he feared nothing at all.
"It was just a week later on a hot day when I had gone below to work the noon sight that I became aware of a pair of eyes looking at me from the top of the companionway, and as I looked up I gazed right into those of Willie; but it was along the blue barrel of my own forty-five caliber six-shooter. The gun had always been hanging close to my bunk head—ready for emergencies.
"'Bang!' The shot came without a second'swarning. The bullet tore through my arm. I sprang through the bulkhead into the forward cabin just as the second shot ripped me across the neck. I was rushing for the doorway to the main deck and the third shot threw splinters in my face as it hit the edge of the door. Willie was coming right along behind me, and firing as he came—and I—well, I confess it, I was running for my life. I heard his yell of derision, a shrill scream——
"The mate heard the firing, and as Willie came through the doorway he kicked him in the back and knocked him over. Then he jumped upon him and stamped all but the very life out of him by driving his boot-heels into his face."
I shivered with the intensity of the tale, the horror of it all. The old man sat silent in the gloom and the spark of light from his cigar end flared and faded as he drew upon it. He was thinking of the past. I waited.
"Well, what was I to do? I was a man, a ship master, and here I was with my arm shattered by a heavy bullet from a mere boy—or devil! What could I do?
"Yes, then I whipped him—whipped him until the men turned away. I will not tell you of it—it was too horrible.
"It was four weeks before I could get about the deck from the effects of that pistol shot. I had little medicine aboard. There I was limping about with a broken arm, and there was Bowles limping about with the tendons of his back cut through. It was awful. The men grinned. Yes, the mengrinned at us. I had an extra padlock put upon the stateroom where Willie stayed, and he was kept tight after that.
"At the end of a month Willie was all but dead. The terrific heat, the gases from the cargo and the close confinement told upon his weak frame. I saw that he would not last much longer. He would die in the ship, and I remembered the words of his father--'bring him back; be sure and bring him back!' There was an old man in the crew named Jim. He was half fish and the rest salt and rope-yarn. He offered to take the boy in hand and try to train him. I let him have a chance, always having him close at hand to stop any trouble with a pair of irons. And when he turned in the boy was locked up again. But there was no talk of doing right, no promise to be fair or obey orders from the little chap. I saw he would break out at the first opportunity and refused to give him one. I had old Jim read the Bible to him every day to see if I couldn't get him interested in religion. He liked that part of the Old Testament where it is especially bloody and deals with the desperate fighting of men, but when it came to other parts he lost interest.
"'Say, cull, do youse believe dat yarn erbout de whale--say? Aw, gwan! don't spring nothin' funny on me, Bo. Gimme some of de hot stuff or cut it--see? Dat kid David was de stuff! Gimme some more o' his work, or let it go at dat. He might have hove de rock an' hit de giant in de neck--but I doubts it; but maybe so, maybe so. Dat giantwarn't no bigger'n Bowles, I reckon--'n I c'u'd do fer him easy enough, as youse know. Yes, I c'u'd a dun up dat giant all right wid any sort er weaping--knife or rock--I'm a sort o' giant killer myself----'
"'You ain't got de nerve to do nothing like that, boy. Shut up and listen!' said Jim.
"'Say, Bo, don't youse make no mistake erbout me noive. I got de whole gang of youse beat to a gantline. I c'u'd stick youse all back in de lazereet an' not half woik. Aw, say, Jimmy, youse ain't got me measure quite right--see? Guess onct more, old boy; but go erlong an' read some more of de fight to me. I likes it all right.' And so they would chat together and I would listen to try and fathom the boy's mind. It was peculiar. And yet under it all was that vast ego, that immense regard for the opinions of others--not alone himself--he was too young yet, but for himself was the greatest, the self-respect. He was a leader, a boy with a soul--you may laugh when you think him a fiend, a perfect devil, if you will, but he was all right in some things.
"I was more afraid of Rose, my mate.
"Rose was a quiet man, a driver, and he had struck down the boy and beaten him to a jelly. The boy never alluded to it, never spoke of it even to Jim. That's where the danger lay. I felt that they would finish the fight when I let the lad loose, and dared not do so for a long time. Once when Jim had the boy on deck I caught Rose gazing at him with a peculiar steady light in his eyes. Hejust stood looking at the boy for nearly a full minute--then the lad turned and looked right into his eyes with the same peculiar steadiness--a stare that was unblinking, yet not strained. Willie had those light eyes, almost colorless, like his father. So had Rose, and they told each other so plainly what was behind their eyes that I almost smiled; but it was no smiling work, even if there was a boy in it. Rose showed plainly that he would wring the boy's neck at the first outfly, and was regardless of consequences. Rose was not a man to trifle with, yet when you remember that I was shot and the second mate cut, there was reason for the chief to throw out all sentiment. And so I kept Willie under Jim's care until we reached Hong-Kong. Then the old seaman wanted to go ashore and take the boy with him, promising not to go near a grog-shop. You can't trust a windjammer ashore after a long voyage, no matter how good a man he is. Jim came back to the ship that night the worse for wear, and told a tale of the boy slipping away from him in the streets. The man was drunk and I had him sent down in irons. Then I sent out a call for the police.
"They found Willie, who had wandered off while Jim was drinking. The boy had walked the streets all night, not caring much about the ship, and because a Chinaman would not cut off his queue and make him a present of it, the boy had jumped him with a knife he had procured and tried to take it by force. The interference of the police was all that saved the boy's life, for the man's friends helpedhim hold the lad, and they were just in the act of cutting his throat when help arrived. I was almost sorry for the interference, but I remembered the words of his father.
"Jim being unable to take further care of him for the present, I locked him up myself and turned in, being tired from the night's work. The next evening I saw Mr. Rose dragging Willie aboard the ship. How he got adrift I don't know, but he carried in each hand an oil can, while the mate, holding him, forced him aboard.
"'Say, Bo, whatcher think I done--hey? Just watch dat junk dere lyin' in de next dock--see? Aw, chee, dem Chinks is de limit. Dat feller what got me in Dutch last night is aboard dere, an'--well, you jest watch him now and tell me what youse t'ink o' me, anyways. I remembers him, but most all Chinks looks alike to me. Anyhow, I fire her up fer fair--you watch her--see? Oh, say, Bo, what a pipe----'
"Even while he spoke the black smoke poured from the fated junk. She burned like a box of matches. She was full of camphor wood and grease, and she fired the entire dock, burning six other vessels and making it so hot we were forced to warp into the stream.
"No, I didn't give the boy up. I suppose I might have done so and seen him hung properly. I said nothing, and Rose was a very quiet man. The damage he had done apparently took the lad's mind off his former troubles, and on the way home I let him go back to his watch. He took to the rigginglike a monkey. I will say here he was the best sailor I had ever seen. There was nothing he could not learn about seamanship. He would always take the weather earing in a blow and no man dared to send him in. When Jim was on deck the old seaman kept him under his eye in case of trouble, and Mr. Rose was always most vigilant. The mate had determined to kill the lad at the first sign of danger. I tried again and again to win his confidence, but he seemed to look upon me as his enemy. He refused to take me for a friend, and my little talks were futile.
"'Aw, tell it to yer gran'mother,' he would say to me. 'Don't try to stuff me, Bo. Youse had your innings at that--now fergit it before you git inter the soup ag'in. I knows youse, an' I ain't done wid youse yet, either--see? Youse done me dirt--youse done me when I first come in de ship. I ain't decided just what I'll do to youse yet, but youse better keep yer eye liftin' fer me. Don' try to razzle-dazzle me none. I ain't afraid of youse at all. You ain't got de noive to do me--see? But I got it in fer youse all hunk, now don't make no mistake erbout dat. I'll let youse off easier the better we gets erlong--see? If we gets erlong all right I may let youse down easy--if not, I'll kill you as sure as I breathe, an' that goes as it lays. Do youse git it right?'
"Here was a boy, now sixteen, telling the master of a ship he would kill him if things were not to his liking. What do you think of it, anyway? I never could work it out I couldn't lock him up anymore for it would have killed him--and I must not kill the lad--I don't know----
"The whole affair was insane. It was grotesque. But there was my shattered arm, and there was Bowles limping about--that fire at Hong-Kong--and I must bring Willie back home. I'm telling you a true story. I'm telling you of a boy, an apprentice.
"When we struck the rough weather of the high latitudes Willie was happy. He was worked out to a gantline by Jim, and he was beginning to run the men a bit. It was amazing and absurd to hear that kid yelling orders to the men aloft. Slack-away' or 'clew up,' whatever the order was, and he was very smart. He could beat the best of them to the royal yard; and he was taking pride in it. His voice was at that stage when it cracks and goes into a treble, and no one laughed. Even the mate watched it all with gloomy eyes, never saying a thing, and never even smiling. And it was amazing how the men obeyed him. If a man failed to do so, only an apology and the reception of a kick upon the stern would save him from a fracas, for Willie kept right after them. Yes, he inherited all the masterly qualities of his father. He was a wonder at seamanship. One day a dago didn't like the way Willie trod upon his feet when they were both hauling a brace. They mixed, and it was the closest shave for the lad. He came out with a bad cut, for the dago at sea takes to a knife like a babe to milk. That night, while in his bunk, the dago was slammed over the head with a handspike, andwe had to keep him off duty until the ship docked.
"When we came in Jim brought his charge aft to sign off, as is the custom, you know, for their slop chest accounts. Willie came up.
"I haven't got much against you, Willie; you owe me for a couple of plugs of tobacco, but we'll let that go," I said.
"'No, we don't, Bo; youse charge it all up right an' proper. Den I got a small account agin de ship--which I'll settle right now----'
"But old Jim was too quick for him.
"'Take him forward and keep him in irons until we get in. We'll get inside before dark,' I ordered. You know how it is when a ship comes in. The land sharks were there in swarms, but among them was old man Jackson waiting for his son. They went away hand in hand, the old man never even speaking to me--I always thought he knew.
"Our cargo was valued at about half a million. It was nearly all Jackson's, as he owned the greatest shares in all the ships. We docked and were forced to lay right behind a barge loaded with dynamite, nearly two tons of it ready for taking out in the morning to blow Hell Gate rock.
"Bowles had gone ashore with the rest, and Rose had stepped up the street for a 'first night' off. He was not due until midnight. I always suspected the second officer or the dago--I don't know, only neither of them ever showed up again. They both had seen the President of the line take his son, his young hopeful, away with him. They both had suffered much from his hands. Perhaps it was revenge--totry to get even with the father for the son's sins. Anyhow, I had hardly turned in that night, leaving old Jones, the shipkeeper, on deck, when the old fellow ran below and told me the ship was afire forward. I turned out instantly and was on deck.
"The ship was burning like a beacon from the foremast to the t'gallant forecastle. She seemed to be spread with oil. Jones was seventy and unable to do much. I ran forward and yelled for help. In ten minutes the engines were playing a stream upon the ship and a fireboat was flooding her from aft. Jackson came down on the run to see his vessel being destroyed and his cargo vanishing in black smoke. He had had trouble with the insurance, and he was worried. Then while he stood upon the dock and spoke to me as I stood upon the rail amidships, I was aware of a small figure near him.
"'Aw, say, Bo, youse better get away from there--cut out, see? There's powder to blow youse to hell and back right there in that lighter. Youse ain't got more'n a minute, cully. Better git gay wid de lines.'
"Then I recognized Willie. He had come down to see the blaze and was calling attention to the thing we had forgotten for the moment.
"'Call de watch, an' I'll lend youse a hand.'
"I called for Jones to slack off the after lines, and then I ran as far as I could into the smoke and managed to cast off forward, getting nearly drowned with the engine water. Jackson cameaboard and worked like mad. The stern lines were cast off, but before we could do anything the ship began to swing right down upon the barge. The slip was too narrow to get the dynamite past the vessel, and there she was now surging ahead upon it. She had both blocked the slip and surged into it. I began to yell to the men standing about to get away from the place before the explosion. They had crowded about as close as they could to see the fire, not knowing anything about what was on the barge.
"Jackson rushed aft and howled to the fireboat to pass a line, as the wind was now blowing her slowly across the slip and right upon the dynamite. Every one who could understand me began to run. The dock cleared off quickly. Then, just as I was about to jump ashore myself, I heard a voice close to the rail.
"'Aw, say, Bo, give me a heavin' line--I kin swim acrost the slip--den hurry up an' bend de hawser, youse can heave her over easy enough. Don't get nutty.'
"I saw Willie standing there, and without further ado I threw him the end of a small line. He jumped in without a word and swam rapidly across the narrow stretch of water to the other dock. A man on the pier reached down and took the line from the lad. I had already bent on the hawser, and it went across lively. Then taking the end to the midship capstan, I got old Jones to hold the turns while I walked her around as fast as I could.
"But I was not strong enough to warp a heavyship across a slip even in still water. The ship surged ahead slowly in spite of all I could do, and Jackson grabbed a capstan bar to help. It was a poor chance at best, but we worked on. I caught a glimpse of a slight figure working upon the deck of the barge, throwing cases of powder overboard. A man appeared with him, but I could not take time to see much. The boxes were cases of about a hundred pounds each, and they were rapidly going overboard, and with the tide through the dock. Minutes passed, but nothing happened. We seemed to be getting way upon the ship, and Jackson swore and strove mightily to save her, with no thought of leaving even in the face of a terrific explosion. We would have gone clear all right but for the fact we had our port anchor over and hanging from the cathead. We had warped the ship clear of the barge, and her bow swung over, the line being too far aft and the fire and water too dangerous to work in forward. The fluke of the anchor swept a pile of boxes--about three hundred pounds---and then came the crash. It was terrific. The fluke was clear of the ship's hull by several feet, but it was blown through the deck, the five-thousand-pound anchor flung like a toy through her side. She shook from end to end. We were all blown flat, stunned, although we had many feet of solid vessel between us and the blast.
"When we came around from the shock of the explosion Jackson had the pleasure of seeing his ship without a bowsprit, her nose blown clear off, but the fire was blown out. There was not evenmuch smoke left. The barge had entirely vanished.
"The firemen came aboard afterward, and so did many shipmasters, whose vessels lay in the vicinity. Jackson met them dumbly. He said nothing.
"'Good thing they got the dynamite overboard quick enough,' said Captain Smith of theSunnerdun. 'That boy, whoever he was, was all right. The watchman ran away just before the smash.'
"'What boy?' asked a fireman.
"But it was no use to tell us what boy--we knew, we felt, it all along.
"Yes, that was the end of him. He had tried to save the ship, his father's ship--and he had done it when men failed--I don't know--I can't judge him. Old man Jackson left without a word, and I never saw him again."
The old seaman paused, and the night showed his cigar end flaming again. I sat there thinking over the tale, the true tale of that boy, for I knew Large was telling me only facts. It was all very strange, all like a horrid nightmare the old seaman had suffered from; but it was not a dream, it was the truth about a boy, just a rough, tough boy whose ideals had been a bit peculiar. I looked over across the berth at my own ship, where five boys were already signed on for the voyage around the Cape, and I began to wonder if I had done a wise thing to ship them. Then I determined right there to give them some extra thought and study, to try to fathom what lay behind their "going to sea."
THE END
[A]Copyright, 1911, by Doubleday, Page & Co.
[A]Copyright, 1911, by Doubleday, Page & Co.