And very soon the French and English skippers were talking to each other at the rate of knots, while Hart sat in a crowd of Frenchmen and told them all about everything.
It was close on sundown when Jones returned to thePotluck. He had to be helped up the side by some of the crew.
"Ain't we under arrest?" they asked. "Does we dare come out?"
Jones hiccupped.
"I releases you on your own recognition," he said. "So down you come and 'elp."
When he put his foot on the deck, he mustered all hands aft.
"And you, Lampert, and you, Simcox!"
The two mates came out of their cabins.
"And where's Hart?"
"If you please, sir, he's drunk," said Billy.
"Arrest 'im," said the skipper; "what's 'e mean by it? Now, look 'ere, you bally lot, what does you think of yourselves?"
The crew appeared uneasy.
"I went all by my lone," said the skipper, hanging on to the poop ladder, "all by my lone I went, and I brings back peace! Do you 'ear? But when I sent you, what use was you? I released 'Art, who's repaid me by bein' unable to see an 'ole in a ladder; and I've concluded a treaty of peace and friendship with the French. Next time (if so be a German ship comes ashore) I'll go out as my own hambassador. No, Simcox, never more! No, Lampert, never, never more! I just speaks to that French crowd, and they are civil and drink fair. They recognised they'd met their match. Their skipper says, says he, 'Captain Jones, I owns fair and square I'm not your ekal at diplomatics.' He adds, moreover, 'Captain Jones, damn me if I believe your match is to be found.' And I says, with dignity (with dignity, Simcox), 'Right you are!' That's what I says. And as for you, you ratty galoots, you'll treat 'em when you meets 'em just the same as if they wasn't French. Do you 'ear me? That's my hultimatum. Now you can go. That'll do the watch."
He turned to the mates.
"I thought better of you two, so I did," he remarked sadly. "But there, you 'aven't 'ad my experience, and when I gets 'ome I shall see as them that is in power at the Furrin Office 'ears 'ow I done it. Salisbury ain't my stiffness of backbone, and 'e ain't my tact. If so be as 'e was to invite them Frenchmen to dinner, it would be different. They knows (as the French captain owned to me; fair and square 'e owned it) they don't 'ave no nat'ral right to hislands and col'nies. Make the Frenchmen's 'omes 'appy and they'll stay at 'ome. Think it hout; you'll see 'ow it could be done. There now, that'll do you. I disarrest you!"
And the "old man" rolled cheerfully for his cabin.
"By my lone I done it!" said the Guffin.
The stars of European science, who had been shining in a wonderful constellation over Quebec, were just about to leave Canada in that well-known comfortable liner, theNipigon, when a most annoying thing happened. The cattle-shipAbbitibbe, never famous at any time for minding her helm, got her steam steering gear jammed as she was passing theNipigon, and took a wide sheer to port when she should have altered her course to starboard. The peaceful preparations of the passenger boat were broken up, and her crew received the wild charge of theAbbitibbewith curses, which, though effectual in heating the atmosphere, were no use as a fender. TheNipigonwas cut down to the water's edge, and the scientific lights of Europe were much put out. They hurried ashore in the most irregular and unscientific manner, and, having sent others for their baggage, began to make preparations for going to New York, as no other good passenger boat was leaving the St. Lawrence for a week.
But Nature, possibly out of revenge for the unseemly curiosity evinced by all men of science, was beforehand with them. Misfortunes, as was once observed by an intelligent, if pessimistic, anthropoid ape, never come singly. It was the twelfth of November, and a sudden blizzard, bringing all the snow it could carry, broke up communication with the south. If the men of science were to keep their appointments with their universities, it was necessary to sail from Canada at once. They shipped themselves under protest upon theNemagosenda, of 2,900 tons register, which was little better than a tramp, and was commanded by Captain Joseph Prowse.
"Immortal Jehoshaphat!" said Captain Prowse; "here's a go! What, we with passengers? Oh, get out!"
"You've got to take 'em," said the agent philosophically; "maybe they'll teach you something, and it'll be a good advertisement."
"Gah'n!" said Prowse; "carryin' scientific jossers won't bring better freight next season. I wish you'd get me chock up with cattle. I can't stand scientists; my sister married one that was an 'erbalist in the Old Kent Road—and since he went to chokey I've lost conceit with science. However, if it must be—why, send 'em along!"
Captain Prowse was not a popular skipper with sailors. They said that he was a "hard nut" and a "sailor-robber," and that his American experience had made him nearly as deadly as any American captain with a belaying-pin. But sailors' experience only works backward: they are good at reminiscence only, and theNemagosendagot a crew in spite of the captain's reputation. It is possible they would not have shipped if they had known that men of European light and leading were to come with them. Those who follow the sea have a great respect for knowledge, but they despise men in soft hats and spectacles. And it cannot be denied that scientific men are as a rule too simple and gentle to look as if they could take care of themselves. According to Jack, that is the first duty of man, though he premises naturally that even the toughest courage and the greatest skill may come to grief about women.
"A thunderin' measly lot," said Simpkins A.B. to his particular mate, when the scientific passengers came on board; "why, they've all soft 'ats but one! And long beards! And three out of four with specs! Holy sailor, what a gang!"
Harris nodded.
"Why, there's twenty of 'em, Bill, but I'll bet a plug of the best to an old chew that me and you goin' for 'em with belayin'-pins could do up the 'ole crowd in five minutes."
"You've sized 'em up," said Simpkins, with a sneer, and then the captain roared.
"Aye, aye, sir," said the mate. "Let go! All gone, sir! Now then, haul in." And theNemagosendawent out into the stream.
It took some three days or so for the men of science to settle down. For during the first few days the pathology of sea-sickness occupied all their attention; they had no time for other things. But when their last all-night session was over, and they were seen again upon deck, the affairs of theNemagosendabecame interesting. The mate and the port watch developed long-threatened divergencies, and Captain Prowse came to the assistance of his chief officer with a brass belaying-pin. As the result of this the pathologist indulged in a little practical surgery, and a division arose in the scientific ranks. The political economist argued with the statistician.
"Statistics prove that the common sailor must be treated with sternness," said the authority in figures, "and it is our duty to support authority."
"The captain is a brute," said the political economist, "and for two pins I would tell him so. You cannot neglect the human factor——"
"Says political economy," sneered the statistician.
And then the geologist, who was a man of sense, said they were both talking rot. The discussion on the poop was broken up by the captain, who came on deck with a face like the north-west moon in a fog. Having demanded the presence of the crew aft, he gave them an address on their duties to their superiors.
"You think yourselves a fine lot of chaps," said the captain fiercely, "but my opinion of you is that you are a scaly crowd of wharf-rats, and all your relations of both sexes are no better than they should be. So look here, you swine, I'll have you know I'm Captain Joseph Prowse, and the man that gives any slack jaw to any officer of mine gives it to me. And the man that gives it to me will wish he was dead before he sees Liverpool. That's me. I'm Captain Joseph Prowse, so I am, and any crew under me has got to know it. I'm king here, and I'll wade in blood before I get off my throne. Mr. Watts, put this crawling lot to holy stoning the deck!"
And Captain Joseph Prowse rejoined his scientific passengers.
"All crews is the same, gentlemen," he said thickly; "there's something deep and dark in the nature of things as makes 'em so. Those that do the rough work on board ships are just so necessarily, and if I was to ship a crew of angels, though they might be handy for going aloft, they'd turn devils by the time they'd ate a pound of beef and biscuit."
"Have you ever tried kindness and persuasion?" asked the meteorologist.
The captain looked him up and down.
"Ever tried it!" he ejaculated scornfully; "'ave I ever tried anything else? It's kindness to sailormen to let 'em know who's boss. Spare the belayin'-pin and the 'andspike and you'll spoil the sailor. Oh, Solomon know'd his business when he used them words. He didn't sail to Ophir for nothin'."
"But, Captain Prowse," said the meek gentleman, whose great subject was cannibalism, "isn't it very unpleasant work rubbing the decks with stones this cold weather?"
"Unpleasant!" said the skipper, "and what do you think? Was I proposin' to reward 'em?"
"I suppose not," said the ethnologist, "but I'm sure it's awful work. I could never do it."
Captain Prowse snorted.
"Oh yes, you could, if you was in my crew," he remarked. "If one of you gents was captain, you'd find this crowd couldn't do nothing but sit in the foc'sle and drink 'ot coffee. It's all accordin' where you are, and what kind of a man's on top."
"In other words, circumstance creates character," said the statistician.
"That's a ridiculous exaggeration," said the authority on heredity. "A man is what he is born."
Captain Joseph Prowse laughed scornfully.
"Not he—he's what I makes of him, and if you gents was under me I'd make you sailors long afore you suspected it. By the way, could you tell me what branch of science an 'erbalist belongs to?"
And the conversation followed more pleasant lines.
TheNemagosenda, although little better than a tramp in her appearance, could do her ten knots an hour on less than twenty tons of coal a day, and she soon got out to the Banks, where the men of science discussed fishing, and the colour of sea-water, and icebergs.
"Yes," said the geologist, "an iceberg swims on an average seven-eighths below and an eighth above."
"Gammon!" said Captain Prowse rudely; "why, any sailor knows better. I'm surprised at a scientific josser like you bein' so ignorant. It's one-third above and two below. You ask my mate if it isn't so."
"Ah, thanks, I will," said the geologist pleasantly. "Mr. Watts is a well-informed man?"
"Rather," said Prowse, nodding; "there's not a den o' thieves in any port in Europe he can't find blindfold. And 'e knows more about icebergs than me, for he once went a trip in a Dundee whaler. He ain't proud of it, and don't talk of it much, for whalers is no class, as you may guess. But he's keen on knowledge, is Watts, I'll say that for him. You might do worse than ask him for some ackerate information. He's a perfect whale on fogs, too!"
If Mr. Watts was the authority on fogs that his captain made out, he soon had an opportunity of showing it, for half-way across the Banks it was impossible to see farther than one could throw half a hundredweight, and theNemagosendawent tooting in darkness. But every now and again in this dim world the men of science were alarmed and entertained by sudden battles in blasphemy between Captain Prowse, or the well-informed Mr. Watts, and the crew of a Bank fisherman. For fog blankets sound in the oddest, most erratic way, and the throb of a screw cannot always be heard even in the calmest foggy weather. Such swearing matches between theNemagosendaand a smack were, when apparently good for three minutes or so, sometimes sliced right in two by the sudden dropping down of what the meteorologist called an "anacoustic" wall of fog. Like the last words of Don Whiskerandos inA Tragedy Rehearsed, a speech was cut off in the very flower of its youth.
"Where the blue blinding blazes are you coming to?" asked a faint nocturne. And when Captain Prowse had expended his last carefully prepared oration, the right of maritime reply only conferred an audible "Oh, you dog——"
"We have to thank the anacoustic properties of that fog-bank for the sudden conclusion," said the meteorologist, "for if I'm any judge of human nature, that smacksman is still firing red-hot words into space."
"Yes, sir," said Prowse indignantly, "they're a foul-mouthed lot. It's as much as I can do to keep even with 'em. But I'll slow down no more."
He telegraphed "Full speed ahead" and left Mr. Watts with awfully worded instructions to sink anything, from a battleship to the meanest brig afloat. In the saloon he sat at the head of the table, and drank rum hot.
"Science proves that rum 'ot is the sailor's drink," said Captain Prowse, "and the correct drink. For we all drink it, and flourish on it. And the reason is that it goes by contraries. It's cold work bein' at sea, and so we takes it 'ot; and the sea is salt, so we takes it sweet: and it comes from the West Indies."
"And that proves it," said the geologist warmly. "What a head you have, Captain Prowse!"
The skipper nodded.
"You may well say so," he affirmed; "a phrenologist gave me a chart of my 'ead once, a scientific chart with the soundings wrote out plain, and what proved him right was his sayin' that 'ere and there I was too deep for him. And I paid him a guinea. Well worth it, it was, for he said, 'You get married,' and I done so, and Mrs. Prowse hasn't her living equal. I wish I'd brought that chart with me. It would 'ave interested you gents to know what a brother scientist thought of me."
"It would indeed," said the pathologist.
"But there, I'll tell you what I am," said Prowse, "I'm a down-righter, that's me. I'm captain of my boat, I am, and if I was afloat on a hencoop with all its crew I'd like to see the cock as would crow before I gave him orders. Authority comes nat'ral to me. I'll be boss wherever I am—(Hancocks, more rum!)—and I would have succeeded in whatsoever I took hold of. Phrenology told me so, wrote out plain. And I've a kind of leanin' towards science ever since that phrenologist put 'is 'and on my 'ead and said with a start of surprise, 'Captain, you're a wonder.' But I've always wondered what it was made scientific chaps look so 'elpless.—(Hancocks, more rum.)—But don't you fret, gents; I'm Captain Joseph Prowse, and I'll put you safe ashore, or die in the attempt."
And as he again ejaculated "Hancocks, more rum," he fell asleep upon the table.
"Gentlemen," said the geologist, "as our interests are now secure, I vote we go to bed."
But it was still a heavy fog, and theNemagosendawas doing her ten knots an hour. Other steamers were doing the same, or even more. Some twenty-knot liners slowed down (in order that they might say that they had slowed down) to about nineteen knots and a half; and some, acting on the theory that the sooner they went through the fog-belt, the better for every one, gave their engines all the steam they could make, and stepped out for America or England at the pace of an indolent torpedo-boat. And the result of this was that at about four bells in the middle watch, when the mate's aching eyes could see forty imaginary steamers where there were none, he omitted to observe that there was a real one coming for him till it was too late. TheNemagosendauttered one long horrid wail, which was answered in vain, and the next minute the men of science were shot out of their bunks, and their steamer was taking in the Atlantic through a hole about the size of a dock gate.
What became of the lucky, or unlucky, boat, which got her blow in first, the crew of the sinking steamer did not inquire. They heard her toot in the distance, and in answer they blew their whistle for help. But though a whistle in a fog may be evidence of good faith, it is not necessarily for wide publication, and it is quite possible that the stranger, if she did not sink, lost her bearings in the fog, and went off in the wrong direction. At any rate the crew and passengers of theNemagosendafound themselves adrift in three boats, and in less than a quarter of an hour they heard, though they could not see, their steamer blow her deck out and disappear.
"All up with theGoose-ender," said the crew sulkily, "and now of course it will blow."
As ill-luck and hurry would have it, in the last rush for life most of the crew had tumbled into the mate's and second mate's boats. With the lights of science were the captain and Simpkins, A.B.
"Immortal Jehoshaphat!" said Mr. Joseph Prowse, "this is a pretty state of affairs. That man-drowning swine of a liner! I 'ope she's gone down! I hope the codfish are sizing her captain up, and sayin' what they think of him. Simpkins, keep holloaing! Where's them other boats?"
"I can't holler no more, sir," whispered Simpkins hoarsely, "my throat's give out."
And as the wind rose the three boats drifted apart. Four eminent scientific persons at the oars kept their boat head on to sea, and six other eminent persons lay on the bottom boards and wished they were dead, until the dawn crawled into the east and showed them that they were alone.
It was a chill and watery dawn, and as the boat topped the cold green waves on the edge of the Bank the prospect was eminently unkind. The wind was not heavy, but it blew hard enough to bring the spray of each curling wave inboard, and every one was soaked to the skin. The sky was lowering and overcast, and though the fog was dissipated, a mist covered the sun till it looked, as Simpkins remarked, about as warm as a new tin plate.
It must be said for Captain Joseph Prowse that he retained in some measure those characteristics of authority which he claimed for himself, and by a forced optimism, which the nature of his crew made him adopt, he endeavoured to cheer them up.
"My luck's temporary out," he declared, with some show of cheerfulness, "but it ain't the first time I've been run down, and with God's 'elp, gents, it won't be the last. And it's clean against the nature of things for so many learn'd men to come to grief at one fell blow. 'Ere or there a scientific josser may come to grief in a crowd, but so many bein' together is the best of insurances. I'll pull you through; you mind me. All I ask you to remember is that I'm captain, and what I says goes now and always."
"It's all very well," said the meteorologist, whose temper was going with the skin of his hands, "but we all thought you had no right to run so fast in a fog."
Captain Prowse gasped, and then recovered himself.
"Didn't I tell you I was captain here, same as on the steamer?"
"You did," said the sulky man of science.
"Then hold your jaw," said Captain Prowse; "when you, or the likes of you, is asked for criticism, it'll be time for you to give it. Till then you'll give your captain no lectures on the running of his vessel. God and the Queen's enemies 'as sunk my ship, but neither one nor the other has took away my natural gift of authority, so shut up!"
And though the meteorologist choked with rage, he said no more. Simpkins and the captain consulted.
"We're right in the track of steamers more or less," said Captain Prowse, "and it bein' so damp we can hang out without much drink for a day or so. And biscuit we 'ave plenty."
Simpkins nodded.
"Yes, sir, but this 'ere's a sulky useless lot, sir."
"So they are," said Prowse, "but they'll 'ave to shape themselves as I bid 'em. The first crooked word and there'll be a man of science missing out of this bright gal-acksy of talent. I don't care where I am, but there I'll be captain. I don't care if they was my owners, I'd run 'em all the same. They ain't passengers no more, they're my crew."
He took a drink out of a flask and sank back in the stern-sheets.
"I want you men to keep your eyes skinned," he said presently. "Which of you is the astronomer?"
"I am," answered the bow oar, who was a long, thin man, in a wideawake and spectacles.
"Then keep a bright look-out or you'll see stars," said Prowse. "And while I'm on it, I want you jossers to know that you ain't passengers no more, but a boat's crew, and my boat's crew, and you'll have to look lively when I sing out. So the sooner we get a bit farther south the better it will be. That will do."
And muttering that he meant being captain whether he was on an ice-floe or a mud-barge, he fell asleep and snored.
"This brute is coming out in his true colours," said the astronomer. "What did he mean by saying I should see stars?"
"Begging your pardon, sir," said Simpkins, "he meant he'd plug you."
"Plug me?"
"Bung your eye up," explained Simpkins, "and Lor' bless you, he'd do it. Oh, a rare chap is the captain; why, some years half his money goes in fines."
"I wish to heaven I was ashore," said the poor astronomer, "and when I get there I'll see he never gets another job."
Simpkins eyed the sleeping skipper in alarm.
"Best not let him 'ear you, matey," he cried. "He'd haze you to death."
"Haze me?"
"Work you up," explained the seaman.
"What's that?"
"And I thot you was all learn'd!" said Simpkins, with great contempt. "I mean he'd just sock it to you till you was fair broke up."
The day passed without any incident of vital importance. It is true they sighted the smoke of a steamer hull down on the southern horizon, but they saw nothing else across the waste of heaving water. Every now and again the captain woke up and made a few remarks on the nature of authority, and what he proposed doing to those who did not "knuckle under." But the night fell without any signs of mutiny on the part of the scientific crew.
In the very early dawn the astronomer, who had slept in uneasy snatches, woke up for the tenth time and changed his position. Simpkins and the geologist were keeping the boat before the sea, which was running south-east, and they were both half-blind with fatigue.
"I believe I see something out there," said the astronomer feebly.
"You are always seein' suthin'," said Simpkins crossly, but as he spoke he looked round and almost dropped his oar.
"Wake up, captain!" he shouted. "Here's a barque almost so near we could touch her."
The skipper roused up, and with him the rest. They jumped to their feet.
"Sit down, sit down, you gang of idiots," said the captain; "d'ye want to capsize us?"
"Oh, we are saved, we are saved!" said the ethnologist, for within half a mile of them a vessel lay with her main-topsail aback. There was nothing odd about her to the uneducated eye, but the skipper looked at Simpkins, and Simpkins looked at the skipper.
"Derelict," said both.
For with such a light breeze it was absurd to see a barque with nothing set but a close reefed main-topsail, and a fore-topmast staysail hanging in hanks like a wet duster.
"She has seen us," said the geologist.
"Seen your grandmother," said the skipper rudely. "There ain't a soul aboard her, and she's water-logged and loaded with lumber out of Halifax, and she's a northerner, and about six hundred tons register. Get the oars out. If her decks are awash, she'll be better than this boat."
By the time they came within a cable's length of her, it was broad daylight, and the least maritime member of any European scientific society was able to form an opinion as to her being derelict. As she rolled, the water came out of her scuppers, for her main-deck was almost level with the sea. Part of the gear was let go, and most of the yards were chafing through their parrals, the main-top-gallant yard, indeed, was only hanging by the tie and the lifts, and came crash against the mast every time the sea lifted the vessel's bows. Half the bulwarks were gone, and the remains of the displaced deck cargo showed through the gaps. As they got up to her she went right aback and came round slowly on her heel.
"Row up close, sir," said Simpkins, "and I'll jump."
"No," said Captain Prowse, "not with this lot. I wouldn't go near her with a crew of misfits like these, not for money. We'll go a bit closer, and you must swim."
And in ten minutes Simpkins was on board. He threw the end of a vang across the boat, and they brought her astern.
"Thank Heaven," said the men of science as they trod the slippery decks of theKamma Funder, belonging to Copenhagen.
But their troubles were only just beginning.
The skipper walked aft on the slippery deck, and climbed upon the poop by way of the rail, for some of the loose lumber had dislodged and smashed the poop ladder. When he found his foot upon his native heath, he was once more Captain Joseph Prowse in all his glory; and turning about, he addressed his crew.
"Simpkins," he said, "you are chief officer, second officer and bo'son, and don't you forget it. As for you others, I'll have you know that you're the crew. Just drop any kind of heightened notion that you are passengers, and we'll get along easy; but if you don't, look out for squalls. Simpkins, turn this useless lot to throwin' the remains of the deck cargo overboard, and try a couple of 'em at the pumps; maybe her seams may have closed up again by now." And going aft to the scuttle, he disappeared from view.
"Well," said the geologist, "of all the infernal——"
"Oh, stow that," cried Simpkins, "and turn to. You're here, ain't you, and lucky you should consider yourself. And the captain's a man of his word, as I know; so look slippy and pass this bloomin' truck over the side."
The miserable crew looked at each other in despair.
"Come now," said Simpkins impatiently, "do you want me to report you chaps as refusin' duty?"
The geologist, who was the youngest and sturdiest man in the crowd, said that he did; but the astronomer and the entomologist remonstrated with him.
"I think we'd better," said the unhappy insect man. "This Prowse seems a regular brute."
"He is," said the astronomer, "and I pray to Heaven that he doesn't find any rum on board."
But Heaven did not listen, and the captain presently came on deck with a flushed face.
"Simpkins," roared Prowse, as his head appeared over the edge of the scuttle.
"Yes, sir," said the new mate.
"Is that lumber over the side yet?"
"Quick, for Gawd's sake," said Simpkins, and the reluctant men of science commenced sliding the boards over.
"It's going, sir," answered Simpkins.
"Goin'!" said Prowse, when he got his hands on the after poop rail. "Goin'! I should say so! What a crowd! Oh, you miserable things, I'll shape you; I'll get you into condition; I'll make sailors of you. Get two of these hoosiers on to the pumps and see if she's leakin' very bad, and then we'll make sail. This 'ereKamma Funderwon't make a quick passage, but by the time we're picked up, or sail 'er 'ome, I'll make you chaps fit to ship in the worst Cape Horner that ever sailed."
He turned away, but stopped.
"And when the deck's clear, Simpkins, you can let 'em eat what they can get. There's plenty of biscuit, but mighty little else. Now then, you Stars, pump!"
And the astronomer and entomologist pumped for their lives, while the sea round about the waterlogged barque was whitening rapidly with many thousand feet of Nova Scotian lumber. For when the captain was out of sight, Simpkins was encouraging, and talked what he told them was "horse" sense.
"You wants to get back 'ome to your families, don't you," he asked, "and to your instruments and your usual ways of livin'? Why, of course you does. Then buck up, and pitch in, and learn to do your dooty. I'm not a hard man. I can make allowances. I know you didn't ship to do this. But it's your luck, and you must. Now then, that'll do the deck. Just lay into this pump all of you, and I'll sound 'er again."
And as good luck would have it, there soon appeared some reason for hoping that the leaks in theKamma Funderhad closed.
"Blimy," said Simpkins, "we'll 'ave 'er sailin' like a witch yet. Chuck yerselves into it, and I'll call the captain."
But the captain was fast asleep in the bunk of the late skipper.
"What's become of her crew?" asked the new crew, as they sat round the deck and ate their biscuit.
"Took off by a steamer," said Simpkins; "you see they've left their boats, and the captain says the ship's papers 'as gone, so they was took off, for sure."
"I wish we were taken off," said the weary astronomer.
"That'll come, I dessay," replied the consolatory Simpkins, "but if we sails 'er 'ome, we'll get salvage, and your time won't be wasted. So cheer up, and let's make sail, while a couple of you keeps the pumps a-goin'."
The wind by now was a light north-westerly breeze, and though the barque worked heavily and wallowed in the sea, Simpkins took her as she went round and put the geologist at the helm.
"Keep the wind in the back o' your neck," said Simpkins to the nervous helmsman, "and I'll loose the foresail."
He jumped up aloft and loosed the foresail and two fore-topsails. Coming down, he got the scientific crew to work.
"Here you, ketch hold of this and pull. There, that will do. Belay! Tie the thing up, I mean, on that thing, you silly ass!"
And the member of the Royal Society, who was thus addressed for the first time since he had left school, made the starboard fore-sheet fast to the cleat.
"You ain't such an ass as you wants to make out," said Simpkins, as he watched him critically; "me and the captain will soon put you chaps in shape. Now then, all of you! Fore-topsail 'alliards! Stretch it out and lay back. Which of you can sing?"
They declared that none of them could.
"Then I must," said Simpkins; and he gave them the chanty "Handily, boys, so handy," until he had the topsail well up. And just as the crew were looking aloft with a strange new feeling of actual pleasure in seeing results grow under their hands, a sudden row arose aft. The captain was interviewing the geologist.
"Steer small," said Captain Prowse; "don't work the bally wheel as if you was workin' a chaff-cutter."
"I'm doin' my best," said the furious man of science, "and I beg you will speak to me civilly."
"I'll speak to you how I like," said Prowse; "didn't I tell you a while back as you wasn't a passenger no more, but one of my crew?"
"Sir," said the geologist, "I beg that you will be so good as to refrain from speaking to me. I am not accustomed to be talked to in that tone."
Captain Prowse gasped, and, walking hurriedly to the side, endeavoured to pull a fixed belaying-pin from the rail. After three or four trials he came to a loose one. By this time theKamma Funderwas yawing all abroad, and when Captain Prowse came towards the wheel again, the geologist let go, and in his turn sought for a weapon. The captain caught the wheel in time to prevent the vessel getting right aback, and roared:
"Mutiny, mutiny!"
Simpkins and the scientific association came running aft.
"Simpkins," shrieked Prowse, "ketch hold of that geological chap."
"I dare either of you to touch me," said the geologist; "the first one that does, I'll brain him!"
He held the iron pin firmly, and looked desperate.
"Come and ketch hold of the wheel," said Prowse, in a choking voice.
"No, don't let him," said the offender, and a violent argument arose.
"This is perfectly scandalous," said the meek astronomer, "and——"
"We won't put up with it," cried the entomologist.
"I must obey orders," said Simpkins.
"Or I'll murder you," screamed the skipper.
"If he lets go she'll be took aback," said Simpkins, "and it'll be a lot of trouble."
"We don't care," said the men of science, and then the captain let go and rushed for the geologist. Simpkins broke from the astronomer and caught the spinning wheel just as the geologist knocked the captain down.
"Oh," cried the pathologist, "I believe you've killed him."
"I hope so," said the hero of the occasion, with rather a pale face, "I'm not going to be bullied by any coarse brute of a sailor."
"But he's the captain," said Simpkins.
But mutiny was in their hearts. They all talked at once, and the pathologist felt the captain's skull to see whether it was still sound.
"Will he die?"
"No," said the doctor, "he has a skull like a ram's. Take him below."
"And lock him in," said the astronomer. "And we can argue with him through the door."
It was a happy thought, and even Simpkins, in spite of his ingrained respect for the lawful authority of the most lawless skipper, approved the suggestion.
"You ain't all so soft as you look," said Simpkins, "but the sea does bring the devil out in a man if so be he's got any."
And they carried Captain Joseph Prowse down below. As his cabin door would not lock, they jammed short pieces of sawed lumber between it and the other side of the alley way.
"It's mutiny," said Simpkins, "but it's done, and maybe he'll cool off when he comes to and finds his 'ead aching."
But nevertheless the situation was not pleasant, and no one was quite certain as to what should be done.
"Hold a committee meeting," said the entomologist.
The others said that was nonsense. Simpkins, who now looked on the geologist as captain of the mutineers, touched his hat to him, and begged leave to speak.
"Well," said the geologist, "what is it?"
"Ain't some of you gents good at instruments?" asked Simpkins. "For if you are, and if you could get hold of a sextant, it would be doin' things regular if you was to take a sight of the sun."
The ethnologist turned to the astronomer.
"How humanity yearns for a certain regularity!" he said; "it would really comfort Simpkins if you would squint at the sun through a gaspipe."
"You find me the sextant," said the astronomer, "and I'll do it."
"What, you?" said Simpkins. "I'd never ha' thought it."
Though he could not be induced to say in public why he would never have thought it, in private he revealed to the inquisitive ethnologist that the astronomer looked "the measliest of the whole gang, sir."
The discussion, which had been held on deck, with Simpkins at the wheel, was broken up by the captain hammering furiously on his jammed door.
"Go down and soothe him," said Simpkins nervously, "and mind you tell him I done nothin' but give in to superior overwhelmin' odds. For so I did, gentlemen, so I did, as you know, bein' those as done it."
The committee went below, with the geologist leading. He carried his belaying-pin in his pocket. As they marched, the uproar was tremendous.
"What a skull he must have!" said the ethnologist. "I wish I had it in my collection."
"So do I," said the pathologist
And the authority on philology pressed to the front rank, for Captain Joseph Prowse was doing his best.
"Lemme out," he roared; "oh, when I do get out, I'll show you what I am."
"Shut up!" said the young geologist, with firmness.
The captain gave an audible gasp.
"Shut up?" he inquired weakly.
"Yes," said the leader, "and give us your sextant, if you have one."
"Well, I'm damned," said Prowse, after a long and striking pause. "May I inquire if you've took command? For if so, and you require my services to peel pertaters and sweep the deck, just say so, and let me out."
"Will you be civil if we let you out?" asked the astronomer kindly.
"Civil?" said Prowse, choking; "what do you think?"
"We don't think you will be," replied the astronomer, "from the tone of your voice."
"I'm sure he won't be," said the geologist.
"I think we'd better keep him where he is," said the rest anxiously; "why, the man's nothing but a raging lunatic."
"Oh!" said Prowse from within. "Look here, you mutineers, is Simpkins in this?"
"No," said the geologist, who showed a little humour occasionally, "he's out of it. He tried to rescue you, so we hung him. But he came to again, and is now at the wheel. What about that sextant?"
"I ain't got no sextant," said Prowse sulkily. He recognised it was no use kicking, and the rum was dying out of his aching head.
"Then let's go on deck," said the men of science. "What's the use of talking to him."
"Oh, please," said the subdued skipper; but they paid no attention, and returned to Simpkins.
At various intervals during the day Prowse made more and more pitiful appeals to be let out. But as the weather was clear and bright, Simpkins and his "overwhelming odds" were at work on deck, and paid little or no attention. Simpkins now did not take his line from the skipper, but, feeling that the command was in commission, adopted the manner of the sergeant-instructor at a gymnasium.
"Now, if a couple or four of you gentlemen would keep the pumps going," he urged from his station at the wheel, "we should get along a deal better. And if you, sir, would come and take the wheel agin for two shakes of a lamb's tail, I don't see no reason I shouldn't loose the upper main-topsail."
So the geologist took the wheel while Simpkins went aloft and loosed the upper main-topsail.
"Supposing you wanted to have less sail presently," said the astronomer to Simpkins, when the topsail was set, "what would you do?"
"You gents would 'ave to 'elp stow it," said Simpkins.
"What, go aloft?" asked the astronomer.
"And why not?" demanded Simpkins. "It's easy, going aloft—as easy as fallin' from the side of an 'ouse."
"So I should think," cried the astronomer, shivering. "I hope the weather will remain fine."
"You know it's really remarkable how useful such an uneducated man can be," he said presently to some of the others. "Now, what use am I?"
Simpkins was passing and heard this. He paused and eyed the astronomer.
"Well, to speak the truth, sir," he said sympathetically, "you ain't much; but you do what you can at the end of a rope. And I shouldn't be surprised if you're all right at 'ome."
"All of which is good against vanity," said the astronomer, as the barque under most of her plain sail steered east-south-east into the track of the Atlantic liners. "And do you know, absurd as it may seem, I am beginning to feel very well indeed—better than I have done for years."
As the night fell, the captain, who had by that time lost all his alcoholic courage, appealed for mercy. He shouted his petition to those on deck through the cabin port-hole. But he tried Simpkins first.
"Simpkins," he yelled.
"Yes, sir," said Simpkins, with his head over the rail.
"Come and let me out."
"I darn't, sir," said Simpkins; "they're all very fierce and savage agin you, especial about your using bad language, and each of 'em 'as a belayin'-pin and is a-watchin' of me. It's more than my life's worth to let you out. And——"
"Yes," said the skipper.
"It's more'n yours is worth too. You must ask 'em civil."
"And give your word of honour," suggested the ferocious geologist in a whisper.
"And give your word of honour——"
"To act civilly and quietly to every one."
"To act civil and quiet, sir," said Simpkins.
"And not to talk too much about authority, or drink any more rum," prompted the savage astronomer.
"And not to be too rumbumptious, or to get squiffy again," said Simpkins.
"For," said the brutal geologist, "if you will agree to these terms, we shall be glad of your advice and assistance, Captain Prowse."
"I'll think of it," returned the skipper sulkily.
"All right," said the rude geologist, "take a day or two to think it over."
"Oh, Lord," said Prowse hastily. "I've thought of it, and I agree."
And when he came on deck the savage and ferocious scientific captains remarked in a friendly manner that it was a fine evening.
"Damme," said the one-time skipper, "I'm blowed ifIain't the crew of theKamma Funder."
The mate or thePalembangwalked the weather side of the poop, and felt just then that he was full up to the back teeth of the mighty sea and all its works. He yearned for Leith Walk or Wapping; to lie on a hot dry beach would be heaven, for the hot wet south-west monsoon was blowing thePalembangtowards Bombay, and the Maldivhs were on the starboard beam.
Jack Wilson propped his eyes open and cursed the slow passage of time towards midnight. As he peered down below at the lighted clock he was inclined to swear that the second mate had come out and stopped it. But presently it was five minutes to twelve, and to his disgust sleepiness passed away as his relief stumbled up the poop ladder and came aft. "Jerusalem, but it's dark," said the second greaser, as he looked up aloft and round about him.
"Have the gas lit," growled Wilson, as he was going forward.
"Sulky devil!" replied the second. "When do you have a civil word for any one?"
This was all in the night's work, and no one was a penny the worse. Civility at midnight is often too dear to be bought from any one but an inferior; and Wilson and Green knew each other very well.
ThePalembangwas running with the wind on the port quarter, and for a quiet life the old lady was under shortened canvas. She went at it like an old dame in wind and snow; a reefed foresail represented picked-up petticoats; the stowed royals and topgallant-sails suggested that a hat with feathers had been replaced by a handkerchief. For the monsoon was blowing stiff that July night seven degrees to the north of the Line, and threatened to blow stiffer yet.
As it was getting towards two o'clock, or four bells, the captain came on deck, and nodded at the binnacle when Green said: "Good-morning, sir." Then he spread his legs out and considered the dark universe for awhile.
"It has waked up a bit since I went below, Mr. Green," he said presently; and, wanting no answer, he got none. The song of the wind in the rigging and the draught under the foot of the foresail were answer sufficient. There was a pleasing hiss alongside as thePalembangshoved through the Indian Ocean and left a lighter wake behind.
"There's a vigia marked on the chart for hereabouts," said Captain Spiller presently; "it got there through that old fool Banks of theSimoom. He reported it years ago, but it warn't never confirmed. Rocks, he said, and one like Cleopatra's Needle."
"Then you don't credit it either, sir?" asked Green presently.
"I know Banks," replied Spiller, snorting, "and never was such a man for imagination and want of judgment. I'd take it as proof positive as nothing was, if he said it stood to reason it must be. And I'm a man as likes a clean and decent chart. A chart is the character give to an ocean by them as has employed it, a bundle ofchits, as the Hindoo beggars say, and to go an' lump in a suspicion agin' the character of an ocean on the word of a man like Banks, why, I've no patience. I've a notion that the law of libel ought to have a say in it."
"Aye, sir," said Green. "The Indian OceanversusBanks."
"And I'd believe it of Banks that he done it just to get his name mentioned, and to rise a bit of a palaver about him. He's a most conceited chap is Banks, and not by any means the seaman he'd like to be thought. And they actually sent a man-o'-war down to look up hisSimoomRocks and they came back and never seen 'em."
"And nobody else ever did, sir?"
"Of course not," said Spiller; "they might as well set traps to catch the rats that a man sees when he's got the jimjams. And nothing makes Banks angrier than to throw out a hint you don't believe in them rocks. I always gets him on it, by asking for a clean chart and proved shoals, and what not, and giving it him hot and heavy on vigias and the like. Bah, I ain't no patience."
And Spiller tramped the deck for a bit. Presently he came back to where Green stood.
"He'll be in Bombay before us," he said gloomily. "I have to own theSimoom'sfaster than thePalembang, but if she was sailed by a better man she'd make quicker passages. Why, an engineer in a steamer can pass a thorough sailor in a scow."
His heart was bitter, but the thought that Her Majesty's cruiserAmphionhad discredited theSimoomvigia was balm to his inmost soul, as he turned to go below.
"Keep a bright look-out," he growled, and he left Green to consider the matter of vigias in general, and theSimoomvigia in particular.
For these vigias, the terror of seamen, are like malicious spirits. Some man has seen them, or has imagined them, and for ever after they bear sway in the minds of those who sail upon the great deep. Perhaps they are but a floating mass of wreck, on which the sea breaks; in the south, what was seen was, it may be, a drifting berg; on the shores of West Africa, perchance a river has sent out a floating island. Any accident of imagination may create them; alcohol bears them on its tide: they are the rats and ghosts and terrible creeping things of the delirium of the sea that is born of rum. A heavy heeled spar as it floats becomes a pinnacle of rock; the boat that bears dead men in it is for ever after to be avoided. Here a rip of currents, and there a heavy overfall, become fixed terrors and are given names.
For this is the sea that is unknown yet, and shall for ever be unknown. It works upon the mind of man very subtly, and yet again with tremendous strength. Under the sea are earthquakes, and in it volcanoes. Of these islands are born, and again they pass away, while the little creature man skims upon the surface of the ocean like a water-beetle, and may be seen no more.
When Green was left alone upon the poop of thePalembang, save for the presence of the man at the wheel, something of the wonderful majesty of the sea came down upon him, and for a moment touched his nerves. Trust in the captain he had none, for Spiller was of the usual alcoholic order; so he got out the chart and looked at it. There stood the vigia marked "Simoom Rock." Perhaps it existed after all. He remembered the history of the Aurora Islands to the cast of the Falklands. Even now, some old sailors believe there are such islands, real land, not ice grounded on deep soundings. And the Simoom vigia was close at hand, if it existed at all. Allowing for sufficient uncertainty in its supposed position, it might be anywhere within a degree. He stared out into the darkness and imagined he saw it. It was here, it was there, it was nowhere: it was a wraith of the mind, and dissolved. He put back his night-glasses, and whistled, till he remembered there was quite enough wind, and that he had no desire to turn the hands up to shorten sail.
"Jerusalem, it is dark," he said again, and he recalled Wilson's reply, "Have the gas lit." Aye, that would be pleasant. For a moment he saw the streets of London town with a diminuendo in lamps, and then he pulled himself together. It breezed up a bit and was four bells. He hove the log, and went along the lee side to go below to enter it on the slate. She made a biggish weather roll, and the decks being slippery, he steadied himself and put his head outside the rail to take a look ahead. And at that moment, as he says, he saw the Simoom vigia. His heart stood still, and then thumped furiously. In spite of the hiss of the seas, and the windy roar of the rigging, the sound of his pulse in his ears was like the sound of a pump. He was paralysed, and yet he knew that thePalembangwas rushing on destruction.
"Hard a starboard!" he said coolly, but in a choking voice.
"Sir?" said the astounded man at the wheel.
"Hard a starboard, damn you," said Green fiercely.
And the helmsman ground the wheel hard down with the air of a surprised martyr. As thePalembangbowed and came round almost at right angles to her former course, Green swears he saw broken water, though he lost the sharp pinnacle of rock he had seen at first.
Old Spiller, who was not asleep, came up on deck in a hurry.
"What's she off her course for?"
Green told him, and Spiller swore.
"You saw nothing, you damn fool."
"I did."
"You didn't, you imaginative ass."
Green wanted to plant his fist between Spiller's eyes, but did not; for he was a married man and hated to lose a job. He ground his teeth and turned away. ThePalembangwas put on her course again, and after interrogating the man on the look-out and the man at the wheel, who acknowledged they had seen nothing, the skipper swore promiscuously at everything, and went below to lay his soul in soak.
"What one man sees another'll look for, and what a fool looks for a fool will see," he cried, without knowing what a neat addition he had made to the subject of suggestion. And by the time that Wilson relieved him at four o'clock Green was curiously uncertain as to whether he had seen straight or not.
"Now, did you?" asked Wilson.
"Two hours ago I'd have sworn to it," said the second mate, scratching his head.
"Well, I've a notion you did," cried Wilson. "Between you and me and the mizzen-mast, I think Banks is a right smart man."
"I believe I can swear I saw it," said young Green, much encouraged. "Yes, there were at least three rocks, one of them a pinnacle like an obelisk."
And with Wilson secretly on his side, he was quite sure of it before they reached Bombay, though Spiller was for ever jeering at him, and making the ship as uncomfortable as he could.
"Mebbe you can see ghosts, too," he was constantly suggesting.
"I'll quit at Bombay if he'll give me my discharge," said Green.
And sure enough Spiller did, when he met Green on the Apollo Bunda in a confidential yarn with Banks, who, for a seaman of the old class, was a very gentlemanly man with neat white whiskers.
"You've been encouraging him about that vigia," roared Spiller, and when he wrote out Green's discharge, he offered to give him a special character for seeing ghosts.
"But not rats!" said Green nastily, as he put his discharge into his pocket; for the last time Spiller overdrank himself he had a very bad time with rodents.
It was the best of luck for Green that he got out of thePalembang, for Banks's mate fell ill, and the second had no mate's ticket. So Green, being in great favour, through having seen the poor discredited Simoom vigia, got the job, for he had passed for mate just before signing as second in thePalembang.
Banks took him round with him, and again tackled the captain of theAmphionabout that vigia, showing his new witness; but Captain Melville shook his head.
"The old man is crazy about those rocks," was all he said, as he refused to discuss the matter.
But Banks and Spiller went at it hammer and tongs when they met ashore.
"He saw nothing," said Spiller.
"Only what I saw."
"I told the fool about it and he imagined the rest, as you did."
Banks fumed.
"Lucky you didn't run thePalembangon my imagination. Slow as she goes, she'd have slammed herself into matchwood."
Spiller choked with rage.
"Look here, I'll sail all over your blooming rocks, as I have done afore. You just made this up to get notoriety, and have your ship's name on the chart, and be put in the Directory. I know you, Banks, and I don't think much of you, and never did. To get yourself talked about you'd report that you'd seen theFlying Dutchman. Vigias, indeed! A disfigurement on any chart! You'll have the chart of the Indian Ocean as big a disgrace as the North Atlantic if you have your way. Didn't you find nothing new to report this time?"
Banks rose up in a towering rage.
"You're no gentleman, Captain Spiller, and I'll speak no more with you, not till you own that the Simoom Rocks are real. And may you never have occasion to rue finding them out as such. I'll let you know I've as great a respect for the chart as you have, and if you ever run your old tub on my rocks, you can call 'em Spiller's Reef, for all I care, so there," and he perspired off to his vessel.
In shipping circles opinion was divided between the master of theSimoomand the master of thePalembang. And it being the fashion of the sailorman, or, for that matter, of human-kind in general, to decide matters that admit of doubt according to personal prejudice and ancient opinion, there were more on Spiller's side than on Banks's. For one thing, it is the perpetual ambition of all true sons of the ocean to discover something new and have his ship's name tagged on to it, and every one was jealous of Banks. When theAmphionlooked for the rocks without success, they threw out dark hints about a dead whale or a tree stump having been seen, and some said "Rum," just as others said "Rats," contemptuously.
Others, with a very fine contempt for the Navy, were of opinion that Captain Melville of H.M.S.Amphionconsidered he owned half the Indian Ocean and all the Arabian Sea, and would be as much put out at finding an unmarked rock or shoal in either as if he slipped upon an old chew on his own quarterdeck. These were on Banks's side, of course. And some who disliked Spiller said they believed in this new set of rocks to annoy him, ending very naturally in holding the opinion they argued for.
When old Banks got on the high horse and swore he would not speak again to the disbeliever in the vigia, he meant it, and added details to his statement.
"Not if I found him in a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean," he swore excitedly.
The quarrel was as bitter as polemic theology. Spiller was a rank atheist, a scorner, a scoffer, a pagan, a heathen. If Banks had written a new creed, he would have begun it: "I believe in theSimoomRocks to the west of the Maldivhs." He clung to their existence pathetically, and when an impecunious skipper of a storm-disgruntled tramp wanted to borrow a couple of hundred rupees from him, and remarked incidentally that he had seen broken water in the supposed position of the discredited reef, Banks forked out with enthusiasm and took down a lying statement joyfully.
But when theSimoomwas ready for sea again, that same tramp skipper, who was a wild disgrace to the respectable mystery of the sea, executed a few manoeuvres which let thePalembangget ahead of her. For the tramp (Julius Cæsarwas her name) had engines of an obstinate and eccentric character. Sometimes they worked, and sometimes they didn't, and on this particular occasion they refused to be reversed at any price. As theJulius Cæsarwouldn't go astern, her captain shoved her at the crowded shipping ahead and put her through, whooping on the bridge like a maniac. He grazed three other steamers, took a bumpkin off a sailing vessel, slipped between two others, and in one last complicated evolution smashed the jibboom of theSimoom, brought down her fore-topgall'n'-mast, and escaped to sea in a cyclone of curses of which the calm centre was thePalembang.
"I'll report you," said Spiller to Banks, when he left Bombay.
"Go to hell," cried Banks, who rarely swore save in a gale of wind.
"After you," said Spiller, with what is popularly known as truly Oriental politeness; and as a parting taunt he sang out, "What about them rocks?"
"You're an ungrammatical, uneducated man," screamed Banks, dancing furiously.
But Green and Wilson waved their caps to each other. For all their way of passing compliments when one gave the other a Western Ocean relief at midnight, they were good friends.
TheSimoomgot to sea inside of forty-eight hours, for Banks lost no time. He had made up his mind to waste some on the next chance he had of looking for his blessed rocks, unless the monsoon blew too hard.
They had a fairly decent show running down the coast on the inside of the Laccadivhs, and, taking the usual circumbendibus to the eastward between Keeling and the Chagos Archipelago, picked up beautiful "passage" winds and south-east trades, and went home booming. Green found Banks a first-class "old man," and theSimoomas comfortable as a good bar parlour, compared with the sorry old bug-hauntedPalembang, where a man's toes got sore with the pedicuring work of cockroaches. He made up his mind to stick to her, as he evidently suited Banks. They both got cracked a little on theSimoomRocks, and gradually talked themselves into the belief of a shark's-tooth reef a mile long with one special fang that rivalled a young peak of Teneriffe.
ThePalembangcame into Liverpool River about three weeks after theSimoom, and Green, back at work after ten days at home, had a high time with Wilson. But the skippers passed each other with their noses in the air as high as squirrels' tails, and never swopped a word in a fortnight.
As luck would have it, they were both for Bombay again, only to give Spiller a chance of getting there first, theSimoomwas to call at the Cape. Just before thePalembangcleared, Banks and Spiller fell up against each other on the landing stage, and as Spiller was full up to his back-teeth and uvula, he broke silence and went for the upholder of the vigia in high style. He could have taken a first-class in bad language at any Australian back-blocks academy of cursing—and what they don't know in blasphemy there can only be learnt from a low-class Spaniard. So the air was blue from Liverpool to Manchester, and to the Isle of Man, and Banks got up and left. For when he was ashore he was very religious. Even at sea he carried a prayer-book and an odd volume of virulent sermons, of the kind which indicate that no man need forgive any enemy who is not of the same persuasion. But to tell the truth, Banks could have forgiven anything but an insult to his beloved rocks.
"Such a man oughtn't to live," he cried angrily, as he went off in a tremulous rage. "He's predestined to the pit!"
And he trusted that Providence might one day yield him a chance of getting even. His prayers were fervent towards that end, and if Providence works, as it sometimes appears to do, through rum and ignorance and a good conceit in a man, there was a chance of his appeals being attended to.
On the passage out to the Cape they saw nothing of thePalembang. But there she was heard of as having being seen somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Agulhas Bank, having a real good time in that native home of the god of the winds, where fifty per cent. of all the breezes that do blow are gales that dance in and out and about like a cooper round a cask.
But theSimoomhad luck, and slipped through as if Æolus never spotted her. And old Banks chortled happily, and sang an extra hymn on Sunday, compensating the men (otherwise disposed to growl at the innovation) with an extra lot of grog. For your true sailorman is the real conservative, and things that don't happen in the first week of a new ship have no business to happen afterwards—which is a hint some young second mates may find handy to remember. And remembering this will enable you to see why no true old shellback will ship in a steamboat, any more than the guard of a coach would let himself to any beastly new railroad.
The south-west monsoon had backed down to the Line about the time they crossed it; and theSimoomsweated up to the Maldivhs very comfortably.
"We've made a good passage—a ripping good passage," said old Banks, rubbing his hands, "and I'm condemned if I don't shape a course for my rocks, Mr. Green."
As he had been shaping for them ever since he had deliberately gone out of his way to take the route east of Madagascar, instead of the Inner or Mozambique route, Green winked the other eye and said nothing. To tell the truth, he himself had a hankering to set his mind at rest on the subject, for he felt his credit involved with the skipper's.
The man at the wheel overheard what Banks said, and when he stumped for'ard the whole crew knew that theSimoomwas looking for a needle in the Indian Ocean.
"A life's job, my bullies," said their informant. "We'll be like the crew of theFlying Dutchmanyet."
"I'm wondering whether Spiller came up this way, now," said old Banks presently, with an interrogative cock of his head.
"And not by the channel?" asked Green.
Banks turned about.
"Mr. Green, may the Lord forgive me, but I just hate that Spiller with an unholy hatred. Every time he gets a show he brags he's run right over where I located my rocks, and not only that, but criss-cross in the latitude where they might be. And he set about that he'd herring-boned a course on the chart on the longitude, going back and forth on it like a dog in a turnip field. So now he'll be up here again to have another shy for it. If he saw 'em, he'd swear he never. And why he hates me so I can't tell, unless it was I did my duty once, and let him know what a God-fearing man thought of a blasphemer."
Green nodded.
"That's likely it, sir."
"So it is, so it is," cried Banks pensively; "he has no grace in him, and he set it about, I know, that I soak at sea if I'm sober ashore. He said my rocks were delirium tremens; and I'm a discredited man, wounded in a tender spot."
It was just four bells in the forenoon watch then, and soon after they snugged her down, as the wind was very heavy in puffs and the sky low and dark. Just before eight bells Green spotted a vessel on the starboard bow, and called the old man. He came on deck like a whiteheaded Jack-in-the-Box.
"Keep her away," he cried. "I'll bet she's thePalembang. Shake out them reefs and hoist the main-t'gall'n's'l again."
His grammar failed in excitement.
"We're overhauling her hand over hand, anyhow," suggested Green.
"If I can pass him going two foot for his one, I'd run theSimoomunder," screamed the skipper. "And when we come up with him, if my voice in a trumpet can carry, I'll tell him what I think of him. He thinks I'm soft because I sing hymns on Sunday. I'll let him know before I sang hymns I was the biggest tough on the Australian coast. God's truth I was! And I wish I was now—oh, how I wish it, and him ashore with me!"
And Green believed it, because he had to! There was something in the old man's eye as he walked to and fro, an unregenerate blood-thirsty snap, that was very convincing. So the reefs were shaken out of the topsails, and even that did not satisfy the skipper.
"I'll let him know that a saved and repentant Christian isn't necessary a worm," said Banks. "Mr. Green, set the mainsail!"
TheSimoomwas snoring through it now, and Green stared.
"What she can't carry she may drag," said the skipper, with flashing eyes.
And theSimoomlost her courtesy with the sea under the influence of the mainsail, for the monsoon was a stiff one. She shouldered the Indian Ocean aside like a policeman shoving through a crowd; she scooped up tons of it as a scraper team scoops sand, and ran at any extra sea like a bull at a hedge. The men were under the break of the t'gallant foc'sle, sheltering from the cataract. They knew thePalembangwas ahead, and were as eager as the skipper to overhaul her. Through the bos'on and his mate it had leaked out that the old man was keen for a palaver with Spiller.
"He's like a bull whale in a flurry," said one who had been whaling. "Now my notion is that the skipper kin blaspheme if he wants to."
ThePalembangwas visibly herself and no other vessel by this time, and she carried all she could stand.
"I've half a notion to have the t'gall'n-sails set," said Banks, looking up aloft. "And if we weren't overhauling her twenty-three to the dozen, damme, but I would!"
For thePalembangshowed nothing above her reefed topsails, and the foresail had a reef in it, and theSimoomcame after her like the inside edge of a cyclone.
"Gimme my trumpet," cried Banks. "Mr. Green, take the wheel, and run her as close as maybe."
And the second mate stood at the main-topsail halliards.
"Palembangahoy!" yelled Banks through his trumpet as he came tearing up on the weather side of his enemy's ship.
"Where the blue blazes are you coming to?" shrieked Spiller, who was both drunk and angry.
"Passing you as if you was standing still, you low, uneducated swine," said Banks. "And I could do it under jury rig."
"What about them rocks?" jeered Spiller through his trumpet. "What's the price of vigias, you notorious old liar, you disgrace to the perfession?"
They were close alongside now, not half a cable's length apart; a good cricketer could have shied a cricket ball the distance easily.
"Leggo the main-topsail halliards," said Banks, and then to the surprise of his crew and the utter astonishment of Spiller he poured out a torrent of the most blood-curdling abuse which had ever defiled the Indian or any other ocean.