A SLEEPY SHIP'S COMPANY.
The wind was from the west, and there was but little of it. Tom knew a
great deal more about sailing a boat than when he tried to handle the
Goldwing; and he trimmed the sails on the port-tack so that the schooner
went along very well, though she was making not more than two knots an
hour. It was very dark, and the gloom of the night was rather trying to
the new skipper. But he could see the light on Split Rock Point, and
steered for that.
It was very quiet on the lake at midnight, for there was nothing to
create a particle of excitement. There was nothing to be done to the
sails; for Tom could hardly see them, and he was not skilful enough to
know their condition from the feeling. He had sent Kidd Digfield and
Pell Sankland to the forecastle to keep a lookout, while the other four
remained in the standing-room with the chief.
Tom had hardly laid a course before his companions began to gape and
yawn. Not one of them was accustomed to being up at so late an hour; and
all of them had done a day's work in the shop, and pulled the Winooski
for an hour after supper. They were tired; and, when the first
excitement of Tom's scheme had died out, they began to wish they were in
bed in their rooms.
The lookout on the forecastle were troubled in the same way. There was
nothing to do, and little to think about. The leader's sealed orders did
not permit any play of the imagination; and what the day would bring
forth they could not imagine, even if every thing worked as Tom
expected. Kidd gaped, and Pell gaped. They found the softest places on
deck, and stretched themselves out. In a few minutes they were both fast
asleep.
With the wheel in his hands, Tom had enough to keep him awake for a
time. Bent Fillwing had not a great deal of confidence in the seamanship
of the skipper, and he kept watch of the course of the boat. But, with
the light ahead, it was not easy for him to go wrong; for there were no
islands or dangerous places in the course.
"Are we all to sit up all night, Tom?" asked Bent, when he had nearly
dislocated his jaws with gaping. "Some of us might as well go to bed,
and sleep till morning."
"I guess not," replied Tom. "Do you want to leave me alone on deck?"
"Why can't we have watches, just as we had on the trial trip?" asked
Bent, gaping again.
"All right. In that case we shall want a mate, and I appoint Nim
Splugger. I will keep the other watch myself."
If Bent had not been rather more than half asleep, he might have
rebelled at this selection; for Nim was generally regarded as one of the
poorest sailors in the crew. But he made no objection; though Nim,
conscious of his lack of ability, declined the position. He did not feel
competent to take charge of the vessel in the absence of the skipper. He
whispered his thought to Tom, and suggested that he should appoint Bent
to the position.
"I won't do it!" exclaimed Tom decidedly.
"Won't do what?" demanded Bent, who heard this answer, though he had not
heard Nim's suggestion.
The skipper made no reply, but he insisted that Nim would do very well,
and must be mate, whether he were willing or not. Bent Fillwing had a
mind of his own, and he was disposed to resist the authority of the
leader sometimes. Tom was afraid to make him his second in command. He
feared that Kidd and Pell might be weak when he needed their support,
and he could not depend upon them. Jack Dumper was about the same sort
of a cipher as Nim.
"If Nim is to be mate, let us have the crew divided into watches," said
Bent impatiently, and with a succession of yawns.
"I choose Jack Dumper," added Tom.
"I take Bent Fillwing," continued Nim, submitting to the greatness
thrust upon him.
"Pell Sankland," said the captain.
"Kidd Diggfield," followed the mate, taking the last.
"According to rule, the captain's watch has the deck, and the port-watch
can turn in," continued Bent, rising from his seat. "We are to sleep for
the next four hours. You will call us at four in the morning, Tom."
"I shall call you when I want you," said Tom sharply; for Bent talked as
though he were the skipper, and he damaged the dignity of the captain.
"By that time you can hear the church-clocks at Burlington, and you will
know when it is four o'clock. Now, Nim, go forward, and call Kidd
Digfield."
"Go yourself, Bent," interposed Tom, who thought the speaker was giving
off orders as though he thought he was the captain.
But Nim was not injured by the words of his subordinate, and he went
forward. He roused the sleepers, and informed them that they were
divided into watches, and Kidd could turn in. He was glad enough to do
so, and he followed the mate to the cabin. This apartment was a
good-sized room, and contained four berths. They were all furnished; and
every thing on board was in place, as though she had been prepared for a
long voyage. There was a lantern hanging to a beam, which Bent lighted.
Without a moment's delay they turned in, and were soon asleep.
Pell Sankland wished he had been in the starboard-watch, but it was all
the same to him. He turned over and went to sleep again, as soon as Kidd
had gone below. Jack Dumper had reclined on the cushioned seats of the
standing-room, and he was asleep almost as soon as the lookout on the
forecastle.
Tom Topover had an imagination, coarse and low as it was; and its wings
were not clipped by the secrecy which limited the thoughts of his
companions. The Lily passed Split Rock Light, and the lake was wider
than below this point. The wind freshened a little, and the schooner
increased her speed.
Tom did not feel quite as much at home as he had before. The gloom of
the night vexed him, and the water looked black. He had never been a
close observer of the lake; but he knew that there were islands between
the mouth of Beaver River and Burlington, and it would not be a
difficult matter to run over them. He had never sailed at night before,
and knew nothing of the position of the lights, except the one on Split
Rock Point. He could see another ahead, just as far as he could see at
all; but he had forgotten where it was, if he had ever known.
The skipper was troubled, and spoke to Jack Dumper; but the fellow was
fast asleep. He stood up, and looked ahead to see if there were any
obstructions in his course. He could see nothing, but he lacked
confidence. He thought of calling Bent, for he knew more about the lake
than any other fellow on board; but he could not ask for help from one
who aspired to power. In spite of himself and the perplexity of his
position, he began to gape and yawn. He was so sleepy he could hardly
keep his eyes open, and something must be done.
Taking Jack Dumper by the collar, he dragged him off the cushions before
he could get a word out of him. His watch-mate knew less than the
skipper about the lake. He could not tell any thing about the islands.
He sent him forward to ask Pell. The lookout was roused with difficulty;
and, when he was awake, he was so heavy that he could not remember that
there was a single island in the lake. Tom rated both of his watch-mates
for going to sleep; and, putting the helm down, he directed them to haul
in the sheets. They knew how to do this, and it was done.
The skipper could keep his eyes open no longer, and he dropped asleep
once at the wheel. But the shaking of the sails waked him in a minute.
He had headed the Lily for Cannon's Point, where she had anchored on
Saturday. He called on his watch to haul down the jib and let go the
anchor. The wind was light, and he did not lower the other sails. He
dismissed the watch, and they all went below. Tom took the remaining
berth, and his two companions laid down on a divan. They were asleep as
soon as they had stretched themselves out.
When the sun rose, it brought up a breeze with it from the south-west.
The sails which had been left in a very unseamanlike condition, began to
rattle and bang. They filled, and the schooner forged ahead until she
was brought up by her anchor. Then the sails went over, and filled on
the other tack; and the racket was repeated. As the wind increased in
force, the noise and shaking increased, until even the heavy sleepers in
the cabin were disturbed. Bent Fillwing was the first to wake. He rushed
to the companion-way, and took a look at things on deck.
The schooner was at anchor, and the jib was hauled down. He returned to
the cabin, and saw Tom fast asleep in his berth. The rest of the
starboard-watch were snoring on the divan. At this moment the wind
filled the fore and main sails, and the yacht heeled over till Bent
could hardly stand up.
"Tom Topover!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "You are a pretty
captain!"
"What's the matter, Bent?" asked Tom, straightening himself up in his
berth.
"Nothing yet, but something will soon be the matter. Is this the way you
sail the schooner? You are a pretty captain, to turn in and leave the
Lily to take care of herself!" raved Bent, indignant at the conduct of
the captain.
"Hold your jaw, Bent Fillwing, or I will bat you over the head!"
returned Tom, as soon as he came to the consciousness that he was the
captain of the schooner, and that one of the crew was scolding at him.
"Go on deck, and lower the sails!"
"Lower the sails! Are you going to stay here all day? It is sunrise now,
and we ought to be down to Plattsburgh by this time," replied Bent.
"I am captain of this craft, and you will obey orders," added Tom, as he
turned over in his berth, as if he intended to go to sleep again.
The racket on board had aroused Pell Sankland and Kidd Digfield. Bent
told them to follow him, and he went on deck. They were surprised, as
Bent had been, to find the schooner at anchor under the lee of Cannon's
Point. Without losing any time, and without regard to the orders of the
sleepy captain, they got up the anchor, hoisted the jib, and the Lily
stood away from her anchorage.
Bent put Kidd Digfield at the wheel, and then went into the cabin to
"have it out" with the captain. Though he had learned all about nautical
obedience on board of the Sylph, he was not inclined to practise it on
the present occasion. In fact, he was disposed to be a rebel, and to
bring the captain to a sense of duty. He went to Tom's berth. The chief
Topover was fast asleep.
The skipper had settled on his back, with his arms spread out. Bent was
on the point of taking him by the collar, to bring him to a sense of
duty,—for he had lost all his respect for the dignity of the office,
since the incumbent had abandoned his post,—when he saw something
protruding from the vest-pocket of the sleeper.
It looked like a roll of bank-bills. Without disturbing the unconscious
skipper, he laid hands upon it, and adroitly secured possession of it.
He did not wait to have it out with Tom. As he had supposed when he
first saw it, the object was a roll of bills. With his prize, Bent went
on deck again.