THE MAN OUTSIDE THE GALLEY
Strange events happened in our first month at sea--events so subtle as
perhaps to seem an unimportant part of this narrative of a strange voyage,
yet really as necessary to the foundation of the story as the single bricks
and the single dabs of mortar at the base of a tall chimney are necessary
to the completed structure. I later had cause to remember each trivial
incident as if it had been written in letters of fire.
In the first dog watch one afternoon, when we were a few days out of port,
I was sitting with my back against the forward deck-house, practising
splices and knots with a bit of rope that I had saved for the purpose. I
was only a couple of feet from the corner, so of course I heard what was
going on just out of sight.
The voices were low but distinct.
"Now leave me alone!" It was Bill Hayden who spoke. "I ain't never troubled
you."
"Ah, so you ain't troubled me, have you, you whimpering old dog?"
"No, I ain't troubled you."
"Oh, no! You was so glad to let me take your nice dry boots, you was, when
mine was filled with water."
The slow, mild, ostensibly patient voice could be none other than
Kipping's.
"I had to wear 'em myself."
"Oh, had to wear 'em yourself, did you?"
"Let go o' my arm!"
"So?"
"Let go, I tell you; let go or I'll--I swear I'll hammer you good."
"Oh, you'll hammer me good, will you?"
"Let go!"
There was a sudden scuffle, then out from the corner of the deck-house
danced Kipping with both hands pressed over his jaw.
"You bloody scoundrel!" he snarled, meek no longer. "You wait--I'll get
you. I'll--" Seeing me sitting there with my bit of rope, he stopped short;
then, with a sneer, he walked away.
Amazed at the sudden departure of his tormentor, Bill Hayden stuck his own
head round the corner and in turn discovered me in my unintentional
hiding-place.
Bill, however, instead of departing in chagrin, joined me with a puzzled
expression on his kind, stupid face.
"I don't understand that Kipping," he said sadly. "I've tried to use him
right. I've done everything I can to help him out and I'm sure I don't want
to quarrel with him, yet for all he goes around as meek as a cat that's
been in the cream, he's always pecking at me and pestering me, till just
now I was fair drove to give him a smart larrup."
Why, indeed, should Kipping or any one else molest good, dull old Bill
Hayden?
"I'm a family man, I am," Bill continued, "with a little girl at home. I
ain't a-bothering no one. I'm sure all I want is to be left alone."
For a time we sat in silence, watching the succession of blue waves through
which the Island Princess cut her swift and almost silent passage. A man
must have been a cowardly bully to annoy harmless old Bill. Yet even then,
young though I was, I realized that sometimes there is no more dangerous
man than a coward and a bully, "He's great friends with the second mate,"
Bill remarked at last. "And the second mate has got no use at all for Mr.
Thomas because he thought he was going to get Mr. Thomas's berth and
didn't; and for the same reason he don't like the captain. Well, I'm glad
he's only _second mate_. He ain't got his hands out of the tar-bucket yet,
my boy."
"How do you know he expected to get the mate's berth?" I asked.
"It's common talk, my boy. The supercargo's the only man aft he's got any
manner of use for, and cook says the steward says Mr. Hamlin ain't got no
manner of use for him. There you are."
"No," I thought,--though I discreetly said nothing,--"Roger Hamlin is not
the man to be on friendly terms with a fellow of the second mate's
calibre."
And from that time on I watched Mr. Falk, the second mate, and the
mild-voiced Kipping more closely than ever--so closely that one night I
stumbled on a surprising discovery.
Ours was the middle watch, and Mr. Falk as usual was on the quarter-deck.
By moonlight I saw him leaning on the weather rail as haughtily as if he
were the master. His slim, slightly stooped figure, silhouetted against the
moonlit sea, was unmistakable. But the winds were inconstant and drifting
clouds occasionally obscured the moon. Watching, I saw him distinctly;
then, as the moonlight darkened, the after part of the ship became as a
single shadow against a sea almost as black. While I still watched, there
came through a small fissure in the clouds a single moonbeam that swept
from the sea across the quarter-deck and on over the sea again. By that
momentary light I saw that Mr. Falk had left the weather rail.
Certainly it was a trifling thing to consider twice, but you must remember,
in the first place, that I was only a boy, with all a boy's curiosity about
trifles, and in the second place that of the four men in the cabin no other
derived such obvious satisfaction from the minor prerogatives of office as
Mr. Falk. He fairly swelled like a frog in the sun as he basked in the
prestige that he attributed to himself when, left in command, he occupied
the captain's place at the weather rail.
Immediately I decided that under the cover of darkness I would see what had
become of him. So I ran lightly along in the shelter of the lee bulwark,
dodging past the galley, the scuttle-butt, and the cabin in turn. At the
quarter-deck I hesitated, knowing well that a sound thrashing was the least
I could expect if Mr. Falk discovered me trespassing on his own territory,
yet lured by a curiosity that was the stronger for the vague rumors on
which it had fed.
On hands and knees I stopped by the farther corner of the cabin. Clouds
still hid the moon and low voices came to my ears. Very cautiously I peeked
from my hiding-place, and saw that Mr. Falk and the helmsman had put their
heads together and were talking earnestly.
While they talked, the helmsman suddenly laughed and prodded Mr. Falk in
the ribs with his thumb. Like a flash it came over me that it was Kipping's
trick at the wheel. Here was absolute proof that, when the second mate and
the mild man thought no one was spying upon them, they were on uncommonly
friendly terms. Yet I did not dream that I had stumbled on anything graver
than to confirm one of those idle rumors that set tongues wagging in the
forecastle, but that really are too trifling to be worth a second thought.
When the crew of a ship is cut off from all communication with the world at
large, it is bound, for want of greater interests, to find in the
monotonous daily round something about which to weave a pretty tale.
At that moment, to my consternation, the bell struck four times. As the two
dark figures separated, I started back out of sight. Kipping's trick at the
wheel was over, and his relief would come immediately along the very route
that I had chosen; unless I got away at once I should in all probability be
discovered on the quarterdeck and trounced within an inch of my life. Then
suddenly, as if to punish my temerity, the cloud passed and the moonlight
streamed down on deck.
Darting lightly back to the companion-ladder, I slipped down it and was on
the point of escaping forward when I heard slow steps. In terror lest the
relief spy me and reveal my presence by some exclamation that Kipping or
the second mate would overhear, I threw myself down flat on the deck just
forward of the scuttle-butt, where the moon cast a shadow; and with the
fervent hope that I should appear to be only a heap of old sail, I lay
without moving a muscle.
The steps came slowly nearer. They had passed, I thought, when a pause set
my heart to jumping madly. Then came a low, cautious whisper:--
"You boy, what you doin' dah?"
It was not the relief after all. It was the good old villainous-looking
black cook, with a cup of coffee for Mr. Falk.
"Put yo' head down dah," he whispered, "put yo' head down, boy."
With a quick motion of his hand he jerked some canvas from the butt so that
it concealed me, and went on, followed by the quick steps of the real
relief.
Now I heard voices, but the only words I could distinguish were in the
cook's deep drawl.
"Yass, sah, yass, sah. Ah brought yo' coffee, sah, Yass, sah, Ah'll wait
fo' yo' cup, sah."
Next came Kipping's step--a mild step, if there is such a thing; even in
his bullying the man was mild. Then came the slow, heavy tread of the
returning African.
Flicking the canvas off me, he muttered, "All's cleah fo' you to git away,
boy. How you done come to git in dis yeh scrape sho' am excruciatin'. You
just go 'long with you while dey's a chanst."
So, carrying with me the very unimportant discovery that I had made, I ran
cautiously forward, away from the place where I had no business to be.
When, in the morning, just before eight bells, I was sent to the galley
with the empty kids, I found the worthy cook in a solemn mood.
"You boy," he said, fixing on me a stare, which his deeply graven frown
rendered the more severe, "you boy, what you think you gwine do, prowlin'
round all hours? Hey? You tell dis nigger dat. Heah Ah's been and put you
onto all de ropes and give you more infohmative disco'se about ships and
how to behave on 'em dan eveh Ah give a green hand befo' in all de years Ah
been gwine to sea, and heah you's so tarnation foolish as go prowlin' round
de quarter-deck whar you's like to git skun alive if Mistah Falk ketches
you."
I don't remember what I replied, but I am sure it was flippant; to the day
of my death I shall never forget the stinging, good-natured cuff with which
the cook knocked my head against the wall. "Sho' now," he growled, "go
'long!"
I was not yet ready to go. "Tell me, doctor," I said, "does the second mate
get on well with the others in the cabin?"
The title mollified him somewhat, but he still felt that he must uphold the
dignity of his office. "Sho' now, what kind of a question is dat fo' a
ship's boy to be askin' de cook?" He glanced at me suspiciously, then
challenged me directly, "Who put dose idea' in yo' head?"
By the tone of the second question, which was quite too straightforward to
be confused with the bantering that we usually exchanged, I knew that he
was willing, if diplomatically coaxed, to talk frankly. I then said
cautiously, "Every one thinks so, but you're the only man forward that's
likely to know."
"Now ain't dat jest like de assumptivity of dem dah men in de forecastle.
How'd Ah know dat kind of contraptiveness, tell me?"
Looking closely at me he began to rattle his pans at a great rate while I
waited in silence. He was not accomplishing much; indeed, he really was
throwing things into a state of general disorder. But I observed that he
was working methodically round the galley toward where I stood, until at
last he bumped into me and started as if he hadn't known that I was there
at all.
"You boy," he cried, "you still heah?" He scowled at me with a particularly
savage intensity, then suddenly leaned over and tapped me on the shoulder.
"You's right, boy," he whispered. "He ain't got no manner of use foh dem
other gen'lems, and what's mo', dey ain't got no manner of use foh him.
Ah's telling you, boy, it's darn lucky, you bet, dat Mistah Falk he eats at
second table. Yass, sah. Hark! dah's de bell--eight bells! Yo' watch on
deck, hey?" After a short pause, he whispered, "Boy, you come sneakin'
round to-morrow night when dat yeh stew'd done gone to bed, an' Ah'll jest
gadder you up a piece of pie f'om Cap'n's table--yass, sah! Eight bells is
struck. Go 'long, you." And shoving me out of his little kingdom, the
villainous-looking darky sent after me a savage scowl, which I translated
rightly as a token of his high regard and sincere friendship.
In my delight at the promised treat, and in my haste to join the watch, I
gave too little heed to where I was going, and shot like a bullet squarely
against a man who had been standing just abaft the galley window. He
collapsed with a grunt. My shoulder had knocked the wind completely out of
him.
"Ugh!--" he gasped--"ugh! You son of perdition--ugh! Why in thunder don't
you look where you're running--ugh!--I'll break your rascally young
neck--ugh--when I get my wind."
It was Kipping, and for the second time he had lost his mildness.
As he clutched at me fiercely, I dodged and fled. Later, when I was hauling
at his side, he seemed to have forgotten the accident; but I knew well
enough that he had not. He was not the kind that forgets accidents. His
silence troubled me. How much, I wondered, had he heard of what was going
on in the galley?