CAPTAIN DUFF’S SHREWDNESS
Although Phil Ryder was generally a hearty eater, he had a dainty
taste, and was very particular about his food. It must be what he
liked, it must be cooked just so, and, above all, it must be served
with cleanliness, or he would rather experience a considerable degree
of hunger than touch it. In this he had been encouraged by his aunt
Ruth, and, to a certain extent, by his father. Now, therefore, he found
the _Seamew’s_ table so far beneath his standard of perfection, and
so very different from those to which he had been accustomed, that he
barely tasted the food prepared for that breakfast. He refused the
coffee――which, as Captain Duff was a great coffee-drinker, was of a
better quality than that usually furnished aboard-ship――nibbled at a
bit of hardtack, and then pushed back his stool.
“What’s up?” inquired the captain, noting this movement with surprise.
“Feeling squeamish? I thought you never got seasick.”
“No, sir, I’m not feeling squeamish, and I’m not in the habit of
getting seasick.”
“Then why don’t ye eat?”
“Because I’m not hungry.”
“Humph! ye’d better say at once that it’s because the victuals don’t
suit ye. Never mind, though; we’ll try and have them fixed to your
liking the next time.”
After breakfast, the mate, who had been up all night, and had brought
the schooner safely through the Strait of Fuca into an open seaway,
turned in for a long sleep, and Captain Duff took the deck.
Phil went forward for his talk with Serge, and learned, among other
things, that the light-house tower of Cape Flattery, which was just
fading from view, marked the most northerly light-station of the United
States on the Pacific coast. When the young hunter wondered at this,
and asked if there were no light-houses in Alaska, Serge replied that
so far as he knew there was not one.
In this statement he was correct, for though many Alaska harbors and
channels are well buoyed and marked by day beacons, yet on all of its
thousands of miles of storm-beaten, fog-enshrouded coast not a light
sends forth its cheery gleam, nor does a single fog-horn give warning
of hidden dangers.
Phil was intensely interested in everything that Serge told him
concerning seals, and now realized for the first time the importance
of his position on board the _Seamew_, and the reason why his skill in
shooting had been so highly regarded by Captain Duff.
“What pay does a seal-hunter generally receive?” he asked, after a
short period of thinking.
“One dollar each for the first one hundred skins, two dollars for the
first two hundred, and so on up to four dollars each for the first four
hundred, I believe,” responded Serge.
“And how many does a good hunter usually secure? What is the average, I
mean?”
“The best I have heard of in a three months’ cruise is four hundred and
sixteen skins,” was the reply.
“Whew!” ejaculated Phil. “That would make his pay for three months’
work something over sixteen hundred dollars. If I could only make half
of that sum, wouldn’t it be fine? How much do the green skins fetch?”
“Anywhere from ten to twenty dollars apiece, according to the demand.”
“I had no idea they were so valuable, and I wish we could begin getting
some right away. I should like to make enough money before reaching
Sitka to replace what I lost by carelessness,” remarked Phil. “I
forgot, though,” he added, with an abrupt change of tone and a comical
expression of dismay. “I have agreed to work without wages, and I
suppose that means that I am not to receive any commission, no matter
how many skins I get. I wonder if I am shipped as a hunter or only as a
sailor?”
“I am sure I don’t know,” answered Serge. “Didn’t you read the paper
before you signed it?”
“No; I was in too much of a hurry, and too glad to be taken on any
terms. Did you read it?”
“No, for I thought, of course, that you had.”
“Well,” sighed Phil, “I have often heard my father say that one should
never sign his name to a paper of any kind without knowing exactly what
it contained. Oh, dear! If a fellow could only remember and do just
what his father told him, how easy it would be to keep out of scrapes.
I wonder why it is that we never think of these things until it is too
late?”
“How lucky those fellows are who have fathers to tell them what to do.
I haven’t had one since I was a little chap and too young to appreciate
him,” said Serge, rather enviously.
At this point in the conversation Captain Duff called Phil aft, and
said that he wished him to join in a shooting-match with the other two
hunters, Ike Croly and Oro Dunn. A number of rifles and shot-guns lay
on top of the cabin-house, while towing astern of the schooner, and
bobbing in her wake at the end of a hundred yards of line, was a round
billet of wood painted black, and about the size of a very small keg.
“Five shots apiece with rifles, six with shot-guns, and I will keep
the score,” announced the captain, adding, “and the one who does the
poorest cleans the guns.”
One after another the young men stepped to the rail and fired without
a rest, with either rifle or shot-gun, as the case might be. Although
the captain, who watched the target through a glass, would announce no
results until the contest was ended, Phil saw so many splashes in the
water while others were shooting, that though he was unable to judge of
his own work, he was almost certain the gun cleaning of that day would
not fall to him.
To his dismay, when the contest was ended, the captain, who had kept
the score in a blank-book, declared that out of the eleven shots fired
by each Ike Croly had scored nine hits and two misses, Oro Dunn eight
hits and three misses, and Phil Ryder five hits and six misses. “You
therefore may take the guns forward and clean ’em,” he said to Phil.
“And I must say I expected better work from you, judging by the way you
bragged yesterday.”
Phil could not understand it. He could not remember having shot so
poorly as that in years. His defeat was the harder to bear on account
of Captain Duff’s scornful words and the triumphant looks of the other
hunters, who, as he had seen from the first, were intensely jealous
of him. Still, there was nothing to be said or done, and gathering up
the guns he went forward to clean them. He was resolved, however, that
when the time came for real action he would show those two who could
bring in the most seal-skins, which was exactly the result that shrewd
Captain Duff wished to obtain.
By the time the young hunter finished his task the morning was well
spent, and he was beginning to sniff with some interest the savory
odors of cooking that came from the galley. As he carried the cleaned
guns into the cabin and placed them in their racks, he was glad to see
that Ebenezer was setting the table for dinner.
When he again went on deck the captain ordered him to bail out the
boat that was towing astern. Looking over the rail, Phil noticed for
the first time that one of the three light whale-boats carried by the
schooner was indeed towing astern by a short painter. He could discover
no way of getting into her save by sliding down the rope by which she
was held, and he wondered if the feat were possible. His hesitation was
but momentary, however, for he saw that his hunter rivals and several
of the crew were watching him curiously.
So the lad swung himself over the rail, and tightly clutching the
rope with both hands and feet, slid downward. As he reached the boat,
his weight resting on the bow caused it to sheer so abruptly that
he was very nearly flung into the eddying water, but with a violent
effort he managed to fling himself at full length into the bottom of
the uneasy craft. As he scrambled up he saw, to his dismay, that the
forward plug was missing, and through the half-inch hole thus left in
the boat’s bottom a stream of water was spirting viciously. Acting
more from instinct than from knowledge he made his way hurriedly to
the after end. Thus his weight sank the stern and at the same time
lifted the bow, so that the volume of water entering the boat was very
considerably diminished. Here he found a wooden bailer, with which he
set vigorously to work.
[Illustration: “HE FOUND A BAILER WITH WHICH HE SET VIGOROUSLY TO WORK”]
After a few minutes of this he bethought himself that some one might
toss him a plug from the schooner, and he hailed the deck at the top
of his voice. Although he shouted until he was hoarse, he received
no answer, nor could he catch a glimpse of a human being on board the
craft behind which he was towing. No one came to look at him over the
rail, and she might have been sailing of her own accord at her own
sweet will for aught that he could see of life or guiding intelligence.
One thing he did discover, however, which was that the rope by which
he was towing had been so lengthened that his boat was now twice the
distance from the schooner it had been when he entered it.