"Day after day, day after day
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean!"
Had it not been for the two darkeys, Jake and Cuffee, I don't know what
we should have done for fun.
These comical fellows were a constant source of amusement to us; for,
although they did not come to fisticuffs again, they were always
quarrelling and making friends afterwards in the oddest way possible.
Their disputes usually arose from some little trifle concerning their
order of precedence, each being highly jealous of his dignity, and
resenting in a moment any fancied slight or want of proper respect on
the part of the other.
When Jake came on board in the summary way in which he "took his
passage" at the beginning of our voyage, of course he had no wardrobe,
or anything to wear save what he stood up in when he emerged dripping
from the sea after the capsize of the boat in which he had come off to
the ship. Captain Miles, however, had given him some cast-off slops,
and the hands forward had also rigged him out from their chests, so that
in a short time he made a very presentable appearance. This was
especially the case on Sunday's, when his dress was most conspicuous,
Master Jake being something of a dandy like most negroes, and anxious to
take the shine out of his fellows.
Somehow or other Cuffee the cook got jealous of this feature in his
brother darkey's character.
On week-days he did not mind submitting to any slight superiority Jake
might have over him in his sailor-like rig; but one Sunday the latter
donned an old blue coat that had been presented to him by Mr Marline.
It was ornamented with brilliant brass buttons, and the effect was
completed by a bright bandana handkerchief which he had begged from me,
and this, contrasting with a white shirt and duck trousers, made his
toilet so thoroughly effective that Cuffee was greatly aggrieved.
"You tink youself one fine gen'leman now, I s'pose?" he said, with a
snort of indignation, when Jake went down into the waist in all this
grand array after prayers on the poop. "Fine fedders make fine birds,
yah, yah!"
"Me tinks what I like," replied Jake nonchalantly, proceeding forward to
the topgallant forecastle, where he sat down in such a lordly manner
that Cuffee, unable to stand it any longer, hurriedly went into his
caboose and bringing out a bucket of dirty water pitched it over Jake
with much heartiness, sousing him from head to foot.
"Dere, you big fool of niggah, take dat!" he cried triumphantly. "Guess
dat'll take de shine out ob your ole coat, wid yer grandy airs an'
bumptiousness!"
The men on the fo'c's'le shouted with laughter, and Jake rushed to
resent the affront; but they held him back until his temper evaporated,
and then the two made it up somehow, for afterwards I saw that Jake was
enjoying a savoury mess of lobscouse which Cuffee had cooked for him in
amends for the bucket of greasy water.
Jake, however, paid out the cook for the indignity a little later on;
for, when Cuffee came up on the forecastle while the hands were there
yarning in the evening, he gave him the cold shoulder.
"Wat for you come hyar?" he asked the poor cook. "Dis is de place for
sailor man, not for de idlers aboard. You go back inter yer ole
caboose, cookee!"
There was another laugh at this, and Captain Miles hearing what had been
said, every word being distinctly audible on the poop, began speaking to
Mr Marline about the imitative habits of negroes.
"They are just like monkeys," he said; "and, in dress and in language
will copy anyone they think superior to them, no matter how ridiculous
their imitation may be--a sort of burlesque of the original."
"Yes," replied Mr Marline. "Jake, I have noticed, has taken Jackson
for his model on week-days. Have you observed how he copies him in
every particular?"
"Well, he couldn't have a better study for a thorough sailor," said the
captain, adding, to my great delight, for I was very proud of poor Jake,
who was faithful to me to the death; "and the darkey, mind you, Marline,
has studied Jackson to good effect, for he's already a smart seaman.
He's as quick aloft as anyone on board when any sudden call comes."
"He's all that," answered Mr Marline heartily; "but I was going to
observe, that, while Jake copies Jackson for his week-day model, he
tries to imitate you on Sundays."
"Me!" exclaimed Captain Miles bursting into a loud laugh. "You, you
mean, with that swell blue coat that you gave him, and which you used,
no doubt, to win all the ladies' hearts with ashore, when it was in its
prime!"
"Oh, no," retorted the mate, smiling too. "When Jake has got his Sunday
rig on, he walks up the poop-ladder to prayers with all your dignity.
Why, anyone would take him to be the skipper of the ship!"
"Talking of prayers and niggers," said Captain Miles at this point,
turning the conversation, as he thought the mate was having a sly poke
at him, "I heard one day a little time back a rather good yarn about two
darkeys, and, as it was told by a clergyman at a missionary meeting, I
don't suppose there can be any great harm in the story."
"Well, heave ahead with it," interposed Mr Marline.
"You see," began the captain, "these two niggers--we'll call them Josh
and Quashee for shortness--happened to be in a boat which got drifted
out to sea accidentally, from the tow-rope slipping or something else;
and, they didn't know their danger till suddenly they found themselves
far from land, with no oars in the boat and no means of getting to shore
again. To make matters worse, too, the sea began to get up on account
of the wind rising."
"I wish it would do so now," said Mr Marline with much emphasis.
"So do I," returned Captain Miles with equal heartiness; "but, as there
isn't any chance of that as far as I can see, I may as well go on with
my story."
"Do, sir," said the other.
"Well, then," continued the captain, "as soon as Josh and Quashee
realised their peril, of course they got into a great funk; but, after
puzzling their brains as to the best means of getting back, and shouting
themselves hoarse in calling for help, they gave up the thing as a gone
case, sitting down on the thwarts and bewailing their fate. Josh, the
younger negro, however, had the most go in him, and presently he roused
up.
"`Say, Quashee,' he asked of the other, `can you pray, sonny?'
"`No, Josh,' replied Quashee gloomily. `I nebber learnt, nohow.'
"`Can you sing hymn, den?' questioned his brother in misfortune again.
"`No, Josh,' answered the other still more gloomily. `Um can't pray,
can't sing hymn, can't do nuffin'!'
"`Den,' said Josh as if a brilliant idea had suddenly struck him, `we
must hab collection--must do sumfin' to git out ob dis hole, an' I know
when dey don't pray or sing in de chapel dey always hab collection; so
we'll hab one now!'"
"I wouldn't mind betting," observed Mr Marline, when he had done
laughing at this anecdote, "that the clergyman who related the story did
it as a sort of introduction for `passing round the hat' at the very
meeting where you heard it!"
"That's just precisely what he did!" replied Captain Miles, joining in
the other's laugh; "and, it was a very good introduction to a
collection, too, I think!"
It was on a Sunday evening that the little fracas between Jake and
Cuffee occurred. This squabble terminated amicably enough; but the next
day, Monday, a bit of a real row happened on board, which did not end
quite so agreeably to one of the persons concerned.
It was a blazing hot day, with the sun like a ball of fire in the
heavens above and the sea steaming below with the heat. The atmosphere
was close and hazy, making it so stifling that one could hardly breathe
freely--just exactly the sort of weather, in fact, that is met with on
the West Coast of Africa at the mouths of some of those pestilential and
swampy rivers there that have been the death of so many gallant officers
and seamen annually sent to the station for the purpose of putting down
the slave-trade and protecting greedy traders in their pursuit of palm-
oil and gold dust!
During the afternoon of this day, when the sun was about its hottest,
making the pitch melt and ooze out from the seams of the deck planking,
Davis, who had charge of the starboard watch, came up from below to
relieve Mr Marline.
He was late in coming to his post, and I could see he had been drinking,
a habit he had lately taken to indulging in, especially after the calm
set in; and, as he mounted the poop-ladder, he certainly did not look
particularly amiable, for his dark eyes were glaring and his tumbled
hair gave him a most ferocious appearance.
The men were mostly doing nothing, lying along the waist under what
shelter they could find from the fiery rays of the scorching sun; for,
although there was an awning over the poop, there was nothing forwards
to shield them from the heat unless they crouched under the lee of the
bulwarks and water-casks.
Davis didn't like to see them taking it easy in this fashion, so,
catching hold of a marlinespike which someone had left on top of the
cabin skylight, he began rapping the rail at the break of the poop with
it.
"Come, rouse up there, you lubbers!" he cried. "I'm not going to allow
any caulking in my watch, no matter what the first mate chooses to let
you do. Tumble up!"
The men stretched themselves and rose up grumbling, whereupon Davis
pitched upon Jackson, who had been asleep under the long-boat and was
the last to show a leg, not hearing the second mate's call until a
messmate awoke him.
"Hi, you, Jackson!" he roared out. "I'll give you something to cure
your laziness! I'll haze you, I will, you hound! Get a bucket of
grease from the cook's caboose and slush the mainmast down."
"I'm no hound, sir!" retorted Jackson angrily, drawing himself up to his
full height and flaring up angrily at Davis' uncalled-for abuse. "The
mast doesn't need slushing; it was only done over the day before
yesterday."
"What, you dare to answer me, you mutinous dog!" roared out Davis,
raised to a pitch of fury by the seaman not recognising, as he thought,
his authority as second mate and officer of the watch. "I tell you
what, you shall slush that mast down from the main-truck to the bitts;
and look sharp about it, too, or I'll make you!"
"Make me!" repeated Jackson scornfully. "I'd like to see you lay a
finger on me!"
Davis fairly foamed at the mouth with passion at this, the more
particularly as the other men, grouped below in the waist, were
sniggering and passing sly jokes from one to another about the affair.
He started to go down the poop-ladder, brandishing the marlinespike
savagely, with the evident intention of attacking Jackson and trying to
compel him to obey his orders, utterly unnecessary and vindictive as
they were; but, what from having been drinking heavily of late and the
fresh air and exposure to the sun having increased the intoxicating
effect of the rum which he doubtless had just swallowed before coming on
deck to take charge of the watch, he reeled off the ladder as soon as he
got to the bottom--falling down all of a heap right in front of the
cabin door at the very moment that Captain Miles, who had been roused up
by the altercation, was coming out to see what all the noise was about.
"Mr Davis!" cried the captain sternly. "What is the matter?"
The second mate scrambled to his feet, but he could not hold himself
steady and he only muttered some utterly incomprehensible words, his
power of speech vanishing with his equilibrium.
"I dunno, canshay," he murmured helplessly.
"Faugh!" exclaimed Captain Miles in accents of the deepest disgust.
"The man is dead drunk. Take him away at once to the fo'c's'le some of
you. He doesn't come into my cabin again if I know it!"