"THE _OCMULGEE_"
"Where are the rest of the crew?" inquired Jack of the Kanaka who hove
the rope, as he looked round the empty decks.
"All gone dead!" responded the South Sea Islander laconically.
"All dead?" burst out the former with a start.
"All dead!" repeated the Polynesian mournfully. "De coral him splead,
de palm him g'ow big, but man him die all-e-time!"
The speaker was a magnificent specimen of manhood, standing six foot,
with limbs of perfect proportions.
He was dressed in the dungarees of the sailor, with leather sea-boots.
The clothes hung loosely on his emaciated form, and he had the
appearance of a strong man worn out by long hardship and privation.
A gigantic harpoon in his right hand and the hideous tattooed gridiron
on his face gave him a look of ferocity directly at variance with the
expression in his big brown Polynesian eyes, which contained that
wonderful liquid softness shown chiefly in the eyes of deer.
The other Kanaka had resumed his squatting position on the deck in
front of a little ebony image, which he gazed at with a fixed stare.
The _Ocmulgee_ was a regularly old-timer, and her decks were ornamented
with various trophies of the whale-hunt.
The companion entry was made through a part of the huge skeleton lower
jaw of a sperm whale; the wheel, which was inlaid with mother-of-pearl,
had spokes of sea-ivory beautifully carved, each in the shape of a
human arm with closed fist. The fife-rails were likewise decorated and
fashioned, whilst the compass could be seen through the grinning teeth
of a sea-lion, marvellously worked in polished ebony. Even the worn
running gear of this dandy whaler travelled through ivory blocks.
Her bulwark rail was studded like the jawbone of some huge monster with
the long teeth of the cachalot, which did duty as belaying-pins.
Four magnificent whaleboats swung from stout wooden davit legs, whilst
her decks, which were flush fore and aft and stained by much oil to the
deepest mahogany, were singularly spacious.
Amidships were the brick-built tryworks, and forward a small galley, or
what used to be called in the old buccaneering days a caboose.
"Geewhittaker!" ejaculated Broncho, as he cast a look of inspection
round the deck. "What's this we-alls have strayed into? This here
barque seems to me to be a cross between a dime-museum an' one o' them
flash saloons. I recalls a saloon one time, way up in the Spokane,
they calls the 'Golden Dollar.' Say, boys, but she were a beaute, with
a bar-counter a-glitterin' with twenty-dollar gold pieces, let in
betwixt mother-o'-pearl, an' opals big as pigeons' eggs, an' that stuff
scientific sports calls chrysolite."
"Look at that cannibal worshippin' his idol," said Jim in an awestruck
voice. "Ain't he a ferocious-lookin' savage? There's somethin' deuced
uncanny about this queer-lookin' ship, an' I'm beginning to wish I was
back in the life-buoy."
Meanwhile, Jack, who could patter several of the island dialects,
perceiving from his tattooing that the Kanaka was a Marquesan, had
begun to put questions in that language, to the evident pleasure of the
native.
"What does this here tattooed party say?" inquired Broncho. "That lingo
you-alls convarses in is some strange to me, an' onlocated in my realms
o' larnin'."
"These two Kanakas," said Jack in explanation, "come from the Marquesas
Islands, the most noted cannibal group in the South Seas----"
"O-o-o-oh, Lo-o-ord!" began Jim in a scared voice; then, gathering
courage as he saw the quizzing smile in the rover's eyes, "Thank
goodness that, though I'm young, I ain't tender."
"This man's name," continued Jack, "is Tari, and the other, bowing
there before the image, is Lobu. He is a little touched in the head
from a blow of a cutting-in spade----"
"These here two Cimmarons, you-alls says, is man-eaters, an' one of 'em
is locoed," interrupted Broncho solemnly. "Wall, I'm shore thankful a
whole lot they ain't more numerous. Mebbe, though, these two Marquesas
sports have done roasted an' eaten the rest of the outfit--they looks
hungry enough to chaw up a whole bunch of Navajo bucks without battin'
an eye nor yet fallin' victims to indegeestion. I reckon they regyards
humans the same as we-alls do pra'rie hen, ba'r stakes, terrapins, an'
sech-like high-flung eadibles, as bein' plumb full of relish. They
don't look to me as if they'd pass up their hands or quit s'long as
thar's an uneaten cawpse idlin' around; no, siree, they jest sharpens
their carvin' knives an' sits right into business."
"They used to be cannibals; they are not now," went on Jack. "These two
men are harpooners. Tari here knows Big Harry, whose mate I was for
three years trading among the Islands----"
"You don't say!"
"He says the _Ocmulgee_ has been out three years with only three
hundred barrels of oil to her credit. She lost her mate and three men
in a fight with a solitary bull-whale in the Japanese seas; then scurvy
broke out whilst they were away to the south'ard; and, to make matters
worse, they got jammed in the ice the whole winter. When they finally
got clear there were only the captain and five men left. The captain
bore up all he knew to make northing. They had a long spell of foul
weather; then he died, and the other three men and these two have been
alone on the ship for a whole moon, drifting under bare poles."
"Wall, I reckon as how they've been sittin' in pretty dirty luck; but
do you-alls mean to relate as how Destiny allows these here tattooed,
man-chewin' pagans to win through, whilst white men has to go donnin'
wings or tails, harps or hot pitchforks, as the case may be, in the
etarnal beyond? Fortune shore deals a queer game."
"That's about the size of it," said Jack.
"Can this here aboriginal speak English?"
"He can talk Beach-le-mer, a kind of pidgin English of the South Seas."
"Same as that flapjack-tossin' Chink, Lung?"
"Pretty much the same."
"Wall, I surmise he regyards that 'ere hunchbacked, ebony mannikin as
havin' pulled him through this devastatin' holocaust, scurvy, which
downs the rest of the band so free an' easy," remarked the cowboy
musingly.
"What are we goin' to do, Jack?" asked the boy, with chattering teeth.
"Can't we rout out some dry duds? I'm near froze standin' here talkin'."
"That's certainly the first thing to be thought about," agreed the
rolling-stone. "Then, when we've overhauled the ship below, we'll have
a powwow."
Leaving the two Kanakas on deck, they descended the companion-way, and
found themselves in a fair-sized cabin, with doorways opening out of it.
In the centre was an inlaid mother-of-pearl table, and the bulkheads
were hung with curios of every description--spears of all shapes and
sizes, fantastic-looking bone-studded clubs, various harpoons, some
twisted and bent, evidently the relics of by-gone battles, swords of
sharks' teeth, ships' models in bottles, specimens of skrimshander,
rare shells and Japanese nitchkies in cabinets, carved cocoanuts,
feather cloaks and war head-dresses; and last, but not least, some
fearfully-grinning Japanese masks.
Catching sight of these, Jim gave an exclamation of horror.
"Mercy, look at those devil-faces!" he gasped.
"Devil-faces--which that ain't no compliment to the devil, an' I reckon
he's plumb mortified at sech remyarks. Them feachers is that fearful
they're suffeecient to promote silence in a hoot-owl," remarked Broncho
solemnly.
"This cabin is surely the dime-museum you were talking about," said
Jack, with a laugh.
"It's shore liable to give a gent who's been some free with the
nosepaint the jimjams in a highly variegated form. It would knock him
offen his mental reservation quicker'n a bullet out of a Winchester."
After searching through the berths, Broncho and Jack managed to find
clothes which fitted them; but Jim had to close-reef the legs of his
trousers and the ends of his sleeves before he could get his hands and
feet to appear.
Clad once more in dry raiment, they then made a descent upon the
deceased captain's stateroom, and overhauled the log-book.
It was a gloomy perusal.
They found the statements of the Kanaka Tari to be correct, and the log
had been written up to within the last month.
The entries were a series of tragedies. Solemnly Jack read them out,
picking the more important items:
"_Oct. 2nd._--William K. Budd, 1st officer; James Rake, harpooner; John
Coffin and Pedro Gonzalez, able seamen, killed by a whale in Lat. 43°25
North, Long. 136°15 East.
"_Feb. 16th._--Henry Gaul, cooper, died of scurvy.
"_Feb. 23rd._--Simeon Bennett and Henri Rochey, able seamen, died of
scurvy.
"_May 2nd._--Shut in by pack ice in Lat. 69°12 South, Long. 140°63 West.
"_May 15th._--Ezekiel K. Scruggs, 2nd officer, died of scurvy."
So the sad entries ran on until the last, which was entered in a very
shaky hand:
"_Oct. 3rd._--Only six of ship's company left, including myself; all
of us, except two Kanakas, in the last stages of scurvy. Cannot last
many more days. Strong westerly winds with snow squalls increasing in
force. Unable to take sights. Ship hove-to on port tack."
"That's shore a heap melancholy. I surmise he cashes in _poco tiempo_
after them observations--his luck's that mighty rank, not to say
demoniac," was Broncho's comment.
"The first thing we'd better do," said Jack, as he closed the old
sharkskin-bound log-book, "is to examine into the provisions. I expect
they're liable to be pretty bad."
"I'm goin' to hunt up some fishing-lines," announced Jim. "Eating
deep-sea fish is better than living on food which has killed a whole
crew with scurvy."
"Which I think your proposeetion is as full of sense as a rattlesnake
in August is of p'ison," remarked Broncho approvingly.
Then, whilst Jim went after the fishing-lines, Jack and Broncho made
their way into the lazarette, and started to overhaul the stores.
"Just as I thought," muttered the former, holding aloft an old
binnacle-light which he had discovered and promptly brought into use,
and peering round the gloomy interior. "Condemned Government stores,
and the cabin truck run out."
Two or three barrels were standing already broached, with a few pieces
gone out of each, as if an attempt had been made to pick out the best
bits.
"This here pork an' beef is plenty lively for its years," declared
Broncho, his hand to his nose. "I reckon it has over a hundred rings
on its horns; but you can bet your moccasins it goes pawin' 'round
in a man's inside until it has him oozin' with p'ison from his spurs
to his sombrero. I ain't none surprised it makes a winnin' agin them
onfort'nit' whale-huntin' sports."
"And look at the hard-tack," said Jack, as he shook a handful of
weevils out of a biscuit.
"It's shore inhabited a whole lot. I allow them Kanakas has insides
like goats."
"Well, there's no time to be lost. The sight of that grub means
cracking on for the Islands," grunted Jack, as he hurriedly made for
the door.
"Can you locate us at all, Jack?" asked the cowboy, as they once more
breathed freely in the dime-museum cabin. "Ain't thar no blazed trail
we-alls could jump on to, so as to lope into Frisco some quicker'n
we've been comin' out?"
"'Fraid not; Frisco's a long way off, but I don't think we're more than
a week's sail from Pitcairn Island. This breeze'll let her head up
within a point of north. I'll get the latitude if I can catch the sun
to-morrow, but I'm afraid the longitude will be mere guess-work, as the
chronometers have both been allowed to run down."
"Wall, you play the hand, Jack; you're up in this ship's game. I just
come in blind an' leave it to you, bein' what you-alls might call an
amature."
"We'll just have a powwow with the Kanakas and then get to work," said
Jack, as they left the cabin.
On gaining the deck they found the elements still moderating.
The _Ocmulgee_ floated high out of the water as buoyant as a cork, and
her deck, except where the rollers slopped through the bulwark ports,
or an occasional saucy-crested comber popped over her topgallant rail,
was quite free of water.
At the stern was perched Jim, busily watching three fishing-lines,
whilst amidships Lobu still sat gazing at his ebony _tiki_.
From the caboose came a thin wreath of smoke, which blew down to
leeward in a long streamer. Tari was within, doing all he knew to make
a fat lump of rancid pork more or less eatable.
Jack gave a long look round the heaving horizon, but no sail broke the
monotony of rushing sea and sky. He then went and sounded the pumps,
and was well satisfied.
"An hour's work will pump her dry," he remarked to the cowpuncher.
"We'll get sail on her first, though."
Then, "All hands make sail!" he sang out cheerily, dropping naturally
into the position of leader.
"Jim, you're an active nipper and quicker than the rest of us; jump up
an' cast the gaskets off the main-topsails."
"Aye, aye, sir," returned the boy, with a twinkle in his eye and an
emphasis on the "sir."
But Jack never noticed it. He was too busily employed trying to make
Lobu understand that he had to get off his haunches and add his weight
and muscle as they mustered at the lower-topsail sheets.
"Warble out one o' them chanties o' yours, Jack," called the cowboy.
"They helps a man to brace back on a rope a whole lot."
Thereupon Jack struck up an old sea legend about a drowned sailor, who
married a mermaid and had an unpleasant habit of climbing up ships'
cables and frightening their crews.
Taking the upper-topsail halliards to a small capstan aft, they tramped
round strongly to the weird sailor song, in the wild chorus of which
even Tari joined:
"And it's blow, ye winds, heigh-ho!
Blow, ye winds, heigh-ho!
Blow away the mist and snow!
And it's blow, ye winds, heigh-ho!"
Before dark the _Ocmulgee_ was plunging heavily along under two
lower-topsails, main upper-topsail, reefed foresail and staysails,
close hauled on the port tack.
The spanker was also set, without the head being hauled out.
By this time all hands were pretty well wearied, besides being very
keen set, and some of Tari's cooking was demolished with many grimaces.
Then, leaving Jim at the wheel, they turned to again to rid the ship
of water, and it was close on two bells in the first watch before the
cheerful sound of the pumps sucking greeted their ears.
Leaving Lobu to resume his religious duties before the ebony image, the
rest of the small ship's company assembled round the wheel, and held a
counsel of ways and means.
"Wall, Jack," said Broncho, opening the debate, "you-alls bein' the old
he-coon of this outfit, we awaits your remyarks as to what trail you
allows we'd better pull our freight on to. We-alls wants to be posted
as to how the kyards are stackin' up, an' how we're to play our hands
to emerge victors out o' this here onexpected racket."
"I reckon we ought to be somewhere near Pitcairn or the Paumotus in
less than ten days," replied the rover easily.
"At Pitcairn we can get fresh fruit and vegetables. From there we can
jog across to Papeete, the port of Tahiti, hand the _Ocmulgee_ over to
the American consul, and take schooner for Frisco."
"The way you puts it, this here bill o' fare seems some easy to chew
on," commented the cowpuncher, looking keenly at Jack. "Mebbe, though,
it ain't sech a cinch as I surmises. Ain't we-alls some scarce as an
outfit to keep this here ship from stampedin' 'way offen the trail? Do
you-alls reckon we is numerous enough to ride herd on her."
"Well," returned Jack slowly, "we are rather short-handed, and that's
a fact. Still [with a smile], we're enough to keep the ship from
milling.[10] Tari and Jim can both steer; and you, Broncho, must have
your first lesson as soon as possible. We three will have to take watch
and watch, as I don't like to trust the ship to the Kanakas."
"And who'll ride first night gyard?" asked Broncho.
"You two both look pretty fagged out. Suppose you jump below and turn
in; Tari and I will keep the middle watch."
"I ain't tired--I'm as frisky as can be," objected Jim. "I might as
well take the first trick now I'm at the wheel."
"And I'm as full of buck as a corn-fed cow-pony," put in Broncho.
"You're lookin' some weary an' overplayed yourself, Jack; just you
prowl down in your blankets whilst Jim and I deal the game."
"I think we'd better elect a captain first," said the rover casually,
"or it'll be a case of too many cooks."
"Bein' as you savvys the game, Jack, I concloods you-alls is elected
onanimous; thar shore ain't no candidate for the opposition. You're the
range-boss o' this round-up."
"Why, 'er course," affirmed Jim.
"Well, then, you two obey orders and turn in until further notice,"
returned Jack, with a laugh.
"You guileful ole terrapin!" growled Broncho, as he reluctantly made
for the companion-way, followed by the boy.
FOOTNOTES:
[10] Going round in a circle, as cattle sometimes do when frightened or
restless.