"What in hell were you doing down there?"
"I--I was thinking," I stammered.
"He was thinking," echoed the mate scornfully. "Well, thinking will
never make a sailor of you."
Boisterous laughter.
"After this do your thinking where we can find you when you're wanted."
As I walked aft, the mate went with me pace for pace, poking more fun at
me. To which I dared not answer, as I was impelled, because he was
strong and I was very frail ... and always, when on the verge of danger,
or a physical encounter, the memory of my Uncle Lan's beatings would now
crash into my memory like an earthquake, and render my resolution and
sinews all a-tremble and unstrung.
I was of a mind to tell the captain _who_ was drinking his liquor--but
here again I feared, and cursed myself for fearing.
When the mate told him of where he had found me, at last--what he had
done--what I had said--Schantze laughed....
But, later on, he sympathised with me and unexpectedly remarked:
"Johann, how can you expect a heavy-minded numbskull like Miller to
understand!"
Then, laughing, he seized me by the ear--his usual gesture of fondness
for me--
"Remember me if you ever write a book about this voyage, and don't give
me too black a name! I'm not so bad, am I, eh?"
* * * * *
The Australian coast had lain blue across the horizon for several days.
"Watch me to-morrow!" whispered Franz cryptically to me as he strolled
lazily by....
Next day, around noon, I heard a big rumpus on the main deck, I hurried
up from the cabin.
There lay Franz, sprawled on his back like a huge, lazy dog, and the
mate was shaking his belly with his foot on top of it, just as one plays
with a dog ... but to show he was not playing, he delivered the
prostrate form of the sailor a swift succession of kicks in the ribs....
"You won't work any longer, you say?"
"No."
"I'll kick your guts out."
"Very well."
"Stand on your feet like a man."
"What for? You'll only knock me down again!" and Franz grinned comically
and grotesquely upward, through the gap in his mouth where two of his
teeth had been punched out earlier in the voyage.
It was easy to see that Franz's curious attitude of non-resistance had
the mate puzzled what to do next. All the sailors indulged in furtive
laughter. None of them had a very deep-rooted love for Miller, and, for
the first time, they rather sympathised with the man who had been
shanghaied ... some of them even snickered audibly ... and straightway
grew intent on their work....
Miller turned irritably on them. "And what's the matter with _you_!"...
"Bring him up here!" shouted Captain Schantze.
Four sailors picked Franz up and carried him, unresisting, bumping his
back on the steps as he sagged like a sack half full of flour....
"Here! I've had about enough of this!" cried the captain, furious, "tie
him to the rail again!..."
"Now, we'll leave you there, on bread and water, till you say you'll
work."
"What does it matter what you do," sauced Franz; "we'll be in port in
four days ... and then you'll see what I'll do!"
* * * * *
"What's that?" cried the captain. Then catching an inkling of Franz's
scheme, he hit the man a quick, hard blow in the mouth with his clenched
fist.
"Give him another!" urged the mate.
But the captain's rage was over, though Franz sent him a bold, mocking
laugh, even as the blood trickled down in a tiny red stream from where
his mouth had, been struck.