After the Count's departure Paul joined a submarine company in New York
and pursued the occupation of diver for over six months. He was
wonderfully successful and when he resigned he had the largest salary of
any diver in their employ. The cause of his resignation was the
reports he had had heard about the diamond fields in South Africa. He
determined to cast his fortune with the diamond hunters that were going
from different parts of the world to the promised "Eldorado,"
Having secured a supply of implements and stores that he considered
necessary, he took passage on the tall rigged ship Albatross, commanded
by a friend of his. The Albatross was bound for China by way of Cape
Town, and the captain promised to land him there. They had a long,
pleasant voyage, during which Paul spent his time shooting at sharks
over the side and trolling for fish. One day in the vicinity of the
equator his hook was snapped by a dolphin, which he succeeded in
bringing to the deck. It was laid on the shady-side of the galley and
the sailors watched with great, curiosity the innumerable tints which
radiated from its body. This transition in color was considered by
the on-lookers as a visible evidence of the pain which it suffered.
Picking up an ax Paul quickly dispatched it. In passing the equator the
usual tom-foolery of receiving Neptune and baptizing those who had
never crossed the line before, was enjoyed with one slight exception.
The imitation of the god Neptune when coming out of the fore chains
over the bow, missed his footing and fell into the sea. Fortunately for
him the ship was becalmed at the time. With the aid of a line and a boat
hook which one of his mates fastened firmly to his collar, he was drawn
aboard. His appearance was certainly far from god-like. Paul often
enjoyed the conversation of sun old sailor named Joe Clark. He was a
misanthropist at the unjust inequality that existed in the conditions
of life, and often sung a verse of his own composition which gave him
intense satisfaction, as he chanted it while sewing sails or making
sennet. It consisted of a few lines, the import of which was, that no
matter how rich or gorgeous the outer apparel might be, all alike have
to eat, drink and die. He was a typical tar and proved a source of
continual amusement to Paul. He had sailed a long time with the
captain of the Albatross on different ships, and the captain told Paul
that he never made a voyage but that he did not express his
determination that it would be the last one; and no matter what
occupation he could get ashore, either street cleaning or farming
he would take it in preference to going to sea again. After three days
of shore life old Joe was tired of it and always headed for some outward
bound ship. Once when Paul and Joe were leaning over the bulwarks and
gazing out on the glass-like surface of the equatorial waters in which
they were then sailing, old Joe reflectively exclaimed:
"Mister Boyton, I wish I had a hundred thousand dollars. You may be sure
that I would never make another voyage and it would save me from the
fate of many an old shell-back that is dying around now."
Joe's firm belief was that every old sailor who died, turned into a sea-
gull. Prompted by curiosity, Paul said: "Now, Joe, what is the first
thing you would purchase supposing you had one hundred thousand
dollars?"
"A quart of good Scotch whisky," promptly exclaimed Joe with a string of
oaths to confirm his assertion, and he smacked his lips in
satisfaction as though already enjoying it.
About two months after leaving New York, Table Rock was sighted and the
same day anchor was let go off Cape Town. During this long voyage Paul
improved the opportunity in studying and getting more practical ideas of
navigation. By the time they cast anchor at Cape Town the captain
assured him that he was as competent as himself and begged him to keep
on with him to China as the man holding the position of first mate was
very unskillful and he wished to get rid of him. Paul, however, had the
diamond fever and no amount of persuasion could change his mind. He
landed and secured quarters in Cape Town. With his usual happy-go-lucky
disposition he had never inquired before leaving New York in regard to
the location of the diamond fields, and he presumed that they were
situated thirty or forty miles from the Cape. In Cape Town he
became acquainted with an officer of the steamer Cambrian, named John
Lord, who also had the diamond fever and intended going to the fields.
Their pursuits being similar they naturally drifted into
acquaintanceship. After a little conversation, Paul asked him how he was
going up.
"Well," responded Lord, "I would go upon the regular wagon but my
finances will not permit me. It costs twelve pounds and one is only
allowed twenty pounds baggage."
"Twelve pounds? Sixty dollars? Why, good Heavens, how far is it? I was
thinking about walking up."
"A little over seven hundred miles," was Lord's reply. Paul nearly fell
over in his astonishment but said: "We are here and will get up no
matter how far it is!"
On comparing notes they found that they could not afford to take the
regular wagon that generally consumed twelve days in reaching the
fields. They were told about another town named Port Elizabeth by going
to which they could save three hundred miles of overland travel. Owing
to the enormous fares charged in those times, they found it would be
cheaper to go from Cape Town direct by ox trains. It took one of these
trains from fifty to sixty days to get up and was anything but a
comfortable trip. While waiting in Cape Town very much perplexed as to
how they would get up, Paul made the acquaintance of an agent of Cobb &
Co., who were engaged in the transportation business from the coast to
the diggings. After some conversation, Paul was engaged to go as
assistant superintendent of a heavy train which was about to start.
On their long and tedious trip, the average time was about fifteen
miles a day, when the order for outspanning would be given. This order
meant to unhitch, dismount and camp for the night. As there were very
few restaurants or hotels on the way, a large quantity of provisions was
carried and like an army the train was made up in messes and did their
own cooking. The Hottentot drivers and assistants made one mess, the
passengers another, while those in command formed a third. Lord was
also fortunate in getting transportation with the same train. This
opening was looked upon as a Godsend as they not only got up themselves
with their tools but had their provisions free. The train consisted
of fifteen immensely long covered wagons of the stoutest build. Each
wagon had between seven and nine thousand pounds made up mostly of
provisions and for which the moderate price of nine dollars per
hundred pounds was made for transportation. To each wagon was hitched a
long line of oxen, harnessed to a strong chain. The Hottentot drivers
were artists in handling their terribly long whips. Besides the oxen and
fifteen wagons, was a mule team with the officers in charge. Three
days after leaving Cape Town, the train drove into Wellington, fifty
miles north. Soon after they entered the mountain, Bain's Kloof. They
had great difficulty passing over this road through the mountains.
Frequently they were obliged to double the ox teams on a single wagon
in order to climb some steep ascent. The scenery through the mountains
was exceedingly wild and picturesque, and the Hottentot driver with whom
Paul was conversing, assured him that far away in the mountain tops were
leopards and fierce baboons. The mountains being passed after a hard
day's travel they entered the little village of Ceres where they
outspanned for the night. From Ceres they passed on over a level plain
occasionally passing a kail or cottage. At some places on the road the
natives sold them hot coffee and cakes. The country over which they
traveled was thinly populated. Occasionally a tramping adventurer or two
would come with the wagons, all heading in the same direction. About
ten days later the train entered Caroo Port, a vast desert, horribly
desolate and forbidding. It was dead level and lay like a sea asleep.
The heat was overpowering. Before entering the desert, a large supply of
water was laid in and the order of travel was changed so that they ran
at night instead of in the day time. This wilderness is about sixty
miles wide and it took them five days to cross it. Whenever a wind rose
on this desert the mouth, eyes, ears and nose were filled with dust,
making life miserable. At Durands, a solitary farmhouse stood like an
oasis. They got a fresh supply of water there. After leaving the Caroo
they entered a desert called Kope. In crossing this waste, they
stumbled on many and many a skeleton of poor fellows, who had no doubt
succumbed on account of the heat and lack of water. The crossing of
these two deserts cost them many oxen. These were replaced at Beaufort
by a relay that was in reserve for such an emergency. After leaving
Beaufort they struck into a thickly wooded country that was a relief.
Sometimes during the day, while the train was slowly wending its way
onward, the superintendent and Paul would ride ahead for a hunt. They
got some antelope and a large number of partridges. Paul was much
surprised to find that game was much scarcer than he had been lead to
believe by reading about South Africa.
They now entered a country where there were many ostrich farms, a
business which was very remunerative. Ostrich chickens cost from twenty-
five to fifty dollars apiece. In three years they will furnish plumage
worth from twenty-five to thirty dollars each year. A Hottentot told
Paul that many of the ostriches that then stood around in sight had been
hatched by fat old Hottentot women who took two or three eggs away from
the hens and lay with them in feather bed until they were hatched. The
truthfulness of this story, Paul never verified.
After passing Victoria they wended their way slowly through great plains
covered with a stumpy herbage. Here they saw large numbers of
secretary birds and bustards and maramots and springbok antelope.
Several of the latter were shot and added greatly to the comfort of the
mess. Every few days they met the up or down carts, going or coming from
the diamond regions. These would sometimes stop and give the news of
above or below. It did not take much penetration to know the successful
from the disappointed, coming from the mines as they got out of the
train to stretch themselves. Forty days after leaving the Cape, they
outspanned on the banks of the Orange river, into which Paul, without
any ceremony, plunged with eagerness and enjoyed his first swim in
Africa. Here they had to ferry and a slow and tedious occupation it
was. About a week later they entered Pneil to which place the freight
was consigned. The village was a small one, more like a camp. Down a
steep ravine tents were pitched on every available spot, where a level
surface afforded a floor. They were raised without regard to symmetry or
order. Paul and his friend Lord looked around the camp and secured
lodging with an old Californian who agreed to board them during their
stay for ten shillings a day. At the same time he assured them that he
did not intend to remain long there as the diggings were nearly played
out and he was going to shift the following week to Dutoitspan. After
prospecting for several days and finding that they could not get a claim
unless it was for an exorbitant price, they decided to adopt the
Californian's idea and start over for the "dry diggings" at Dutoitspan.
On arriving there they met a sorter who assured them that he was fully
posted in regard to claims, the value of the stones found and everything
else and agreed to enter partnership providing they purchased the
outfit. After some hesitation and examination, they agreed to this.
They bought a sieve, sorting table, and tent with cooking apparatus,
etc., and started for a claim. They were fortunate in getting one about
thirty feet square. There they erected their tent, under the
supervision of the sorter who unceremoniously made himself head of the
camp and who did more talking than work. Then they began the digging
of the trench around their claim. Their sorting table was set up and
they went to work with a will that was backed with enthusiasm and hope.
The result of their digging was turned into the sieve, which was
suspended by a rope from a cross bar, with handles on one side. The
digger would swing it backwards and forwards until all the loose
fragments of earth were broken off and nothing remained but the small
stones like line gravel. These were then carried over and dumped on the
sorter's table, who examined them carefully and placed anything
promising to one side. But for three weeks nothing of any value was
found. The small specimens that were obtained were disposed of to the
dealers who daily visited every camp and digging. The amount derived
from their sales barely kept the diggers in provisions. About this
time Lord fell ill of dysentery, which was prevalent in all the camps in
this vicinity, and Paul had to do double work to give the gentlemanly
sorter, who refused to do any digging, occupation. Being tired and worn
with the two-fold labor, Paul was tempted many times to abandon the
claim and take a rest, and was prevented only by the fear that jumpers
would take advantage of the work already done. The unwritten law at that
time was that if a miner ceased working his claim for a certain length
of time it could be "jumped" by others. About this time Paul also began
to suspect the honesty of the sorter and kept a close eye on him. These
suspicions he communicated to Lord, then recovering and found that Lord
entertained the same ideas. So one evening after a hard day's work they
grabbed the sorter and held an inquest on his pockets after calmly
seating themselves on his head and knees. Their suspicions were verified
by discovering stones on him that were valued the next day at one
hundred and ten pounds. The frightened sorter willingly surrendered all
they found, and confessed under the pressure of a revolver that he had
been systematically robbing them for some time. Though pleased that they
had discovered so much, Paul and his friend were both discouraged and
disgusted with the diggings and they agreed that the first good strike
they made they would leave it. After that they acted as their own
sorters but with indifferent success. A couple of weeks later, Lord who
had been out to purchase provisions returned with a speculator who was
willing to purchase the claim. A long talk followed. At last they
disposed of it to him with all their outfit for the sum of fifty pounds
which left them not much richer than when they had started for the
diamond fields. A short time after that they were in Cape Town once
more, smelling the fresh, salt air. Here Lord obtained a position on one
of the Union Co.'s line of steamers, while Paul remained in the hope of
finding some ship going to China or Japan. Paul remained in Cape Town
three weeks; but no chance opened to go to the eastward. He embarked
on a French vessel that came in shorthanded, bound for Marseilles. He
went before the mast as there as no other position on her and he had had
enough of South Africa.
After a quick passage along the west coast of Africa they reached the
straits of Gibraltar and stood across the blue Mediterranean to
Marseilles. While there, assisting to discharge a cargo, Paul fell
through a hatch and was badly wounded on the leg by coming in contact
with the ragged edge of a roll of copper. At first he did not think he
was much injured but as his leg kept on swelling, the captain
strongly advised him to go to the marine hospital and conveyed him there
in a cab. The ward in which Paul was placed contained about one
hundred and fifty little iron beds filled with unfortunates like
himself. The hospital authorities ran the institution on the principle
that the less they gave the patient to eat, the sooner he would recover
and get out. Breakfast consisted of a slice of bread and a little cup of
very weak wine; dinner of some very feeble soup, bread and the same
kind of wine. The supper was a repetition of the breakfast. After a
couple of day's sojourn in the hospital, Paul was ravenous with hunger
and would have willingly left if he had been able to do so. In vain he
assured the good sister in his best French that it was his leg and not
his stomach that was ill. In response she would smile sadly as she
placed the meager allowance on the little stand at the head of the
bed.
Paul was in bed number eleven. Number twelve was occupied by a
Frenchman, who was fast dying, and number thirteen by an English sailor
with a leg and arm broken. The Frenchman was so far gone that his
appetite had failed so that he could neither eat nor drink.
Notwithstanding this, his rations were always left on his stand at the
head of his bed. The invalid and his provisions were watched by the
English sailor and Paul with deep interest. Two or three times by the
aid of his good leg Paul succeeded in confiscating the major portion,
before the sailor could reach his unbroken arm out. One day after a
consultation, the doctor shook his head slowly and told the sister that
number twelve would not much longer remain a charge in her hands.
This news was gladly listened to by Paul and the sailor. His dinner was
placed as usual at the head of the bed but the Frenchman paid no
attention to it. His labored breathings showed plainly to the watchers
that the end was near. A few convulsive heavings followed, then
the English sailor remarked: "I think he has slipped his cable." Paul
got quietly out of bed to ascertain the truthfulness of the sailor's
remark and made a grab for the soup and bread at the same time the sun-
bronzed arm of the sailor reached out for the wine. Soon afterwards
the nurse discovered that the patient had passed away and his body was
carried to the dead house.
A couple of weeks later Paul was discharged from the hospital thoroughly
cured, and eager to embark in anything that promised adventure. He was
anxious if possible to secure some ship bound for America, and for this
purpose haunted the docks and watched every new arrival closely. While
sauntering around one morning he was accosted by a rough looking man who
inquired if he was a sailor and wished to ship, Paul answered yes but
that he wanted to ship on a vessel bound for the United States. "Well,"
said the stranger, "I am the captain of the bark Pilgrim and am bound
for Valparaiso, why not that trip?"
Paul absolutely refused to go around the Horn. The captain then told him
that they intended to start that night; but on the way out would stop
at Malaga where he could land, and by going to Gibraltar get a ship much
easier. He promised to pay him well for the run, so Paul consented to
go. The Pilgrim was then laying in the offing and when Paul went to the
landing to take the small boat to go to her, he found two other sailors
belonging to her, who were going to Malaga on the run, the same as
himself. One of them confidentially informed Paul that she was a
floating hell and that he might expect lively times on the run down.
Paul responded that he could stand it if the rest could. The row boat
containing the sailors ran along side and the line was passed down. One
of the sailors jumped lightly into the chains and took hold of his
mate's bag. He tossed it on the deck without looking where it was
going. His own was then passed up to him which he mounted the rail and
jumped on deck. He had no sooner reached it than he was struck a
powerful blow on the face and knocked on his back. His companion jumped
on deck and found his comrade lying bleeding and half stunned. Over
him, as if about to kick him, was the form of a powerful looking man who
proved to be the first mate.
"What's the matter," exclaimed the sailor last landed. "What's this?"
"Perhaps you would like the same kind of a dose my hearty," exclaimed
the mate as he came towards him with clenched fists.
"Well, no," was the response, "I don't intend to take any, but I will
give you one that will teach you not to bill sailors in open port," and
he drew his sheath knife and made a lunge that would certainly have
disemboweled the first mate had he not quickly dodged the thrust
and retreated to the cabin.
While the sailor who had drawn the knife was bending over his wounded
comrade, the captain appeared, and exclaimed:
"This kind of work won't do! What's the meaning of this row?"
The sailor who had been struck explained to the captain how he had
accidentally hit the mate while throwing his bag aboard, and that
his partner had only come to his assistance when he thought he had been
killed.
"Go forward, boys, go forward," the captain said. "I'll see that no more
of this occurs."
This scene had been witnessed by Paul as he sat quietly on the rail.
When the men went forward he stepped down and approached the
captain, saying:
"Captain, I have been informed that your ship is a pretty wild one and
by what I have seen I think she bears out her reputation all right. Now
I consider myself fully competent to do my duty and will do it; but I
want to give you fair warning that if I am molested by either of your
bully mates, as I presume you have two of them, I will take good care of
myself. The days when an officer can treat sailors with impunity are a
thing of the past."
To which the captain responded: "You'll be all right, go away forward
and stow your things."
When Paul entered the forecastle he found that the crew consisted of
nine men seated on their sea chests and bunks, holding a council of
war. They all agreed that it was a pretty bad ship and they determined
to stand by one another. The council was broken up by a gruff voice:
"Come my hearties. Turn to with a will. Get your hand spikes and man the
windlass."
All hands sprang out and quickly the clanking of the windlass chain was
heard coming in. "Look over the head, young fellow," said the mate to
Paul, "and see how she is." Paul complied and reported, "straight up and
down." Soon after a tug came alongside, the line was passed over to
her, the anchor catted and the Pilgrim stood away on her voyage. All
hands were sent aloft to shake out sail and everything was ready to
sheet home when the tug slacked up and cast off the cable. As the tug
came around and returned to port she passed close alongside and the
captain saluted the commander of the Pilgrim who was then showering
oaths on the quarter deck and said sarcastically:
"My brave and gentle captain, the Lord have mercy on the unfortunate
sea-infants who have trusted themselves in your hands."
Paul, who stood near by, overheard the tug captain's farewell and it
convinced him that the Pilgrim's commander bore an unsavory
reputation with sea-faring men. Every sail being set and lines coiled
the decks were washed down. The crew, except Paul, who was at the wheel,
were called up and ranged in a line along the deck. The two mates then
advanced and tossed up a coin for first choice. The first mate won and
said, "I'll take the man at the wheel." The second mate's choice then
fell to a sailor at the right end of the line. Then they selected men
alternately until they were divided into two equal parts. The first
mate's watch being known as the starboard and the second mate's as the
port watch. One watch was then ordered below while the other remained
on deck. Soon after Paul was relieved from the wheel by another
seaman and walking forward met the sailor who had been knocked down by
the first mate as he came aboard. This man called him aside: "Did you
notice that the first mate selected myself and mate in his watch? He
evidently intends to do my friend some mischief for the slash he made at
him."
He also informed Paul that he had a strong suspicion, which was shared
by his mate that it was the captain's intention to take them all out to
Valparaiso and not allow any to land at Malaga. This suspicion was
confirmed next day in Paul's mind by the captain who sent for him to
come aft. When he entered the cabin the captain said: "Young fellow, I
like your appearance and wish you would change your mind and come on out
with me to Valparaiso, I carry no boatswain, but I will give you that
position and a pound a month extra, providing you can induce those two
shell-backs who came aboard with you to do the same."
To gain time, Paul answered that he would speak to them and report in
the evening. It was at that moment the farthest thought from his mind.
After a consultation with his shipmates, both of whom assured him they
would never consent, it was agreed that they should feign willingness to
go. They knew that the captain had the power to hold them in the offing
and prevent their landing so they determined to escape at the first
opportunity at Malaga. The captain was so delighted with Paul's report
that he insisted on his having a glass of grog, and was in such good
humor that he went on deck and amused himself by smashing the nose of an
unfortunate Norwegian, who was then at the wheel. This was a favorite
pastime of both captain and mate's, but it was generally practiced on
those whom they knew would never resist their cruelty. The Pilgrim was
a brute to steer and a very slow ship, notwithstanding they had a fair
wind it took them ten days to reach Malaga, where they anchored well
off the shore. She then commenced to receive the balance of her cargo of
wine by means of lighters. The crew were closely watched during the
day. At night the oars were removed from the gig, swinging at the stern
and as an extra precaution a heavy chain and padlock were passed around
it. For three days the lighter came alongside but no chance presented
itself to Paul and his companions to get ashore. Seeing that the cargo
was about completed and that it would only take a few more lighters to
fill her, Paul determined to leave that night. A large plank that acted
as fender was stretched along the side. This he concluded to use for the
purpose of getting his companions and bags ashore. He advised them
to have everything stowed away in as small a space as possible and to
have as large a supply of sea-biscuit and salt meat as they could
secure. It was Paul's anchor watch that night, from one to two. When he
came on deck he found it a clear, brilliant star-light night and the sea
as smooth as a cup of milk. After walking around for about a quarter of
an hour he stepped softly in the direction of the after cabin and
listened intently. He was satisfied that all aft were sound asleep.
Coming forward to the forecastle he found the two sailors all ready to
join him. Their clothing and provisions were firmly lashed up in pieces
of tarpaulin. The three silently and cautiously crept to the side; a
sharp knife severed the rope that held up one end of the fender and the
other was lowered quietly until the plank was afloat on the surface. A
couple of turns were taken in the rope that held it over a belaying
pin, and Paul said:
"Now is the time, one of you slip down the rope and deposit the bags on
the planks. Then get in the water and rest your hands on the side." The
water was very phosphorescent and the fish left trails of light after
them as they dashed hither and thither below. Just as one of the sailors
was about to step over and descend, either a porpoise or some large fish
shot from under the vessel and left quite a trail of light in its
wake. The sailor hesitated: "That must be a shark," he said, "if we get
in that water we are bound to be eaten up."
Time pressed and Paul remonstrated with him in vain to get down. Any
moment either the captain or the mate might wake up and discover them.
To show an example that there was no danger Paul grasped the rope and
slipped silently into the sea. He was followed by one of the sailors,
but the other could not overcome his fear and decided to remain. His
decision was irrevocable for he cast off the line and said:
"Good-bye boys, I am sorry that I can't go, I dare not risk it."
Paul and his companion pushed out and quietly passed under the stern and
until sufficiently far away from the vessel, they were very gentle in
their movement. Feeling more secure they struck out with powerful
strokes driving the plank that supported their bags, ahead. The
mountains that surround Malaga on all sides and tower far up in the
starlit sky seemed only a few hundred yards away; but it was a full mile
before the end of the plank grated on the shore and the sailors
scrambled out on the slippery and weed covered rocks. They landed a
little to the north of the city and grasping their bags commenced the
ascent of the mountain. This was very steep and rough and exceedingly
dangerous work as it was not yet daylight. Having gained a good height
up the side they rested. A faint glimmer was just then tingeing the sky
and everything around them was still as death. The gentle lapping of
the waves against the rocky shore, the barking of the dogs in Malaga,
and the occasional crow of a rooster rang out with wonderful
distinctness. The anchor light of the ship about one mile away twinkled
as though only a little distance off. Not yet feeling secure they began
climbing upwards. The progress was arrested by a hoarse sound coming
from the direction of the ship. As they sat on the rocks to listen,
they heard the voice of the mate baying out oath after oath, calling the
watch and asking:
"Who was the last on watch? Where is the watch? Turn out all hands!"
Then oaths from another voice came floating up and they had no
difficulty in recognizing the choice maledictions of the captain as he
rushed on deck to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. After this a
confused murmur arose from the deck through which they fancied they
could hear the blows of massive fists rained down on the heads and faces
of the unfortunate seaman. They distinctly heard the sharp order:
"Lower away the gig!" The click, click of the cleat as the rope ran
through the blocks sounded alarmingly near to them. Soon after, advanced
daylight revealed to them the boat as it was swiftly rowed to the
shore. They recognized the captain seated in the stern and laughed
heartily over the thought of the great rage of the commander whom they
knew was eating his heart out. They surmised that his mission was to go
to the Consul and report them as deserters and also start the Carbineros
in search of them, by means of a reward for their capture. But they felt
secure in the place they had selected, far up on the mountain. They
quietly enjoyed the scenes below and watched the lighters as they
carried out the last of the cargo. They laughed as they saw the
captain's gig shoot fretfully from ship to shore many times during the
day, while they enjoyed their pipes and ate with relish their salt beef
and sea-biscuits. Late in the afternoon they observed with glee the last
lighter leave the side of the Pilgrim, the captain's gig hoisted on
board, and the heavy sails loosened and dropped down. The clanking of
the anchor chain was joyful music as it was taken on board and the
Pilgrim under full sail soon glided away on a tack to the eastward. That
night they decided to camp in the mountains, but it proved so chilly
and uncomfortable that when the hour of three boomed out from the clock
below, they decided to move. They carefully descended the mountain
side until they found a road. This they followed until they entered
the town which they passed through without molestation. They took
the road to the south which they thought led to Gibraltar. By daylight
they were well out of Malaga and walking rapidly along. During the day
they met many peasants and exchanged the "buenos dias" and proceeded on
their way undisturbed. That night they came to a monastery, where a
peasant assured them they could find rest and supper. They were
hospitably received in the traveler's quarters. The assistant did
not seem to comprehend the Mexican-Spanish which Paul brokenly spoke. He
finally succeeded in making the monk understand that he could speak
French and that if there was any one around who could understand that
tongue he would be more at home. In response to his request the
assistant disappeared and soon returned with a venerable looking priest
who spoke French fluently. Paul explained to him that they were
seamen en route from Malaga to Gibraltar and that they wished to get
some information as to the road, also hospitality for the night.
Their request was complied with and they were assured that they were
perfectly welcome. Paul then questioned the priest in regard to the
Carlos revolution and said that he would just as soon join that as join
a ship. The priest, who proved to be an ardent admirer to Don Carlos,
assured them that it was impossible, as the seat of the revolution was
away in the north and too far for them to hope of reaching it by
foot. He advised them to continue on their way. Next morning after
breakfast they resumed their march and two days after entered the gates
of Gibraltar. Here they proceeded to a sailor's boarding house, where
they were assured they would have no difficulty in getting a ship.
Next day while hesitating over an offer they had from the captain of a
fruiter to run down to the Grecian Islands where he intended to load
with dry fruit and return to New York, a little English bark entered the
bay. Her first mate was so ill that they decided to land him and
leave him in the hospital. Paul sought out the captain and after a
close examination was engaged in the position vacated by the sick man.
The bark was the George, of North Shields, England. Paul induced
Captain Moore also to ship his companion before the mast. The same day
she weighed anchor and stood away on her course to Alameira. The crew
of this little bark was a happy family. The captain was an easy, quiet
humane man and a thorough sailor; the second mate was the owner's son
who came out more to gain experience than to do duty as an officer. This
was a far different craft from the blood-stained and wild Pilgrim that
was then ploughing her way to the westward. An oath or an angry word was
newer heard on the decks of the George, and the sailors seemed to do
more work than the sullen and harassed seamen on the Pilgrim. They
sailed up the beautiful coast of Andalusia and close in to the foot of
the mountains that towered from the clear blue, waters of the
Mediterranean far above the clouds, where their snow-white caps were
cool and refreshing to look at from the burning deck below. The bark was
laden with coal consigned to a firm in Alameira and the captain's
instructions were to bring back a cargo of Spanish grass and copper ore.
At Alameira they had to anchor in an open roadsted and the George's
cargo was discharged into lighters. The method of discharging coal where
there are no steam engines or docks to run alongside, is rather
primitive and is known as "jumping." An upright stairs or ladder is made
on the deck by lashing spars together. A block is fastened far above in
the rigging over the hatch through which a rope is rove leading down
into the hold. The end of this rope is fastened to a long spar just the
height of the ladder and terminating in a number of lines called whips.
These are grasped by six or eight sailors who climb the ladder, made of
spars, that has been set over the hatch. When the large bucket is filled
with coal below, the order is given to jump. The seamen simultaneously
spring from the spar while banging on to the whips, and their combined
weight brings up the huge tub of coal, which is grasped by the
lighter men and dumped over the side into their boat. When the cargo of
coal was discharged they commenced taking in copper ore until she was
sufficiently ballasted to proceed up the coast to Motril to finish her
cargo with Spanish Grass. This article is a coarse grained material
something like a rush and of the nature of willow and bamboo combined,
and is used extensively in England in the manufacture of mats, chair
bottoms, etc. It was put up in bales and proved a most disagreeable
article to stow away in the hold.
The cargo being completed, anchor was weighed to the cheerful sound of
"homeward bound" and the George started on her voyage to Newcastle,
England. Owing to head winds the bark had to tack all the way to
Gibraltar. Sometimes close under a mountain and again far out in
the Mediterranean, she beat her way down the coast. The weather was
clear and beautiful and the crew did not have much to do outside of
cleaning her down, mending and making sails. All who could handle the
needle well were engaged in that occupation. They sat on the quarter
deck and sewed industriously while the boatswain chalked and cut the
lines for them. Good natured Captain Moore spent his watch on deck,
chatting away with them and listening to their yarns. He thoroughly
enjoyed their jokes and superstitions with winch many of their
quaint stories were intermingled. While doing so he usually smoked a
long clay pipe and being a very forgetful man the moment he laid it out
of his hands he never remembered where he had left it. He was also a
very short sighted man and the boys often had a quiet joke on him by
shifting the pipe from place to place while he was looking for it.
Once the boatswain, named Smith, who was as mischievous as a monkey,
thought he would play a good joke on the captain. Seeing him lay his
pipe on the lattice work aft of the wheel and run down into the cabin to
get his glasses, Smith jumped up and threw his pipe overboard and
sketched one in chalk in the same place. On mounting the deck the
captain took a long look at the stranger that had just hove in sight
over the starboard bow; then laid his glasses on the skylight and looked
around for his pipe. When he saw the sketch he reached forth his
hand to pick it up. Being convinced by the suppressed murmur of
merriment he heard among the sail-sewers that they knew of the joke, he
quickly disappeared down the hatchway. The sailors drove sail needles
into each other in their hilarity. As he captain made no remark, the
incident was forgotten.
The following Sunday morning the captain called Paul down and told him
to order all hands on deck and get the chain hooks. This order surprised
Paul as it was very unusual for any work to be done on Sunday except to
stand watch, steer and trim sail. He made no remark, however, but
proceeded to the deck and ordered all hands out. The men let their
washing, sewing, and other domestic duties to which they generally
devoted their attention on Sunday, and came on deck more astonished than
Paul was. He then told the boatswain to get out the chain hooks. The
captain now appeared and gave the order to "hoist away that starboard
chain and trice it along the deck." This was a terrible job as
fully sixty fathoms of the heavy anchor chain lay stowed away in the
chain locker below. The men sprang to work and fathom after fathom of
the chain was pulled up with the aid of the hooks and tried in lengths
along the deck. When the boatswain reported "all up, sir," the order was
given, "Get up the port chain." The men groaned, but complied without a
murmur and link after link of the heavy chain from far below was drawn
up through the iron bound hole in the deck. It was almost noon when the
perspiring and worn out sailors had it all up. Again the report, "It is
all up, sir," was given to the captain:
"That's impossible Mr. Smith, look down and see if you can't find more."
In compliance with the order, Smith applied his eye to the hole and
again assured the captain that it was taut.
"Look again and see if you can't find it."
"Find what?" irritably enquired Smith.
"Why, my pipe to be sure. You can now let the crew go below."
Notwithstanding their fatigue, the boys had to laugh and all agreed that
that was one on the boatswain.
The crew was great on debating and many and many a foolish question came
up in the forecastle. After long argument, Paul was generally made
referee. One evening during the dog watch he could hear a violent debate
in the forecastle and wondered to himself what ridiculous question
would now be presented to him for decision. He was quickly enlightened
by seeing two of the sea-lawyers approaching the quarter deck. One of
them was named Hiram Young, a very ignorant but positive American
sailor, the other named Daniel Sneers, an Englishman equally ignorant
and if possible more positive. When they neared the quarter deck Paul
asked: "Well what is it?"
"We want you to decide a question sir," said Young, "this 'ere Sneers
says and maintains as what England put in a challenge in the paper and
kept it in for six months, offering to fight any country on the face of
the earth, and I argues as she never put it in a American paper or she
would a' been snapped up like that," demonstrating his remark by
snapping his forefinger and thumb.
Paul tried to show them the difference between nations and prize
fighters, but neither of them seemed thoroughly satisfied with the
explanation given. As they walked back to the forecastle, Paul overheard
Young remark, that "She might a put it in French or a Italian paper, but
he was d--d if they ever put in a American paper!"
When they reached Gibraltar a heavy west wind was blowing in through the
strait. Under lowered top-sails they were compelled to beat up and
down under the shelter of the rocks. A large fleet of weather bound
vessels kept the George company. It is too deep to anchor here, so
the vessels are compelled to keep moving up and down until they get a
fair wind to go through the straits into the Adriatic. While cruising
about, the vessels passed so closely that the crews could hold
conversation with each other, and many a friend was recognized and
hailed. Their second morning under the lee of the rock during Paul's
watch the large bark Culpepper, commanded by a very irritable old
mariner was slowly passing. The angry voice of the captain, as he
heartily cursed his crew was plainly heard on the George. In a lull in
the torrent of abuse an Irish sailor who was leaning over the
George's rail, said derisively:
"Hould on, hould on Captain, till the waters bile and Oi'll go over and
shave ye."
The remark was overheard by the captain of the Culpepper who cried
loudly and angrily:
"Bark ahoy, there! Bark ahoy, there."
"What do you want?" responded Paul coming to the side.
"Are you the captain?" demanded the infuriated ruler of the Culpepper.
"No," said Paul, "he is below."
"Then call him up," he thundered.
At this moment, Captain Moore, who had heard the conversation, protruded
his head through the hatch and Paul informed him that the captain of
the Culpepper desired to speak to him. He hailed the Culpepper and
desired to know what was wanted.
"Why one of your ----- shell-backs insulted me," was the answer that
floated across the water.
"What did he say?" inquired Captain Moore.
"Why he told me to wait till the water boiled and he would come aboard
and shave me," thundered the angry captain of the Culpepper.
"And why the blazes don't you wait, it would add to your personal
appearance considerably," said Captain Moore as he disappeared down
the gangway.
About noon the wind changed and the long looked for easterly breeze came
rippling over the waters of the Mediterranean. All sail was made and
the fleet stood away through the straits. The Culpepper stood side by
side for about five miles during which time the crews keenly enjoyed the
broadside of compliments that was hurled from vessel to vessel by the
two commanders. The George made a fair run and in due time entered the
mouth of the Tyne and was soon after moored at the docks at Newcastle
where Paul left her. He was loth to do so as it was the pleasantest
vessel, captain and crew he had ever shipped with.
He then engaged himself as first mate on the ship Campbell, a Nova
Scotia boat bound from North Shields to Philadelphia with a cargo
of chemicals. When a couple of days out he discovered that the second
mate was more brutal than either of the worthies on the Pilgrim. He
was always below during the second mate's watch on deck so he had no
chance of witnessing any acts of brutality, but he was posted on the
subject by the men in his own watch, whom he always treated with
kindness and consideration. He informed the captain about the reports he
had heard. The latter agreed that it was wrong to maltreat sailors; but
Paul felt sure that he closed his eye to many strange doings on his ship
and that when a man representing himself to be a sailor came aboard and
proved incompetent, there was no punishment considered severe enough
for him. Three such unfortunates were aboard this ship, one in Paul's
watch and two in the second mate's watch. Paul soon discovered that the
man was unskillful. He could neither steer, reef nor splice so he set
him to scrubbing, and by a few encouraging remarks got him to work
harder than any one on the watch. The unfortunate would-be sailors in
the second mate's watch did not fare so well. He instructed them in the
mysteries of navigation through the agency of his fists. While the
watches were being relieved, Paul noticed their blackened eyes and
swollen cheek that evidenced all too plainly the effect of the second
mate's bad temper. One night during the second mate's watch, the vessel
was struck by a number of baffling squalls that seemed to come from
every direction. This necessitated constant trimming of the sails and
the men were kept hard at work. Every few minutes one could hear the
hoarse orders given as the men scampered hither and thither to man the
ropes. The oaths, blows, and fighting on this watch, kept both the
captain and Paul awake. Seeing the captain turn out of his bunk and
light his pipe, Paul remarked: "They are having a pretty warm time on
deck."
"Yes," responded the skipper, "I presume Stanley is drilling some of
those landmen."
At eight bells, when Paul's watch on deck commenced, he relieved the
second mate, who was in a towering rage at the stupidity of his watch.
The vessel was then under reefed topsails only and prepared for the
uncertain squalls that were driving all around. At daylight Paul ordered
hands aloft to shake out the reefs and set top gallants. As the top sail
was raised he noticed dark blotches all across it and hailing the man
aloft he asked him what caused them.
"Blood, sir," answered the sailor.
Paul well understood the meaning of it and knew it to be the work of the
second mate, who had beaten the men over the head with a belaying pin
while they were reefing. Shortly after the captain came on deck, Paul
called his attention to the blood-stained sail and said: "This work has
got to be stopped."
The captain shrugged his shoulders. "What can we do?"
"That's for you to say," answered Paul. "You're in command here."
"Well, I'll have to talk with Stanley when he turns out."
At seven bells the order: "Pump ship, call the watch," was given. The
watch was called but failed to respond. The sailor sent to call it again
reported that port watch did not intend to turn out. It was now eight
bells and time for Paul's watch to go below. The captain came on deck
followed by the second mate, with whom he had been remonstrating. Paul
reported that the watch had been called out but refused to come. The
second mate with a terrible oath started forward saying:
"I'll have the dogs on deck mighty soon."
He reached the forecastle door and flung it back. The same moment both
Paul and the captain saw him stagger and fall to deck. He bellowed
lustily for help. The captain and Paul rushed to his assistance and
found him bleeding profusely from knife wounds in the breast and
abdomen, while the port watch with drawn knives stood sullen and
determined looking in the forecastle. This sight staggered the captain
who exclaimed:
"Mutiny by the eternal!" and called loudly for the steward to bring him
his revolver.
Paul ordered some of his watch to carry the mate, who was groaning, aft,
then advancing to the forecastle door said:
"Boys, this is not right. This must not be. Put up those knives. If you
have any grievances come out like men and give them to the captain."
"Oh, we have nothing to say against you or the captain," responded the
leader, "but we have determined to die before we turn to under that man
again."
Paul requested the men to keep calm and cool and he would speak to the
captain who, during this interval, had slipped back to the cabin to arm
himself. Paul advised the captain, as he met him coming out of the cabin
with a revolver in each hand, not to go to the men in that shape.
"I am sure those men are determined. Their bloodshot eyes and frenzied
manner convince me that they have not slept a wink during the watch
below and have deliberately planned this outbreak and mean mischief. I
cannot guarantee that my watch will not join them as they are all
heartily sick of the second mate's inhumanity."
The captain thought it over for a few minutes and said, "You go forward
and find out what they want."
When Paul returned to the forecastle he informed the men that the
captain was anxious to hear their complaint and see that they were
righted, and advised them to walk aft in a body and speak for
themselves, assuring them at the same time that they would receive
justice. After some hesitation they agreed to go aft. Paul preceded
and told the captain that they were coming and he could hear their
complaints for himself. At first the captain seemed inclined to bully
the men and assert his authority; but the determined look caused him to
change his mind, and he was very diplomatic in his treatment of them.
"Boys," he said, "I have sailed the seas for many a year and always like
to treat my men well. One thing I object to and that is murdering
mates. Now you are all in open mutiny and I am authorized by law to
shoot you."
Here the men laughed derisively.
"Now," he continued, "I am against bloodshed and I want to know just
what you men want and what I can do for you."
They looked at each other and to the one whom they regarded as leader.
He was a sturdy, powerful Scotchman who stepped forward and said:
"If you were against bloodshed, why didn't you come out last night when
the second mate tried to kill some of us. We are willing to turn to
again; but not under that hound. We meant to kill him, he deserved it
and if he is not dead it is not our fault. We are well aware that there
is no law for a sailor before the mast, so at times the sailor has to
take the law in his own hands. Now me and my mates are willing to work
ship under you and the first mate but you must keep that brute out of
sight providing he recovers."
The captain made another speech to the sailors in which he promised them
that they would not again be molested by the second mate. He also
stated that Paul could take the port watch and he would take the
starboard watch. The men appeared well satisfied with this arrangement
and turned to with a will. The captain and Paul walked up and down the
quarter deck talking over the situation. The determined attitude of the
men seemed to have caused a change in the captain's opinion, so much so
that he gave Paul a long lecture on the duty of superior officers to
treat their men kindly.
An examination of the second mate proved that he had been cut in five
different places. All the simple remedies in the sea-chest were applied
to relieve him from his sufferings. Neither the captain nor Paul had
sufficient medical knowledge to know whether he was seriously wounded
or not. They ad the steward wash the cuts which they covered liberally
with plasters to stop the bleeding. The captain then insisted on giving
the wounded man a tumblerful of strong whisky, saying "that it was the
best thing in the world to kill a fever." They came to the conclusion
that there was no danger of the mate passing away quickly owing to the
savage kick he made while laying in his bunk, at the head of the
inoffensive steward who was doing all he could to help him. But his
wounds proved so severe that he was not able to leave his bunk until the
vessel reached Philadelphia. Owing to the new arrangement, everything
went well. There was no more fighting, cursing, or driving and the work
on board was done promptly and cheerfully.
In a conversation with one of the two young fellows who were the special
victims of the wounded mate's ferocity, Paul ascertained that he was a
delicate and well educated youth from Hartford, Connecticut, whose
romantic dream for years had been to go to sea. He ran away from home
and fell into the hands of the master of a sailor's boarding house who
robbed him of all he could and put him aboard a ship bound for Hull.
The captain and officers of this ship proved humane, and though not
absolutely ill-treated or beaten, his life was a misery. From Hull he
went up to the Tyne on a coaster, where he joined the Campbell. He
assured Paul with tears in his eyes, that several times before the
outbreak in the forecastle he had concluded to dive overboard and swim
far down in the sea to end his misery. He is a type of the many boys who
think there is nothing but pleasure and romance in connection with life
on the sea.
About this time heavy westerly winds set in against the Campbell and
drove her far out of her course and for weeks she beat about in the
most horrible weather. To add to their discomfort some of the water
casks were stove, so that the crew were placed on short allowance
until they were relieved by a barkentine named, The Girl of the Period.
She was from Palermo with fruit, sixty-three days out and bound for New
York.
In exactly seventy-one days after the Campbell had made sail out of the
mouth of the Tyne she tied up at the docks at Philadelphia. Paul left
this ship thoroughly satisfied with his experience and with the firm
resolution never again to tread the plank of a ship either as sailor
or officer.