"The young chap's as alive as I am; he's quite warm. Rouse up, Dick,
you rascal! But take care you don't sing out, or it'll be the worse for
you."
Still I endeavoured to make them believe I was really dead. It was a
satisfaction to find that they were casting off the lashings from my
arms and legs; but when one of them lifted up my arm I let it fall down
again, like that of a dead person. This seemed to puzzle them, and old
Growles gave me a cruel pinch on the arm. Though I didn't cry out, I
had the greatest difficulty not to flinch. He then bent back one of my
fingers. It was a wonder he didn't break it. Not able to endure the
pain, I cried out.
"I thought so," he said, with a low laugh. "You can't play your tricks
off on us, youngster," said the boatswain, "and you'll gain nothing by
it."
I said nothing, but looked up at him as if I had just awakened out of a
sleep or a trance.
"Now mind you," he continued, "if you shout out or make any noise, we'll
gag you and leave you to starve; but if you keep quiet you shall have
some food, and you won't be worse off than when you were shut up before
in the hold."
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.
"That's not for you to know," answered the boatswain. "We're not going
to kill you, for fear you should haunt the ship, not for any love to
you. We could have made away with you long ago, if we had thought fit.
We're not going to let you go ashore, and let you give a bad name to the
ship and us. We know who 'peached to the captain, and you may think
yourself fortunate that you were not dropped overboard next night. Will
you promise to keep quiet?"
I knew that I was in the hands of unscrupulous ruffians, whose fears
alone prevented them from doing away with me; so there was no use
holding out. I therefore said that I would make no noise if they would
unlash my arms and legs and bring me some food. I found that I was in
the place I had supposed--a big locker which had been cleaned out to
make room for me. It smelt horribly of tar and rancid grease, and coils
of small rope and balls of twine, mats, cans, pots, and brushes, up in
the corners, showed me what was usually stowed in it.
"Shall we trust the young rascal?" asked the boatswain of his companion.
"He daren't break his word," answered Growles; "he knows what he'll get
if he does."
Thereupon they unlashed my arms and legs. I considered for a moment
whether I could spring past them and gain the deck. Perhaps they
thought I might make the attempt; and before I had time to do more than
think of it, they had shut the door and locked me in. I knew, from the
quietness of the ship, that she was still at anchor, and I hoped that my
friends might make inquiries about me that might lead to my discovery;
and this idea kept me up. As I lay perfectly still I could hear the
crew hoisting the remainder of the cargo out of the hold. The noise
they made would have drowned my voice, even had I ventured to cry out.
I guessed, also, that most of them knew of my imprisonment, and would
not assist me. My only solace was the thought that Mr McTavish, who
had been so friendly to me, would insist on searching the ship, and then
I thought it probable a story would be told of my having fallen
overboard. They would very likely say that I had got drunk with their
wine, and been seen rolling along the deck, or something of that sort.
I did not, indeed, altogether despair of making my escape. As I lay in
the ill-odorous locker I thought and thought of all sorts of plans. In
spite of the smells I was getting hungry, and I wished that the
boatswain or Growles would return with the food they had promised. If
only one came I made up my mind to seize him by the throat, put my
fingers into his eyes, spring up past him, and try to gain the deck. It
would be hazardous in the extreme; for, if he caught me, he would not
let me go, and in the struggle I should certainly be overcome, when he
would not fail to punish me severely--perhaps to deprive me of life.
Still, anything was better than to have again to endure the sufferings I
had gone through in the hold. I nerved myself up for the undertaking I
proposed. All was again silent in the hold. The crew had, I concluded,
knocked off work; whether to go to dinner or for the day I could not
calculate. After some time I heard the sound as of some one moving near
me, the door opened, and the light of a lantern fell on my face. There
were two heads instead of one. It would be madness to attempt to spring
past them, so I lay quiet.
"Here's the food I promised you," said the voice of old Growles. "Eat
it and be thankful; it's more than you deserve."
It consisted of biscuit and meat, and a cooked root of some sort. He
placed also a can of water by my side.
"Don't capsize it; for you'll get no more," he said, drawing my
attention to it.
Wishing to soothe him and throw him off his guard, I answered and
thanked him. Before I could finish the sentence he had shut to the door
and left me to discuss my meal in the dark. I heard him and his
companion go away. The air which had come in had revived my appetite,
and I eagerly ate up the provisions and drank the water, supposing that
I should have more in due time. As soon as I had finished my meal I
tried to see if I could force open the door, but I could discover no
tool of any description. I made up my mind therefore to wait patiently
till the opportunity offered of getting out. Perhaps the next time old
Growles or the boatswain would come alone, or they might send some one
else; or, should my friends be searching the ship, I might make them
hear me. While these thoughts were passing through my mind I again fell
asleep.
It might be found wearisome were I to describe my thoughts and
sensations, my hopes and fears, while I was awake, or to say how often I
slept. Day after day passed. Old Growles and the boatswain invariably
came together; they seemed to divine that should only one come I might
in my desperation attempt to pass him.
As far as I could judge the crew were now taking cargo on board, as I
could hear the bales descending into the hold. They consisted, I
afterwards found, of skins and peltries. How much longer the ship would
remain in harbour I could not tell, nor could I conjecture when I was to
be set free. They would scarcely keep me a prisoner during the
remainder of the voyage, as, shut up, I could do nothing, but if I were
at liberty I could make myself useful. Drearily the time passed away.
Fear still prevented me from shouting out; for, from the position I was
in, I could certainly have made myself heard by the crew, although my
voice would not have reached to the cabin. From the remarks that I had
heard from the passengers, when we were approaching the Columbia River,
I guessed that, having loaded with furs, we should cross the Pacific to
China, where they would fetch a high price, and thence, as I knew
beforehand, with the produce of that country, we should proceed to
Australia, where we should load with wood for home. If I were kept a
prisoner for the whole period I should lose my health, if not my life.
How many days or nights I had been kept in confinement I could not
calculate, when I heard the sounds of heaving up the anchor; a trampling
of feet, as if sail was being made. Some time afterwards I was sensible
of a movement in the ship, and presently she plunged into a heavy sea,
and I could hear much rushing of water against her sides. Again she
made a more furious plunge, and I guessed that we were crossing the bar.
I knew that I was right, as shortly afterwards the ship glided on with
a comparatively slight movement. All hope of being rescued by my
friends was gone. I knew that we must have crossed the bar while it was
light, but I was allowed to remain in prison for another night. At last
the door was opened, and old Growles and the boatswain appeared.
"You may go on deck now, youngster," said old Growles; "but remember, as
you value your life, that you don't tell the captain or any one else who
put you down here. You played the stowaway once, and you must say you
did so again, 'cos you didn't want to go ashore and live among the
injins. If he believes you or not, it doesn't much matter; only you
stick to it, and, mind yer, you'll come to a bad end if you don't."
I made no answer, for although I wished to get out of the locker and
enjoy the fresh air once more, I could not make up my mind to tell a
falsehood, notwithstanding the threats of the old ruffian. Neither he
nor the boatswain seemed to expect an answer. Perhaps they thought it
mattered very little whether or not I promised to do as they ordered me,
not believing that I would keep my word if it suited my convenience to
break it; for, without saying another word, they bound my eyes, and one
of them dragged me along among bales and other articles of cargo, which
I could feel as I passed by.
"Stay here," said the boatswain, "till it strikes four bells. You may
then find your way on deck as you best can, and spin any yarn you like
to account for yourself being there, only mind you don't 'peach on us,
or, as I said afore it'll be the worse for you."
As he spoke he took the bandage off my eyes, and I heard the men
retiring. I was still in total darkness, but I had been so often
accustomed to find my way about under such circumstances that I was not
very anxious on that account. I thought it prudent, however, to remain
seated until I heard four bells strike, when on feeling about I was
almost convinced that I was on the spar-deck. I could distinguish the
tramp of feet overhead as if sail was being made, and shortly
afterwards, the hatchway being lifted up, daylight streamed down upon
me. Pining for fresh air, and desperately hungry, I lost no time in
making my way on deck.
There stood the captain and two mates. The ship was under all sail,
gliding rapidly before a strong breeze over the ocean, while the blue
outline of the land could dimly be seen astern. I stood irresolute
whether to go at once up to the captain and get the worst over, or to
run forward and ask the cook to give me something to eat. I was about
to follow the latter course, when I heard the captain's voice shouting,
"Halloa, youngster, where on earth do you come from?"
"That's more than I can exactly say, sir," I answered.
"Why, we thought you had gone overboard and been drowned, or had slipped
ashore and been carried off by the Indians," he continued; "Mr McTavish
and the other gentlemen were making a great ado about you. You have
been playing your old trick again. For my part, I should have supposed
you would have been glad enough to get out of the ship, as I understood
they wished to take you with them."
"Please sir, I hope you'll pardon me for what has happened," I said, an
idea at that moment striking me. "I want to become a sailor, and I'll
promise to try and do my duty, and learn to be one if you'll allow me."
The captain, from what I said, at once took it for granted that I had
again acted the stowaway, and I flattered myself that I had not spoken
an untruth, while I had avoided saying anything which would offend him.
I observed that old Growles had come aft, and was then within earshot.
The captain seemed rather pleased than otherwise that I had not wished
to leave the ship.
"Go forward," he said, "and let me see that you do your duty."
He was evidently in better humour than usual, having got a rich freight
which he had not expected. Touching my cap, I hurried to the caboose.
Caesar rolled his eyes and opened his mouth with astonishment when he
saw me.
"Where you been all dis time, Dick?" he asked.
"That's more than I can tell you, Caesar. Do in mercy give me some
grub, for I'm well-nigh starved," I answered.
He gave me part of a mess he had been cooking for himself.
"Dis curious ship," he said, as he remarked the ravenous way in which I
devoured the food. "I no ask questions, you no tell lies, dat is it.
Oh you wise boy."
I suspected from this that Caesar had observed the visits of old Growles
and the boatswain to the hold, and shrewdly guessed that I had been a
prisoner. I could not understand, however, how the captain didn't make
some fuss about it, unless he also was cognisant of the fact; but of
that I was left in uncertainty. I had expected from the way he had
first treated me that some change for the better would take place in my
condition, but in this I was mistaken. I was at the beck and call of
every one, having to do all the dirty work in the cabin, and being
knocked about and bullied by the men just as much as before.