THE BOATSWAIN'S YARN.
"Now past the limit, which his course divides,
When to the north the sun's bright chariot rides;
We leave the winding bays, and swarthy shores,
Where Senegal's black wave impetuous roars;
And now from far the Libyan Cape is seen,
Since by my mandate called the Cape of Green."
_The Lusiad._
Jamie Gair had the stroke oar, and Borthwick the other; they bent all
their energies to the task of pulling the boat against an ebb-tide,
which was fast leaving bare and dry the Drumilaw Sands, and the long
stretch of desolate beach at the promontory known as the Buddonness.
Jamie kept his ears open to catch any passing remark from the
high-born traitors who occupied the stern-sheets of his boat; but,
full of their own dark thoughts, they remained silent until she was
within a bowshot of the beach, when the Laird of Sauchie said,--
"So, on the evening of the 10th, we must have this dame sailing
merrily at sea! A perilous promise!"
"Perilous!" said Gray, gruffly; "how so?"
"Ken ye, Sir Patrick, what the law saith anent trysts with
Englishmen?"
"I ken little, and I care less," replied the Knight of Kyneff,
doggedly; "but what says it?"
"That if any Englishman enter the kingdom of Scotland, without the
sign-manual of the king, and is found at kirk or market, or in any
other place, he shall be the lawful prisoner of whoever chooses to
seize him. That the Scot who brings an Englishman to tryst, shall be
committed to ward, and have his goods escheat. For such are the laws
of James II. and his parliament of 1455."
"Well, we who are barons of parliament, and make the laws, have
assuredly the power of breaking them. Besides, he who can lead a
thousand lances to the king's host, can make laws to suit himself."
"But how know ye not, Sir Patrick, but this fellow Borthwick may
betray us."
"He dare not mar his profit and our own."
"The boatman, then--he might suspect us--yea, might speak."
"Assure me of that," hissed the low, deep voice of Gray, "and I will
drive this poniard into his brisket."
Jamie's heart leaped, and he grasped his oar tighter; but at that
moment the boat grounded on the beach, and, while they sprang ashore,
he hooked his kedge-anchor in the sand, placed the oars on his
shoulder, and doffing his bonnet to his honourable employers, turned
away towards the red light that yet streamed from his cottage window.
"Be discreet, good fellow," said Shaw, in an impressive whisper, as
he placed a coin in Jamie's hand. "Now, fare ye well, carle, and God
speed ye."
"Be close as a steel-vice, Jamie Gair," added Borthwick, "lest I tell
the Lord Chamberlain that there is a rookery in the trees at thy
kailyard, and thou shalt be sorely fined, and mayhap imprisoned in
Broughty; for Beltane time is past, the corn is ripening, and thou
knowest the law."
With these warnings they left him, and, muffled in their cloaks,
strode hastily along the beach, towards where the outline of
Broughty, square, black, and grim, on its rock that jutted into the
ferry, rose between them and the starlit sky--for now the clouds had
disappeared, but the moon had waned. Jamie turned to look after the
English ship, but though almost shrouded in haze, he could perceive
her standing off towards the south-east with all her sails set.
"An angel--a golden angel!" said Jamie, turning over the bright coin
in his hard hand. "By my saul, there maun be some dark plot in the
wind when these limbs o' Satan pay sae weel! Jamie Gair, Jamie Gair!
tak ye tent; for this braw fee may never bring aught but dool and
sorrow to thee and thine. Now to kiss my doo Mary, and then, ho for
the admiral! for he shall hear o' this hellicate job, though I should
never see another sun blink down the Carse o' Gowrie."
Entering his cottage softly, this honest fellow found his blooming
Mary asleep by the warm ingle. The fire had smouldered on the
hearth, and the stappit-haddie had been allowed to burn; but the
bicker of spiced ale stood yet by the wooden fender. Jamie took a
long draught, wiped his mustachios with the back of his brown hand,
kissed Mary, and awoke her.
"Where awa noo, gudeman?" she asked, perceiving that he took up his
walking-staff.
"Dundee, lass."
"Dundee, at this time o' the morning, when you should be beside me in
your bed. And mind, ye maun awa to the fishing-ground by sun-rise,
Jamie."
"Na, na, lass, I have other bait to my line. There has been foul
treason on the water this night, Mary, and I maun e'en seek the
admiral; but, 'odsake, say nae word o' this to the neighbours, or the
hellicate Captain o' Broughty may mak ye a widow before your time,
lassie. In a siccar place, put by the braw gowden fee, till we see
what comes o't, lest dool and disgrace fa' on us. And now, lass,
fare ye well;" and pulling his broad bonnet over his face, Jamie
departed for Dundee.
The keep of Broughty was reddening in the rising sun, as the
fisherman passed it, on the landward side, for safety and
concealment, keeping as much as possible among the whins and other
wild bushes that grew on the margin of the wide salt marsh which then
stretched from the barbican of the fortress round by the hill of
Balgillo. The tide had ebbed; the sands of Moniefreth and Barry were
dry, and the bare promontory of the Buddonness stretched far into
that blue sea, on which the three English ships were then diminished
to mere specks. Jamie gave a last glance to ascertain their course,
and hurried on towards the town.
The summer morning was beautiful; the Tay lay in its basin like a
sheet of glass, on which the ships, the town, and sunlit hills were
mirrored. The midsummer flowers were mingling with the bluebells,
the crimson foxglove and wild hollyhock; the hill of Balgillo, with
the desert muirland that lay at its base, were waving with purple
heather-cups. The fisherman's heart expanded joyously with the
beauty of the opening day; and after hurrying past the old castle of
Claypotts, then a seat of the Abbot of Lindores, he reverently said a
short prayer to St. Peter, the patron of his craft, in the little
chapel of St. Rocque of Narbonne, which stood without the
Cowgait-porte, on the east side of the Bitter Burn. This little
fane, like all other holy edifices in that age, remained open night
and day; and in the principal shrine stood an image of the saint,
having the left breast marked by the cross which appeared upon his
bosom when born into the world. A little burying-ground encircled
the cell. From thence a narrow lane, causewayed with large round
sea-stones, and encumbered by outside stairs which ascended upward to
the houses or descended downward to the cellars, where the merchants
were beginning to display their wares, led to the centre of the town,
and to the Kirk of St. Clement, near which another narrow lane then
led directly towards the harbour.
The streets were then unpaved, and were full of gleds and corbies,
which squattered and fed on the offal of the narrow wynds and
fleshers' stalls.
Some of the loiterers at the Craig of St. Nicholas readily permitted
Jamie to use their boat, and in a few minutes he found himself on the
ample deck of his Majesty's _Yellow Frigate_, which was riding with
her head to the stream, her yards all squared to perfection, her
black rigging all taut as iron rods, and her broad blue ensign and
pennon flaunting in the morning wind.
The watch on deck crowded about the early visitor.
"Welcome on board, Jamie Gair," said Master Wad the gunner, who was
in charge of the deck, and was a short-legged personage, with a red
visage, enormous black beard, and stunted figure, encased in a rough
grey gaberdine; "what na wind hath blawn ye here betimes? Are ye
tired o' your lubberly trade o' fisherman, and come to take service
under the broad pennon o' the admiral? I marvel muckle ye have na
tired lang syne o' sailing ilka morning to that weary fishing-ground,
like the son o' a shotten herring. I would rather drink bilge-water
a' my days, than turn fisherman again."
"My best anchor--my bonnie Mary--is still at hame, Maister Wad,"
retorted Jamie; "but we a' ken how your Tib broke from her moorings
and went adrift, naebody kens where."
"Tut--I have ten Marys as gude as yours," replied the gunner, "forbye
a Meinie and a Peg to boot."
"I have nae time for daffin the noo, Maister Wad. Is the admiral on
board?"
"No--he is at the king's lodging, and has no come off yet; but what
would ye wi' _him_?"
"That which you maunna hear, Willie. Then, is the Captain Barton on
board?"
"No--he, Sir David Falconer, and a' body else (but the chaplain) are
ashore at St. Margaret's."
Gair stamped his foot, and scratched his beard impatiently.
"Can ye no tell us what's in the wind, man?" asked the seamen, as
they clustered about him, in surprise at his excitement.
"Come," said Cuddie the coxswain, "what can _you_ have to tell the
admiral that we canna hear? Out wi' it, hand owre hand, man."
"It's something that will find ye a' work for a week to come,
something that may knock the harns out o' half your heads," replied
Gair, angrily.
"I have seen foul weather in my time, brother," growled Archy of
Anster, the boatswain; "and I have seen some gey het work, too,
between the English Channel and the Rock o' Lisbon; but I marvel what
the deil ye drive at, Gair!"
"May I never drink aught but black bilge-water, if I dinna think him
clean daft," added the gunner; "but he canna see the admiral till
mid-day, when the kind's council breaks up; sae, Jamie, after Father
Zuill hath piped all hands to mass, you had better just take your
breakfast wi' us, like a douce man, and meet the admiral after, when
tide and time suit."
Aware that he could not entrust his secret with the seamen, among
whom it would have spread like wildfire, and cost him, perhaps, his
life--for a word from Sir James Shaw, or the tyrannical captain of
Broughty, would be sufficient to hang a poor fisherman among the
rooks that Borthwick spoke of--Jamie was obliged to exert his
patience, and join the seamen at their mess of Lammas ale and
porridge in the forecastle, where, after this humble repast was ever,
Master Wad produced his fiddle, and, after mass was done and the
chaplain gone ashore, sung the famous ditty, still known to our
fishermen, of the
"Four-and-twenty mermaids, who left the port of Leith,
To tempt the fine auld hermit, who dwelt upon Inchkeith;
Nor boat, nor waft, nor crayer, nor craft had they, nor oars or sails,
Their lily hands were oars enough, their tillers were their tails," &c.
"I could tell ye something mair wonderful than the mermaiden's
voyage, brother," said the grey-haired boatswain, who dearly loved to
spin a yarn whenever he could get listeners. He was a rough-visaged
Scot, with two great red-spotted cheekbones, a nose that had a
sword-cut across it, and which stuck out between two enormous
whiskers that mingled with his grisly beard. "Our gude chaplain
thinks to discover a process whereby he can make ships proof to the
shot of culverins--for so he told me yesternight."
"By my faith, old Ropeyarn," said Cuddie the coxswain, who was his
exact counterpart, "that will be better than muddling his brains in
trying to mak burning-glasses that will set a fleet in a bleeze at a
league's distance."
"Brother," said the gunner, striking his large-jointed hands together
emphatically, for between such inventions, it seemed not improbable
that his profession would prove a useless one; "brother, I ken
navagation as weel as maist men; I have run all Europe down twenty
times, frae the North Cape to the Gut o' Gibraltar--ay, I have seen
the Rio Grande, and the great peak 'o the Fortunate Isles, that rises
right out o' the sea like a spear-head, and flames like a torch; I
have seen the sea-devils that swim round the Cape de Verd, where the
glinting o' the moon makes men mad, and where St. Elmo's light dances
like a will-o'-the-wisp on the main-mast heid: yet it is a blessed
light, for it ever precedes a calm: but may I ne'er drink aught but
bilge, if I can swallow a yarn like yours. I have seen muckle in my
time, but never saw I a ship's side that would turn a cannon-shot, or
a sail that had a hole burned in it by a mirror ten miles awa; yet
our chaplain pretends to ken o' baith. My word on't, lads, he sails
beyond his commission, and will be brought up all standing, some day,
by the bishops, for sorcery, maybe."
"He is as gude a man as ever trod a plank," said the coxswain, "but
his noddle hath as many crotchets as the dog-star hath rays. Minnows
and mackerel! to believe in shot-proof ships!"
"Why not?" asked the boatswain, gruffly. "I'll tell ye what I have
seen, messmate--a shot-proof man. Now what think ye o' that; one, at
least, who was proof to steel."
"I'll tell ye when I hear, brother," replied the seaman: "was it one
o' the antipodes, who walk on their heads?"
"Weel, I care na if I spin the yarn before the watch is called," said
the boatswain; "but first, here is to the gude saut water, and a'
that live on't!" and he poured down his capacious throat the last of
the ale, and after wiping his mouth three or four times with the cuff
of his gaberdine, spitting twice through an open port, and fixing his
eyes on the beam overhead, he thrust his hands into his pockets,
placed his logs on the deck, his back against a gun-carriage, and
began thus:--
"Ye maun ken, messmates, that after leaving the Gut o' Gibraltar, we
were beating westward against a head-wind. Our craft was the _Peggie
o' Pittenweem_, hameward bound from Barcelona, for Leith, wi' a mixed
cargo o' wine and oil, fruit, cork, and hides, and Sir Andrew, the
admiral, who was then but a sma' merchant-skipper, had ten brass
culverins in her, forbye some braw pateraroes along her gunnel, for
the behoof o' the heathen Moors o' Barbary if they daured to meddle
wi' us. After losing sight o' the Castle of Gibraltar, and the
chapels of our Lady of Europe and our Lady of Africa, that stand on
ilka shore, the wind veered round to the north-west, and we were
obliged to bear right away before it for well nigh a week, till we
had mony fears o' being blawn round Cape None, or getting into the
downhill currents, that bear ships away to the southern pole; or,
what is waur, being blown off the earth a'thegether: for the warld is
round, ye ken, just like my bonnet," continued this ancient mariner,
balancing the article named in his hands; "and flat, as ye may see,
for the sun dips down to port at night, and then comes up to
starboard in the morning, rising at the edge, like this penny piece.
Weel, ye wad flee owre its margin if ye stood on owre long wi' your
canvas set, and so be launched out into space like a hoodie craw.
The ship o' auld Sir Patrick Spens was ance a' owre but the waist,
when the current swept her back again, and then she hauled her wind.
At last we saw the high peak o' the Fortunate Isles rising frae the
sea, vomiting fire and brimstone, its side covered in one place wi'
glistening snow, in another wi' a forest o' green laurel bushes,
wherein the yellow birds o' the Canaries built their nests in the
warm sunshine.
"The gale deid awa, and the sails flapped against the masts and
rattlins; the sea became like glass, and there was sae little wind
that the _Peggie_ wouldna answer her helm; but it mattered little,
for Sir Andrew and auld Gibbie o' Crail had been in these seas
before, and we kent our whereabouts. We were within less than half a
mile o' the shore, but in fifty fathoms water by the line. There was
nae current, and the ship lay like a log, wi' her decks blistering in
the sun. Sir Andrew thought it wad be a gude time to get fresh
water, for our last pint was in the scuttlebutt; sae we hove up
twelve casks, the crews o' the yawl and pinnace were piped awa, and
cheerily we shipped our oars, and pulled for the shore, as I weel
mind, singing merrily the auld ballad,--
"'Oh, who is he has dune this deed,
And tauld the king o' me,
And sent us oot at this time o' year,
To sail upon the sea?'
Every man o' us had a durk and gude braid Banffshire whinger in his
belt, forbye ten that were armed wi' crossbows, for Sir Andrew kent
of auld that the Guanchos o' the Fortunate Isles were unchancey
chields to warsle wi'. Gibbie o' Crail, wha had served wi' the
Spanish buccaneers under the Captain Bocca Roxa (he whom Barton slew
off Cape Ortegal), tauld us that they had once landed there, and put
a hail village to fire and sword, and that wi' his ain hand he had
killed the prince o' the place by a slash _across the nose_ wi' his
boarding-axe.
"We landed at a sma' bit creek among black rocks, covered wi' ashes,
dust, and pumice-stane; but among them grew the green sugar-cane, the
olive, and the bonnie cotton-tree. The wee birds wi' their gouden
wings flew aboot frae branch to branch, singing in the bright
sunshine. A' the sweets o' summer were there, and they wiled mony o'
our messmates awa frae the wark o' filling and bunging the
water-casks to stray in the laurel woods that grow on the base o'
that tremendous peak, which is five leagues nigh frae the water-line
to the Deil's Cauldron on the tap, where the red brimstone burns day
and night. Ay, Jamie Gair, ye think muckle o' the craigs o'
Dunnotter; but I wish ye saw Adam's Peak, in the Fortunate Isles!
"The fresh water was delightful as milk, and the grapes that hung
owre the pumice-stane rocks were sweeter than heather honey; and sae,
despite Sir Andrew's orders, twa or three o' us, including Sandie
Mathieson, a Leith man, strayed a mile or mair into the island,
flinging our braid bonnets after the gouden birds, eating grapes and
wild honey in some places, tumbling knee-deep in soft sulphur and
spongy pumice-stane, until we found the entrance o' a cave, for a'
the warld like ane o' the weems in the Fife, and, sailor-like, we
scrambled in to see what was there, and my faith, messmates, we saw a
sicht to mind o'!
"In that cave were mair than twa hundred deid corpses, a rankit up in
rows against the walls; for it was a burial place for the Guanchos,
who, instead of putting their deid like Christians into a grave,
bathe and parboil them in butter and wild lavender, black gum and
wild sage--for sae Father Zuill told me; and after drying them in the
sunshine in summer, and the cauld breezes in winter, they sow them up
in goatskins, and then the mummies are hard as a ship's figure-head,
yea, and harder, for they will never decay; and there they stood, twa
hundred or mair, wi' their tanned visages and sichtless eyen, their
hair and beards all brushed and plaited, and as if they yet lived;
and oh, there was an awesome grin on their shrivelled maws!
"It was a sight even for a sailor to scunner at, and we glowered at
them for awhile, ilk ane o' us ashamed to be the first to put up his
helm and be off. At last Gibbie o' Crail, an auld sea-horse, that
feared nocht, and had mair owre a gude dram under his hatches, began
to examine them, in the hope of finding some braw goud or trinket;
and solemnly Mathieson and I warned him to let the deid corpses
alane; but he laughed, and tumbled them owre like nine-pins. There
was ane, a great stark and brawny corpse, wi' a lang scar across its
nose, and twa precious stanes, like emeralds, glinting where its eyen
should be. Gibbie said, wi' an oath, that he was sure it was the
prince o' the Guanchos, whom he had slain twenty years before, and
wi' a dab o' his jocketeleg, picked out one of the emeralds. But lo!
"At that moment the jaws opened, and there came frae them a yell that
shook the dust frae the cavern roof; that seemed to mak the corpses
start, and made Gibbie spring ten feet awa; and then we turned and
fled, wi' every hair on our heids bristling; and without ever daring
ance to look astern, we cam' plunging doon the side o' the peak,
through the laurel bushes and owre the sulphur banks, till we reached
the creek, where the yawl and the pinnace, wi' the last o' the
water-casks, were about putting off, and mair deid than alive wi'
terror, we sprang on board. We were just in time to reach the boats
and get a rope's-ending for disobeying orders; for though Sir Andrew
was but a skipper then, as I tauld ye, he kept a tight hand owre his
crew."
"May I drink bilge if ever I--" began the gunner.
"That evening a favourable breeze sprang up, and we bore away for
hame: but as the gloaming fell that breeze freshened to a gale, the
rain sowed the sea, and the red lightning flashed at the far horizon.
Gibbie, Mathieson, and I were on the first nicht-watch; we were
restless, and fearfu' o' coming evil, and we nestled in our storm
doublets under the lee o' the foremast; and though we would a' hae
fain spoken o' that awesome adventure, we never once referred to it;
but sat listening to the dreary wind, as it whistled under the leech
o' the foresail, or watching the waves that ran past us, like lang
black ridges o' ink. A' at ance an unco blast took us a' aback! Sir
Andrew jumped on deck in a moment, and ordered us to double-reef the
mainsail and fore topsail; and after this it became sae dark and
eerie, that we couldna see a crossbow-shot ahead.
"Amid the soughin' o' the wind and the hiss o' the waves we heard a
strange cry rising from that terrible sea--a cry that made our blood
curdle! We rushed to the weather-bow, and after a time could discern
a man's head, as he rose at times, bobbing like a fisherman's float
upon the crests of the foaming ocean, or as he sank doon into its
gloomy trough; but again and again the eldritch cry went past us on
the gusty wind.
"'A man overboard!' cried Sir Andrew through his trumpet; 'and in sic
a sea! Forecastle there--see ye anything, lads?'
"I kenna what possessed us, but none o' us made any answer. To back
the foreyard or render any assistance were, we thought, impossible;
but Sir Andrew, wha does mony a thing other men would never think o',
on hearing the first cry, knotted a line to a handspike, and getting
a glimpse o' the man in the water as he was swept past our bows,
flung it right at him like a harpoon, and we saw him catch it--yea,
almost without an effort, as it seemed. Then the starboard watch,
who had come on deck, towed him aboard, and he cam' up the ship's
side by the main chains, like a cat or a squirrel, and stood dripping
wet among us, a strong and sturdy child, wi' a brown skin, and grisly
and matted hair. Gibbie held up a ship's lantern to tak' a view o'
his face, and then I saw that he was almost bare bones, brawn, and
skin, wi' a long scar _across his nose_, and but one eye, that
glittered like green glass, while the other socket was _empty_, like
a walnut-shell. We felt as if the deck would open under our teet,
for we knew it was the dead Guancho!
"I could feel puir Gibbie tremble as we slunk forward, leaving the
skipper and crew to question the stranger, whose answers satisfied
them, I suppose, but we couldna hear them for the lashing o' the sea
and roaring o' the wind, as it soughed through the rigging. A can o'
usquebaugh was offered to the Guancho, but he shook his head; and
then clothes were offered him, but he preferred his ain, a pair o'
goat-skin breeks with the hair on the outside. The wind shifted--the
squalls cam' oftener, and in a wee while Sir Andrew had stripped the
_Peggie_ to her staysail and trysail; we sounded the pumps, and had
twa men at the tiller; all hands were on deck, and though the crew
muttered doubtfully and fearfully under their beards to ilk other
anent the strange loon that had come on board in sic weather, there
were none that shared the terror o' Sandie, Gibbie, and mysel', for
in our hearts we kent that a deid corpse was sailing wi' us on that
mirk midnight sea, and that the ship and a' its companie were doomed!
The wind was still roaring, and about three bells in the middle-watch
the staysail gave way, and I heard Sir Andrew shout through his
trumpet,--
"'Yare, yare, my lads! down wi' the staysail--bend on the sheet and
right it again.'
"We three rushed to obey the order, but the ship broached to, and
before we could recover her again, and while that devilish Guancho
uttered an eldritch yell, a sea took her right on the broadside, and
burst over the decks, sweeping boats, booms, scuttlebutt, skylights,
and four men overboard; but the masts o' pine frae Falkland Woods
stood brawly, and then we let her drive before the storm. We were
certain the _Peggie_ was a doomed ship now, unless we got rid o' the
fiend that was aboard o' her; and we three consulted in what manner
it should be dune. As yet the nicht was dark as pitch tar; no' a ray
o' light was glimmering, and we saw the Guancho standing by the
weather fore-rigging, wi' his one eye shining at times like a green
star. Gibbie, who was a ferocious auld buckie, proposed to gie him a
cloure wi' a capstan-bar, or a dab wi' his durk, while we should
chuck him overboard; and wi' our hearts fu' o' fear and hatred, we
resolved upon this, for we dreaded sairly lest our crew should be
washed awa man by man, and we be left alane wi' the Guancho, and led
to destruction. It was an unco wild night, and noo the lightning
glinted between the scudding clouds breaking sea wi' a green and
ghastly glare.
"Wi' muckle o' fear and mair o' desperation in our hearts, we drew
near the Guancho, who stood by the gunnel grinning at the passing
waves. None could see us, either forward or aft, for the crew were
busy enough, and kept aloof frae the stranger.
"'Heave, Gibbie, heave, and wi' a will!' cried I, as I grasped him by
the breeks. Gibbie took his heels, and we shot him richt owre into
the deep black trough o' the hungry sea; and then on swept the ship,
like a shot frae a culver in, and as if relieved o' half her cargo.
"'Mony hands mak licht wark,' said Sandie.
"'But the Lord forgie us if we hae dune wrang,' quo' I, taking off my
bonnet at His name.
"'Wrang!' growled Gibbie; 'wrang to drown a deid man! I could swear
that his ankles were but dry banes as I hove him owre the bulwark.'
"The _Peggie_ laboured hard and creaked in a' her timbers, the wind
howled, and now a wave like Ailsa Craig came roaring after her.
"'Beware, my lads, beware fore and aft!' cried Sir Andrew through his
trumpet. The three of us grasped the starboard rattlins, and at that
moment another heavy sea poured like a torrent owre the decks o' the
_Peggie_. Our mate, Mathieson's brother, and another seaman were
swept away; for a time, the ship trembled and was settling down. By
my life, had one more wave like that rolled on her, she had gane doon
into the trough and never risen mair; but the water ran off her; she
swam like a duck, and again shot on, though the foresail was
splitting to ribbons.
"'St. Clement be near us!' whispered Gibbie. 'Look, Archy--look
Sandy!' and there, just where we had pitched him owerboard, was the
Guancho, standing by the starboard gunnel, grinning and laughing as
before. Naebody on deck had missed him, and nane but oursels kent
that the same sea which had swept awa our mate, had washed the
storm-fiend on board again.
"Towards morning the gale subsided, and the grey daylicht cam in
through a mirk and louring sky, to brighten a rowing sea. We were
cheerless and sad. The men muttered among themsels, and were aye in
pairs, keeping aloof frae their unco shipmate; and even Sir Andrew
liked him but little, and promised that he should be set upon the
first land we came to. For five days we drifted about, and wist not
where we were; for, as the sun was hidden, our captain couldna win an
observation wi' the cross-staff. He asserted that we were blown
right out into the Atlantic, where never ship sailed before; but
Gibbie, wha kent these seas o' auld, averred that we would sune mak
the coast o' Mogadore, which belonged to the king o' the Moors. Yet
our brave captain proved to be right.
"For these five days and nights, the Guancho did nocht else but mope
about the deck, and grin whenever Gibbie cam near him; but our men
worked hard to repair the damage o' the gale. We bent on four new
sails, reeved some o' the rigging anew, shipped a new foretopmast,
and, after taking an observation, bore away for Madeira.
"Gibbie aye gied the Guancho a wide berth on deck, and kept as much
aloft as possible. For three hail days he sat perched in the
craw's-nest; and three times I took the tiller for him at night, as
he was ever in mortal terror when the awesome thing cam nigh him. We
crowded every stitch o' canvas, carrying mair o' nights than the
skipper kent o'; and twice nearly ran the _Peggie_ under water, in
our eagerness to reach the land. A this time the Guancho ate little
or nocht, but a grain or sae o' maize; and mony o' our men, wha,
owercome wi' weariness, had slept on their watch, had frightfu'
dreams, and averred that the Guancho pressed their throats in the
night and sucked their blood; for they fand bite-marks about their
necks in the morning;--but then the _Peggie_ was swarming wi' Norway
rottens. The terror increased; men spoke in whispers; and day by
day, this awsome Guancho sat in the lee scuppers, motionless as if
deid, and only moved and girned when Gibbie drew near or passed it,
which he aye did sidelong, wi' his hand on his durk; and three times
the thing pointed to his eyeless socket, from whilk Gibbie had howked
the shining stane.
"On the fifth night o' this horrid voyage, Mathieson and I had the
foretop. We were on the look-out for land. The _Peggie_ was going
free, about eight knots or sae; and having now to take his helm,
Gibbie stood by the binnacle, and, Gude kens, we watched the deck
mair than the horizon for four hours o' that dreary night. The
Guancho sat, as usual, in the lee scuppers, and a wet berth it was.
About the middle-watch, we saw him rise and creep towards Gibbie,
whose een were fixed on the sails--for he was a gude steersman, and
aye loed to keep them full. I think I see him noo, as he stood wi'
his siller hair and red face glinting in the light o' the binnacle
lamps; his feet planted firm on the deck, and his hands gripping the
lion's head that was carved on the tiller-end; and he sawna the fiend
that drew nigh him!
"'Deck ho!' I shouted. 'Gibbie, man--mind yoursel!' but the wind
swept my cry to leeward; and a' at ance the Guancho sprang upon the
puir helmsman--there was a despairing cry, an eldritch yell, and the
demon dashed him against the larboard stanchions, a breathless and a
brainless corpse.
"Wi' the wild cry that rose frae the deck, a' was owre!
"Unhanded, the tiller swayed frae side to side; the vessel fell awa
round like lightning; her canvas was a' taen aback, and her topmasts
went crash to leeward by the caps. We were a wreck in a moment.
"In a trice Sir Andrew was on deck. Sandy and I cam doon the
backstay by the run, and 'out hatchets' was the word, to dear us of
the wreck; and under the foresail, mainsail, and gib, we entered the
roads of Funchal, and anchored off the Castle of St. James, to refit,
procure fresh water, Madeira, hock, and provisions."
"But what o' this deevil wi' the green ee?" asked Willie Wad,
impatiently.
"Anger got the better o' our fear. We sprang upon him the moment the
ship was safe; a desperate tulzie began, for every blow o' his bony
hands was like a cloure frae a smith's hammer, and he knocked our
best men owre like ninepins; his eldritch yells were like the
whistling wind, and he laughed and kicked, when at last we laid him
sprawling on the deck, and, while our hearts boiled wi' fear and
fury, lashed him hard and fast by neck and heels to ringbolts. Some
proposed to heave him overboard, wi' a shot at his craig, but Sir
Andrew wouldna hear o' that; and as soon as we dropped anchor at
Funchal, the Guancho was handed owre to the Dominicans and the
Commander of the Order of Christ, who put him in a vault o' the
Castle of St. James, to thole a trial for sorcery and murder. Our
story filled a' Funchal wi' terror and consternation. A lang
procession o' Dominican Fathers, carrying relics, crosses, banners,
and holy-water pots, marched to the Castle o' St. James, to exorcise
the demon; and the holy-water, when it fell frae the asperges on his
brown hide, hissed as if it sputtered on iron in a white heat, and he
girned at the priests like a marmoset. At last, finding that
exorcism and blessed water were used alike in vain, the Portuguese
Dominicans and the Knights of Christ betuik themsels to prayer, and
after solemn high mass is the great church, visited the Guancho again.
"They found him free o' his fetters, and laughing like a wild imp,
while he gied the finishing strokes to a great galley or boat, which
he had chalked, wi' its sails set, and twenty rowers at their
paddles, on his dungeon wall. They marvelled sairly at this strange
employment, for one wha's funeral fire stood burning in the castle
yard; but a glamour was owre them, and nane dared approach him.
"Then the brown deevil drew the waves below the galley sae lifelike,
that _they_ seemed to roll and _it_ to heave, while the rowers began
to paddle, and a low wild chant was heard, as they a paddled and kept
time. Then he drew a ladder, wi' two perpendicular strokes and sax
horizontal ones; and then he _stepped on board_, wi' anither o' his
eldritch yells. The rowers began to paddle harder than ever, and
while their sang died awa, it sailed clean off the wall wi' him, and
left ne'er a trace behind.
"A Knight of Christ sprang forward, but the place was empty, clear o'
its evil tenant, and no a vestige o' the fairy-ship remained upon the
dungeon wall. Noo, what think ye o' _that_ story, messmates?"
"By my faith, I would rather drink bilge a' my days than once sail
the sea wi' a deevil in the ship's companie," said Willie Wad.
"Puir Gibbie o' Crail ended his life as I told ye, and sleeps in his
hammock among the mermaids," said the boatswain, rising from the
gun-carriage; "but Sandy, our messmate, hath left me a lang way
astern, for he is now Sir Alexander Mathieson, Knight--_the King of
the Sea_, and captain o' yonder gallant caravel, while I am only auld
Archy the boatswain. And, see, yonder his barge is shoved off frae
the Craig o' St. Nicholas, and pulled straight for the _Queen
Margaret_."
"Which shows that the king's council maun e'en be owre, and 'tis time
I were awa to the Admiral," said Jamie Gair, as through an open
gun-port, the gilded boat referred to, was seen to leave the rock of
St. Nicholas, with a banner waving at its stern, where three or four
gentlemen, wearing rich dresses, were seated; and, with sixteen
bright-bladed oars flashing in the meridian sun, it was pulled across
the shining river directly towards the consort of the _Yellow
Frigate_.