All through the night, and until nearly noon next day, were we compelled
to continue scudding before the gale; and a pretty crew of scarecrows we
looked when the morning at length dawned and disclosed us to each
other's vision, drenched to the skin with flying spray, haggard and
red-eyed with fatigue and the want of sleep, and each wearing that
peculiar and indescribable expression of countenance that marks the man
who has been face to face for hours with imminent death. But about four
bells in the forenoon watch the gale suddenly broke, the sky cleared,
and the wind moderated so rapidly that just before noon, by carefully
watching our opportunity, we were at length able to round-to and once
more ride to our makeshift sea anchor. Then, the boat riding dry--that
is to say, shipping no water--we baled her out, and next proceeded to
overhaul our stock of provisions, with the object of ascertaining what
damage, if any, it had sustained through the constant drenching of the
seas to which we had been exposed. Our bread--or biscuit--and water
were all that we were really anxious about, the remainder being packed
in tins, jars, or bottles, and it was a great relief to us to find that,
thanks to the precautions which we had taken, nothing had suffered to
any very serious extent.
Then I went to work to calculate our position as nearly as I could,
although the roughness of my data rendered it exceedingly difficult to
arrive anywhere near the mark; but at length, by patient and careful
figuring, I reached the exceedingly unsatisfactory conclusion that not
only had we lost all the ground previously gained, but we were somewhere
about thirty miles south of the spot where Bainbridge had sent us
adrift!
And then our thoughts turned to the longboat, and we began to ask
ourselves and each other how she had fared. We were still afloat, it is
true, but only because of our long-continued and almost superhuman
exertions, while our boat was an exceptionally good one and by no means
overloaded. How it would be with our consort, overcrowded with
helpless, terror-stricken women and children, and perilously deep in the
water, we scarcely dared to think; for, with the recollection of what we
had recently passed through still vivid in our minds, we had little
difficulty in conjuring up a very graphic picture of what would be the
state of affairs aboard the longboat under the same circumstances. Of
course there was the possibility that, more fortunate than ourselves,
she had been seen and her party rescued by a passing ship; but, failing
that, we felt that we dared not entertain the slightest hope that she
still survived. No good end, however, was to be served by speculating
upon the possibilities of disaster to our friends. We therefore
proceeded to get a meal as soon as we had straightened up matters as far
as was possible; and while we ate and drank we discussed the important
question of what we should do next. Our recent experiences had been of
such a character as to convince us that our prospects of reaching Rio
before our stock of provisions should be consumed--if ever--were
exceedingly slight. On the other hand, we had already had ocular
demonstration of the fact that we were not far from the track of
south-bound craft; we therefore eventually arrived unanimously at the
conclusion that, taking all things into consideration, the best thing we
could do was to cruise to the northward, in the hope that within the
next few days we should be fortunate enough to fall in with some vessel
the skipper of which would be humane enough to pick us up and perhaps
land us at the nearest port.
It was so near sunset before the sea moderated sufficiently to enable us
again to make sail that we ultimately determined to remain as we were,
riding to our sea anchor all night, in order that all hands might have
the opportunity to secure a good night's rest before resuming our battle
with wind and sea. For after all, now that we had definitely abandoned
the idea of attempting to make Rio, or indeed any part of the South
American coast, it did not greatly matter whether we were under way or
not; a ship was just as likely to come along and find us where we then
were as anywhere else. And although we had resolved to take a night's
rest before resuming our struggle, we of course intended to keep an
anchor watch of one hand, who would look after the weather and the boat
and also otherwise maintain a sharp lookout, so that, in the event of a
sail heaving in sight, she should not be permitted to slip past us
without an effort on our part to intercept her.
The night passed uneventfully, wind and sea gradually moderating all
through the hours of darkness, until, by the dawn of the following day,
both had so far gone down that we could once more make sail upon the gig
with perfect safety. It is true that there was still a rather heavy
swell running, but even that was fast diminishing, and there was no sea
to speak of, the wind being of the strength known to sailors as a
"royal" breeze, that is to say, a wind of so moderate a force that a
ship of ordinary size could show her royals to it.
The sailmaker's watch ended a few minutes after sunrise, and when he
called the rest of us our first business was to wash the sleep out of
our eyes by dipping our heads into a bucket of clear, sparkling salt
water, dipped up from over the side; after which we proceeded to perform
our toilets as well as our very limited resources permitted, the next
thing in order being breakfast. And while this was being prepared--the
preparation consisting merely in the apportioning to each individual of
his just and proper allowance of food--Simpson shinned up to the
masthead to take a look round the horizon, and thus enable us to get the
earliest possible intimation of the approach of a ship, should one
chance to be in our neighbourhood.
The man had scarcely reached his perch--which, after all, was only about
six feet above our heads when we stood up--when he emitted a joyous yell
of:
"Sail ho! Hurrah, my bullies, here she comes, pretty nigh straight down
for us, if these eyes of mine ain't deceivin' of me!"
"What do you make her out to be, Sails?" I demanded.
"Can't tell yet, sir," answered Simpson. "All as I can see just at
present is the head of a--well, it may be a royal, or it may be the head
of the to'garns'l of a schooner. And I'm inclined to think it's a
schooner, because it looks sharp and clear like, as though it wasn't so
very far off. Yes, I reckon that there blessed bit of white ain't much
more'n ten mile away."
"And how does she bear?" I asked.
"Dead to wind'ard as ever she can be," was the cheering reply. "And
headin' for us just as straight as she can come. Hurrah, my buckos!
There's no mistake about it this time; she's boun' to pick us up, unless
she happens to be another of them there puddin'-headed Portugees what
don't seem to believe in pickin' up pore shipwrecked mariners," Sails
ended, with a sudden note of disgust in his voice.
"Portugee or no Portugee, she will pick us up; I'll see to that," said
I. "We'll not give her the chance to refuse; we'll just lie doggo where
we are until she is within a mile or two of us, and then we'll up lug
and run her aboard, whether her people like it or not."
"Ay, ay, that's your sort, Mr Temple," agreed the boatswain. "No more
slippin' past and wavin' hands for me; if they don't want to pick us up,
we'll just have to make 'em, that's all. I've had enough of boat
sailin' to last me for the rest of me bloomin' life, and enough of
sleepin' on thwarts, too. I means to sleep in a dry fo'c'sle to-night
in spite of all the Portugee swines in creation."
"All right, Simpson," I hailed. "You had better come down now and get
your breakfast. By the time that we have finished, yonder craft will be
visible to all of us, and then we shall be able to judge what is best to
be done."
We made a good hearty breakfast that morning, both eating and drinking a
little more than our strict allowance, I am afraid, for we all seemed to
be possessed of the same undoubted conviction that, with the appearance
of the stranger to windward, our troubles were now all over, and that
therefore the necessity to husband our limited resources carefully no
longer existed.
The strange sail appeared to be a fairly fast craft, for before we had
quite finished our breakfast the head of her canvas appeared above the
horizon to us, even though we were still sitting upon the thwarts, and
we immediately brought Cunningham's telescope to bear upon her. The
first glimpse that I caught of her through the lenses satisfied me that
she was a small vessel, the quickness and violence of her movements--for
she was rolling heavily--bearing unmistakable evidence of that fact; and
ten minutes later we discovered her to be topsail-schooner rigged. She
was evidently making the utmost of the fair wind, for she had topmast
and lower studdingsails set on both sides; and she was coming dead down
the wind direct for us. We waited patiently where we were until she had
risen hull-up, revealing herself through the telescope as a very
handsome, smart-looking little schooner, with very white sails, which
looked as though made of cotton canvas; and then we got our sea anchor
inboard, cast the oars adrift in readiness for instant use should we
need them, and got under way, working the boat to and fro in short tacks
immediately athwart the schooner's hawse, while Simpson stood on a
thwart to windward, waving a rag to attract attention, the boatswain
meanwhile keeping the telescope steadfastly bearing upon the approaching
craft.
We had just tacked for the second time when Murdock, with his eyes still
glued to the telescope, shouted:
"They see us! they see us! There's a couple of chaps standin' by her
starboard cathead lookin' at us under the sharp of their hands. And now
one of 'em has turned round and is looking aft; he's reportin' of us to
the hofficer of the watch, he is--I can see him hollerin' with one hand
to the side of his mouth while he p'ints with the other. Yes; and now
there's another chap runnin' for'ard to join the first two; he'll be the
mate, I reckon--or p'rhaps the skipper. And now the third man's lookin'
at us too. Keep on wavin', Sails; don't let there be no mistake about
what we wants. The third man's runnin' aft again. He's goin' to call
the Old Man, I reckon." A pause of about half a minute ensued, and then
the boatswain resumed:
"No, he ain't; he's gone aft to get his glass. Yes, that's it; and now
he's bringin' it to bear upon us. Wave, Sails, wave, you skowbank, for
all you're worth. Yes; that's--Hurrah! it's all right, bullies, they're
not agoin' to leave us behind; they're chaps of the right sort, they
are! See that, Mr Temple? There's in stuns'ls; they're agoin' to
shorten sail and round-to, to pick us up. But they seem to be
thunderin' short-handed. They'll be past us and away to loo'ard long
afore they can get them stuns'ls in. Better bear up and run down afore
it, hadn't we, sir, so's not to keep 'em waitin'?"
The suggestion was a good one, for they had at least two studdingsails--
those set on the starboard side--to take in before they could round-to,
and from the rate at which they were getting the first in I could see
that, as Murdock had said, the little vessel would run past us before
they could get in the other. So I put up the helm and bore away, easing
off the sheet, and when we were running off square before the wind I
began to edge the boat gradually in toward the line of the schooner's
course. By this manoeuvre we gave them a little more time to shorten
sail, since we were still about a mile ahead of them and were now
travelling in the same direction as themselves, although the schooner
was fast overhauling us. But by the time that she was abreast of us,
and only about a hundred feet distant, both her starboard studdingsails
were in, and she was ready to round-to. Then a man came to the rail and
hailed us.
"Boat ahoy!" he shouted. "I guess you're shipwrecked, ain't you, and
want to be picked up."
"Ay, ay, sir," I answered; "that is so. May we run alongside?"
"Sure!" he replied heartily. "I'll come to the wind on the starboard
tack, when you can pass under my starn and come alongside at the lee
gangway."
I waved my hand by way of thanks and to show that I understood, and let
run the sheet of the lug to allow him to draw ahead and take room to
round-to; and presently he eased down his helm and brought the schooner
to the wind, keeping his yards square and hauling his jib sheets over to
windward to check the little vessel's way. We were thus afforded an
excellent view of the craft, and a little beauty she was, as clean built
and finely modelled as a yacht--for which, indeed, she might easily have
been mistaken, except for the fact that her sails were not big enough.
She was painted all black from her rail to her copper, with the bust of
a woman, painted white, for a figurehead, and the name _Martha Brown_,
with the word Baltimore--her port of registry--painted in white letters
on her stern. She appeared to be in little more than deep-ballast trim,
and I began to wonder whither she was bound even before we got alongside
her.
The getting alongside required a little management, for there was a fair
amount of swell running, and the schooner was rolling heavily; but we
managed it all right, and were met at the gangway, upon boarding the
little vessel, by the individual who had hailed us. He was a typical
Yankee, tall, thin, and somewhat cadaverous-looking as to features, with
a clean-shaven upper lip, a short goatee beard, and light hair, slightly
touched with grey, worn so long that it came down over the collar of his
coat, which was of faded blue cloth, adorned with brass buttons. His
trousers were braced up high enough to reveal his ankles, and he wore a
pair of ancient red morocco slippers upon his otherwise naked feet. His
head was adorned with a peakless cap of what looked like wolfskin,
fitted with a pair of flaps to tie down over the ears, but now fastened
together at the crown.
Although the man presented a distinctly quaint ensemble, there was a
genial, kindly twinkle in his eyes that caused me to take to him on the
spot as he extended his hand and said, with a slight drawl and a strong
Yankee accent:
"Walcome, strangers, to the _Marthy Brown_. I guess you've been havin'
a rough time by the looks of you. How long, now, have ye been knockin'
about in that boat?"
"This is our fifth day in her, Mr--er--er--" I answered.
"I reckon you're gropin' around after my name, Mister," he interrupted.
"It's Ephraim Brown--very ginerally razeed down to Eph by my friends--
and I'm master and owner of this here schooner, named a'ter my old woman
away back to Baltimore. I guess your name is--"
"Mark Temple," I hastened to reply. "My companions are respectively Mr
Edward Cunningham, late a cuddy passenger aboard the British barque
_Zenobia_--of which vessel I was one of the apprentices; William
Murdock, boatswain; Joseph Parsons, carpenter; and James Simpson,
sailmaker, all of the same ship."
"I'm downright glad to meet you all," replied Mr Ephraim Brown, shaking
hands all round again with much cordiality. Then he stepped to the
taffrail and looked down at the gig, which had been passed astern.
"I guess that's a very tidy-lookin' boat of yourn, and there don't seem
to be nothin' partic'lar the matter with her. I reckon she's quite
worth hoistin' in, ain't she, Mister?" he remarked.
"Yes, indeed she is," I replied. "She has brought us safely through
some pretty heavy weather, and I should be very sorry to see her cast
adrift."
"Cast adrift nothin'! That ain't old Eph Brown's way," retorted the
skipper briskly. "Is she very heavy?"
"On the contrary, she is an exceedingly light boat when empty," I
replied.
"Ah!" remarked my interlocutor. "Then I guess we'll have all that
stuff--your stock of provisions, I reckon--out of her, and then we'll
unship the lee gangway and run her inboard fisherman fashion. It'll be
quicker than riggin' tackles; and I'm in an almighty big hurry." He
faced forward and hailed a couple of his men. "You, Sam and Pete, lay
aft here and lend a hand to get the stuff out of this boat."
"But there is no need to trouble your people, Captain," I interrupted.
"We will empty her ourselves in a brace of shakes. Murdock and Chips,
just jump down into the gig and pass those things out of her. Haul her
close up under the counter, and we will pass you down a rope's end over
the taffrail to sling them to."
"Yes, I guess that'll do the trick," agreed the skipper. "And you, Sam
and Pete," he continued, turning to the two men who still lingered,
"turn-to and unship the lee gangway, ready to run the boat inboard when
she's cleared. We'll stow her, right side up, alongside of the
longboat."
A quarter of an hour later saw the gig hauled inboard and snugly stowed,
after which the _Martha Brown_ was kept away upon her course and the
studdingsails were rehoisted, our boatswain, carpenter, and sailmaker
lending a hand, while Cunningham and I remained aft, chatting with our
new friend. As the last rope was belayed the skipper stepped to the
skylight, peered down through it, and then turned and struck eight
bells. Almost immediately afterward a lad emerged from the cabin
companion, went forward to the little galley, and presently reappeared
bearing a large covered dish in one hand and a capacious coffee-pot in
the other.
"Aha!" exclaimed Brown, smacking his lips in anticipation, "breakfast;
and I guess it smells good. Now I reckon that you 'uns have been upon
pretty short commons this last few days, and'll be in good shape to
enj'y a square meal. I guess you two'll have to mess in the cabin along
o' me; the hands for'ard'll look a'ter the rest of your crowd."
At the skipper's invitation Cunningham and I forthwith followed him
below to an exceeding small but very comfortable cabin, upon the tiny
table of which was set out a quite unexpectedly enticing meal, to which
Brown helped us both with most hospitable liberality. For a little
while we ate and drank in silence; but presently, when we had taken the
keen edge off our appetites, our kindly host asked for details of the
circumstances under which we had come to be knocking about in mid-ocean
in an open boat.
"Waal, I'll be sugared!" he ejaculated, after I had related to him in
detail the incidents connected with the seizure of the _Zenobia_ by her
crew, under the leadership of Bainbridge; "if that don't beat
everything! And you say that the skunk means to set up in business as a
pirate? But is this here barque of yourn armed? Do she mount any guns?
Because, if she don't, how do that crowd of toughs reckon they're goin'
to hold up and rob a ship?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I haven't the slightest notion," I replied;
"but, knowing Bainbridge so well as I do, I have no doubt that he has a
scheme of some sort in his head."
"Waal," agreed the skipper, "if he's pretty cute he may p'rhaps bluff a
skipper or two; but I guess he'll very soon be euchred--a man-o'-war'll
nab him afore he can say `Jack Robinson'. And now," he continued,
"about you 'uns. From things said while you was spinnin' that yarn of
the mutiny I seemed to get a sort of notion that you'd like me to put ye
ashore as soon as possible. Is that the idee?"
"Precisely," I said. "Mr Cunningham, here, naturally wishes to return
to England with as little delay as may be; and as for myself, I am
equally anxious, because, until I can get into touch with the owners of
the _Zenobia_, and be placed by them in another ship, I am losing time."
"I see," commented the skipper meditatively; "yes, I reckon I kinder
understand the situation. By the by, did you say, just now, that you
was a purty good navigator, or did I only fancy it?"
"I don't remember having exactly said such a thing," I replied; "but
possibly I may have implied as much. Anyhow, I think I am justified in
saying that I am navigator enough to take a ship from any one part of
the world to any other."
"Ah!" returned the skipper; "I had an idee that I'd understood as much.
Now, then, just listen to me. I guess I can't put ye ashore until we
arrives at Punta Arenas, away down there in the Magellan Straits,
because the solid fact is that I'm in a most tarnation, all-fired hurry
to get into the Pacific. Of course I'll be very willin' to tranship ye
into a homeward-bounder, if we happens to fall in with one--and you
really wants to go. But I've been thinkin' matters over a bit while
we've been talkin', and I've a proposition to make that maybe'll suit ye
just as well as goin' back to the old country. I s'pose you've noticed
that I haven't got nary a mate with me?"
"Well," I confessed, "to tell you the truth, I've been wondering how it
is that I have not yet seen him."
"You ha'n't seen him because I guess he ain't here to see," remarked the
skipper. "I been unfort'nit in the matter o' mates this trip," he
continued. "My reg'lar mate what always sails with me is my nevvy,
Abr'am Brown, as slick a youngster as ever I wish to see. But he met
with an accident the day before we sailed; trod on a banana peel, fell
awk'ardly, broke his right leg, had to go to the hospital, and I had to
look round in a hurry for somebody to take his place. Got a chap that
looked all right; but we hadn't been to sea above forty-eight hours when
he made a bad break--got so tarnation drunk that I couldn't get him out
of his bunk for a night and a day. And a'ter that he kept on soakin' on
the sly--though where he got the liquor from I couldn't find out to save
my life--until things come to such a pass that if it hadn't been that I
was in such a tarnation hurry I'd have put in somewhere and fired him.
Wisht I had, now. But I didn't; and the end of it was that he went
crazy, jumped overboard, and was drowned, one dark night when we'd been
out just three weeks.
"Now, my proposition is this. You look real smart, and are a good
navigator, while I'm short of a mate. If you care to accept the
position I'll sign ye on at the same rate of pay--namely, thirty dollars
a month--that the other chap was gettin'. Now, what d'ye say?"
"But I don't even know yet where you are bound for, or what is the
probable duration of the voyage," I objected. "Naturally I should like
to know these particulars before binding myself."
"Sure," agreed the skipper, in nowise offended at my apparent
hesitation. "Well then," he continued, "I'm boun' for a certain spot in
the Pacific, for a certain very partic'lar reason: and if you agree to
sign on I'll tell ye the reason, and just exactly where the spot is; but
if you don't sign on it won't matter to you where I'm goin', or what I'm
out after. That's one of the reasons for this here v'yage. T'other is
to trade off a lot of truck what I've got down below, for sandalwood.
And when I've got a full cargo of the wood I propose to go on to Canton,
sell it, and buy tea with the proceeds; said tea to be sold in due
course at New York, where the v'yage will end. And I reckon that the
trip'll run into all of eight or nine months."
"And a jolly fine trip it will be," remarked Cunningham. "I wish I had
your chance, Temple; I would take it like a shot."
"You don't say?" remarked the skipper, eyeing Cunningham earnestly.
"But then, you see, you ain't a sailor," he observed.
"No, that is very true," returned Cunningham. "By profession I am a
civil engineer. But I am also a keen yachtsman; and I know something
more than the rudiments of navigation. But of course," he added
hastily, "I have not the qualifications which would fit me for the berth
that you are offering to Temple."
"N-o; I reckon not," agreed the skipper meditatively. "Still--p'rhaps I
might be able to find a use for ye--if ye cared to come along--upon such
terms as I could see my way to offer ye."
"Well," remarked Cunningham, with a laugh, "we can discuss that later
on--if Temple accepts your offer."
Meanwhile I had been thinking rapidly. There was no very especial
reason why I should return to England at once, for I had no relatives to
be anxious over my disappearance, the only individuals who were in the
least interested in me being my late father's trustees, to whom I could
write from Punta Arenas. Then the voyage of the _Martha Brown_, as
sketched by her skipper, rather appealed to me; sandalwood collecting
meant a call at several of the South Sea Islands, and the South Sea
Islands and romance were synonymous terms with me at that time. Also,
the pay was good, exceptionally good for such a berth as that of mate of
a ninety-ton schooner; and although I should probably sacrifice my
indentures, that was a matter that gave me very little concern.
Altogether I felt very strongly disposed to close with Brown's offer,
the only really serious obstacle in the way being the fact that I felt I
had a duty to perform to the three seamen who had formed part of our
little company in the gig. First-rate fellows they were, all three of
them, knowing their vocation to its smallest detail, and thoroughly at
home aboard a ship in blue water, though ashore they were as guileless
and helpless as babes, ready to fall an easy prey to the first land
shark that got scent of them. If I could be sure of arranging at Punta
Arenas for their conveyance to England, either as shipwrecked seamen or
otherwise, and thus discharging my responsibility so far as they were
concerned, I would not hesitate for a moment. I decided to put the
matter to the skipper, and did so, there and then.
"Ah!" he said, "I was goin' to speak to you about them there men of
yourn. D'ye think they'd be inclined to sign on with me for this here
v'yage?"
"Really, I do not know in the least," I replied, regarding him with
astonishment. "If you like I will--"
"It's like this, you see," he interrupted me, no doubt observing my look
of surprise. "There's six hands in this here schooner's fo'c'sle--three
to each watch; and when I shipped 'em I reckoned that with me, the mate,
the cook, and the cabin boy there'd be plenty of us for all the work
we'd have to do. But just when we was startin'--we was actually castin'
off the warps at the time--a letter was handed to me that, bein' busy
just then, I put into my pocket and forgot all about until a couple of
days a'terwards, when we'd cleared Cape Henry and was fairly out to sea.
Then, while I was goin' through my pockets, huntin' for something else,
I comes across this here letter, and opened it. And I tell you, Mister,
that there was news in it that made me sit up and feel mighty anxious
all of a sudden to get away round to the Pacific as quick as possible.
And it made me feel, too, that I wisht I had three or four more men
along. So if your chaps are willin' to sign on with me I'll be glad to
have 'em. Pay--well, they're good men, you tell me--say, twenty a
month."
I glanced forward and saw that all three of the men were on deck,
smoking, and chatting with the two hands who, with the man at the wheel,
constituted the watch.
"They are on deck, I see," said I. "If you like I will mention your
proposal to them, and see how they take it."
"I'll take it very kindly if you will, Mister," answered the skipper;
and without more ado I beckoned them to join me in the waist, where I
laid the skipper's offer before them, while the Old Man himself and
Cunningham remained chatting animatedly together close by the companion,
where much of the foregoing conversation had taken place upon our
adjournment from the breakfast table.
I soon found that, with the careless, happy-go-lucky temperament of the
British merchant sailor, all three men were perfectly willing to ship
for the voyage--about which they had already heard something from the
forecastle hands with whom they had been fraternising--especially when I
told them that I had been offered the position of mate and felt strongly
disposed to accept it; and accordingly I led them aft there and then,
and informed the skipper that we all accepted his offer, and without
further ado we went below and signed articles.
When, after signing, we all returned to the deck, and the three English
seamen had gone forward, Cunningham came up to me and said, laughingly:
"You will be interested to learn, Temple, that our worthy friend here,
Captain Brown, has also offered me a post, which I have accepted. As
nearly as I can define it, the position is that of honorary second mate;
it carries with it no pay, but in lieu of that I am to be perfectly free
to leave the schooner whenever I please, and am to live in the cabin,
receive cabin rations, and obtain, free of cost, an entirely new outfit
of clothes from the slop chest. What do you think of my bargain?"
"I consider it a very fair one," said I, "with perhaps a slight
advantage in favour of the skipper. For although of course he could
doubtless do perfectly well without you, your grub and a new rig-out
will not cost him very much; and in return for that he will get--as long
as you choose to remain with us--the ability to sleep in all night with
a perfectly easy mind: for I can assure the captain," and I here turned
to that individual, who was standing by, intently listening to all that
was said, "that although you are not a professional seaman you are quite
sailor enough to take care of this schooner during your watch. Also you
are a man of intellect and education, well-read, musical, and with an
inexhaustible fund of intensely interesting conversation, so that I
think Captain Brown will find in you a very agreeable companion."
"Ay, ay, you've just hit it, Temple," cut in the skipper. "That's just
what I thought when I was listenin' to you two fellers talkin' at
breakfast-time. Says I to myself: `Now, here's two chaps with the
speech and manners of gentlefolks, chaps as can hold their own with
anybody when it comes to talkin', and yet they're sailors too--at least
one of 'em is; and if you, Eph Brown, what have never had no more
eddication than what you could pick up, could only persuade them two to
jine yer in this here v'yage, you'd have such a chance as you've never
had before to learn gentlefolks' manners, to talk proper, and ginerally
to comport yourself in such a fashion as'd make your dear old Marthy fit
to bust herself with pride to see and hear ye when ye get back home
again, 'specially as you hopes to strike it rich this trip.' So there
you are, gents: you can call me Cap'n as often as you likes--it sounds
good, and makes me feel as though I was some punkins--but otherwise I'd
like you to talk to me and behave to me just as if we was all eq'als;
and whenever you hear me makin' a bad slip up in the matter of language,
I'll take it very kindly of ye if you'll just pull me up with a round
turn and p'int out where I've gone wrong."
It was rather an amusing proposal, certainly, for a shipmaster to make
to his officers, but the old fellow was so transparently frank in
recognising his shortcomings, and so earnestly anxious to have them
remedied, that both Cunningham and I entered quite heartily into the
spirit of the thing, and readily undertook to do everything that lay in
our power to polish up his manners and speech in readiness for the
surprise which he proposed to spring upon his "dear old Marthy" upon his
return to Baltimore.