The crew had built for themselves a hut of specially large dimensions,
in which they nightly assembled all together round the fires, of which
there were two--one at either end. Some of the men told stories, some
sang songs, others played at draughts of amateur construction, and a
good many played the easy but essential part of audience.
The noise, of course, was tremendous, but they were used to that, and
minded it not. When, however, two of the men began to quarrel over
their game, with so much anger as to interrupt all the others, and draw
general attention to themselves, the thing became unbearable, and when
one called the other "a liar," and the other shouted with an oath,
"You're another," the matter reached a climax.
"Come, come, Dick Swan and Bob Crow," cried Grummidge, in a stern voice;
"you stop that. Two liars are too much in this here ship. One is one
too many. If you can't keep civil tongues in your heads, we'll pitch
you overboard."
"You mind your own business," gruffly replied Dick Swan, who was an
irascible man and the aggressor.
"That's just what I'll do," returned Grummidge, striding up to Swan,
seizing him by the collar, and hurling him to the other end of the room,
where he lay still, under the impression, apparently, that he had had
enough. "My business," said Grummidge, "is to keep order, and I mean to
attend to it. Isn't that so, boys?"
"No--yes--no," replied several voices.
"Who said `No'?" demanded Grummidge.
Every one expected to see Big Swinton step forward, but he did not. His
revenge was not to be gratified by mere insubordination. The man who
did at last step forward was an insignificant fellow, who had been
nicknamed Spitfire, and whose chief characteristics were self-will and
ill-nature. He did not lack courage, however, for he boldly faced the
angry ruler and defied him. Every one expected to see Spitfire follow
Dick Swan, and in similar fashion, but they were mistaken. They did not
yet understand Grummidge.
"Well, Spitfire, what's your objection to my keeping order?" he said, in
a voice so gentle that the other took heart.
"My objection," he said, "is that when you was appinted capting there
was no vote taken. You was stuck up by your own friends, an' that ain't
fair, an' I, for one, refuse to knuckle under to 'ee. You may knock me
down if you like, for I ain't your match by a long way, but you'll not
prove wrong to be right by doin' that."
"Well spoken, Master Spitfire!" exclaimed a voice from the midst of the
crowd that encircled the speakers.
"Well spoken, indeed," echoed Grummidge, "and I thank _you_, Master
Spitfire, for bringin' this here matter to a head. Now, lads," he
added, turning to the crowd, "you have bin wrong an' informal, so to
speak, in your proceedin's when you appinted me governor o' this here
colony. There's a right and a wrong in everything, an' I do believe,
from the bottom of my soul, that it's--that it's--that--well, I ain't
much of a dab at preaching as _you_ know, but what I would say is this--
it's right to do right, an' it ain't right for to do wrong, so we'll
krect this little mistake at once, for I have no wish to rule, bless
you! Now then, all what's in favour o' my bein' gov'nor, walk to the
end o' the room on my right hand, an' all who wants somebody else to
be--Spitfire, for instance--walk over to where Dick Swan is a-sittin'
enjo'in' of hisself."
Immediately three-fourths of the crew stepped with alacrity to the
right. The remainder went rather slowly to the left. "The Grummidges
has won!" cried Squill, amid hearty laughter.
The ruler himself made no remark whatever, but, seating himself in a
corner of the hut, resumed the game which had been interrupted, quite
assured that the game of insubordination was finally finished.
The day following that on which the reign of King Grummidge was
established, a new member of considerable interest was added to the
colony. Blaze, Stubbs, and Squill chanced to be out that day along the
shore. Squill, being in a meditative mood, had fallen behind his
comrades. They had travelled further than usual, when the attention of
the two in front was attracted by what seemed to them the melancholy
howling of a wolf. Getting their bows ready, they advanced with
caution, and soon came upon a sad sight--the dead body of a native,
beside which crouched a large black dog. At first they thought the dog
had killed the man, and were about to shoot it, when Stubbs exclaimed,
"Hold on! don't you see he must have tumbled over the cliff?"
A brief examination satisfied them that the Indian, in passing along the
top of the cliffs, had fallen over, and that the accident must have been
recent, for the body was still fresh. The dog, which appeared to be
starving, showed all its formidable teeth when they attempted to go near
its dead master. Presently Squill came up.
"Ah, boys," he said, "ye don't onderstand the natur' o' the baste--see
here."
Taking a piece of dried fish from his pocket, he went boldly forward and
presented it. The dog snapped it greedily and gulped it down. Squill
gave him another and another piece; as the fourth offering was presented
he patted the animal quietly on its head. The victory was gained. The
dog suffered them to bury its master, but for four days it refused to
leave his grave. During that time Squill fed it regularly. Then he
coaxed it to follow him, and at last it became, under the name of
Blackboy, a general favourite, and a loving member of the community.