IN WHICH PHIL MAKES A CRINGLE, AND VISITS THE CROSS-TREES.
At eight bells, or four in the morning, the port watch was relieved,
and I was permitted to sleep till half past seven, which is breakfast
time on board ship. We did not sit down at a table, with plates,
knives, forks, and spoons, but formed a circle around a kid of corned
beef and a pan of crackers. The bill of fare was salt junk and hard
tack. The starboard watch, which had been on deck from eight till
twelve, and from four till eight, were allowed to sleep in during the
forenoon; but after dinner all hands were required to be on deck, and
to work on sails, rigging, and chafing-gear.
"Phil Farringford, able seaman!" shouted the mate, who was busy setting
the men at work.
"Here, sir," I replied. "But I don't pretend to be an able seaman."
"Don't deny it any more. You are on the shipping articles as such, and
draw wages as an able seaman."
"I don't draw any wages, sir," I replied. "I have received no advance,
and I only agreed to work my passage to Palermo."
"I hope you will work your passage to Palermo; but I don't believe you
will in this vessel," chuckled he.
"That was all I agreed to do, sir."
"I don't care what you agreed to do. We go by the papers on board ship.
Do you see that sail?" he continued, pointing to a topsail which lay on
the deck.
"Yes, sir."
"I want you to work a cringle into this corner," he added, picking up
the part of the sail indicated.
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Make it so as to hold this thimble," said he, handing me an iron ring
with concave outer edges. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
I could see the malice twinkling in his eye, as he walked away, and
left me to perform the difficult job. Fortunately I knew what a
cringle was, and I had even worked one upon the leech-line of a sail
belonging to my yacht. But I never had done such a piece of work as
that now required of me, and I felt that I was caught. Still I did not
give it up. I saw some of the seamen grinning as though they enjoyed
my chagrin. I had put a cringle upon the gaff-topsail of the Ella
Gracewood, and there was no reason why I should not do the same job on
a larger scalp. I knew most of the knots in common use--could make a
short splice, an eye splice, and a Flemish eye.
I took the short piece of rope of which I was to make the cringle, and
proceeded to calculate the details of the work. I found a cringle in
another sail, and using this as a pattern, I went at the job in good
earnest. I watched the other hands, and used the marlin-spike and
slush, as I saw them do it. Having a mechanical head, I soon satisfied
myself that I was on the right track; and then Jack Sanderson contrived
to get near me. He gave me a few hints which helped me very much, and
within a reasonable time my cringle was finished.
"It's well done, Phil. I believe you are an able seaman, after all,"
said Jack.
"No; I am not."
"No sailor could have done that job any better. Can you make an eye
splice?"
"I can; and a short splice."
"Can you make a long splice?"
"I never did; but I think I could. I owned a yacht for a year and a
half, and I used to do most of the work on her rigging."
"You'll do," laughed Jack, as Mr. Waterford came on deck.
I glanced at the chief mate as he walked forward. I thought he looked
ugly and worried about something.
"Have you made that cringle, Phil?" said he, feeling uneasily in his
pockets.
"Yes, sir," I replied, exhibiting my work.
"Who did that?"
"I did, sir."
"You lie!" exclaimed he, with an oath. "Somebody did it for you."
"No, sir; I did it all myself."
"Who helped him, Mr. York?" asked Waterford, turning to the second mate.
"No one, sir; he did it himself."
"Has any one seen a key lying about the deck?" demanded the mate,
suddenly changing the topic.
No one answered him, and no one appeared to have found a key about the
deck. He had just discovered the loss of his key, and I concluded that
it was this circumstance which made him ugly.
"I have lost the key of my trunk," added Waterford. "Has any one found
it?"
No one had, and so there was no answer.
"Why don't you say something?"
"I haven't found any key, sir," replied Jack Sanderson; and so said a
dozen others.
The mate set all hands to searching about the deck for the key. I
looked with the others, but I had not the least hope of finding it. No
one else was any more successful, and the search on deck was abandoned.
The mate went into the cabin again, and the men continued their work.
The second mate gave me another job to do, but as it was simpler than
the first, I succeeded very well. In fact, I began to think myself that
I was an able seaman. Just before eight bells, Waterford came on deck
again, looking tenfold more ugly than before. I concluded that he had
opened his trunk, and discovered the loss of a portion of his gold, or
rather the loss of that portion which belonged to me.
"Where's the key of your trunk, Phil?" demanded he.
"In my pocket, sir."
"Give it to me," he added, sternly.
"Am I not allowed to keep the key of my own trunk, sir?"
"None of your impudence. I believe you have liquor in your trunk, and I
shall examine it again."
I gave him my key.
"Now, go up to the main cross-trees, and keep a lookout to windward for
any sail. If you see anything, hail the deck."
"Ay, ay, sir," I replied, moving forward.
"Where are you going?"
"After my coat, sir."
"Obey my order."
Instead of going to the forecastle, as I supposed he would, he went
aft, and then into the cabin. I took my coat from the berth where I had
left it. From the movements of the mate, I concluded that he was going
below to see if my key would fit his trunk, and thus determine whether
I had opened it or not. I deemed it prudent to take my treasure from
its hiding-place, and put it into my pocket, for I feared that a search
would be made during my absence. I had not been aloft since I signed
the shipping articles, though I had done so during my first visit to
the bark. I knew where the main cross-trees were, and I was soon seated
upon them, with my eyes turned to windward.
Of course I had not been sent aloft to keep a lookout for a sail to
windward. I was simply exiled to this lofty perch that I might be out
of the way while the mate searched for the gold in my trunk. I had no
objection to the cross-trees; on the contrary, I rather liked the idea
of being upon them. I should not have to answer any hard questions
during the examination.
Of the two events which occurred on the first day of my sea-life,
CRINGLE AND CROSS-TREE are the most prominent in my mind.
I sat upon the cross-trees with my arm around the weather main
top-gallant shrouds. I looked to windward occasionally, but I kept the
run of all that was transpiring on deck. I saw the mate go into the
forecastle, and I had no doubt he was looking for the fifteen hundred
dollars in gold which had first been in my trunk, then in his, and was
now in my coat pocket. If he was actually looking for the money, it
would be a difficult matter for me to conceal it; but I was determined
to throw it overboard rather than permit him to have and enjoy it. I
took the bag from my pocket, and considered what disposition I should
make of it.
"On the cross-trees!" shouted Waterford.
"Ay, ay, sir!" I replied.
"Come down!"
I might as well throw the gold into the sea, as go down with it in
my pocket. I jammed the bag in between the trestle-trees, and after
assuring myself that it was secure, I went down to the deck.
"Have you any liquor about you, Phil?" demanded the mate, as I reported
myself to him.
"No, sir; I never use liquor."
"Let me see," said he, proceeding, without ceremony, to search me,
which he did in a very thorough manner.
I knew what he was looking for, and I held still, patiently submitting
to the operation.
"On the cross-trees again," said he, savagely, when he had completed
the search.
"Ay, ay, sir," I replied, very willing to return, in order to satisfy
myself that the gold was still safe.
I confess that I did not feel half so much pleasure in the possession
of my money as I did before I lost it. I had very little hope of being
able to retain it, and I regarded it as a very uncertain treasure--more
uncertain even than earthly treasures usually are. I went up the main
rigging, and on reaching the cross-trees, I found the bag where I had
left it. For an hour I saw the mate going from place to place about the
deck; but I think he spent half the time in the quarters of the crew. I
put the bag in my pocket, and was soon ordered down. I went immediately
to the forecastle, and found the key of my trunk in the key-hole. My
clothes and everything else had been thoroughly overhauled, and were in
hopeless confusion; but my precious relics were safe.
"Pass the word for Phil Farringford," said the second mate to a man
near the door of the house on deck.
"Here, sir," I responded.
"Mr. Waterford wants you."
I threw the bag of gold hastily into the trunk, and locked it. I found
the chief mate on the quarter-deck waiting for me.
"Why don't you come when I send for you?" said he, savagely.
"I did come; I am here, sir."
"It takes you a good while to come after you are called. You were in my
state-room last night, Phil?"
"You put me there, sir."
"I say you were there; no matter how you came there."
"I was, sir."
"Did you see my trunk?"
"I did, sir."
"Was it open?"
"It was not."
"But you opened it," said he, angrily, as he doubled up his fist and
shook it in my face with a horrid oath. "You stole fifteen hundred
dollars from that trunk, Phil."
"I had fifteen hundred dollars stolen from my trunk, on the Ohio River."
"Did you? Well, it served you right."
"You don't seem to think so in your own case."
"None of your impudence, Phil. I say you stole fifteen hundred in gold
from my trunk."
"I said that I had been equally unfortunate on the Ohio River. Mine
was stolen by a fellow who called himself A. McGregor."
"Did you steal my money?" roared he, fiercely.
"No, sir; I did not steal your money."
"You lie! You did! What have you done with it?"
"I speak only the truth, sir."
It was the literal truth.
"Answer me; what have you done with my money?"
"I have none of your money, sir."
"You lie!"
And with that he hit me over the head with a wooden belaying-pin, and
the blow brought me senseless to the deck.
[Illustration: THE MATE STRIKES A HEAVY BLOW.]