A TALK ABOUT A MEAL
“There’ll be music now,” whispered Frank to Darry. “That captain is a
tartar if ever there was one.”
The dessert had already been brought on, so January Jones was not
called on to do additional waiting and he did not re-appear. The boys
were soon finished and went again to the deck, leaving Professor Strong
to interview the master of the steamer.
It was a disagreeable duty he had to perform, but Amos Strong was too
old a traveler, and had seen too much of life, to hesitate concerning
his course of action. Being unable to find the captain, he hailed the
first mate.
“I wish to see the captain at once,” he said. “Where is he?”
The mate did not know, and sent a deck hand to hunt him up. It was a
good quarter of an hour before the master of the _Chester_ put in an
appearance.
“What is it you want?” demanded Jason Sudlip, harshly and there was a
gleam in his eyes which was far from pleasant.
“I wish to complain to you, Captain Sudlip, of the food furnished to
our party.”
“What’s the matter with it?”
“Everything is the matter with it. In the first place it is very poor
in itself and in the second place it is miserably cooked. To-day’s
dinner is the poorest which has been served to our party since we left
the United States, and that is several months ago.”
“Humph! I heard you trying to raise a row at the table. According to my
way of thinking the food is all right, and so is the cooking. Is that
all you want to see me about?”
“That is all, and it is quite enough. I do not propose to stand it. I
paid for first-class accommodations for myself and for those with me,
and I shall expect such accommodations in the future. If they are not
forthcoming as soon as we get to Kingston I shall lodge a complaint
against you and sue to recover, even if I have to hold myself and your
ship there to do it.”
At this announcement Captain Sudlip’s eyes almost bulged out of his
head with rage.
“Ha! do you threaten me?” he roared. “That’s the way of all
Yankees--think they can ride right over everybody that comes along. You
can’t ride over me!”
“I won’t argue the point,” returned Professor Strong, calmly. “You
heard what I said, and I am a man who always keeps his word. I once
met a fellow of your stripe at Nassau--Captain Renfaw, of the _Queen
Mary_--perhaps you know him. He tried the same game of poor food and it
cost the owners of the ship about sixty pounds in court--and the money
came out of Captain Renfaw’s salary. Unless there is a better service I
shall treat you exactly as I did Renfaw.”
With this remark Amos Strong swung around on his heel and sauntered
off. Captain Sudlip stood for a second glaring at him, and seemed on
the point of talking back. Then he drew his lips tightly together and
walked to his private cabin.
The professor said nothing to the boys about what had taken place, but
they all knew that he had “laid down the law” by the way the captain
acted whenever he came near them. They saw nothing of January Jones
until the day following.
By nightfall Hockley was taken seasick, and a little later Sam and Mark
were also suffering. None of the attacks, however, was severe, and
Frank and Darry escaped entirely.
“We got cleaned out when we came down here,” said Darry, with a grin.
“My! but I’ll never forget that dose. I thought sure I was going to
turn inside out!”
“Poor Hockley didn’t get a chance to boast this trip,” replied Frank.
“He was the first one taken.”
By morning all felt fairly well, and everybody appeared at the table
but Hockley, who was suffering from a headache.
“Now we’ll see what’s what!” whispered Frank. “This certainly looks
encouraging,” and he pointed to the clean tablecloth and the neat piles
of bread and pats of butter.
Breakfast seemed a long time in coming, but when at last it did arrive
it was quite a fair meal. The quantity was not extravagant, but what
there was of it was fairly well cooked, and the coffee proved of a much
better grade, greatly to the professor’s satisfaction, for like many
old-time travelers, he was a great coffee drinker. Nothing was said
about the improvement in the food, but many a sly wink was given and
returned across the board.
While the boys were eating they saw that January Jones was unusually
silent. The negro had a bit of court-plaster on his forehead and one
side of his jaw seemed slightly swollen.
“It looks to me as if January had been in a fight,” remarked Sam, when
the crowd found itself on deck. “Do you imagine that brute of a captain
attacked him?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” returned Mark. “He is a very easy-going,
mild-mannered darkey, and a fellow like Captain Sudlip would just take
pleasure in brow-beating him.”
“But isn’t it against the marine rules to strike a man like that?”
questioned Frank.
“I guess captains often take the law into their own hands,” said Darry.
“They can put in a complaint of mutiny, or something like that, and a
sailor, or other ship’s hand, has no show.”
The day had started in bright and clear, but by ten o’clock it began
to grow misty, and soon a drizzling rain was falling and they were
compelled to seek the shelter of the cabin.
“I think we may as well improve our time by having a talk about
Jamaica,” said Professor Strong. “We shall only stop for one day at
Kingston--unless something unforeseen happens--but it won’t hurt to
know something of this English possession.”
He had his map handy, and placing it on the wall he sat down in front
of it, and the boys ranged close alongside.
“As you can readily see,” began the professor, “Jamaica is an island
located in the Caribbean Sea directly north of Colombia in South
America and south of the island of Cuba. It is oval in shape and is
about one hundred and fifty miles long by fifty miles wide. Can any of
you name a State at home of about that size?”
There was a few seconds of silence.
“If I am not mistaken New Jersey is just a little larger than that,”
answered Mark.
“You are right Robertson, the general length and the general width are
about the same, although New Jersey contains more square miles than
Jamaica. The island has a ridge of high hills running east and west,
called the Blue Mountains, and from these hills spring over half a
dozen small streams which flow into the sea.”
“Can you sail on the rivers?” came from Darry.
“On only a few, Crane, the others contain too many rapids and
waterfalls. The deepest stream is the Black River, which is used by
small boats for perhaps twenty-five or thirty miles. I once had an
adventure on that river, so I am not likely to forget it.”
“Oh, tell us the story!” cried Frank, eagerly. He always thought a
“geography lesson” awfully dry.
“It is soon told,” answered Professor Strong, with a good natured
smile. “I had been out hunting and had slipped on a steep rock and
twisted my ankle. I went down to the river and there discovered a
rowboat. No one was at hand from whom I could hire the boat and I
could not walk around looking up the owner. So I determined to risk
taking the boat, and jumping in I shoved off and began to row down to
the town, two miles away. I had hardly gotten quarter of a mile when I
heard a shouting and two old Englishmen came running down the river
bank, yelling wildly. They, too, had been out gunning, and before I
could come back and explain one of them aimed his gun at me and fired.”
“And were you hit?” asked several of the boys together.
“No, fortunately his aim was poor and the charge passed over my head.
Then I rowed to shore in a hurry, and after a good deal of trouble
explained matters. They told me that they had had their boat stolen by
negroes three days before and in the darkness took me for one of the
negroes. I felt like giving them a piece of my mind for shooting at me,
but as it was their boat I let the matter drop. But I never borrowed
another boat without permission.”
“I’d had ’em locked up,” came from Hockley, who had just joined the
group.
“Well, I did not. Now to get back to Jamaica. The mouths of the
numerous rivers afford good harbors, but the best of the shelters
for ships is the bay toward the south-east, upon which is situated
Kingston, the capital. The total population of the island is about six
hundred and fifty thousand, only a very small part of that being white
people.”
“It’s the best of the West Indies belonging to England, isn’t it?”
questioned Sam.
“Yes. It used to belong to Spain. It was discovered by Columbus, on his
second voyage, in 1494, and it was taken under Spanish rule fifteen
years later. In 1655 Oliver Cromwell sent out an expedition which
captured the island, and it was ceded to England later on. Since that
time there has been more or less trouble with the negroes, but at
present the island is at rest.”
“And what do the people do for a living?” asked Darry.
“They raise sugar and coffee principally, and also some fruit. The
country is also becoming something of a health resort, the climate,
especially among the hills, being fine.”
“I’ve often heard of Jamaica rum,” said Hockley.
“Yes, the island produces more of that than is good for the people at
large,” answered the professor. “It also exports large quantities of
log-wood, and the price received is, at present, very good.”
“Tell us about your hunting trips in Jamaica,” said Frank, after a
pause, during which Amos Strong pointed out several of the important
towns on the map; and a long talk on hunting followed which did not
come to an end until the gong rang for dinner. Nothing had been brought
down in the forests of Jamaica but birds--for there are no wild animals
worth mentioning--but the professor had a manner of telling his “yarns”
which was exceedingly captivating.
The midday meal served was about on a par with the breakfast. There
was no more than was absolutely necessary, but the quality was far
above that of the day previous and the cook had taken pains with the
preparation of the food. The captain did not show himself, and even
January Jones hardly spoke a word.
“I hope you didn’t get into trouble on our account, January,” observed
Sam, when he got the chance.
“De cap’n am a werry hard man, sah,” replied the negro, and that was
all he would say.
“Angry, is he?”
The negro nodded solemnly and walked away.
“I think we’ll hear more of this,” said Darry, and he was right.
It grew dark early in the afternoon and the rain kept them in the
cabin, where the boys started in to amuse themselves in various ways.
“It’s small fun on board of a ship in a storm,” said Sam. “Makes me
feel like a chicken boxed up in a hen-house.”
“Really?” returned Darry, dryly. “Now I never was a chicken in a
hen-house, so I don’t know how----” and then he broke off short and
dodged, as Sam moved as if to throw a book at his head.
“It certainly is dead slow----” remarked Frank, when a sudden hissing
stopped him. The hissing was followed by a roar as of an explosion and
before they could realize it the cabin began to fill with steam.
“Gracious, the boiler must have burst!” ejaculated Mark.
“Boiler burst!” came from the others.
“We had better get out on deck, boys!” called Professor Strong.
“Something is certainly very much wrong.”
He had scarcely spoken when there came another roar and worse hissing.
A yell went up from some other passengers and immediately there was
wild confusion on all sides.
“Oh, Professor, are we going down?” cried Hockley in terror, as he
clutched Professor Strong’s arm.
“I hope not, Jacob,” was the reply. “Come, we will get to the deck and
provide ourselves with life preservers.”
But to reach the deck through that cloud of steam was by no means
easy. Hockley was frantic and began to yell for help. In the meantime
Professor Strong and Frank reached a number of life preservers and
passed some to the others. At last they found themselves outside on the
wet and dark deck, wondering what was going to happen next.