The Cumbermede had made a long list of successful voyages since Aleck
watched her out of sight and waved his farewell to Carter, and she was
homeward bound once more, with a full cargo and a quick run so far,
before the trade-winds. The moonlight lay soft and clear across the
deck, the phosphorus flashed like monster diamonds in her track, and
not a sound was heard but the low plashing at the bow, as the vessel
made her seven knots, steady before a light breeze. But now the wind
freshened, and the second mate’s voice was heard giving sharp quick
orders to two of his watch.
“Go aloft there, and close up the main-top-gallant.”
The men sprang to the rigging, and a few moments more one of them
came down the ratlines and went forward to some work he had left, but
the other seemed to find some delay in accomplishing his share of the
task. The mate glanced impatiently into the rigging once or twice, then
angrily, and then shouted aloft:
“What are you about up there, you landlubber Jake? If I had a _dog_
and he didn’t know more than you do, I’d shoot him.”
The man halfway down by this time, finished his descent and passed the
mate without a word, but a dark scowl covered his face. The mate caught
sight of it and his fury increased; he seized the man by the collar and
pushed him violently toward the wheel.
“There, go and try your hand at that,” he said, “and see if you can
keep a decent face before your betters! A miserable fool that never saw
three months’ service since he was born, shipping as able seaman, and
then grumbling about under his officers’ feet till it’s enough to drive
them mad! If the next wave should take you overboard ’twould be the
best thing that could happen!”
The sailor recovered his balance and went off to relieve the man at the
wheel, but the scowl grew darker, and harder lines gathered about his
mouth. Eight bells sounded at last, and the first mate’s watch came
tumbling up from their berths, to relieve those on duty. But it was too
warm to go below, and after loitering a few moments till the second
mate had disappeared to turn in, two or three of the men sauntered
forward, the dark scowl among them, and getting noiselessly together
in the shadow of the foremast, began to talk in low undertones, that
could not reach far aft of their position.
“I tell you, I wont bear it any longer,” said Jake between his teeth.
“One or other of us has got to go under, and that before another
twenty-four hours is past.”
The man next him gave a low laugh, and then seeing how black the
other’s face was, grew sober again.
“Pshaw, Jake, you look as if you were in earnest. I should think you
were a landlubber, as the mate says, if you’re going to take notice of
anything an officer says to a hand! If he’d shoot his dog for what you
did, it’s only a wonder he didn’t knock you overboard. A sailor don’t
count for as much as a dog any day.”
“He knows I’ve only had my hand out of the sling for two days, and how
was I going to handle the earrings,” muttered Jake; “I tell you I mean
what I say. If I can get two or three to stand by me, well and good,
and if not I’ll tackle him alone. I’d as lief jump overboard with him,
as lead this life any longer.”
“Jake’s about right,” growled the other sailor, under his breath;
“’twould be as good a day’s work as I ever did to stand by Jake and
see the second mate get his dues.”
“Humph! and do you know what they call that? That’s mutiny, in plain
English, and we should have the other officers with their pistols out,
and if we didn’t get a little cold lead for our pains, we should find
out how bread and water tasted in the hold for a few weeks.”
“Who cares for that?” said Jake. “Let ’em come on, if they want to!
They wouldn’t shoot down three or four of us; and if they should try
it, we might get some new recruits on our side, and see which of us
could take the ship into port. If I was a dog when I came aboard, he’s
made a devil of me since, and he may look sharp that I don’t carry him
where I belong, with me.”
“You wouldn’t get any of the first mate’s watch to stand by you, if the
worst comes to the worst,” said the growling sailor; “a man’s got to do
his duty with him, but when he’s done it he treats him as if he had a
soul in him, after all.”
“That’s a fact; Carter’s the only officer I ever saw that could get
duty out of a watch and never speak an ugly word to them,” said the
other; “he don’t seem to like it. But he’s sharp as a gun to the mark,
at the same time, where any other man would get tipped over for it.”
“I’d be sorry to go against _him_” said Jake, “and so I hope he’ll
let me alone, that’s all; for I’ve got where nothing will stop me. If
you’ll give me your hand on it, shipmates, we’ll set sail together,
and if we drop anchor in a worse port, it wont be till I’ve had some
satisfaction, anyhow.”
“I don’t say but I’m ready,” said the growling sailor; “we shall find
we’ve raised a lively gale of wind, but I don’t much care where it
blows me. I’ve made as many voyages as any man aboard, and been kicked
and cursed my share; but when it comes to crowding a man every hour and
minute of a day, what do you say, Jim?”
“I say I don’t like to stand to windward of a shipmate,” said Jim, “but
it will be a bad business, and we’re homeward bound. You’d better speak
to Ratlins, anyhow, and see what he says. He’s gone below.”
“And that’s where we’d better go,” said the growling sailor, “or the
birds of the air will be getting their eye on us before we’re ready.”
Carter had taken part of his watch below, late as it was, to finish
up some ship’s writing, and his stateroom being close by the
companion-way, he had heard what passed between the second officer and
Jake.
“Pshaw!” he said to himself, fidgeting in his chair, “what’s the use of
that, Penfield? If a man’s rough enough to need that, you can’t hope
to make anything of him; and if he isn’t, it hurts. A man’s got some
feeling, whatever shape he’s in,” and a vision of a crooked little
form, fleeing away like the wind, rose up before him, as it always had,
from that miserable time at the professor’s to this very day, whenever
he heard any one use taunting or cutting words.
He went on with his writing, but the second mate’s words seemed to echo
in his ears.
“I wish Penfield wouldn’t be such a bear,” he said again as he put
aside his book to turn in at last for a nap before his watch was
called; “it don’t do to show a soft side with a man, to be sure, and
I know he’s got some rough fellows in his watch; but he’s got two or
three that started as fair as most men, and he’ll make beasts of them
all if he goes on this way. I haven’t heard him speak to a man of them
since he came aboard but as if hanging was too good for him.”
Carter’s nap was sound enough to make up for its shortness, and he
paced the quarter-deck all right and fresh for the four hours before
him as the second mate went below.
“’Tisn’t a bad idea that every wave we cut brings us so much nearer
home,” he said as he watched the foam flying back over the bow. “‘A
life on the ocean wave!’ that’s the only thing, to be sure; but, after
all, it’s always certain the roughest hand aboard is counting how many
days we’ve made on the home-run. Well, I’ll be glad to see it, for one.”
His thoughts made the trip before the sentence was finished, and
brought up where they were very apt to do, in a place he always started
for before he had been half a day ashore--Halliday’s.
“What a number-one fellow that Aleck is,” he went on, “and I owe him
for some things I never should have seen if he hadn’t showed them to
me,” and for the thousandth time some of Aleck’s words came up to his
mind.
“The only way is to remember how the Lord has treated us, and the way
he has taught us, to love our neighbor as ourselves.
“And that’s something I wish we officers remembered a little oftener;
to be sure they say you can’t treat a sailor like a man, and keep him
where he ought to be. But Penfield is too much of a Tartar, and he’s
got one fellow there that it don’t do any good to, and he don’t see the
difference. Some of them will take anything; but this Jake, though he
seemed fair enough when he shipped, is getting blacker every day, and
the ship that takes him next voyage will find him more so, I’m afraid.
I wonder what those fellows are talking about, forward there; they
ought to be below, but I’ll manage not to see them, if they don’t stay
too long.”
They glided down, one after the other, as he spoke, and a moment after
Jake was at Ratlins’ bunk and rousing him cautiously from a rather
sonorous dream. “Hush!” he said, “there’s no need of saying anything
just yet;” and leaning closer to him, he whispered the substance of
what had been said at the foremast in his ear.
Ratlins raised himself on his elbow and swore a bitter oath.
“How did you know that was the very thing I was dreaming of? But what’s
the use? A sailor is only made to be kicked like a dog, anyhow, and if
one mate kicks harder than another, why that’s all it is, and we’re
homeward-bound, you know.”
“Homeward-bound,” muttered Jake; “_he’s_ homeward-bound if I get hold
of him, for I’ve got murder in my heart, and it’s his own lookout, for
he put it there! I’ve got a mother at home that’s done praying enough
for me to bring a worse ship into port, but she may as well give it
up about this time. I tell you, Penfield is going overboard before
his second dog-watch is over, unless I can get three or four of you
to lend me a hand and help me settle him in some way that he’ll know
more about, and wont leave a mark on me that _she’d_ feel quite so much
aground about, if she knew it. What do you say? Ned and Jim are pretty
much agreed.”
“Oh, luff a little, shipmate,” said Ratlins, “and let a fellow sleep on
it, anyhow. I’ll stand by you somehow, for he deserves it; but I reckon
you’ll ease off a little by morning, if you don’t lay to altogether.”
“Not I,” said Jake; “but give me your hand on doing _something_.”
Ratlins gave him his hand, and Jake went to his bunk to nurse his
revenge and lay plans for what should be done in case the men would
agree to unite.
“But if they _don’t_,” he muttered, “’t wont save the mate. When a
worm does turn, it’s sure to sting, and he’ll never go through another
midnight-watch safe with me!”
The breeze died down again, and the watch was a lazy one, and Carter’s
thoughts, after making voyages round the world, came back to Jake again.
“Now I suppose a fellow like that is my neighbor,” he said, “let
sailors be what they will. God put a soul in him once, anyhow, and
I can’t believe it’s altogether dead yet. Of course it isn’t, or he
wouldn’t care for Penfield until it came to breaking his head with
a marlingspike, or something of that kind. I’ve got a fellow in my
watch that couldn’t feel anything less than that, but it isn’t so with
Jake. I wonder if I could manage to give him a lift. Who knows but
there’s somebody watching for him at home, that doesn’t want to see him
spoiled? At any rate, there’s One watching above, that laid down his
life for him as well as the rest of us, and it’s a pity to see a fellow
so tormented, if nothing worse should come of it.”
Penfield’s dog-watch came, the men did their duty, and then went
forward for breakfast. Jake’s face had lost none of its darkness with
the sunrising, but was harder and more threatening than ever.
“Well, shipmate,” whispered Ratlins, as they sat down, each with his
tin-dipper of coffee, his allowance of duff and ship’s biscuit, “how
many knots is she making this morning? The breeze has gone down a
little, hasn’t it, by daylight?”
“No, it hasn’t,” said Jake; “and remember you gave me your hand on it,
last night, to stand by.”
“So I did,” said Ratlins, “and my two hours on the dog-watch this
morning has given me more of a relish for it; but still--”
“No hanging fire,” said Jake. “Ned and Jim, where are you? If you’re
bound another way, I can cruise alone, and if I go down, it wont be
without carrying some one else with me.”
“Who said you were to cruise alone?” said the growling sailor, breaking
a biscuit on his knee; “I guess we can fix something before to-night,”
and the whispering grew lower and thicker, until even Jake seemed
satisfied.
When seven bells struck that noon, Carter came on deck, and seemed to
be loafing about for the half-hour before his watch came on, but in the
course of it he managed to come across the second mate, where a few
words could pass between them unobserved.
“Look here, Penfield,” he said, “I want to make a little change in the
watch if it’s all the same to you. That long-limbed fellow there, Jake,
I’ve taken a notion to try my hand on him, and I’ve got a fellow among
mine that don’t work in so well with the rest. I’ll let you try what
you can make of him, and you turn Jake over to me.”
The mate stared; a queer sort of proceeding, he thought, and wouldn’t
be called ship-shape on some vessels, but he knew Carter owned in the
Cumbermede, and he supposed he could do as he liked.
“Taken a notion to Jake,” he said, suppressing the oath that rose to
his lips, out of respect to his superior officer, “I should as soon
think of taking a notion to one of the imps below. You’re welcome to
him if you want him; I’m sure I don’t care if he goes to the bottom. A
miserable dog, for ever under foot, and taking more swearing to get a
little duty out of him, than any three men on board.”
“Well, I’ll try him,” said Carter; “you let him know, and I’ll send
Dave over to you.”
Jake stood in the broiling sun, scraping the paint from the house--ugly
work in the heat, and a hideous noise, but no vessel ever stood into
port in more perfect trim than the Cumbermede, and this voyage every
particle of the old paint must be removed from aft, and she was to
shine brighter than ever in new. He did not stir as he heard the mate
approach, but he watched him with eye and ear from under his broad
hat. The mate stopped beside him, and Jake set his teeth, with the
thought that whatever came, it was one of the last times.
“You go over to the first mate’s watch to-night, and much joy may he
have of you,” was all he said, and passed along.
Jake started, and the knife almost fell from his hands. Were they
suspected? Discovered? What did it mean?
But he went on with his work, as if the mate had only spoken to a
statue. Penfield passed back and forth, but Jake did not dare lift his
eyes to read his face. At any rate, he had the rest of the day for a
lookout; it would be his watch below soon, and he could consult with
the others.
“Now I tell you, shipmates, that’s a lucky thing all round,” said
Ratlins. “Maybe they’ve got a scent on the wind; I don’t know, but
it don’t look to me much like foul weather, and if they’re only
wind-clouds, why then we’re all out of a bad business easy; and what do
you care what the second-mate is to us, Jake, so long as he keeps out
of your wake?”
“But I wont keep out of his,” said Jake. “Do you think I’ll let go as
easy as that?”
“Easy,” said Ned. “You may as well reef topsails and scud before the
wind a day or two, anyhow, till you see how she trims. We sha’n’t be
out more than three weeks now, and there’s no great fun going into port
down in the hold, with iron bracelets on.”
“What’s that got to do with paying off scores?” said Jake; but though
the scowl was still dark, he turned in without another word.
All through the midnight watch there was a sharp fight going on between
the hatred in Jake’s heart and some new influence that seemed to be
cooling and soothing the fire, he did not know how. Was he going to be
a spooney, and let what he’d vowed one night die out the next, or get
frightened by Ratlins’ talk about cold lead and iron bracelets? But
after all, what was the second mate to him any longer? Yet he _had_
been something to him, and was he going to forget it? Never!
The watch wore away, and still the struggle went on.
“If it only wasn’t for the old woman at home!” thought Jake. “She’s
kept a long watch and done a good deal of praying, in hopes to make
something of me. And I _might_ have been something if it hadn’t been
for--!” and Jake shook his fist towards the mate’s room. “But after
all, foul deeds leave a black mark on a man’s soul, and she’d fret her
heart out if the hearing of it should come to her. But if every man’s
hand is against me, who says it’s my fault if my hand’s against every
man? It’s so long since I’ve had a word spoken to me as if I had as
much of a soul as the plank under my feet, that I don’t know as I have
any to put a stain on; and whose fault is it, I say? And if I don’t
keep the men to their word to-night, they’re bound no longer. And what
difference does it make? There’s nobody that thinks I’ve got any soul
to save.”
Carter’s voice was heard giving orders to haul taut the main-sheet. The
tones were quiet and decided, but there was something in them that made
the men spring to with a will, and the work was done almost in a minute.
“Belay there, my hearty!” said Carter; and Jake, who had the end,
glanced suddenly in his face, and caught a look of kindliness,
friendliness, and good cheer, more perhaps than discipline would have
allowed, the mate to show if he had thought it would be observed.
The work was done! What chord had he touched? Jake did not know, but he
felt a change sweeping through his heart like coming out of an icebelt
into tradewinds. A few moments later the bell relieved the watch; Jake
plunged below and threw himself into his bunk, his face covered with
his hard hands and sobbing like a child.
Carter had been the means of bringing one man to repentance, and saving
the life of another--perhaps of half a dozen more.