father as we remembered him in the South Sea. Degenerate? He was the
ablest lad of his size I ever saw. He stood right there on the main
deck the day we went out and took little or no notice of him while the
tug had our line. He was signed on, mind you, signed on regular, so
as not to excite the comment of 'pull.' Hell! why do they send boys
to sea when the shore is the place to train them? He stood there and
saw me looking at him, thinking of the words 'be sure and bring him
back'--yes, I would.
"'Say, Cap, dis is fine. Let's put de rags on her an' let her slide.
I wants to see her slip erlong--t'hell wid towin', says me,' and he
came up the poop steps on the starboard side to chat with me--a thing
no one, as you know, can do aboard a ship without a reprimand. Every
one heard him talking to me. He yelled it out in a shrill voice--yes,
talking to me, the captain, on the poop. 'See here, young man,' I said
to him, 'you mustn't talk to me while I'm on deck. Go down on the main
deck, and when you want anything, you ask the mate--he will talk with
you or get you what you want--you understand? It's not the thing to
ever speak to the captain of a ship without permission.'
"'Aw, fergit it, cully! Don't youse make no mistake erbout me. I spoke
fair an' civil to youse, an' if youse don't want to answer you kin go
to hell, you stuck-up old fool! D'ye git that right?' he said shrilly.
"Well, you can imagine what that sounded like to the men. Twenty of
them were grinning and both mates aghast. I was the master, a man known
the world over as a 'driver.' There was nothing to do but take the lad
in hand at once.
"'Take him forward and rope's-end him,' I said to Bowles, the second
officer, a man weighing two hundred pounds and a 'bucko' of the
strongest type. You remember him, the toughest mate afloat?
"But Willie looked up at me with a sneer.
"'You try it, you sea loafer. I'll sweat youse fer it if youse do. You
ain't de whole thing aboard here. Youse don't know me, I guess.'
"I had to do it. The affair had gone too far. Bowles grabbed him by
the collar and lifted him off his feet, and he let out a scream like a
wildcat--a most unearthly shriek. Bowles whipped him good and hard,
tanned him so he could scarcely sit down; but he just cursed and swore
at the officer, telling him what he'd do to him afterward. He got an
extra lick or two for this. Bowles paid no attention, but went back to
his station to attend lines. Half an hour later he was standing at the
rail when I saw a form shoot out of the galley door and drive a long
knife into his back. He sank down without a word, and Willie stood over
him ready for the finish. The mate knocked him down with a belaying pin
before he could kill.
"It was a terrible thing, an awful state of affairs beginning within
five minutes after the tug had let go. It was uncanny. A young boy
doing such things aboard a ship. I would have put him ashore at
once, but remembered the articles he had signed and the words of the
president of the line. I hesitated and the opportunity was lost----"
"I would have made another," I interrupted. "I would have sent the
young villain to prison at once. No good could possibly happen from
such an agreement, no good come from a horrible little devil like that."
"I don't know. I don't quite know yet what to make of it all.
According to the usual rule there could be no good from a boy who
would deliberately commit such a crime; but we men who know life, the
real life, know that rules are not good to follow. You know that. I've
tried to figure it all out, but there is no answer, no accounting for
the strangeness of character that develop under certain conditions. We
tied Willie up while he was unconscious from the blow of the pin, and
instead of putting Bowles ashore we endeavored to bring him around. I
took him aft and sewed up the cut. It was an awful wound, but Bowles
was a very strong man. It took a month before he could get about the
deck again. We had run clear to the equator.
"In the meantime Willie had had another run in, and I had him brought
aft to have a little talk with him, to try and explain to him how a
ship must be run, the iron discipline and the custom of the master not
to associate with any one, either boy or man, from forward.
"'Aw, cut it out, cully--cut de langwidge! It don't go none wid
me--see? I comes aboard dis ship an' gets it in de neck de foist round.
Den I slings inter de bloke wot does the trick--'n by rights I ought
ter take a fall outer youse, Cap--'n I've a good mind to do it, too.
Dem sea tricks don't go none wid me.'
"'But don't you know I could hang you if I wanted to? Don't you know
my word is law here? I am in absolute command. If you don't follow the
rules of the ship I'll have to punish you severely.'
"'Nothin' doin', Bo, nothin' doin' at all. Youse kin cut all that sort
o' talk out when youse chins wid me--see? Say, Bo, whatcher take me
fer, anyways? Er "come on," er what? Whatcher t'ink I am, anyways,
hey? Go tell de little choild stories to yer gran'mother--don't
spring dem on me, don't try to hand me nothin' funny--I'm a MAN! An'
don't youse t'ink youse kin take de call of me, neider, Bo, fer youse
makes a mistake mixin' it wid me! I'm a fightin' MAN--me fader'll
tell youse dat, an' dat's why he sends me wid youse when I might
be goin' to school. De old man is a lulu, an' I am his son, Bo, a
son of a dog--nothin' yaller in de breed; 'n if youse t'ink you kin
razzle-dazzle me you'll sure fall down. Youse take dat from me, Bo!
D'youse git it straight?'
"'I'll turn you loose if you'll promise to do the right thing from now
on,' I said.
"'Aw, no, Bo, I don't have to promise nothin'. Youse ain't got me right
yet. I ain't no child. What de hell's the matter wid youse, anyhow?'
"'All right, then, you'll stay locked up until the end of the voyage
and then I'll turn you over to the police, and----'
"'An' you'll pay like hell fer that 'f I does. Youse see!' he snarled.
"Well, what could I do? What would you have done under the
circumstances? The boy was not afraid. I knew his breed too well. I
knew his father. He would not suffer the smallest infringement of what
he believed to be his rights. He would resist to the death. He had
gone with a gang of young ruffians and had developed a certain sense
of what he believed to be right. He saw no law but that of absolute
equality; and there is no such thing. He was at fault. It was absurd
for men who ran a ship whose name was 'hard' to allow a little boy to
take charge, a little fellow not weighing a hundred pounds. I decided
to give him a real whipping--a whipping that would make a permanent
mark in his memory. I hated to think of it--hated to really believe
it was necessary, for there is nothing so horrible as whipping a
man--and the lad was a man in his own opinion. There is absolutely
nothing so soul-killing, so fearfully degrading. I prefer the bloodiest
fighting always to the cold-blooded lash. I have seen men lose their
self-respect under the degrading stroke of the lash; and a man without
self-respect had better be dead. I studied the case and remembered his
father. He was a small man physically--I never knew a big man make a
good seaman; but he could take charge of a ship, no matter what kind of
creatures were forward, and he never spoke but once in giving an order.
The father had the same idea in regard to right and wrong--he never
forgave one, never forgot. Yet he had been a staunch friend of mine. He
had many friends who swore by him--and he was always to be relied upon,
you could always count upon him no matter what the cost to himself in
any emergency. It was his idea of duty--and he feared nothing at all.
"It was just a week later on a hot day when I had gone below to work
the noon sight that I became aware of a pair of eyes looking at me from
the top of the companionway, and as I looked up I gazed right into
those of Willie; but it was along the blue barrel of my own forty-five
caliber six-shooter. The gun had always been hanging close to my bunk
head--ready for emergencies.
"'Bang!' The shot came without a second's warning. The bullet tore
through my arm. I sprang through the bulkhead into the forward cabin
just as the second shot ripped me across the neck. I was rushing for
the doorway to the main deck and the third shot threw splinters in my
face as it hit the edge of the door. Willie was coming right along
behind me, and firing as he came--and I--well, I confess it, I was
running for my life. I heard his yell of derision, a shrill scream----
"The mate heard the firing, and as Willie came through the doorway he
kicked him in the back and knocked him over. Then he jumped upon him
and stamped all but the very life out of him by driving his boot-heels
into his face."
I shivered with the intensity of the tale, the horror of it all. The
old man sat silent in the gloom and the spark of light from his cigar
end flared and faded as he drew upon it. He was thinking of the past. I
waited.
"Well, what was I to do? I was a man, a ship master, and here I was
with my arm shattered by a heavy bullet from a mere boy--or devil! What
could I do?
"Yes, then I whipped him--whipped him until the men turned away. I will
not tell you of it--it was too horrible.
"It was four weeks before I could get about the deck from the effects
of that pistol shot. I had little medicine aboard. There I was limping
about with a broken arm, and there was Bowles limping about with the
tendons of his back cut through. It was awful. The men grinned. Yes,
the men grinned at us. I had an extra padlock put upon the stateroom
where Willie stayed, and he was kept tight after that.
"At the end of a month Willie was all but dead. The terrific heat,
the gases from the cargo and the close confinement told upon his weak
frame. I saw that he would not last much longer. He would die in the
ship, and I remembered the words of his father--'bring him back; be
sure and bring him back!' There was an old man in the crew named Jim.
He was half fish and the rest salt and rope-yarn. He offered to take
the boy in hand and try to train him. I let him have a chance, always
having him close at hand to stop any trouble with a pair of irons. And
when he turned in the boy was locked up again. But there was no talk
of doing right, no promise to be fair or obey orders from the little
chap. I saw he would break out at the first opportunity and refused to
give him one. I had old Jim read the Bible to him every day to see if I
couldn't get him interested in religion. He liked that part of the Old
Testament where it is especially bloody and deals with the desperate
fighting of men, but when it came to other parts he lost interest.
"'Say, cull, do youse believe dat yarn erbout de whale--say? Aw, gwan!
don't spring nothin' funny on me, Bo. Gimme some of de hot stuff or
cut it--see? Dat kid David was de stuff! Gimme some more o' his work,
or let it go at dat. He might have hove de rock an' hit de giant in
de neck--but I doubts it; but maybe so, maybe so. Dat giant warn't
no bigger'n Bowles, I reckon--'n I c'u'd do fer him easy enough, as
youse know. Yes, I c'u'd a dun up dat giant all right wid any sort er
weaping--knife or rock--I'm a sort o' giant killer myself----'
"'You ain't got de nerve to do nothing like that, boy. Shut up and
listen!' said Jim.
"'Say, Bo, don't youse make no mistake erbout me noive. I got de whole
gang of youse beat to a gantline. I c'u'd stick youse all back in de
lazereet an' not half woik. Aw, say, Jimmy, youse ain't got me measure
quite right--see? Guess onct more, old boy; but go erlong an' read some
more of de fight to me. I likes it all right.' And so they would chat
together and I would listen to try and fathom the boy's mind. It was
peculiar. And yet under it all was that vast ego, that immense regard
for the opinions of others--not alone himself--he was too young yet,
but for himself was the greatest, the self-respect. He was a leader, a
boy with a soul--you may laugh when you think him a fiend, a perfect
devil, if you will, but he was all right in some things.
"I was more afraid of Rose, my mate.
"Rose was a quiet man, a driver, and he had struck down the boy and
beaten him to a jelly. The boy never alluded to it, never spoke of
it even to Jim. That's where the danger lay. I felt that they would
finish the fight when I let the lad loose, and dared not do so for a
long time. Once when Jim had the boy on deck I caught Rose gazing at
him with a peculiar steady light in his eyes. He just stood looking
at the boy for nearly a full minute--then the lad turned and looked
right into his eyes with the same peculiar steadiness--a stare that
was unblinking, yet not strained. Willie had those light eyes, almost
colorless, like his father. So had Rose, and they told each other so
plainly what was behind their eyes that I almost smiled; but it was no
smiling work, even if there was a boy in it. Rose showed plainly that
he would wring the boy's neck at the first outfly, and was regardless
of consequences. Rose was not a man to trifle with, yet when you
remember that I was shot and the second mate cut, there was reason
for the chief to throw out all sentiment. And so I kept Willie under
Jim's care until we reached Hong-Kong. Then the old seaman wanted to go
ashore and take the boy with him, promising not to go near a grog-shop.
You can't trust a windjammer ashore after a long voyage, no matter how
good a man he is. Jim came back to the ship that night the worse for
wear, and told a tale of the boy slipping away from him in the streets.
The man was drunk and I had him sent down in irons. Then I sent out a
call for the police.
"They found Willie, who had wandered off while Jim was drinking. The
boy had walked the streets all night, not caring much about the ship,
and because a Chinaman would not cut off his queue and make him a
present of it, the boy had jumped him with a knife he had procured and
tried to take it by force. The interference of the police was all that
saved the boy's life, for the man's friends helped him hold the lad,
and they were just in the act of cutting his throat when help arrived.
I was almost sorry for the interference, but I remembered the words of
his father.
"Jim being unable to take further care of him for the present, I locked
him up myself and turned in, being tired from the night's work. The
next evening I saw Mr. Rose dragging Willie aboard the ship. How he got
adrift I don't know, but he carried in each hand an oil can, while the
mate, holding him, forced him aboard.
"'Say, Bo, whatcher think I done--hey? Just watch dat junk dere lyin'
in de next dock--see? Aw, chee, dem Chinks is de limit. Dat feller
what got me in Dutch last night is aboard dere, an'--well, you jest
watch him now and tell me what youse t'ink o' me, anyways. I remembers
him, but most all Chinks looks alike to me. Anyhow, I fire her up fer
fair--you watch her--see? Oh, say, Bo, what a pipe----'
"Even while he spoke the black smoke poured from the fated junk. She
burned like a box of matches. She was full of camphor wood and grease,
and she fired the entire dock, burning six other vessels and making it
so hot we were forced to warp into the stream.
"No, I didn't give the boy up. I suppose I might have done so and seen
him hung properly. I said nothing, and Rose was a very quiet man.
The damage he had done apparently took the lad's mind off his former
troubles, and on the way home I let him go back to his watch. He took
to the rigging like a monkey. I will say here he was the best sailor I
had ever seen. There was nothing he could not learn about seamanship.
He would always take the weather earing in a blow and no man dared to
send him in. When Jim was on deck the old seaman kept him under his eye
in case of trouble, and Mr. Rose was always most vigilant. The mate had
determined to kill the lad at the first sign of danger. I tried again
and again to win his confidence, but he seemed to look upon me as his
enemy. He refused to take me for a friend, and my little talks were
futile.
"'Aw, tell it to yer gran'mother,' he would say to me. 'Don't try to
stuff me, Bo. Youse had your innings at that--now fergit it before you
git inter the soup ag'in. I knows youse, an' I ain't done wid youse
yet, either--see? Youse done me dirt--youse done me when I first come
in de ship. I ain't decided just what I'll do to youse yet, but youse
better keep yer eye liftin' fer me. Don' try to razzle-dazzle me none.
I ain't afraid of youse at all. You ain't got de noive to do me--see?
But I got it in fer youse all hunk, now don't make no mistake erbout
dat. I'll let youse off easier the better we gets erlong--see? If we
gets erlong all right I may let youse down easy--if not, I'll kill you
as sure as I breathe, an' that goes as it lays. Do youse git it right?'
"Here was a boy, now sixteen, telling the master of a ship he would
kill him if things were not to his liking. What do you think of it,
anyway? I never could work it out I couldn't lock him up any more for
it would have killed him--and I must not kill the lad--I don't know----
"The whole affair was insane. It was grotesque. But there was my
shattered arm, and there was Bowles limping about--that fire at
Hong-Kong--and I must bring Willie back home. I'm telling you a true
story. I'm telling you of a boy, an apprentice.
"When we struck the rough weather of the high latitudes Willie was
happy. He was worked out to a gantline by Jim, and he was beginning to
run the men a bit. It was amazing and absurd to hear that kid yelling
orders to the men aloft. Slack-away' or 'clew up,' whatever the order
was, and he was very smart. He could beat the best of them to the royal
yard; and he was taking pride in it. His voice was at that stage when
it cracks and goes into a treble, and no one laughed. Even the mate
watched it all with gloomy eyes, never saying a thing, and never even
smiling. And it was amazing how the men obeyed him. If a man failed
to do so, only an apology and the reception of a kick upon the stern
would save him from a fracas, for Willie kept right after them. Yes,
he inherited all the masterly qualities of his father. He was a wonder
at seamanship. One day a dago didn't like the way Willie trod upon his
feet when they were both hauling a brace. They mixed, and it was the
closest shave for the lad. He came out with a bad cut, for the dago
at sea takes to a knife like a babe to milk. That night, while in his
bunk, the dago was slammed over the head with a handspike, and we had
to keep him off duty until the ship docked.
"When we came in Jim brought his charge aft to sign off, as is the
custom, you know, for their slop chest accounts. Willie came up.
"I haven't got much against you, Willie; you owe me for a couple of
plugs of tobacco, but we'll let that go," I said.
"'No, we don't, Bo; youse charge it all up right an' proper. Den I got
a small account agin de ship--which I'll settle right now----'
"But old Jim was too quick for him.
"'Take him forward and keep him in irons until we get in. We'll get
inside before dark,' I ordered. You know how it is when a ship comes
in. The land sharks were there in swarms, but among them was old man
Jackson waiting for his son. They went away hand in hand, the old man
never even speaking to me--I always thought he knew.
"Our cargo was valued at about half a million. It was nearly all
Jackson's, as he owned the greatest shares in all the ships. We docked
and were forced to lay right behind a barge loaded with dynamite,
nearly two tons of it ready for taking out in the morning to blow Hell
Gate rock.
"Bowles had gone ashore with the rest, and Rose had stepped up the
street for a 'first night' off. He was not due until midnight. I always
suspected the second officer or the dago--I don't know, only neither
of them ever showed up again. They both had seen the President of the
line take his son, his young hopeful, away with him. They both had
suffered much from his hands. Perhaps it was revenge--to try to get
even with the father for the son's sins. Anyhow, I had hardly turned in
that night, leaving old Jones, the shipkeeper, on deck, when the old
fellow ran below and told me the ship was afire forward. I turned out
instantly and was on deck.
"The ship was burning like a beacon from the foremast to the t'gallant
forecastle. She seemed to be spread with oil. Jones was seventy and
unable to do much. I ran forward and yelled for help. In ten minutes
the engines were playing a stream upon the ship and a fireboat was
flooding her from aft. Jackson came down on the run to see his vessel
being destroyed and his cargo vanishing in black smoke. He had had
trouble with the insurance, and he was worried. Then while he stood
upon the dock and spoke to me as I stood upon the rail amidships, I was
aware of a small figure near him.
"'Aw, say, Bo, youse better get away from there--cut out, see? There's
powder to blow youse to hell and back right there in that lighter.
Youse ain't got more'n a minute, cully. Better git gay wid de lines.'
"Then I recognized Willie. He had come down to see the blaze and was
calling attention to the thing we had forgotten for the moment.
"'Call de watch, an' I'll lend youse a hand.'
"I called for Jones to slack off the after lines, and then I ran as
far as I could into the smoke and managed to cast off forward, getting
nearly drowned with the engine water. Jackson came aboard and worked
like mad. The stern lines were cast off, but before we could do
anything the ship began to swing right down upon the barge. The slip
was too narrow to get the dynamite past the vessel, and there she was
now surging ahead upon it. She had both blocked the slip and surged
into it. I began to yell to the men standing about to get away from the
place before the explosion. They had crowded about as close as they
could to see the fire, not knowing anything about what was on the barge.
"Jackson rushed aft and howled to the fireboat to pass a line, as the
wind was now blowing her slowly across the slip and right upon the
dynamite. Every one who could understand me began to run. The dock
cleared off quickly. Then, just as I was about to jump ashore myself, I
heard a voice close to the rail.
"'Aw, say, Bo, give me a heavin' line--I kin swim acrost the slip--den
hurry up an' bend de hawser, youse can heave her over easy enough.
Don't get nutty.'
"I saw Willie standing there, and without further ado I threw him the
end of a small line. He jumped in without a word and swam rapidly
across the narrow stretch of water to the other dock. A man on the pier
reached down and took the line from the lad. I had already bent on the
hawser, and it went across lively. Then taking the end to the midship
capstan, I got old Jones to hold the turns while I walked her around as
fast as I could.
"But I was not strong enough to warp a heavy ship across a slip even
in still water. The ship surged ahead slowly in spite of all I could
do, and Jackson grabbed a capstan bar to help. It was a poor chance at
best, but we worked on. I caught a glimpse of a slight figure working
upon the deck of the barge, throwing cases of powder overboard. A man
appeared with him, but I could not take time to see much. The boxes
were cases of about a hundred pounds each, and they were rapidly
going overboard, and with the tide through the dock. Minutes passed,
but nothing happened. We seemed to be getting way upon the ship, and
Jackson swore and strove mightily to save her, with no thought of
leaving even in the face of a terrific explosion. We would have gone
clear all right but for the fact we had our port anchor over and
hanging from the cathead. We had warped the ship clear of the barge,
and her bow swung over, the line being too far aft and the fire and
water too dangerous to work in forward. The fluke of the anchor swept a
pile of boxes--about three hundred pounds---and then came the crash. It
was terrific. The fluke was clear of the ship's hull by several feet,
but it was blown through the deck, the five-thousand-pound anchor flung
like a toy through her side. She shook from end to end. We were all
blown flat, stunned, although we had many feet of solid vessel between
us and the blast.
"When we came around from the shock of the explosion Jackson had the
pleasure of seeing his ship without a bowsprit, her nose blown clear
off, but the fire was blown out. There was not even much smoke left.
The barge had entirely vanished.
"The firemen came aboard afterward, and so did many shipmasters, whose
vessels lay in the vicinity. Jackson met them dumbly. He said nothing.
"'Good thing they got the dynamite overboard quick enough,' said
Captain Smith of the _Sunnerdun_. 'That boy, whoever he was, was all
right. The watchman ran away just before the smash.'
"'What boy?' asked a fireman.
"But it was no use to tell us what boy--we knew, we felt, it all along.
"Yes, that was the end of him. He had tried to save the ship, his
father's ship--and he had done it when men failed--I don't know--I
can't judge him. Old man Jackson left without a word, and I never saw
him again."