THE GHOSTS OF THE SANTA MARIA.
“HALLOO! what do you want here, you lubbers?” demanded the captain, as
the sailors, headed by Upham, ranged themselves on the quarter-deck in
front of him and took off their caps. “I don’t allow any such doings as
this aboard my ship. Go for’ard where you belong.”
“We haven’t come for any mischief, cap’n,” said Upham, who had been
chosen to do the talking for his companions. “We’re all sailor men, and
know our duty.”
“Then go for’ard and do it,” said the skipper angrily. “Away you go.”
“We’re ready to obey orders, cap’n, and you sha’n’t have a word of fault
to find with none of us, if you will only think up some way to git rid
of them other fellows. It’s more than human flesh and blood can stand to
have them aboard here.”
“What other fellows?”
“Why, them in the hold that keeps up such a wailing and groaning all the
while.”
“Get out o’ this!” shouted the captain, looking about the deck as if he
were searching for something to throw at Upham’s head. “I’ve heard
enough. You pulled the wool over the eyes of a lot of soft Tommys on
shore and kept us waiting three days for a crew, but you can’t talk any
of your ghost stories into me. Go to your duty.”
“We’ve done our duty since we’ve been aboard, cap’n,” returned Upham,
“and we’re ready to keep on doing it if you will only get rid of that
other crew, but not a tack or sheet do we touch till this thing has been
looked into. We’ve all made up our minds to that.”
“Oh, you’re going to mutiny, are you?” roared the skipper, his face
growing purple with fury. “I’ll show you how I deal with such men. Mr.
Schwartz, just step down into the cabin and bring up my pistols.”
The second mate started in obedience to the order, but the sailors, who
were drawn up in line across the deck, moved forward as one man, and
stood between him and the companion-way.
Things were getting serious, and Guy, who stood on the outskirts of the
crowd, began edging his way toward the bow. Was he going after his
handspike? No; he intended to dodge into the forecastle, where he would
be safe. If the captain was going to use fire-arms to bring his crew to
their senses, he did not want to be found in the way of the bullets.
The skipper’s actions indicated that he was in just the right humor to
do something desperate. He stamped about the deck and swore at the top
of his voice, but it was plain that, in spite of all his bluster, he was
cowed by the bold front of his crew. When he paused to take breath,
Upham spoke.
“We don’t want to go agin yer, cap’n,” said he, “and we don’t want to
talk no ghost stories into you, neither. All we ask of you is to come
down into the forecastle and listen to ’em with your own ears. I’ve
heard ’em, and I hain’t a boy to be scared at nothing. I snuffed salt
water before you ever saw daylight.”
The captain seemed on the point of making an angry reply, but just then
the second mate, after holding a short consultation with the first
officer, stepped up and said something to him in a whisper. The sailors
could not hear what it was, but they saw the skipper’s face brighten at
once.
“It may be possible,” said he, aloud. “I did not think of that. Come on,
men; I’ll soon get at the bottom of the matter.”
The captain led the way into the forecastle, and the sailors flocked
down the ladder after him, Guy bringing up the rear.
“Now fetch on your ghosts,” said the skipper, seating himself on one of
the bunks.
“Avast heaving a minute, cap’n, and you’ll see ’em,” said Upham.
The silence that followed continued so long that the sailors began to
get impatient, but not so the captain. The few words the second mate
whispered in his ear had aroused some suspicions in his mind, and he was
resolved that they should either be confirmed or entirely set at rest
before he left the forecastle.
Ten minutes passed, and then the groans that had startled the crew the
night before were distinctly heard, followed by the low murmur of
conversation. The captain seemed very much annoyed. He arose from his
seat, and placing his ear close against the bulk-head, stood there
listening intently until the sounds ceased.
“They’re there sure enough, cap’n,” said Upham. “You see that we wasn’t
complaining of nothing.”
“I am satisfied of it now,” was the reply. “Get lanterns, a couple of
you, and all the port watch come with me into the hold. Bring handspikes
every mother’s son of you.”
“Handspikes won’t do no good,” growled Flint, after the captain had
ascended from the forecastle.
“No,” assented Upham. “I never yet heard of a ghost being knocked down
and put in irons.”
Judging by the expression on the faces of the sailors, there was not a
man in the port watch who did not wish that somebody besides himself had
been called upon to accompany the captain. The alarm that prevailed
among them was contagious, and even Guy began to give way to it. He
believed, with Flint and Upham, that there was something in the hold
that could not be overcome with weapons, and when he went aft with his
watch, armed like the rest with a handspike, he stationed himself at the
heels of the captain with the determination to keep close to him. He had
faith in the skipper’s courage and prowess, and, moreover, he saw that
the latter carried pistols in his pockets. Pistols were better than
handspikes any day, even in an encounter with ghosts.
In obedience to the orders of the mate, one of the hatches was opened,
and the captain descended into the hold, followed by the port watch.
Slowly they made their way along a narrow passage toward the place where
the water-butts were stowed, and when they came within sight of them
they stopped, astonished by the scene presented to their gaze. Some of
the sailors took just one look, and then uttered exclamations of alarm
and turned to retreat. Guy would have done the same, only he could not.
He was so badly frightened that he could neither move nor speak.
A portion of the cargo had been broken out, forming a clear space about
six feet square and as many feet deep, and in it were seated the objects
that had excited his alarm—not ghosts, but living men, who held cocked
pistols in their hands, and whose faces denoted that they were anything
but pleased at the discovery of their hiding-place. In the center of
this clear space was a fourth man, lying flat on his back, and pinned
down by a box of goods which had doubtless been thrown upon him by the
lurching of the vessel. The box was so large and heavy, and his
companions had so little room to work in, that they had not been able to
release him; and there the poor fellow had lain for long hours suffering
intense agony, which was increased by every lurch the vessel gave. He it
was who had given utterance to the groans which had so greatly alarmed
the crew. The men, whoever they were, had come on board prepared for a
long voyage, for they had brought with them a large bag of provisions,
and had tapped one of the butts to get a supply of water.
“Well,” said the captain, as soon as the volley of exclamations which
arose from the sailors had subsided, so that he could make himself
heard, “this thing has turned out just as I expected it would. You’re
the lads that robbed the jewelry store, I suppose.”
“Why, so they are!” exclaimed Guy, who now comprehended the matter
perfectly; “I knew they couldn’t be ghosts.”
“Who and what we are is no business of yours,” answered one of the men
gruffly.
“It isn’t, ’eh?” exclaimed the captain. “I am master of this ship, if
you only knew it. Come up out of that.”
“No, we’ll not go up, and if you know when you are well off you’ll not
come down to us, either. We are all armed, as you see, and the first man
who makes a move to lay a hand on us will get a bullet through his
head.”
“Cap’n,” said Flint, who was brave enough now that he knew they had live
men and not dead ones to deal with, “just say the word and I’ll jump
down there and toss that fellow out before he knows what is the matter
with him.”
“No, no,” said the captain. “Stay where you are. I know how to deal with
’em. Where are you lads going?” he added, holding one of the lanterns
over the robbers’ hiding-place and taking a good survey of it.
“We’re going wherever the ship goes,” was the surly reply.
“Well, you’ll have a good long ride. This cargo will not be broken out
under seven or eight months. Have you got provisions enough to last you
that long?”
“You needn’t lose no sleep in worrying about that.”
“I won’t, for it’s your lookout, not mine. Hadn’t you better let me rig
a whip and hoist that box off that man? It’s a pity to keep him in that
fix.”
“And after you get it hoisted off you would try to come some of your
sailor tricks over us,” said the robber. “We ain’t quite so green as
that. You just go off and attend to your own business. We’ll take care
of him.”
“All right. Mark you now, my fine lads, I’m going to close and batten
down my hatches, and they sha’n’t be opened again until we reach port,
no matter what happens. If the ship goes to the bottom you go with her,
and without a chance to save yourselves.”
The skipper turned and crawled back toward the hatchway as he said this,
and the watch followed him. They found their companions on deck
impatiently awaiting their return, and when they heard what the captain
had to say to his mates, and learned that the men in the hold were not
ghosts, as they had supposed, but a gang of burglars, who, in spite of
the vigilance of the watch, had succeeded in smuggling themselves on
board before the ship left port, their surprise knew no bounds. Their
faces, too, as well as the long, deep sighs which came up from their
broad chests showed that their relief was fully as great as their
astonishment.
Guy and the four men he had found on board the Santa Maria when he first
joined her, knew more about the matter than anybody else, except the
officers, they having been on deck while the policeman was talking with
the captain about the burglars. They were obliged to repeat all they had
heard over and over again, first to one and then to another, and Guy
always wound up by declaring that that was the way all ghost stories
turned out—they could be explained easily enough if people would only
take the trouble to look into them.
“Avast there!” said Upham, who happened to overhear this last remark.
“You ain’t done with the old Santa Maria yet. You hain’t seen the ghost
who gets up on the main-topsail yard every night during a gale and says:
“Stand from under!”
By the time the hatches had all been closed and securely fastened, the
captain came up out of his cabin, where he had been busy with his chart.
A few rapid orders, which Guy, as usual, failed to comprehend, were
issued, and the ship stood off on another course.
“The old man isn’t letting grass grow under his feet,” said Flint to
Guy, as he came down out of the top. “He’s going to get rid of them
fellows.”
“What is he going to do with them?” asked Guy.
“He’s going to put ’em ashore. We’re heading for some port now.”
“Are we?” exclaimed Guy, highly delighted at this piece of news. “I wish
we were there now,” he added, sinking his voice to a whisper, and
looking all about to make sure that there was no one within hearing.
“You wouldn’t see me in half an hour from this time. I am going to
desert.”
“And I don’t blame you,” said Flint.
“You will go with me, won’t you?”
“What are you going to do?” asked the sailor; “find another ship?”
“No, sir,” said Guy emphatically. “If I ever put my foot on the deck of
another vessel as a foremast hand, I hope she will go to the bottom with
me. I am going to stay ashore; you may depend upon that.”
“Then I don’t see what good it will do me to go with you, Jack. I’d have
to ship again at once, for I’ve got no money, and I couldn’t find any
work to do ashore, not being a landsman. I might as well stay here. Now
that I know we’ve got no ghosts aboard I shall like the Santa Maria as
well as any other ship.”
“Then I shall have to go alone, I suppose,” said Guy. “I don’t like to
leave you, Flint, but I can’t stand this any longer. I am black and blue
all over from the poundings I have received.”
“And you’re getting as thin as the royal yard,” said Flint. “You’ll be
bait for the crows if you stay aboard this craft till we reach the
Sandwich Islands, and that’s where we’re bound.”
“The Sandwich Islands!” repeated Guy. “I thought we were going up the
Mediterranean.”
“Oh, that’s only one of the pack of lies that shipping agent told you,”
said the sailor, with a laugh. “If you had looked at the articles you
signed, you would have found out all about it. We’re going to discharge
our cargo at San Francisco, take another from there to Honolulu, and
fill up again for New Orleans. Where we shall go after that I don’t
know.”
“We’re going round the Horn, I suppose?”
“Of course. They don’t take ships over the isthmus yet.”
“Then I understand why Smith made me buy so many thick clothes. He said
perhaps I’d see some cold weather.”
“And so you will,” said Flint. “I’ll help you to get off if I can, but I
don’t see the use of going with you. I’d have to leave you again, unless
you would go to sea in some other vessel.”
“And that I’ll never do. I’ll starve on shore first.”
“And I’ll stay aboard the Santa Maria. Have you got any money?”
“Yes, I have sixty dollars and a little over. Do you want some of it?”
“No, I don’t,” said the sailor quickly. “I sha’n’t need any while I am
at sea, but you’ll need it ashore. Here,” he added, taking off his
monk-bag and handing it to Guy, “keep this to remember me by. Put your
money in it, and tie it around your neck, and you won’t be likely to
lose it. You can’t take your bundle with you, of course, so when we
reach port you had better put on another suit of clothes under those
you’ve got on now, and stow away all the dunnage about you that you can
without making yourself look too fat. If you put on too much you might
as well try to leave the ship with a chest on your shoulder, for the
mates will know in a minute what you’re up to. They’re posted in all
sailor tricks. We sha’n’t be long in port, so you had better be in a
hurry. Whatever you do, don’t be caught, or you’ll sup sorrow with a
spoon as big as a water-butt.”
This made Guy open his eyes. He had not expected to find any serious
obstacle in his way. If the ship came to anchor in the harbor to which
they were bound, especially if they arrived there during the night, it
would be but little trouble for him to drop overboard from the
fore-chains and swim ashore, provided the distance were not too great;
and if she were made fast to the dock, it would be still less trouble to
leave her. But now he knew that the officers would be on the watch, that
they well understood every device that could be resorted to by
deserters, and that if he were caught in the act of leaving the vessel,
the treatment he had hitherto received would be mild in comparison with
the punishment that would be inflicted upon him. The thought almost took
Guy’s breath away, but it did not discourage him. He had fully made up
his mind to desert the vessel if it were within the bounds of
possibility, and was not to be easily frightened from his purpose.
He conferred with Flint at every opportunity, and made all necessary
preparations, selecting the clothes he intended to take with him, and
tying them up in a separate bundle together with the “Boy Trappers,” the
book that belonged to Henry Stewart. This book Guy had carefully
preserved. It was the only thing he had left of the hunting outfit which
he had brought with him from home.
On the third day after the discovery of the robbers in the hold, land
was in sight once more, and at nine o’clock in the evening the Santa
Maria entered the port toward which the captain had shaped her course,
and was made fast to the wharf.
Guy did not know what the name of the town was or what country it was
in, and he did not think to inquire. All he cared for was to get safely
off the vessel; he could get his bearings afterward.
As soon as the ship touched the dock the captain jumped ashore, and
hurried away in the darkness—he was going after some officers to arrest
the men in the hold, Flint said—and Guy ran into the forecastle to make
ready for his attempt at desertion. He hastily pulled on the clothes he
had selected, secured the “Boy Trappers” about his person, and having
examined his monk-bag to make sure that his money was safe, presented
himself before his friend, who nodded approvingly.
“It’s all right,” said the sailor. “You’ll pass in the dark. Now stand
here by the side, and I’ll go aft and keep an eye on the mates. When I
see that they are not looking toward you, I’ll cough this way—here Flint
gave an illustration—and do you jump ashore, and run as if Old Nep was
after you with his three-pronged pitchfork. I can’t shake hands with you
for fear they’ll see me and suspect something; but you won’t forget me,
will you, Jack?”
“Never,” replied Guy. “You have been very kind to me, and I wouldn’t
leave you under any other circumstances.”
Flint, who did not care to prolong the interview, walked leisurely aft,
and Guy leaned over the side and impatiently waited for the signal.
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