"JOCKO."
"I believe I do, Mick," I said, squinting down as eagerly as himself
into the boat, near to which the ship was gradually sidling up, her way
having been checked by her being brought up to the wind and the maintop-
sail backed. "They are very quiet, poor chaps. I wonder if they are
all dead?"
The same thought seemed to have occurred to the old commodore; for, as I
said this, in pursuance of some order he must have given to that
effect--for nobody does a thing on board a man-o'-war without the
previous command of his superior officer--the boatswain hailed the
little craft.
"Boat ahoy!" he shouted, with his lungs of brass and voice of a bull.
"Ahoy! Ahoy-oy!"
No answer came, nor was there any movement amongst the boat's occupants,
who were lying pell-mell along the thwarts and on the bottom boards in
her sternsheets.
"Poor fellows, they must be all dead!" exclaimed the commodore, almost
in my own words. "Mr Osborne, get a boat ready to send off and
overhaul her!"
The officer of the watch, however, had already made preparations to this
end, the first cutter's crew having been piped and the men standing
ready by the davits to lower her into the water, with the gripes cast
off and the falls cleared.
"All ready there, coxsun, eh?" he cried; and then, without waiting for
any answer, he sang out, "Lower away!"
Down glided the cutter into the water as the hands inboard eased off the
falls; and, her crew having dropped their oars, the next minute she was
pulling out towards the boat, which was now only some twenty yards or so
off the ship, abreast of our mizzen-chains.
Of course, we could see from the ship all that went on as the cutter
sheered up to the derelict craft. The bowman was standing up with his
boathook ready to hook on when he got near enough, and Mr Osborne, the
`first luff,' standing up likewise astern to inspect the better the boat
and its motionless occupants, he himself having gone away in the cutter,
seeing how anxious the commodore seemed in the matter, instead of
sending a young midshipman as usual.
Something strange must have happened, for, as our boat touched the
other, we could hear a startled cry from Mr Osborne, followed by a sort
of suppressed groan from the cutter's crew.
This reached the commodore's ear. "Cutter, ahoy!" he hailed. "Any one
alive?"
"No, sir," came back the reply from Mr Osborne, in a sad tone. "All
are dead--and a fearful death too!"
"Why," called out the commodore eagerly, as curious as all of us were,
"what's the matter?"
"Struck by lightning, I think, sir," answered Mr Osborne, who held his
handkerchief to his face and spoke in a stifled voice, after bending
down and looking over into the sternsheets of the derelict. "Can't say
exactly, sir. They're in an awful state!"
"Ho, bad job!" muttered the commodore aft, on the poop, as if talking to
himself; and then in a louder key he sang out, "You'd better bring the
boat alongside and let the doctor see them!"
Thereupon the bowman hitching the cutter's painter to the stem of the
other boat which projected above the gunwale, and letting out the slack
of the rope so as the boat should not come too close, Mr Osborne giving
some order to that effect, they took her in tow, and in a few strokes
were alongside the ship again.
When they came up, there was no reason for any one to ask why the first
lieutenant had held his handkerchief to his face.
The stench was abominable!
The doctor, who was ready and waiting at the ship's side, at once went
down by the commodore's orders and examined the dead men, who we now saw
were five in number, though they smelt like five hundred.
"Bedad, Tom," said Mick to me, as we looked down over the side, holding
our noses--as, indeed, everybody on board was doing, every man-jack in
the ship, I think, being on deck, from the old commodore down to the
youngest middy and ship's boy--"Oi nivver smilt a shmell loike thet
since me faither an' Oi wor at Clontarf whin they opened the graveyard
theer, and toorned the owld coffins out wid the bones rattlin' aboot in
thim jist loike pays in a pannikin, sure, whin we're goin' fur to make
pay-soup, or pay doo, ez we used fur to call it aboard the owld _Saint
Vincent_!"
Mr Osborne meanwhile had come up the side; and from where Mick and I
were standing, by the mizzen-chains, I could hear distinctly every word
he said, though I missed the first part, from Mick Donovan speaking to
me at the moment, and he was in the middle of a sentence when I began to
take in his words.
"--Must have been a terrible scrimmage, sir. One of the cutlasses seems
covered with dry blood right up to the hilt; while the two dead chaps
between the thwarts are cut about and carved in all directions. The lot
of them, no doubt, were at it hammer and tongs when the flash came."
"Begorrah," whispered Mick in my ear, in comment on this statement, "it
wor jist loike the two Kilkenny cats, sure, who fought till thaire wor
ownly theer tails lift, sure!"
The commodore, however, took a graver view of the matter.
"It must have been awfully sudden, Mr Osborne," he said; "and you think
they were runaways or mutineers?"
"I'm sure of it," replied `Number One' significantly. "There are a lot
of gold coins and dollars scattered about in the bottom of the boat,
besides an open bundle containing a collection of watches and other
jewellery; and, from the greasy pack of cards lying alongside these, I
fancy they must have been playing for the plunder and quarrelled about
the division of it!"
"Then the lightning came and settled the thing for good and all," said
the commodore solemnly, sinking his voice to an impressive tone. "It
was the judgment of God!"
The doctor, after a very brief stay in the boat, came up the side again
and made his report to our chief.
"All of them must have been killed instanter by the one flash of
lightning, which seems to have gone all over the boat, zigzagging in a
most curious manner," said he. "The electric fluid, sir, has actually
fused the blade of one of the cutlasses, and melted down the dollars and
doubloons, which the poor devils must have been gambling with, all into
a solid mass in the bottom of the boat!"
"Indeed!"
"Yes, sir," affirmed the doctor, in answer to this exclamation from the
commodore. "But the lightning, sir, has done something more wonderful
than that, which I would not have believed unless I had seen it myself.
I pulled open the shirt of one of the dead men, and there, on his
breast, was a perfect photograph, as if done in Indian ink, of a ship in
full sail, like the one which nearly collided with us the other day and
afterwards foundered!"
"Pooh!" cried the commodore incredulously. "It is probably a tattoo
mark, the same as all sailors like to deface their bodies with."
"Oh no, sir," persisted Doctor Mopson. "It's a real photograph printed
by the flash of lightning. I've seen too many tattoo marks in my time
while examining fellows in the sick-bay not to recognise them. This is
plainly done by the electric fluid--you can see it for yourself, sir!"
"Thanks," said the commodore drily, walking to the other side of the
deck and putting his silk handkerchief to his face, a very unpleasant
whiff from the boat, which was still alongside, coming inboard. "I'll
take your word for it, doctor, as you say it is so. I wonder if those
fellows really belonged to that unfortunate ship?"
"Not unlikely, sir," said Mr Osborne, thinking the commodore, who had
soliloquised aloud, according to his habit, had addressed the question
to him. "The vessel did not seem to have a man on board her as far as I
could see. Perhaps these dead beggars here plundered her and abandoned
her after murdering their captain and officers!"
"Perhaps so," agreed our chief; "but, in any case, whether they have met
with their just deserts or not--and for my part I am inclined to believe
the former--we must give them Christian burial. I think, Mr Osborne,
you had better let their boat be their coffin."
"By far the best plan, sir," put in the doctor, on the commodore looking
towards him. "The lightning has so decomposed the corpses that it would
be impossible to handle them, and it would be detrimental to the health
of those touching them, too."
This decided the commodore, who thereupon gave orders that some pigs of
ballast should be put within the boat, and that it should be afterwards
boarded over with a few rough planks.
This, Mr Chips the carpenter, with the aid of his mates, quickly
accomplished; and then the boat, with its ghastly contents now happily
concealed from view, was drawn up half out of the water, suspended from
one of the davits, and holes bored in the bottom.
When all was ready, the `assembly' was sounded, and we all stood
bareheaded along the deck, drawn up as at `divisions,' while the
chaplain read a brief funeral service; and, on the conclusion of this,
the painter that held up the boat being severed, the coffin-craft sank
slowly below the surface to the fathomless abysses of one of the deepest
parts of the Atlantic--for I heard the navigating officer tell Mr
Osborne that soundings had been got here showing a depth of over four
miles.
The funeral finished, the hands were piped down; and then, our yards
being squared again, we bore away once more for the Azores, reaching
Saint Michael's a few days later, in company with the rest of the
squadron.
This island, like the majority of the Azores, is of volcanic origin;
and, looking at it from the sea, even when near in, it is not a very
picturesque object, the conical hills and extinct craters giving it a
monotonous, if mountainous, aspect.
We anchored off Ponta Delgado, about three-quarters of a mile off shore,
in twenty-five fathom water, and, as we stopped there a couple of days,
we were allowed short leave, each watch in turn, to land and see the
sights.
These, beyond the flowers, which were beautiful from the effects of the
volcanic soil, did not amount to much; and as the inhabitants are all
Portuguese, whom we did not tackle to much, the ladies all wearing long
cloaks with cowl-like hoods, the same as monks, which prevented us from
seeing their faces, I can't say we enjoyed our visit to the town as
greatly as we thought we would when we put off from the ship.
We obtained one acquisition here to our company however, which pleased
all hands.
This was a little black wiry monkey that originally came from the
Spanish Main, I believe, being landed at Ponta Delgado by some passing
ship; and which Doctor Mopson brought on board, from "motives of
humanity," as he said, having seen its Portugee owner ill-treating it,
and, besides, on account of his being "long desirous of dissecting this
specimen of the simian family," as I heard him tell that brute
Lieutenant Robinson, who I saw enjoyed the prospect of seeing the poor
little thing cut up.
The doctor, though, had only spoken in joke, he being a most good-
hearted chap who would not have hurt a fly, except inadvertently, should
he happen to have to treat the animal professionally; so, instead of
being dissected, `Jocko,' as he was christened, was made free of the
ship, and presently became a prime favourite with all on board.
He was certainly a clever little chap, performing all sorts of tricks,
and being up to all sorts of mischief.
"Begorrah," as Mick said, "he can do ivv'rythin' save spake; an' thet
the artful joker won't do, faith, bekase he thinks, sure, we'll make him
wurrk!"
One day on our passage home to England, `Jocko' got into as great
disgrace as I did that time when I was `caught in the act,' smoking, on
board the _Saint Vincent_.
Master monkey, if you please, managed to get into the chaplain's cabin
through the scuttle, the door being locked on purpose to prevent his
intrusion.
It was on a Saturday when this occurred, a day the Reverend Mr Tibbits
devoted to composing his usual Sunday sermon, which lay on his desk
neatly written out on the usual official foolscap; the worthy gentleman
having just completed his task of attending to our spiritual needs on
the morrow, and being then engaged in recruiting his own inner man,
after his arduous labours, with lunch in the wardroom mess.
Hence, the chaplain's temporal necessity was Jocko's opportunity.
Seeing the fine field open for the exercise of his ingenious
imagination, Jocko set to work as speedily as possible, to see what
havoc he could make in the short time the sagacious animal knew he had
at his disposal; and he seized hold in some way or other of a big quart
bottle of ink which the chaplain kept for a reserve stock on top of the
bookcase at the side--at least so it was thought afterwards, no one, of
course, having seen him do it.
This, with an artistic idea of effect, the monkey poured liberally, not
only over the sermon and other papers that lay on the table, but on the
reverend gentleman's sheets as well, Jocko probably thinking a black
colour would be more suitable and in keeping with the clerical garments
that hung from some clothes-pegs adjacent.
Next, Mr Jocko appropriated the chaplain's Bible, and `diligently
searched the Scriptures' for some time, with great care tearing out
those leaves, and there were many, containing passages which
particularly struck his fancy.
A large prayer-book, whose type or binding offended him in some way or
other, he took up with his paws and very carefully dropped through the
scuttle, to refresh the souls of the fishes below.
What mischief he might have done further, no one knows; for at that
moment the chaplain opened the door and interrupted Jocko at his
devotional exercises.
From the yell he gave out, as the wardroom steward subsequently
detailed, the Reverend Mr Tibbits must have believed His Satanic
Majesty was in possession of his cabin; and, on his realising the
character of his visitor properly, ere he could clutch hold of Jocko,
who was then chattering away in high glee and making hideous faces, his
invariable habit when he expected punishment after some evil deed as
now, the agile monkey, gripping a portion of the ink-sodden sermon in
one paw, and the chaplain's black velvet skull-cap in the other,
vanished through the open scuttle by which he had obtained admittance,
proceeding up the side as nimbly as one of the foretopmen to the
crosstrees aloft, where he put on the skull-cap and very possibly
pondered over all that he had done.
He had reason to; for a fiat of banishment from the wardroom and its
approaches was the sequel to his escapade, in addition to a severe
thrashing after he was caught, which it took the watch the whole
afternoon to effect, Jocko playing a fine game of `follow my leader' up
the shrouds and down the stays, from one end of the ship to the other,
until, tired out at last, he surrendered and took his flogging, like a
monkey if not like a man.
Exiled from aft the main-hatchway, Mr Jocko took up his quarters with
the boatswain, who offered to assume charge of him when Doctor Mopson
gave him up as a bad job and the other officers repudiated him; and,
being now able to associate with us forward more freely, he quickly
learnt all manner of new tricks, using a glass, for instance, as well as
a signalman, and another sort of glass, especially if it contained grog,
as expertly as Joblins did, when he had the chance.
On our voyage home from the Azores he afforded rare fun to all of us,
the men dressing him up in regular sailor rig, and the carpenter's mate
carving a rifle and sword-bayonet for him out of a bit of wood that was
handy.
With this, Jocko used to take his place with the starboard watch when we
beat to quarters, and the men would come hurrying up on deck hastily
with their weapons each to his station.
You should only have seen him sight his rifle and pretend to aim at an
imaginary enemy; while at the order to `repel boarders' he would drop
down in a half-sitting posture, looking as comical as possible, holding
his sword-bayonet at the charge.
On these occasions he would always range himself by the side of Mick,
whom he selected in preference to all the rest of the ship's company as
his chosen associate.
The boatswain noticed this; and one day in the early part of April, as
we were coming up Channel on our return from our cruise and nearing
Spithead, being just abreast of the projecting headland of Dunose on the
south side of the Isle of Wight, Mr Blockley comes up to Mick as he and
I and Jocko were standing on the forecastle.