Crossing the Line
"Mr. Mostyn."
"Sir?"
"Did you by any chance use the owner's code-book during the middle
watch?"
"No, sir."
"Very good; carry on."
This was the brief conversation between the Captain and the Wireless
Officer. The Old Man had by some unaccountable intuition fostered the
idea that the code-book was the object of the intruder's presence.
Mostyn had a right to make use of it, and, before probing deeper into
the problem, Captain Bullock had questioned him.
The skipper had a keen insight into human nature. In his official
capacity he had come into contact with hundreds, nay thousands, of
human beings for whose safety and welfare he, under Providence, was
responsible. Some were notables, the majority common-place
individuals, and not a few persons with unenviable reputations. He had
had on board escaping murderers, defaulting company promoters,
fraudulent trustees, absconding cashiers, and a variety of other
criminals from the "flash" cracksman to the common "lag". Professional
gamblers, sharpers, and pickpockets had passed his way on the broad
highway between Great Britain and the Dominion of South Africa.
Captain Bullock was generally very quick in "knowing his man". Rarely
was he mistaken in his speedy yet calculating judgment. Already he had
his Wireless Officer "sized up", and the verdict was favourable. Hence
Peter Mostyn's "No, sir," was sufficient. The Old Man knew that he had
spoken the truth and that he was not the mysterious intruder.
Anstey, the officer of the watch, was likewise questioned. He, too,
was emphatic that he had not entered the Captain's cabin, nor had he
seen anyone doing so during the middle watch.
For some days Captain Bullock pondered over the incident, blaming
himself for not having challenged the intruder. Then he began to let
the matter dwindle in importance, and by the time the ship reached Las
Palmas he had practically forgotten all about it.
In fine, excessively hot weather the _West Barbican_ approached the
Line. No tropical storm greeted her as she entered the once dreaded
Doldrums, that belt of calms which has yielded its powers of holding
ships captive for days on end, to the all-conquering steam and
internal-combustion engines. Rarely now is there a sailing-ship to be
sighted wallowing helplessly in the Doldrums, her decks and topsides
opening with the terrific heat, and her crew driven almost mad with the
torturing glare of the tropical sun. Auxiliary power has changed all
that, and even the huge, square-rigged ship engaged in trading round
the Horn is now equipped with a semi-Diesel capable of pushing her
along at a modest four or five knots in a calm.
Preparations to pay the customary honours to Father Neptune were in
full swing on board the _West Barbican_. For days before the ship was
due to cross the Line all the officers and twenty-five per cent of the
passengers became temporary inquiry agents. Seemingly casual
conversation was entered into with the primary object of discovering
who had or who had not "crossed the Line". Within a few minutes of an
unguarded remark being made by a passenger to the effect that he had
not been in southern latitudes, that fact was duly recorded in a
notebook by the indefatigable Acting Chief Officer. Preston was a
veritable sleuth-hound in these matters, and already his "bag" was
assuming favourable proportions.
Among the names recorded were those of Partridge and Plover. The two
Watchers had never heard of the time-honoured ceremony, and were in
utter ignorance of the ordeal through which they would have to pass.
Their lack of general knowledge, combined with a somewhat surly
reticence, had made them no friends on board. They kept to themselves,
hardly exchanging a word with anyone else except when duty compelled
them to speak.
At length the eventful day arrived when the ship was due to cross the
parallel of maximum length. Soon after day-break eager lascars had
been employed in spreading a huge tarpaulin over a rectangular frame,
so as to form a large bath. At one end, facing the for'ard portion of
the promenade deck, a platform was erected and draped with bunting.
Behind locked doors officers off duty lurked in their cabins,
contriving weird and startling disguises for the Sea King's festival.
The donkey-engines were started--not with the idea of ejecting bilge
water, but for the purpose of pumping a copious supply of salt water
into the improvised tank.
On the bridge Preston was "shooting the sun". Again and again he
levelled his sextant, until he was satisfied that the ship was within a
few miles of the Line. Then, hastily reporting the fact to the Old
Man, he disappeared down the companion-ladder to change with the utmost
speed into a wondrous garb comprised chiefly of a bathing-suit,
seaweed, and oyster-shells. Next, assisted by an individual who
resembled a cross between George Robey and Little Tich, and who was to
appear as the doctor, Father Neptune donned flowing locks and beard of
picked oakum, assumed a massive crown of tinsel, and grasped his
trident.
At that moment the ship's siren gave a terrific blast. It was the
signal that Neptune's cortege had been sighted by the look out for'ard.
The fo'c'sle and foremost shrouds were packed with eagerly
gesticulating lascars; native firemen squatted on the decks on either
side of the tank, and clung like flies to the stanchion-rails. On the
promenade deck all available camp-chairs had been pressed into service
and were occupied by excited passengers, trying to keep cool in vain,
in spite of the double awnings.
Presently Captain Bullock, resplendent in white tropical uniform with
gilt buttons and shoulder-straps, descended from the bridge and took up
a position in the centre of the front row of crowded deck-chairs.
"Ahoy!" roared a deep voice for'ard. "What ship is that?"
"The S.S. _West Barbican_, of and from London," bawled the Old Man in
reply.
"Then harkee, Skipper. Father Neptune demands entrance and the honour
due to his exalted rank."
"Come aboard, sir," rejoined the Old Man.
Heralded by a fanfare from hand fog-horns, and a terrific din from a
variety of metal implements, begged, borrowed, or stolen from the
galley, Father Neptune appeared not exactly over but close to the bows.
Brandishing his trident he bellowed a nautical greeting, and proceeded
to assist his Queen through the limited space of the hatchway. It was
soon evident that the lady was in difficulties and a plainly audible,
"Steady on, old man," delivered in a very masculine voice, had the
effect of raising a boisterous chorus of laughter from the sightseers.
Amphitrite, disentangled from the embraces of a catch on the
hatch-cover, appeared in her lord's wake, but the effect of her flowing
locks of golden hair and her deeply rouged face were somewhat marred by
the display of a pair of unmistakably masculine hands and feet.
The doctor and the barber next struggled for publicity, each
questioning the other's right of precedence, with the result that each
contrived to get his head through the hatchway and no farther.
It was not until the barber had converted the doctor's hat into a
concertina that the former contrived to make a complete appearance,
followed by the doctor, who, in his broad Scotch that betrayed him as
M'Turk the Chief Engineer, requested his companion "not to play the
fule beforr your time".
Then came the bears--grotesquely garbed fellows recruited mainly from
the Chief Steward's department, but with the residue of the engineers
off duty to leaven the whole lump. Almost before King Neptune and his
Queen were seated upon their respective thrones the zealous bears had
scattered to rope in the victims of the revels.
The first to be brought into the arena was Watcher Partridge. His
opposite number, scenting trouble, had deserted him, and was making his
way to the stokehold, hotly pursued by a couple of brawny bears.
Partridge submitted sullenly. Without a word or act of protest he was
led before the doctor.
"Are ye no' weel, laddie?" inquired the doctor. "Open your mouth and
show your tongue."
The bird obeyed.
The next instant he was spluttering and coughing, for the doctor had
dexterously placed a pill, composed of the unholiest ingredients of the
engineers' stores, in the wide-open cavity. Still spluttering, he was
again seized by the attendant bears, blindfolded, and forced into the
barber's chair.
The barber eyed the agitated Partridge dispassionately.
"Hair cut or shave?" he inquired, and, receiving no reply, he seized
one of his razors, a formidable-looking instrument fashioned out of a
barrel stave.
A few deft strokes and the deed was done. Partridge, released from the
chair, sprang to his feet amidst the delighted howls of the spectators.
One side of his face was streaked with Stockholm tar, the other with
red ochre.
"Run for it!" exclaimed one of the bears, guiding the bewildered
Partridge towards the tank. The bird hopped it, trod on air as one
foot overstepped the narrow edge, and, with a sousing splash, he
plunged headlong into the water.
He had barely time to gasp for breath when a bear ducked him. Thrice
this operation was repeated before the pie-bald Watcher was allowed to
escape, without even receiving King Neptune's congratulations upon
becoming a Son of the Sea.
The while other victims were being attended to by the doctor and the
barber, and unceremoniously bundled into the tank.
For the most part they accepted the situation with a good grace. In
the case of the passengers who had not crossed the Line before, certain
allowances had been made for them; nevertheless some were rather
rigorously handled before receiving their diplomas as Freemen of the
Seas. Since they had received short notice to the effect that it would
be as well if they "rigged out" to be in readiness for a ducking, they
took the hint, changing into bathing-costumes or any old clothes
obtainable.
One passenger, a burly, six-feet-two individual, with huge biceps
showing up under the tight sleeves of his bathing-suit, certainly gave
the bears a run for their money; for, when they went to bring him to
Neptune's court, they found that he had put on a pair of boxing-gloves.
"Come on!" he exclaimed, with a good-tempered laugh. "I'll take on the
whole crowd, Neptune included."
Nothing loth, a plucky little bear stooped and rushed in to collar the
defiant passenger round the waist. The next instant he was sent
staggering into the arms of one of his companions, and the two
floundered on the deck, capsizing the barber and his two pots of ochre
and tar.
"At him, lads!" roared Neptune, forgetting in his excitement that he
was playing the role of King of the Sea.
Five or six bears rushed at the man from opposite sides. He waited
until they were almost on him, then, without the faintest sign of his
intention, dived straight at the feet of those on his right.
There was weight and power behind those hunched shoulders. Three of
his assailants, swept off their feet, crashed to the deck, while their
comrades, unable to check the impetus of their rush, tumbled in a
confused heap upon the baffled, sprawling three.
From under this struggling mob, like a porpoise in an angry sea,
emerged the stalwart passenger. Springing to his feet he dashed up the
ladder to the promenade-deck, cleared a way between the throng of
spectators, who cheered him heartily, and gained the boat-deck.
For a while he paused to contemplate the sorting out of the discomfited
bears; then, finding his pursuers hard on his track, he scaled the side
of the wireless-cabin. On the roof he took up his stand. With his
broad back against the trunk of the aerial it looked as if he could
hold his own against all comers.
The lascars were beside themselves with excitement. The passengers,
leaving the shelter of the double awnings, stood under the blazing sun,
straining their eyes in the dazzling glare as they watched the tactics
of their champion.
"Lasso him, lads!" shouted Neptune, laying aside his trident and
preparing to take an active part in the subjugation of his recalcitrant
subject.
Some of the bears hurried off to obtain ropes. Others waited by the
base of the wireless-cabin, feeling decidedly uncomfortable as the hot
sun played upon their scanty, wet garments.
Just then another party of bears came for'ard dragging the luckless
Plover, whom they had captured in an empty bunker.
The appearance of the second bird created a diversion. The bears
guarding the wireless-cabin, eager to witness the initiation of the
unpopular Plover, lost interest in the huge passenger on the roof.
In a trice the latter slid down to the bridge, swung himself down by a
stanchion to the promenade-deck and thence to the enemies' camp--the
temporary court of Father Neptune.
Hurling aside the doctor, who had already received rougher treatment
than he had meted out to his victims, the defiant subject of King
Neptune made a bull-like rush for that august monarch.
The next moment they were at grips. In spite of wearing boxing-gloves
the stalwart passenger held Neptune tightly round the waist. The
latter strove with his sinewy hands to disengage himself from the
powerful embrace. In the struggle Neptune's tinsel crown slipped over
one eye and his tow-beard fell off, revealing the rugged features of
Acting Chief Officer Preston.
For about thirty seconds the two men struggled furiously, yet the
keenest observer could detect no trace of bad temper. The adversaries
were sportsmen both, who knew how to keep themselves under control.
With the sweat pouring in streams down their faces they continued
swaying and heaving. Both were of about the same weight and build.
Preston had the handicap of about ten years, but he was as fit as a
fiddle and hard as nails.
Amphitrite had discreetly retired from the arena, while the bears,
unwilling to take an unfair advantage of their intended prey, stood in
a semicircle, impartially encouraging both adversaries. Even Captain
Bullock, who through long usage had become bored stiff with the
"crossing of the Line revels", was on his feet shouting excitedly at
the novel spectacle of Neptune being bearded in his den.
Suddenly the unexpected climax happened.
Before anyone could utter a warning or check the impetuous movement of
the two wrestlers, Preston was forced to the edge of the temporary
dais, which was on a level with the wire guard-rails.
Probably his antagonist was blinded by the perspiration running into
his eyes, because he failed to see the danger resulting from his
headlong rush.
Locked in each other's arms the two men disappeared over the side of
the ship.
[Illustration: THE TWO MEN DISAPPEARED OVER THE SIDE OF THE SHIP]