THE PEOPLE OF THE SEA.
During the first afternoon I was allowed on deck for exercise I
encountered my former companion, the pretended artist. He had laid
away his store clothes, and was dressed in the garb of his adopted
people. His feet were bare, and his knee breeches and jacket were
made of shark’s skin. His coat was laced together up the front like
shoes, and fitted him tightly. His youthful face and long, curly,
brown hair, combined with his costume, gave him a bizarre and
interesting look.
I strode at once to his side and upbraided him in good Flatbush
English for his contemptible treachery. He evinced neither regret nor
humiliation, but smiled sarcastically and replied:
“We must grow. Take my advice and make the best of a mishap that
might have come to any man who possessed the average amount of
curiosity. In a few days we shall have your ship and most of your
officers and crew under our control, and if you really think you will
be lonely among us, our Chief Kantoon will make you the master of
your own ship--after destroying her engines, of course, and twisting
off her propeller, so that she can never escape from us.”
“You mean to tell me, then, to my face,” I hissed, “that your
voyage with me was simply part of the scheme to obtain possession
of the Caribas, and that you intend to add her to your infamous
aggregation?”
Far from being displeased with my ferocity, the young man appeared to
be delighted.
“You will be able to restrain your feelings before long. Life here is
not so bad as you think. You will find our government a rigid but not
a burdensome one. Our taxes are light and our social obligations are
few.”
“What is to become of my crew?” I demanded, still chafing with rage.
“That is a matter that will have to be left entirely to the Chief
Kantoon, who dwells upon a ship at a distance from here, in the
interior of his floating nation. Some time is required to reach his
sacred community in a small boat. It is a very tortuous and laborious
trip to make, through an intricate network of small canals, an inland
sea, like that of Japan, at the further side of which is moored his
floating palace. Good Sargasson commanders visit him once a year. I
have never looked upon his face but once. I am only a child of this
people. I have been among them for five years. I was making a voyage
from Bermuda to the Canary Islands in a schooner. I was taken ill
with smallpox. The heartless captain put me in a small boat and set
me adrift. I became delirious, then unconscious, and after several
days was picked up by the Sargassons, nursed back to life, and have
been their willing slave ever since. I owe my life to them.”
“But what is to become of my officers and crew?” I demanded.
Gray’s manner changed entirely, and I had no occasion to complain of
his frankness.
“Those taken alive,” he began, “will be given the alternative of
assisting in the navigation of the ship to this neighborhood,
after which they must join our community, or suffer ‘the mercy of
extinction.’ With the Sargassons there is only one way of insuring
themselves against the vindictiveness of the world. Nobody is ever
allowed to escape from here. Yes, I know what you are thinking. You
are about to retort that I was allowed to revisit the United States.
You are right in suggesting an explanation of my conduct.”
“I certainly would like to know how you came to be sent to the United
States to involve me in this terrible misfortune,” I interrupted,
with as much scorn as I could put into my voice. “I would not believe
anything you may tell me, however. You are certainly a contemptible
fellow, and I am surprised that even the ‘Sargassons,’ as you call
them, could be induced to repose any confidence in you.”
Without noticing my contemptuous language, Gray continued: “It was
not until I had been put to the supreme test, which you will some day
understand, that I was permitted to return to the United States. I
went only after taking the most solemn and sacred oath that can be
administered to a mortal. Besides, you must remember that I really
owe my life to these people. They rescued me from inevitable death
after my own countrymen, who were followers of my own religion
and supposed to possess all the humanity that it inculcates, had
abandoned me to the sea in a heartless and disgraceful manner. Their
conduct to me on this occasion would have been sufficient, did
nothing else draw me to this strange race, to link my fortune to
theirs. I am a Sargasson, now, before everything else in the world. I
have forsworn my country, my mother, my friendships; and my fidelity
to the people of the Floating Continent could not be shaken by any
blandishment or threats. You will some day, perhaps, understand what
these ties are that attach me so strongly to a life that is unnatural
and, until one is inured to it, uncomfortable. I sincerely hope that
the time may come speedily when you will be fully reconciled to your
destiny, and even experience emotions of gratitude to me for having
been an instrument in the hands of The Grand Kantoon--who rules the
sea, and the air, and whose missionary I was. At present I am sorry
for you, because I know how wretchedly you feel. I am sorry for your
friends and family at home, who will sorrow for you. But there are
worse fates than yours. The span of life among us here is reasonably
long. You possess a constitution of iron that has grown sturdy under
stress of heavy weather, unremitting toil and unrequited zeal. Here
your ability and your courage will find recognition, and no honor
in the gift of the Sargassons is beyond your reach. Be advised,
therefore, by me, the apparent cause of your present condition, and
accept the inevitable, just as we all accept unwilling life at birth,
and just as you must accept the inevitable fate of man, death.”
To say that I was not impressed by the manner and the remarkable
words of this glib rascal would be untrue. I turned upon my heel and
left him.
Darkness set in, but, as I looked out over that strange assemblage
of silent, swaying hulks, I nowhere saw a single light to cheer my
eyes. Darkness was a delight to the Sargassons. I would have found
companionship in a beacon or torch; but even that poor comfort was
denied me. I was conducted to my prison cell, for such it was, and
was locked up for the night.
I threw myself upon the bunk in the vain hope of being able to sleep,
but for hours that boon was denied me. My heart was equally divided
between my family at home and the crew of the good ship Caribas, that
less than fifty miles distant was keeping its watch over my vessel,
unconscious of impending danger. I condemned myself a thousand
times from every imaginable point of view for my foolhardiness
in accompanying a stranger on such a hazardous and unnecessary
expedition. I conjured up in my mind a score of ways by which I could
communicate with the first mate of my ship and apprise him of the
mysterious and unexpected dangers that beset him. But all such plans
had to be rejected.
With an aching heart, I finally fell into an uneasy slumber, filled
with frightful dreams, in which death appeared in every imaginable
and terrible form.