THE AGONY OF SUSPENSE.
I may now quote the Kantoon’s own words:
“Every moment’s delay added to the anxiety of the commander of the
attacking party, because a sneeze from any one of the two hundred
men would have exposed our presence,” continued the Kantoon of the
Happy Shark, quite interested in his own narrative. As he grew more
animated and excited, however, his language became so polyglot
that, had I not possessed a wide range of linguistic attainments,
I certainly could not have followed him. For ordinary narrative, I
found he preferred Portuguese and Spanish; when he attempted bits
of pathos, he generally employed a horrible admixture of French and
Italian; his descriptions were chiefly in broken English, larded
with German adjectives and Russian verbs. A free translation of his
narrative ran thus:
“Aboard the Caribas was one man who nearly defeated our expedition.
He was the boatswain, a sturdy, rugged fellow, who you doubtless
remember; his strength and courage will remain a tradition as long as
the present generation of Sargassons lasts.”
“Yes, indeed; I remember the poor fellow,” I added, solemnly.
“As we ascertained, after his capture, the boatswain had been a
deep water sailor on the Atlantic nearly all his life, had many
times approached our continent and had heard from sailors many tales
regarding its mysteries. He had himself seen the Light in the Sky
that hovered above the floating sod; but, like every superstitious
sailor, he hardly credited in his own mind the stories he repeated
and affected to believe. He had been on deck at the time the Sacred
Light was flashed. He had seen it, had studied it carefully with
a night glass, and had assured himself that the cone of light
proceeded from some point near the surface of the water to the
cloud bank in the sky! He knew, therefore, what the naked eye did
not reveal, namely--that the blood-red spot in the sky was the
result of a reflection of something on the water. He had been very
anxious in his mind about the matter, and had made several efforts
to obtain an interview with the first officer of the Caribas, who,
in your absence, was in command of the ship. That gentleman was so
swollen in importance by the temporary authority invested in him by
your absence, however, that he would hold no intercourse with the
boatswain. Had he done so, I have no doubt that the fires would have
been raked and your steamer would have dropped away from the hulk,
thus rendering her capture impossible.”
“He has paid dearly for his arrogance,” I interposed.
“The boatswain evidently suffered under a premonition of impending
danger, though he had no idea it would come in human form,” continued
the Kantoon. “He was superstitious, and expected the trouble in some
unholy shape. For that reason he purposely omitted sounding ‘eight
bells.’ Instead, he personally descended to the fo’castle and roused
the men of the next watch. We could hear the sailors coming on deck,
muttering and cursing and declaring that ‘eight bells’ had not
struck, and that therefore their time to get up had not arrived. We
knew this as well as the men, and did not understand the reason any
better than they. The boatswain’s watch expired at 4 o’clock, but he
was disinclined to go below, and, as we afterward knew to our cost,
he remained on deck awake.
“With the information that we had received from Gray regarding your
ship’s company, we expected to find about ten men on watch, including
firemen, engineer, lookout, helmsman, and the officer on the bridge.
The steward, cooks and waiters we thought to find asleep in their
bunks, so that they might be tied up and thrown overboard without
special trouble; but the forebodings of this officious boatswain well
nigh defeated our plans.
“Practically, he had contrived to awake every member of the ship’s
company, so that when the assault was finally made on the order of
our Commander, the shrill whistle of the boatswain rang out on the
night air, calling the entire crew to quarters, and informing them
that a boarding party was attacking. The language of the boatswain’s
whistle, though unknown to me, was familiar to every member of your
crew, and right gallantly did they respond to it. Almost as quickly
as I can recount the fact to you, did they swarm out of the fo’castle
to the cabin, armed with cutlasses, marlin spikes and clubs.
“Our directions had been explicitly given, and, in brief, were: As
soon as our men crossed the bulwarks twenty of them were to assemble
under the bridge, where all prisoners were to be brought. The right
wing of the boarding party was to assault the cabins of the acting
captain, mate and chief engineer. The left wing of the boarding party
was to storm the fo’castle, and, with a plentiful use of the Tabasco
powder, to capture the men--knock them on the heads, if necessary to
reduce them to subjection.
“Before this pretty scheme could be carried out, the boatswain had
organized a defensive party of about a dozen men--some of them only
half dressed as they came promptly from their bunks--had armed
them, and had made an attack upon about fifty of us. We noticed one
peculiarity about the members in this party. Each man had a moistened
cloth about his mouth and nostrils, showing that the boatswain had
heard of our methods of warfare. They entered the fray with their
eyes almost closed, and it was without effect that we threw handfuls
of the corrosive and stupefying dust in their faces. They slashed
right and left in a way that endangered the success of our attack.
Some of the other sailors, however, believing us to be supernatural
figures, crouched whining and sobbing behind the water casks and the
capstan. It was not until the mates, engineer, steward, cooks and
waiters had been subdued and tied up that our entire force turned
upon the heroic boatswain and his party.
“Our Commander rallied the men at the ship’s side and addressed to
them a few words. Even while he spoke your brave boatswain was at
work with an axe chopping the cables that held your ship to the hulk.
In a few moments more the Caribas would have been free! But our
Commander promptly gave the order to advance, and the boatswain and
his few companions were captured. The gallant fellow fought to the
last, and was only overpowered by superiority of numbers.
“The discipline exercised by our Commander was admirable. Except a
bottle of rum, which was standing in the captain’s cabin, and which
was appropriated at once by several of the men, I did not see a
single article filched by any of our party. The commanding Kantoon in
charge of the expedition at once posted a man at each companionway,
and within ten minutes the entire ship was properly officered under
his direction.
“Of course, the first problem was what should be done with the
captives. Among our people only one harsh code obtains--‘Dead men
never talk;’ and we have almost without exception given to each
captive the mercy of extinction. After all, this is wisest. A man in
captivity always chafes under restraint. Happiness is impossible.
What pleasure can there be in a life of misery? However sweet
existence may be, death that brings peace and repose is preferable.
Such is the view that we Sargassons take of the blessing of
extinction. We regard it as an act of kindness to prevent misery.
“Our commander, therefore, decided that the entire ship’s company
must die. Your little cabin boy begged very hard for his life, and it
did seem a very cruel act to cut him off in his youth; but conquerors
cannot be swayed by mere impulses of the heart, and the sweet-faced
little chap followed your second mate over the side of the ship. We
did not put him in a sack, but tied his ankles together, and, having
attached a heavy weight to his waist, we dropped him feet foremost
into the sea. I carry his sad, tearful face in my mind yet. Of course
we made quick work of the crew. As a rule, we simply knocked each man
on the head with a marlin spike, to render him insensible, and then
tossed him overboard.
“But when we came to the boatswain, who had made such a valiant
defense, I personally went to the Commander and interceded for
his life. He was on the point of granting my request, when it was
suggested to him by one of the other Kantoons that the man would
prove a very disagreeable white elephant on our hands; that we would
have to feed him and watch him for several years. That settled the
fate of the boatswain. I felt very sorry, because a man of tried
bravery is always a valuable acquisition to a community; and, though
this sturdy fellow had killed more than a dozen of our party, we all
felt the greatest admiration and respect for him.
“I stepped to his side (for he had been allowed to stand up, lashed
to one of the davits that carried a lifeboat) and conversed with him
for several minutes. He seemed utterly indifferent to his fate, said
not a word regarding his impending death, but he asked, and even
begged, that the life of the poor little cabin boy be spared. He did
not know, of course, that the poor child had already met his fate.
He expressed considerable curiosity about our people; told me about
having seen the Sacred Light; spoke of the premonition of impending
danger that he had experienced; repeated some of the tales that had
been told him by Portuguese sailors regarding the Sargasso Sea, and
expressed regret that he had not given these stories the serious
consideration that his present misfortune clearly indicated he should
have done. We were cut short in the midst of our conversation by the
approach of the Commander, who said, in his brusque way:
“‘Now, my man, how do you want to die?’
“‘It doesn’t make much difference to me,’ the boatswain answered. ‘At
least, it will not an hour hence.’
“‘True,’ replied the commanding Kantoon; ‘but there are all sorts of
deaths. I’d recommend drowning. I may be prejudiced in its favor, but
it’s about the easiest form in which to take your medicine. Out of
consideration for your courage, I’ll have you drowned on deck, here,
if I can find a barrel filled with water. But you must make your mind
up in a few minutes. We can’t fool with you all night.’
“‘Very well,’ replied the boatswain, indifferently. ‘I suppose I had
better take your advice. Suit your own convenience,’ and he bowed,
just as if receiving a command.
“The order was at once given, and the head was knocked out of an
empty water cask. It was placed upright on the deck, and in three
minutes it was filled with water--a line of bucket passers having
been formed. There were some mutterings, many Sargassons protesting
against all this trouble about one captive; but nobody dared openly
to oppose the whim of the Commander.
“I went over and shook hands with the boatswain, as well as was
possible under the circumstances, his wrists being tightly bound
together. He gave my hand a firm, hearty pressure, and I then turned
my back in order to avoid witnessing his last agonies.
“He was seized by six men, pitched head foremost into the water
butt, and held there until life was extinct. His struggles were not
violent, and he died with the complacency that could be expected
of a man who was naturally a philosopher, and who regarded the end
merely in the light of an incident. The poor fellow’s body was then
committed to the sea with considerable consideration. Thus ended a
duty that to most people would be thought very disagreeable. Among
the Sargassons, however, we feel no compunction at taking life. We
regard existence as something unwillingly thrust upon us--the loss of
which is of very little moment.
“While this scene had been enacting upon deck, a part of our men had
been ordered to the furnaces, fires had been replenished with coal,
and by daylight we had steam enough to get under way. If you will
cast your eyes in that direction,” continued the Kantoon, pointing
off to the eastward, “you will see that your ship is safely moored in
a berth, where she will remain until our good mother, the Sea, takes
her in final and loving embrace. Perhaps you would care to use these
glasses, with which no doubt, you are familiar,” saying which the
scoundrel had the audacity to hand me my own binoculars, taken from
my own cabin.
Right here, however, I want to say that petty theft was unknown
among the Sargassons. The very reason that my sea glasses were in
the possession of the Kantoon of my ship was that they had been
committed to his care in trust for me. I found the same thing to be
true regarding my articles of jewelry, wearing apparel and even books
in the library that contained my name. I may anticipate far enough to
state that in due time I received all these things, none of them the
worse for wear or misuse.
I took the glasses from the Kantoon’s hand, and soon located the
Caribas among the vast assemblage of vessels that swung with the
ocean swell. She lay at least six miles away, but I was aided in my
search by a fine film of smoke that still ascended from her funnels.
The fires were dying out under her boilers, and in another day she
would be as incapable of movement as the oldest water-logged craft in
the community.
The effect upon me was very saddening, and, laying the glasses down
upon the deck, I bowed my head and went back to my cabin, to brood
over my misfortune and the disgrace that had come upon me.
The awful story that I had heard from the Kantoon greatly depressed
me. Remembering the fairly courteous treatment that I had received
at the hands of the Sargassons, I had hoped that a few of the ship’s
company would have been spared; I had rather anticipated that the
engineers and the baby-faced child in the cabin would be suffered to
live; but now all such hopes were dashed.
I was utterly alone among a savage and unnatural people, who set
no store on life themselves, and could not be expected to respect
mine. It was not improbable that at any hour I might receive
the notification that I, too, was to be accorded the “mercy of
extinction.”
In this frame of mind I threw myself upon my cot and moaned myself
into unconsciousness.