FIDETTE BECOMES MINE.
Exactly six of the boarding party escaped. Trembling with fear
inspired by the sudden and terrible death that had overtaken their
companions on the deck of the Happy Shark, they sprang into the water
and hid themselves under their floating spar.
“Out with the boats and follow them!” cried Fidette, her voice no
longer gentle and sweet.
Unfortunately, all our boats had been destroyed, and no possible
means of pursuit remained. I was just as glad, because our experience
in the boats earlier in the day had not been calculated to inspire
confidence in such an attack. What was left of the attacking party
was sure to escape. In numbers they were few, but in resources and
artifices they were strong. They deserved no mercy. They had made a
wanton and heartless attack upon us, and had robbed us of our good
commander. They had made Fidette an orphan.
When pursuit was seen to be impossible, I watched the infernal spar
slowly moving out into the centre of the Grand Canal. Then I turned
my attention to the dead and dying that strewed our decks. Many of
the killed were frightfully mangled. The explosion of the shell
having torn up the deck, the flying splinters killed as many men as
did the concussion.
I gave immediate orders to have all the bodies of the invaders thrown
over the side of the ship. This was done without any feeling of
remorse.
We gathered our own dead, and I gave orders to have them prepared for
burial.
Poor Fidette was inconsolable. I found her bending over the body of
her father, wailing piteously!
Examining the old man’s body, I found that he had died from a knife
thrust in the heart. The scoundrel who had dealt the blow was a
swarthy Lascar, and he had, fortunately for himself, died from the
wound inflicted by the Kantoon. Had he still been alive, I am sure I
could not have restrained our men from inflicting upon him the most
horrible tortures. Remember, they would have felt little resentment
toward him for the murder of the good Kantoon; what incensed them
specially was the mutilation prior to the final extinction of the old
man’s life.
Reverently lifting the Kantoon’s body in my arms, I carried it to his
cabin and placed it in his bunk; then, with a deep feeling of sorrow
in my heart, I withdrew, leaving poor Fidette alone with her dead
father.
Obviously, the first thing to be done was to call a meeting of the
entire ship’s company.
This I did at once, and the men soon assembled in front of the
mainmast. Speaking in the same polyglottic tongue that the good
Kantoon had employed, I addressed the men in as pathetic a manner as
I could, calling attention to the bravery of our dead commander, and
then commending by name all the valorous sailors who lay dead.
I then approached the important subject of the succession to the
Kantoonship. I desired to be the master of the Happy Shark, but I
was well aware that the first and second mates had prior claims, and
would not quietly relinquish them.
Under the Sargasson code, each Community is a law unto itself. If the
crew wished to have me rule over them no influence could prevent me
from attaining that dignity. Had I already been Fidette’s husband, of
course I would have become the commander without question.
Rebellion was rampant throughout the Sargasso Sea, and although there
had not been any signs of mutiny aboard my own vessel, I felt that if
I insisted upon becoming captain of the ship it would be fomented.
I decided to temporize for a few days, until I could be married to
Fidette under the civil form, after which my claim would be well nigh
unimpeachable.
I therefore concluded my address to the men by saying that pending
any final decision regarding the Kantoonship, we would unite in a
common sorrow, and attend the burial of our late commander.
The rebellious condition of the Sargassons made it dangerous for
Fidette and me to undertake a journey to the Priest of the Sacred
Fire. We might not have been molested, but the chances were that a
marauding party or some friends of the men defeated upon our decks
would give chase and destroy us. Besides, the code of this people
provided for civil marriages in the presence of witnesses during
stress of heavy weather--not that the waves ever ran very high on the
large canals of Sargasso, because the sea was held in bondage by the
thick green blanket of weeds and orchids that thrived luxuriously
upon its heaving surface.
A superstitious people, the Sargassons feared intensely the electric
storms that broke over them. Like the sailors of Columbus, they
had a dread of falling stars. A yellow condition of the atmosphere
completely prostrated them. Mere rainstorms were to them a delight.
It was the commonest incident to see the entire ship’s company
mustered to enjoy a heavy rain! I had seen the Kantoon awaken his
sturdiest men out of their first sleep at the end of a watch, in
order that they might be brought on deck again and stand in a shower.
Not a moment was to be lost if I were to retain command of the ship.
At the side of the body of her dead father, Fidette and I calmly
and solemnly discussed the situation. She agreed with me entirely
that our marriage must occur at once. In a girlish way, she exacted
of me only one promise, and that was that I would never refer to
the trombone man after our marriage. As her poor dead father had
“arranged” the Portuguese’s taking off, I saw no reason why I should
ever dwell upon the man’s existence. I promised.
We agreed, though not without serious controversy, that it was
wisest to have the ceremony take place while her father’s body still
remained on the ship. It was to us a palladium of safety, for in
its visible presence no vandal hand would dare to intrude and take
possession of the Kantoon’s cabin.
The civil ceremony of marriage among the Sargassons is simplicity
itself. The bride and the groom approach the mainmast from opposite
ends of the vessel, she always leaving her cabin in the stern of the
boat, and he going forward, in order that, returning, he may approach
from the bow. In the presence of the entire ship’s company drawn up
along the bulwarks, the contracting parties join both hands around
the mainmast. They then move three times completely around the mast
in order that every member of the ship’s company shall witness the
fact that they have voluntarily taken each other as husband and
wife. They then unclasp their hands and standing facing each other
aft the mast. After that, one of the crew, generally the oldest man,
no matter what his station, presents the bride with a sprig of bay
or other green bough. The groom then makes his bride a present of a
necklace of shark’s teeth and a few pink-fish scales, with pretty
sentiments indelibly scratched upon them.
If the groom have the promise of the succession to the command of a
vessel in Sargasso, it is usually good form to announce it on such an
occasion. I had no such promise in writing, nor had Fidette, the fact
being that I had hoped to be transferred to my old ship and resume
command of her.
In the absence of the officiating Kantoon, it is the custom for the
groom to ask the bride, in the presence of all the witnesses, if she
willingly and freely accepts him to be her husband, and in the event
of a favorable response, the bride then puts a similar question to
her intended mate, which, if properly replied to, confirms the union,
and all the sailors unite in a benediction in the words:
“It is well; amen.”
With much solemnity the best friend of the groom approaches, carrying
a bucket of water, ascends to a small platform that has been put up
for the occasion, and while the newly wedded pair bow their heads
in a respectful attitude, they receive The Baptism. Rain water is
generally used upon occasions of this kind.
So we were married.
This being the conclusion of the ceremony, the bride always kisses
her husband first, and he, throwing himself upon his face upon the
deck, returns the salute by planting a kiss upon each of her pretty
pink feet, in token of abject reverence.
Under ordinary circumstances, a period of feasting and dancing would
have followed. But the dead body of the good Kantoon still lay
unburied.
The Sargassons have a very pretty theory about death.
They believe that those to whom the messenger comes when the sun is
shining brightly are transported straight away to the sweet-water
heaven, where they may wade and disport themselves to all eternity.
To those, on the other hand, who receive the call of death in
the hours of darkness or in foggy weather, there must needs be a
preparatory period before they can enjoy the future life. I never met
a Sargasson who was not a believer in fore-ordination. What is to
be they believe will be. While I witnessed many deathbed scenes, I
never heard a reproach or a regret uttered that the end did not come
when most desirable. Those who passed away in the night accepted the
verdict as a punishment for some act, known or unknown, committed by
them during their lives.
The funeral of the Kantoon took place on the following day. The dear
old man was sewed up in the only bit of tarpaulin left on board, and,
weighted with our last anchor, was brought to the gangway. There we
all took our final leave, after the Sargasson form, each member of
the ship’s company approaching solemnly, with bared head, and placing
his right hand over the heart of the dead. No sound of lamentation
or grief was expressed or permitted, but the body, resting on a long
board, was gently pushed, feet foremost, into the sea.
Half an hour later, while I was busied with my duties in getting
the ship in trim, little Fidette had taken her place far out on
the bowsprit, and sat dangling her feet in the water, nursing her
prettiest and most petted pink and green octopus.