MAKING NEW BOATS.
Good fortune does not always bring happiness.
This turn in my affairs, however, attractive from a Sargasson
viewpoint, caused me heartache. The death of the good Kantoon had
changed the whole current of my life. My marriage with Fidette, that
I had counted upon to seal the promise of her father to have the
command of my old ship at her moorings, not far distant, was the tie
that now bound me absolutely to the Happy Shark. Without the potent
influence of the dead commander, I could hardly hope, newcomer as I
was, to be selected for the important trust I coveted.
The courage that I had shown during the attack of the boarding
party had reconciled all the opposing factions to my leadership and
command. If, indeed, I had lacked anything in spirit or ferocity,
Fidette’s unexampled success with the mock oranges confirmed me in my
position.
I would be associated with the other Commanders in the Seaweed Sea;
would assemble and kneel with them around the Sacred Fire at the
annual Guna-Gamus.
Participation in this solemn ceremonial was proof of social
recognition beyond all certificates of character.
And yet, I was not happy.
Deep down in my heart, I had harbored treachery to the Sargassons.
One of my constant dreams had been to regain possession of the
Caribas, that I might repair her machinery, store her with dried
seaweed and other drift, with which to feed her boilers long enough
to get up steam and reclaim the lost ship for her owners.
My own release from the enforced detention did not excite my
imagination nearly so much as the prospect of returning to the owners
at Plymouth the property that they had intrusted to my care.
Torn by conflicting emotions of love and duty, I was the most
miserable of men. I could not forget Fidette. Equally hard was it for
me to overlook the countless kind acts that I had received from the
Sargasson people. They had robbed me of my command; had dishonored
me in my own eyes; but theirs was a novel piracy, so curious and
interesting that I forgave the injustice to me.
Besides, there was much to be said in behalf of the Sargassons. Other
nations, whose people are far more civilized, indulge in conquests,
make war without due provocation, capture ships, burn towns and
massacre innocent people. To the Sargassons, a constant accession
of new ships and new blood is necessary. They are not a prolific
people. From their point of view, any ship that strays or adventures
within the limits of their domain is lawful prize. They make war
upon no other part of the world! Their possessions are far out of
the ordinary path of trade, and misfortune and foolishness are the
only two excuses for an invasion of Sargasso. It is true, they are
merciless and cruel. In their battles they neither give nor accept
quarter; but such is the Draconian law they practice against each
other.
It is perfectly natural that they should discountenance the escape of
any adventurer who may have become possessed of the secret of their
existence.
Every ship in Sargasso is a treasure house, loaded with the salvage
of derelicts from every quarter of the habitable globe. No government
to-day in existence, recognizes the rights of the Sargassons. The
limits of their strangely organized republic are undefined. Like
the Numancians of old, they perish by self-destruction rather than
surrender to external foes. Sleeping or waking, each member of a
ship’s company exists only at the mercy of the Kantoon who commands
the craft.
The bottom of every ship is a honeycomb of holes, the plugs in which
can be drawn by means of chains leading to the Commander’s cabin.
Therefore, I say, the fact that I have returned to my native land
and am able to recount my curious experiences is solely due to the
fact that the mercy and kindness of the Sargassons in my case were
misplaced. For their own protection they should have made way with
me. The recent account of the Bureau of Navigation at Washington,
directing that several of the smaller armed cruisers be sent to
the Sargasso Sea for the purpose of blowing up and sinking all the
vessels found therein, is the result of an indiscreet communication
made by me shortly after my return a few weeks ago.
I need not say that this is to me a matter of sincere regret, that
our Government, having many humane acts to its credit, should thus
ruthlessly intrude upon a people that has never personally harmed it,
and wage a war of extermination not equaled even by the savage and
uncivilized Sargassons.
Can it be that the United States is about to follow the example of
Japan at Port Arthur!
In my behalf, it should be remembered that I was still in the
honeymoon of love.
Life had never seemed so precious to me; and the thought that the
Happy Shark could not be expected to keep afloat for many years
filled me with mental agony. Here must we stay, exactly like rats on
a sinking ship.
The thought of death grew more repugnant to me every day. I didn’t
want to lose Fidette.
The crew were set to work making new boats. This was imperative for
several reasons. First of all, we were very short of food on the
Happy Shark. The sides of the vessel had been scraped clean of all
barnacles--the small shellfish being very attractive to the Sargasson
palate.
The quaking sod for miles around was covered with a luxuriant growth
of yellow berries, delicious to the taste. Crayfish existed in great
abundance. They climbed out of the water on the branches of floating
trees, and could be gathered in large quantities. The fruit and the
crayfish were eaten raw.
It was necessary, also, that we should have new boats, because the
ceremony of the Guna-Gamus would soon occur, and my first appearance
at that function must not be prevented.
The selection of the material from which the boats were made was a
matter of considerable difficulty as well as art.
From the under surface of the floating sod long, ropelike roots
extended downward to great depths. These roots were of a brownish hue
and varied in thickness. They were very pliable while fresh, and were
readily worked up into matting.
There was only one way in which this material could be procured. The
thickness of the sod varied greatly, according to the period of its
formation. It was necessary, therefore, to find a thin spot in the
sod, through which a hole could be cut. Divers, armed with short,
sharp knives, were sent down to bring these long, eel-like roots
to the surface. This work was attended with much danger, because
it not infrequently happened that the diver became confused while
working under the sod, and, losing his bearings, groped his way in a
direction opposite the watery shoot through which he had descended.
Rescue was impossible.
Now and then a shark devoured a diver.
When enough of these roots had been secured by this hazardous means,
they were lashed together and kept in the water until the moment of
their use.
A stout and straight limb was cut from one of the floating trees for
a keel. The finding of this stick was not easy.
I should have mentioned that as soon as possible after the final
defeat of the boarding party, who had attempted to capture and
assassinate us, swimmers were sent out, and succeeded in securing and
dragging back to the ship several of our destroyed canoes.
The keel, generally nine feet in length, was placed upon a row of
blocks, several inches above the deck. Five pieces of the longest
and toughest roots were selected by the expert boatmaker, and these
were placed around and parallel to the keel stick. They were then
carefully bound together by the smallest and the toughest withes,
made of roots split in half. This part of the work required much
skill and neatness. The excellence of the completed boat depended
upon the firmness with which these long, radiating roots were bound
to the keel.
The long ends of two of the roots projecting from the keel were
brought together about two feet above the blocks, and there securely
fastened. They were then gently bent at right angles and extended in
a curved line from stem to stern, and vice versa. This formed the
gunwales of the boat. The other withes were then turned backward,
and attached at regular intervals to the gunwale line. This formed
a rough network, over which the smaller roots were laced with
consummate art, until every crevice was covered.
Meanwhile, the gum made from fish scales was in preparation, and
this was carefully smeared over the entire network within and
without, rendering the boat absolutely water tight. The secret of the
composition of this glue was one of the treasured possessions of the
Sargassons.
When completed, the boats weighed usually about thirty pounds. It
was necessary that they be kept wet all the time, however, as they
became worthless when once thoroughly dried.
A direct means existed for communicating with the neighboring
ships. In my excursions I had noticed bundles of the cordlike roots
radiating from various ships across the floating sod--submerged at
points, but generally out of the water. They were similar to the
roots used by the Sargassons in the construction of their boats.
These roots extended downward to great lengths, limited only by their
tensile strength. I have seen many specimens one thousand feet long.
They drew their entire sustenance from the water, and a bit of root
thrown overboard would continue to live, and finally attach itself to
the sod.
The Sargassons formed long cables of these roots, by grafting them
together at the ends and covering the splices with fish scale gum.
The wounds soon healed and the junction became perfect. In this way
the Sargassons pieced the roots together until they were many miles
in length. The cables thus formed were rarely more than an inch in
diameter, but they possessed the remarkable property of transmitting
sound. This system of intercommunication had been introduced by a
Ceylonese, who, proud of the traditions of his imperial island, had
recalled to mind the grapevine telegraph that once joined together
the entire coast of his native land. Messages were transmitted by
blows upon a solid block of wood attached to the end of the root
cable. I never mastered the code, but our signal officer, an old
Frenchman, was quite expert.
One of the most interesting episodes of history was the attempt of
the Dutch to take possession of Ceylon. They already possessed Java
and other islands of less size in Oceania, and in their stately ships
they made a serious attempt to capture the valuable island south
of Hindustan. But the Ceylonese were proud of their independence.
Religious fanaticism also had much to do with their sturdy courage.
Were they not the custodians of the sacred tooth of Buddha? The
Western infidels, as they very naturally denominated the Hollanders,
would not respect this trophy. Therefore, they of Ceylon must answer
for it to Buddha with their lives.
Again and again the Dutch attempted to land troops, but they were
always confronted with native soldiery, who beat them off, destroyed
their boats, and massacred all the officers and men who escaped the
savage surf that beat upon the Ceylon shores. In vain the would-be
invaders resorted to artifice. They sailed away at night, as if
abandoning the attack, only to approach the island at another point,
but always to find the courageous and unconquerable natives drawn up
in martial array to receive them. The attempt to capture the island
was abandoned. It was claimed, quite in the Eastern fashion, that
intercommunication was effected after the manner of the Theosophists,
by the projection of thought or by actual traveling of the astral
body. This explanation satisfied the Hollanders. Subsequent
exploration, after the island became a part of British India, made it
plain that through the tree tops of Ceylon’s trackless forests were
carried grapevine cables, possessing the capacity of transmitting
sound. By a system of telegraphy, known only to themselves, they
could reproduce at a far distant end of such a vegetable cable the
sounds made by sharp blows of a hammer. In this way they were able
to transmit information and to indicate accurately the point at
which, from the highest headland, the enemies’ ship could be seen
approaching.
Nothing could have better served the purpose of the Sargassons for
the transmission of information than these long, woody-hearted roots.
The absence of pith greatly increased the power of conducting sound.
Although the vessel of the Chief Kantoon was a day’s journey distant,
it was possible to send a communication thither and receive an answer
in about two hours.
The problem of reprovisioning the Happy Shark became one of serious
moment. Dissatisfaction was spreading among the men, and my supremacy
was seriously threatened.
During short journeys across a part of the floating sod, I had
noticed that the tree branches submerged in the water were covered
with small shellfish, like young oysters. I had a large quantity of
these bivalves collected, and deliberately flew in the face of the
Sargasson law that prohibited fire on the ships by having a chowder
prepared. There was a large boiler on the forward part of the main
deck of the Happy Shark, just over the fo’castle, and at night I
set a fire going under it. I dared not cook in the daytime, because
the column of ascending smoke would have indicated me as a violator
of the laws. The boatswain produced the flame in the most primitive
fashion by sharpening a stick at both ends and twirling it by means
of a silversmith’s bow and cord until it ignited.
The odor of food was soon perceptible about the ship. All the men
were awakened and served with a dish of the stew. I thickened it with
pieces of sun-dried farina, and flavored it with some of the herbs
that I had discovered growing wild upon the green meadows.
In a few days this new addition to the Sargasson cuisine made me the
most popular commander in all the community.
But one doesn’t have to go to the Seaweed Sea to learn that if you
touch a man’s stomach you win his heart.