I BECOME A SARGASSON.
Soon after the events narrated in the previous chapter I was busy at
noonday taking an observation as to our exact latitude and longitude,
when Fidette came running to me with the astonishing announcement
that a large galley was coming down the Grand Canal, making straight
for the Happy Shark. I laid down my quadrant and called all the
men to quarters. I had no means of knowing whether the call was a
friendly or unfriendly one. Our boats were not entirely completed,
and, had they been, we could not have offered any real resistance to
this large war canoe with its thirty men.
The first mate was sent forward to speak to the craft as soon as she
came within hailing distance, and he returned with the information
that the men in command of the boat bore a communication from the
High Priest of the Sacred Fire. We were summoned, Fidette and I, to
the august presence, in order that the religious marriage ceremonies
might be performed.
Here was a perilous situation for me.
Nearly three days would be required for the complete journey,
during which I had no guarantee that my men would not overthrow my
supremacy. I likewise doubted the good faith of the High Priest, and
of the barbarians he had sent to conduct us to him. When, however,
the formidable document was passed over the ship’s side and Fidette
had carefully scrutinized the writing upon the tarpon scales, she
decided that we dare not disregard the command.
The thought promptly suggested itself to me that the crew of the
Unk-ta-hee, as the Priest’s barge was called, should be invited on
board and fed. I was about to give an order to that effect, when,
fortunately, I consulted the first mate, and learned that such a
custom is entirely unheard of in Sargasso--the distrust being so
general that no Kantoon would seriously contemplate inviting more
than two or three strange men on board his ship at one time. I then
saw that the visiting boat had come fully provisioned, for the men
began to eat their midday meal while they rested.
Naturally, Fidette desired to present herself in as attractive
a manner as possible before the Archimandrite of the floating
monastery. This strange and mysterious place was an object of
dread to most of the inhabitants of the archipelagic community. It
was never visited by any citizen of Sargasso, except on just such
occasions as this, and the strictest secrecy was always enjoined upon
those who had been there.
In less than an hour after the formal command of the High Priest had
been delivered to us, I had placed my ship in charge of the first
mate, and, taking with me only a few articles of wearing apparel
and my chronometer and quadrant (which I had never allowed to go
out of my possession for an instant since their return to me), I
awaited Fidette outside her cabin, prepared to make the voyage on the
Unk-ta-hee.
This boat was about sixty feet long, fashioned from a solid tree
trunk, and resembled an African war canoe.
The dear little woman lingered over her toilet. She knew the
hardships of the journey, and brought with her some sea-grass
blankets. Finally she appeared, and, tripping across the deck of the
Happy Shark toward me, she waved an adieu to all her old shipmates.
The spectacle affected me very deeply. These grizzly men, most of
whom had known Fidette from her earliest infancy, were affected to
boisterous laughter--that being the Sargasson method of expressing
sorrow.
Tears were unknown among the People of the Salted Seas.
As we crossed the side of the ship to enter the Unk-ta-hee, we
observed that a small but neat cabin had been fitted up astern for my
Fidette. It was a rude affair, formed of reed matting, and occupied
a space in the barge just aft the chief paddler. It was barely long
enough for the little creature to rest at full length, but was
without a roof to protect the inmate from the rain or dew. As I have
said before, Sargassons never desired to be sheltered from the rain;
had they dwelt in houses, like other people, their structures would
have been roofless. The heat of the sun was very oppressive to them.
Had the crew of the Happy Shark lived ashore they probably would have
burrowed in the ground and passed the heat of the day in cellars.
No sooner had Fidette and I stepped into the great barge than the
command was given to push off, and after a few moments the paddlers
gradually increased the speed of the heavy wooden canoe.
We stood up in the open part of the barge, waving a farewell to our
comrades on the Happy Shark. We did not know that we were taking
final leave of the vessel. As long as possible we kept the dear old
craft in sight. To Fidette the tenderest memories centred about the
only home she had ever known.
We were bound upon a journey, the exact purport of which we did not
understand, and we were troubled in our minds as to its outcome.
On the barge, which sat low in the water, it was not possible to
keep the Happy Shark in sight for more than an hour. At the end of
that time new scenes and new incidents attracted our attention, and
the long afternoon passed agreeably. We were rowed within close
proximity to more than two hundred derelicts, all inhabited, all
having their individual social organizations, and all amenable to the
supreme direction of the Chief Kantoon, who existed on some far-away
and stately ship, unseen and unknown by sight to almost everybody in
the entire nation, but always revered, respected and obeyed.
Just at dark we passed very near a ship in the last stages of dry
rot. The antique craft had become so excessively buoyant that it
stood high out of water, and was liable to capsize at any moment. The
crew of that vessel might have allowed some water to enter the hold
to have submerged their craft to the load line, but they dared not
remove the plugs from the hull, for when these were once extracted by
the Kantoon, with the ceremonial usual on such occasions, Sargasson
formality forbade a stopping of the inflow of water.
To me the scene was very pathetic, and I imagined that I could see
in the resigned and beatific countenances of the various members of
the crew a foreknowledge of their impending doom. I nowhere saw any
exhibitions of fear, desire to escape, or, what was equally sad to
me, of hope.
As we progressed, the ships were arranged more closely together--less
intervening sod separating them.
The twilight was very brief, but just before the sun took its last
drop into the water and night came, we passed a vessel on which was
a band of musicians, who produced the most extraordinary noises that
had ever greeted my ears. The instruments were chiefly of wood,
constructed after the manner of dulcimers, and the musical sounds
were produced by beating upon strips of wood of various sizes, which
hung from the standing rigging. The effect was weird, and, although
a defective note frequently marred the harmony, it was a pleasing
diversion, not only for the Sargassons, but for me. Our thirty
paddlers were allowed to rest and listen to the Sargasson national
hymn.
The commander of the barge took advantage of the opportunity, and
served supper to all hands.
One of the darkest nights I ever experienced in my whole career at
sea followed. The moon was at the full, but a mass of clouds, black
as ink, obscured her and the evening star.
We soon composed ourselves to sleep. The sturdy men at the paddles
evidently slept while they worked. No galley slaves toiled more
unceasingly than did this volunteer crew of Sargassons, intent only
on my formal admission to all the sacred rights of this strange
people.
A perfect knowledge of the route over which we traveled was shown
by the commander. He steered the craft with a large oar, which he
shifted from one side to the other, as was necessary, on occasions
exerting great strength where a sharp turn was to be made. Not a
light was in sight.
Even my practiced eyes could not distinguish the sod line that formed
the banks of the canal, and I fully appreciated the difficulty of the
pilot’s work.
As dawn came, we were awakened by the singing of birds. We rose and
looked about us. The men were still laboring at the paddles with
swaying bodies, all moving in unison, their heads resting on their
arms, and their faces, with tightly closed eyes, turned from the
glare of the rising sun. The air was very balmy, and the sky was as
blue as it is in Andalusia in early Spring.
Fidette and I stood up and gazed upon the scene. Larks and mocking
birds could be heard on all sides, singing cheerily. Only a short
distance ahead we beheld the open water of the Inland Sea, at the
further side of which we had been informed was moored the floating
palace of the Chief Kantoon. I had no trouble in getting my bearings.
The rising sun clearly indicated the east, and on consulting the
small compass that I always carried, I found that the needle had
suddenly swung four points from due north, and now pointed directly
to the northwest. Some new magic influence had evidently affected
the needle! I recalled the fact that Columbus, in his journeys,
had experienced a somewhat similar deviation in the mid-Atlantic,
although he only skirted the outer edge of the Sargasson continent.
The silence of this vast Inland Sea was depressing. Although we were
in the mid-Atlantic, the far-stretching blanket of sod that lay upon
the bosom of the deep, repressed its energy to such a degree that
the ordinary swell of the ocean was barely noticeable. Literally, it
was a tideless sea. I had expected that the Sargassons would paddle
boldly out into the centre of this large lake, but the commander
carefully kept near the sod bank that outlined it.
It was high noon when we approached the huge ark where dwelt the
Chief Kantoon. We were expected, and the gangway of the ship was
neatly trimmed with sea-grass matting of brilliant hues.
We soon rowed alongside, and, with some trepidation, I took Fidette’s
hand and assisted her up the steps. We were received on deck by a
young priest in full vestments, while a choir of boys sang what was
evidently a hymn of welcome. Not a word of reception was spoken.
After bowing low, we were immediately taken to a cabin, in the
centre of which was a table laden with fruit, and upon which, to my
amazement, stood a flagon of orange-hued wine, evidently of native
manufacture. I had not had the opportunity to dampen my palate with
anything of the kind for so many months that, when an attendant
poured me out a cup of the pale yellow fluid, I accepted it and drank
without hesitation. Fidette did the same.
During this entertainment, I had an opportunity to look around the
cabin. It was the most curious wonder-shop I had ever entered. Its
walls were hung with shields and pieces of silverware. Hundreds of
quaint knives and cutlasses were assembled in clusters on the ceiling
and in the corners. Trophies from every ship that had joined the
community were to be seen. Priceless gems, in antique settings,
were arranged in rosettes upon the grass-cloth draperies. Beautiful
articles of beaten gold, evidently fashioned from nuggets, formed
by melting down that most useless commodity among the Sargassons,
the coin of commerce, rested upon the table and upon the shelves in
various parts of the cabin.
Indeed, we ate our modest luncheon of berries and oranges from golden
dishes.