Before relating what next occurred, however, I must break off at this
point and make a slight bend in my yarn here, in order to mention
something that happened immediately before, and which, although I did
not come to hear of it until afterwards, had to do with bringing the
skipper so suddenly down upon us. Something, indeed, that tended to
infuriate him all the more, with Tom Bullover and Sam; for, from his
hearing, by their own confession, that they had planned and kept up the
delusion about the cook's ghost on purpose to deceive him, he was led to
believe that these two had got the better of him in another matter, even
more important still in his estimation.
And so, as I am only a youngster and a poor hand at telling a story,
though I find somehow or other I'm getting to the end of my yarn sooner
than I expected when I first set to work writing it, I think I had best
pat down everything that happened in its proper place and order, `in
regular shipshape Bristol fashion,' so that no hitch may occur by-and-by
that might `bring me up with a round turn,' when, perhaps, I could sail
on with a free sheet and a fair wind to what you landfolk and
longshoremen would call my `denouement'--a sad one, though, it be, as
you'll learn later on, all in good time, as I spin my yarn in my free
and easy way!
Well, to go back a bit now, you must know that ever since the thrashing
he got from our second-mate, Mr Flinders had kept himself very quiet;
not interfering in any way with the work of dismantling and unloading
the ship, but leaving the charge of all this in the hands of Jan
Steenbock and Tom Bullover--under, of course, the immediate supervision
of Captain Snaggs, who, was here, there, and everywhere, pretending to
do an awful lot, although really only occupying his time when he wasn't
drinking in bullying those of the men, who being tame-spirited, put up
with his bad language.
It must be said, though, for the skipper, that he generally left the old
hands alone, for they returned his choicest epithets in kind, always
giving him quite as good in the rude vernacular as he gave--discipline
being rather slack now the vessel was ashore, as in the merchant service
a wreck is supposed by the crew to dissolve all contracts and annul
whatever articles may have been signed. Such, at least, is my
experience of the sea.
During this interregnum of duty, the first-mate hardly ever left his
bunk on board the ship save to go into the cabin and partake of what
meals Morris Jones, the steward, provided him with just when that lazy
beggar of a Welshman liked.
Here he remained for over a week, nursing his damaged eyes and general
injuries and, no doubt, brooding over the revenge which he contemplated
taking at some future period on his late successful antagonist; for, his
jealousy had been keenly aroused by the marked partiality Captain Snaggs
had shown in favour of Jan Steenbock, although previously he had always
chummed with him--and, indeed, even now, in spite of all that had
passed, the captain still occasionally invited him to a friendly orgy in
the cabin, when both, as usual, of course, got royally drunk together as
of yore!
But, since the finding of the golden Madonna and the development of the
treasure-hunting craze amongst us, Mr Flinders had begun to come out
from his temporary obscurity, while not at first actually pushing
himself forward, or taking any prominent part in our daily routine.
This modest diffidence was due to the fact that the men used to make
audible remarks in reference to his `lovely black eyes,' but as soon as
the tint of these gradually merged from green to yellow and then buck to
their normal tone, the first-mate grew bumptious and endeavoured to
resume his old position of chief officer in the absence of the skipper,
when the latter frequently went off alone, as it was his habit now, in
solitary search of the buccaneers' buried hoard like all the rest of
us--notwithstanding that in public he utterly pooh-poohed its
problematical existence and urged on the crew in digging out the dock
under the ship, so as to get her afloat again, the only good, as he
said, that we could expect from the island being the hope of leaving it
behind us as quickly as possible.
He was an artful hand, was Captain Snaggs!
He thought that if he dissuaded the men from looking for the treasure he
might have the greater chance of coming across it himself.
Such being the case, the skipper would sometimes sneak off in the middle
of the day when work used to grow rather slack at our excavating task,
in consequence of the greater heat at that time; for, the sea-breeze
which we used to have with us from the early morning then gradually died
away, while the light airs that blew off the land during the afternoon
and night-time did not usually spring up until nearly sunset.
Then it was that Mr Flinders saw his opportunity; and, as regularly as
the skipper would disappear in the distance over the lava field fronting
the beach, saying, as he always did, that he was going up the cliff on
our port hand `to see if he could sight any passing vessel'--although
the sharpest eyes amongst our lookouts had never yet seen the captain's
lean and angular form on top of the said cliff--so, regularly, did the
first-mate stealthily descend the side ladder that led from the poop of
the ship down to the beach.
Once arrived here, his delight was to overlook the men as they lazily
dug out the concrete-like sand and shingle at the bottom of the trench,
filling baskets with the debris below which their fellows above hoisted
up none the more energetically; and the first-mate could not help
noticing that while Jan Steenbock purred them on now and then for a
brief spell, he let them, as a rule, take things easily; at this heated
period of the day, for Jan was wise enough to see that by not
overworking them then he got more labour out of his gang when the
temperature grew cooler, and the men could dig with greater "go."
For a while, Mr Flinders did not interfere with Jan's method of
procedure, seeing, as any sensible man would, that the second-mate's
plan answered its purpose of getting the most out of the hands without
making them grumble unduly at their unwonted task; but, soon his love of
carping at others asserted itself, and this feeling, coupled with the
desire to assert such petty authority as he still had, overcame his
sense of prudence, as well as all recollection of the sharp lesson he
had received from Jan not so very long before.
The difference between the skipper and Mr Flinders was, that, although
the former was essentially cruel and a bully of the first water, he was
yet physically brave and a cute, cautious man, who, when sober, knew how
far he might venture in his harsh treatment of those under him; while
the first-mate, on the contrary, was an utter coward at heart, and of as
malicious and spiteful a disposition as he was fond of tyrannising over
such as he thought he could ill-treat with impunity.
It never takes long for sailors to `reckon up' their officers; so, it
need hardly be said to which of the two the hands paid the most
attention when he gave an order. As to liking either, that was out of
the case; but where the men feared Captain Snaggs, the only feeling they
had for Mr Flinders was one of contempt--paying back all his snarlings
and bullyings in a way that the hands, well knew how to drive home to
one of his temperament, as sensitive as it was mean!
Consequently, when, after a bit, he commenced finding fault with this
one and that, the men would shove their tongues in their cheek and shrug
their shoulders. They did not pay the slightest regard to anything he
said; while the more bolder spirits, perhaps, of the stamp of Jim
Chowder, winked openly the one to the other, expressing an opinion in a
sufficiently loud enough tone for him to hear that `if he didn't look
out,' he would soon become possessed of a pair of eyes "blacker than
he'd had afore!"
Then, naturally, there would be a snigger all round, when Mr Flinders
had to turn away with a scowl on his unpleasant, cross-grained face. He
hated Jan Steenbock all the more, because when the jeering crew
displayed their insubordination more strongly than usual, Jan would very
properly recall them to their duty--an order which on being given by the
second-mate was promptly obeyed, whilst they utterly disregarded even
the most trivial command from him, just as they mocked at his
reprimands.
This was only noticeable at first, though; for, after a few days'
experience of this `playing second fiddle,' Mr Flinders, waxing
stronger as his injuries improved and the discoloration of his `lovely
black eyes' became less apparent, seemed to resolve on trying a fresh
tack. Taking higher ground, instead of idly endeavouring to get the men
to treat him with respect, he once more tackled his subordinate superior
Jan, who, he thought, from his treating him civilly, was sorry for the
`little misunderstanding' that had occurred between them, and would
readily `knuckle under' now, the moment he assumed his legitimate role
and `topped the officer' over him.
Mr Flinders never made a greater mistake in his life than in thus
attempting to act up to the axiom of the old Latin adage, which teaches
us that "necessity makes even cowards brave."
He had far better have remained content with his titular dignity; for,
in seeking to resume the reins of power which he had once let fall, he
only received another lesson from Jan Steenbock, teaching him that a
placid man was not necessarily one who would quietly put up with insult
and rough treatment, and proving that the tables of life are frequently
turned in fact as they sometimes are in figure of speech!
This is a long palaver; but I will soon come to the point of it all, and
tell what subsequently happened.
You must recollect, though, that I was not on the spot myself, and am
only indebted to Jim Chowder for hearing of it--being indeed, at that
very time, on my way with Hiram to the cave and the wonderful surprise
that awaited us there, an account of which I have just related.
Hiram and I had not long left the shore, said Jim, when the mate, who
had his dinner rather late that day, on account of having been up with
the skipper drinking all through the previous night, came down the
ship's side, looking very seedy and ill-tempered from the effects of his
carouse, and with his face all blotchy and his nose red.
He had already been swearing at the steward for keeping him waiting for
his grub, and this appeared to have `got his hand in,' for he had no
sooner come up to where Jan Steenbock was at work with the port watch
digging in the trench, the second-mate setting the men a good example by
wielding a pick as manfully as the best of them, than Mr Flinders began
at Jan in his old abusive fashion, such as all on board the ship had
been familiar with before the wreck and prior to his thrashing, which
certainly had quieted him down for a time.
"Ye durned lop-handled coon!" cried out the cantankerous bully, looking
down on Jan from the top of the plank that crossed the trench, and
served as a sort of gangway between the foot of the side ladder and the
firm ground beyond the excavation. "Why don't ye put yer back into it?
Ye're a nice sort o' skallywag to hev charge of a gang--ye're only
a-playin' at workin', ye an' the hull pack on yer; fur the durned dock
ain't nary a sight deeper than it wer at four bells yester arternoon, I
reckon!"
Jan Steenbock was in no wise disturbed by this exordium.
Dropping his pick, he looked up at the mate; while the rest of the men
likewise stopped working, waiting to see what would happen, and grinning
and nudging each other.
"Mine goot mans," said he in his deep voice, with unruffled composure,
"vas you sbeak to mees?"
Mr Flinders jumped up and down on the plank gangway, making it sway to
and fro with his excitement.
"Vas I sbeak to ye?" he screamed, mimicking in his shrill treble the
Dane's pronunciation. "Who else sh'ud I speak to, ye Dutch son of a
gun? Stir yer stumps, d'ye haar, an' let us see ye airnin' yer keep, ye
lazy hound!"
"Mistaire Vlinders!"
"Aye, thet's me; I'm glad ye reck'lect I've a handle to my name."
"Mistaire Vlinders," repeated Jan, paying no attention to the other's
interruption. "If you vas sbeak to me, you vas best be zee-vil."
"What d'ye mean?" cried the mate. "Durn yer imperence; what d'ye mean?"
"I mean vat I zays," returned Jan; "and eef you vas not zee-vil, I vas
make yous."
"Make me!" shouted out Mr Flinders, dancing with rage on the plank, so
that it swung about more than ever. "Make me, hey? I'd like to see ye,
my hearty!"
But, while the plank was yet oscillating beneath his feet, one of the
men in the trench below, by a dexterous drive of his pick, loosened the
earth on the side of the excavation; and, hardly had Mr Flinders got
out his defiant words than he and the plank on which he was standing
came tumbling down, the bully going plump into the pool of water that
had accumulated at the open end of the trench forming a little lake over
four feet deep.
Of course, the hands all shouted with laughter, their mirth growing all
the merrier when the mate presently emerged from his impromptu bath, all
dripping and plastered over with mud.
He was in a terrible rage, Jim Chowder said; and as Jan Steenbock came
up to help him, he aimed a blow at him with a spade which he clutched
hold of from one of the hands, almost splitting Jan's head open, for the
thick felt hat he wore only saved his life.
"Thaar, ye durned Dutch dog!" he yelled out. "Take thet fur yer sass!"
Jan fell to the bottom of the trench; whereupon, the men, thinking Mr
Flinders had murdered him, at once rushed upon the mate in a body,
thrusting him backwards into the water again and rolling him over in the
mud and refuse, until he was pretty well battered about and nearly
drowned.
Indeed, he would, probably, have been settled altogether, but for Jan
rising up, little the worse for the blow that he had received, saving
that some blood was trickling down his face.
"Shtop, my mans, shtop!" he exclaimed. "Let hims get oop, he vas not
hoort me, aftaire all; and I vas vorgif hims, vor he vas not know vat he
vas do!"
But the hands were too much incensed to let the bully off so easily, for
they hated him as much as they liked Jan and were indignant at the
unprovoked assault Mr Flinders had made upon him. As luck would have
it, while they were debating how they should pay him out properly, and
whether to give him another ducking in the muddy water or no, a happy
means presented itself to them for punishing him in a much more
ignominious manner, and one which was as original as it was amusing.
The big tortoises that inhabited the island used to come backwards and
forwards past the beach on their passage up to the hills, utterly
regardless of the ship and the men working, especially towards the
evening, as now; and just as the fracas happened, one of these huge
creatures waddled by the trench, making for its usual course inland.
"Hullo, mates!" sung out the leading wag of the crew, "let's give our
friend a ride for to dry hisself; here's a cock hoss handy!"
This was thought a capital lark; and, the suggestion being acted upon
immediately, the tortoise was summarily arrested in its onward career
and Mr Flinders lashed across its shelly back, like Mazeppa was
strapped upon the desert steed--the hands all roaring with laughter, Jim
said, while the mate struggled in vain with his captors and the giant
tortoise hissed its objections at the liberty taken with it in thus
converting it into a beast of burden without leave or license!
It must have been a comical sight according to Jim Chowder's account.
Even Jan Steenbock, he said, could not help grinning; for, although Mr
Flinders screamed and yelled as if he were being murdered, Jan saw that
the men were not really hurting him, and he thought there was no call
for his interference, especially after the manner in which the mate had
acted towards him previously--indeed, all along, arrant bully that he
was.
Consequently, he let matters take their course, his smile breaking into
the general laugh that arose presently when, one of the men giving the
tortoise a dig with his boot as soon as the mate was securely mounted,
the unwieldy reptile waddled off into the bush with Mr Flinders,
bawling, spread-eagled on its back and brandishing his arms and legs
about, trying to free himself from his lashings.
"Durn ye all for a pack o' cowards, ten ag'in one!" screamed out the
mate as he was lost to sight in the cactus grove, the prickles from
which no doubt tore his legs, thus heightening the unpleasantness of his
situation. "I'll pay ye out for this, ye scallywags, I will, by
thunder, when I get loose."
"All right," shouted back the men between their bursts of laughter as he
disappeared from view, howling and shrieking and swearing away to the
end; the tortoise plodding on regardless of his struggles, which,
indeed, accelerated its pace onwards to its retreat in the hills. "You
can carry on, old flick, when you finds yourself free!"
And, then, they raised one of their old sailor choruses with much
spirit--
"Oh, he'll never come back no more, boys,
He'll never come back no more;
For he's sailed away to Botany Bay,
And 'll never come back no more!"
While they were in the middle of this--Jim Chowder singing the solo of
the shanty, and the others joining in with full lung power in the
refrain--who should appear from the opposite direction to that in which
the mate had disappeared on his strange steed, but, Captain Snaggs!
The skipper looked very strange and excited.
"Hillo, my jokers!" he exclaimed as soon as he got near enough to hail
the men, "whaar's Mister Flinders? I wants him at oncest."