"I SAY, CAP," SAID MR HALL, "I SHOULD MAROON A FELLOW LIKE THAT!"
While the whole countryside--ay, and the Granite City itself--were
thrilled with awe and horror at the brutal murder of poor unoffending
Craig Nicol, the _Wolverine_ was making her way on the wings of a
delightful ten-knot breeze to the Isle of Madeira.
Reginald had ascertained that there was nothing very serious the matter
with Mr and Mrs Hall. They were run down, however, very much with the
gaieties of Paris and London, to say nothing of New York, and thought
rightly that a long sea voyage would be the best thing to restore them.
Madeira at last! The beach, with its boulders or round sea-smoothed
stones, was a difficult one to land upon. The waves or breakers hurled
these stones forward with a hurtling sound that could be heard miles and
miles away, then as quickly sucked them back again. Nevertheless, the
boat was safely beached, and there were men with willing hands and broad
shoulder to carry Mr and Mrs Hall and daughter safely on to dry land.
Reginald was sure of foot, and lifting Matty in his arms as she crowed
with delight, he bore her safe on shore. The great Newfoundland
despised a boat, and hardly was she well off the yacht ere he leaped
overboard with a splash. And he also landed, shaking himself free of
gallons of water, which made rainbows and halos around him. He drenched
his master pretty severely. But it was a fine joke to Oscar, so,
grinning and laughing as only this breed can, he went tearing along the
beach and back again at the rate of fifteen knots an hour. When he did
come back, he licked his master's hand and little Matty's face.
"Nothing like a good race," he seemed to say, "to set the blood in
motion after a long bath."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
While the party sit in the piazza of a beautiful tree-shaded hotel,
sipping iced sherbet, let me say a word about the nature of the
_Wolverine's_ voyage.
The yacht did not belong to the Halls. She was lent them for the cruise
round the Horn to the South Pacific, and many a beautiful island they
meant to visit, and see many a strange and wondrous sight. For hitherto
all their travelling experiences had been confined to Europe. But your
true American wants to see all the world when he can afford it.
It was health the Halls were in search of, combined with pleasure if
possible; but they meant to collect all the curios they could get, and
they also felt certain--so Mrs Hall said--that they would find the
South Sea savages very interesting persons indeed.
So have I myself found them, especially when their spears were whisking
over my boat and they were dancing in warlike frenzy on the beach. In
such cases, however, a shot or two from a good revolver has a
wonderfully persuasive and calmative effect on even Somali Indians.
We British have called Scotland and England an isle of beauty, but I
question very much if it can cope with Madeira. Here not only have we
splendid mountains, clad in all the beauty of tropical and sub-tropical
shrubs and trees, tremendous cliffs and gorges, raging torrents and
cataracts, with many a bosky dell, lovely even as those birchen glades
in Scotia, but in this heavenly isle there is the sunshine that
overspreads all and sparkles on the sea. And that sea, too!--who could
describe the splendour of its blue on a calm day, patched here and there
towards the shore with browns, seagreens, and opals? No wonder that
after making several visits and picnics in shore and high among the
mountains, borne there by sturdy Portuguese in hammocks, Mrs Hall
should declare that she felt better already.
It was with some reluctance that Mr Hall ordered the anchor to be got
up at last, and all sail made for the Canaries. Near sunset was it when
they sailed slowly away, a sunset of indescribable beauty. A great grey
misty bank of cloud was hanging many degrees above the mountains, but
beneath it was more clear and streaked with long trailing cloudlets of
crimson, light yellow, and purple, the rifts between being of the
deepest sea-green. But over the hills hung a shadow or mist of smoky
blue.
Then descended the sun, sinking in the waters far to the west, a ball of
crimson fire with a pathway of blood 'twixt the horizon and the yacht.
Then night fell, with but a brief twilight. There was going to be a
change, however. The mate, a sturdy, red-faced, weather-beaten, but
comely fellow, sought the captain's cabin and reported a rapidly-falling
glass, and the gradual obliteration of the stars, that erst had shone so
sweetly.
How swiftly comes a squall at times in these seas! A huge bank of
blackest darkness was seen rapidly advancing towards the ship, and
before sail could be taken in or steam got up she was in the grasp of
that merciless demon squall.
For a minute or two she fled before it and the terrible waves, quivering
the while from stem to stern like a dying deer.
Then high above the roaring of the wind, and booming and hissing of the
waves, great guns were heard. It seemed so, at least, but it was but
the bursting of the bellying sails, and platoon-firing next, as the rent
ribbons of canvas crackled and rattled in the gale.
To lie to was impossible now. With the little sail they had left they
must fly on and on. Men staggered about trying to batten down, but for
a time in vain.
Then came a huge pooping wave, that all but swept the decks. It smashed
the bulwarks, it carried away a boat, and, alas! one poor fellow found a
watery grave. He must have been killed before being swept overboard.
Anyhow, he was seen no more. Everything movable was carried forward
with tremendous force. Even the winch was unshipped, and stood partly
on end.
The man at the wheel and the men battening down were carried away on the
current, but though several were badly bruised, they were otherwise
unhurt. Sturdy Captain Dickson had rushed to the wheel, else would the
_Wolverine_ have broached to and sunk in a few minutes.
The water had poured down the companions like cataracts, and it drowned
out the half-lit fires. Mr Hall and party had shut themselves up in
their state-rooms, but everything in the saloon was floating in water
two feet deep.
However, this storm passed away almost as quickly as it had come, and
once more the seas calmed down, and sky and waters became brightly,
ineffably blue. The ship was baled out, and, as the wind had now gone
down, fires were got up, and the _Wolverine_ steamed away for the
Canaries and the marvellous Peak of Teneriffe.
But poor Bill Stevens's death had cast a general gloom throughout the
ship. He was a great favourite fore and aft, always merry, always
laughing or singing, and a right good sailor as well.
So next morning, when red and rosy the sun rose over the sea, orders
were sent forward for the men to "lay aft" at nine o'clock for prayers.
Then it was "wash and scrub decks, polish the wood, and shine the
brasswork."
Right rapidly did the sun dry the decks, so that when Mrs Hall, who had
received a bad shock, was helped on deck by Reginald, everything 'twixt
fo'c'sle and wheel looked clean and nice. The winch had not been badly
damaged, and was soon set to rights.
I should not forget to mention that the only one not really alarmed
during the terrible black Squall was that busy, merry wee body Matty.
When she saw the cataract of waters coming surging in, she speedily
mounted the table. The fiddles had been put on, and to these she held
fast; and she told Reginald all this next morning, adding, "And, oh,
doc, it was so nice--dust (just) like a swinging-rope!"
But she had had a companion; for, after swimming several times round the
table, as if in search of dry land, the beautiful dog clambered up on
the table beside Matty. To be sure, he shook himself, but Matty shut
her eyes, and wiped her face, and on the whole was very glad of his
company.
How solemn was that prayer of Mr Hall for the dead. Granted that he
was what is so foolishly called "a Dissenter" in England, his heart was
in the right place, and he prayed right from that Even his slight nasal
twang in no way detracted from the solemnity of that prayer. Ilda Hall
had her handkerchief to her face, but poor little cabin-boy Ralph
Williams wept audibly. For the drowned sailor had ever been kind to
him.
The captain was certainly a gentleman, and an excellent sailor, but he
had sea ways with him, and now he ordered the main-brace to be spliced;
so all the Jacks on board soon forgot their grief.
"His body has gone to Davy Jones," said one, "but his soul has gone
aloft."
"Amen," said others.
They stayed at Orotava long enough to see the sights, and Reginald
himself and a sailor got high up the peak. He was on board in time for
dinner, but confessed to being tired. He had not forgotten to bring a
splendid basket of fruit with him, however, nor wildflowers rich and
rare.
A long lonely voyage was now before them--south-west and away to Rio de
Janeiro--so ere long everyone on board had settled quietly down to a sea
life.
I must mention here that it was the first mate that had chosen the crew.
He had done so somewhat hastily, I fear, and when I say that there were
two or three Spaniards among them, and more than one Finn, need I add
that the devil was there also?
One Finn in particular I must mention. He was tall to awkwardness.
Somewhat ungainly all over, but his countenance was altogether
forbidding. He had an ugly beard, that grew only on his throat, but
curled up over his chin--certainly not adding to his beauty.
Christian Norman was his name; his temper was vile, and more than once
had he floored poor boy Williams, and even cut his head. He smoked as
often as he had the chance, and would have drunk himself to
insensibility if supplied with vile alcohol.
"I don't like him," said the captain one evening at dinner.
"Nor I," said Reginald.
"I say, cap," said Mr Hall, "I'd maroon a fellow like that! If you
don't, mark my words, he will give us trouble yet."
And he did, as the sequel will show.