Captain Dickson was just as kind to Norman, the Finn, as he was to
anyone else. Perhaps more so. Not that he dreaded him. Dickson would
have shot him with as little compunction as shooting a panther had he
given him even a mutinous answer. But he often let him have double
allowance of rum. "You're a big man," he would say; "you need a little
more than the little ones."
Norman would smile grimly, but swallow it. He would even buy the men's,
for he seemed to have plenty of money. When half-seas-over Norman would
swagger and rant and sing, and with little provocation he would have
fought. The other Finns and the Spaniard, besides an Englishman or two,
always took Norman's side in an argument.
So things went on until Rio was reached. What a splendid harbour--ships
of all nations here; what a romantic city as seen from the sea, and the
surroundings how romantic, rivalling even Edinburgh itself in beauty!
It was early summer here, too. They had left autumn and the coming
winter far away in the dreary north. I shall make no attempt to
describe the floral grandeur of the country here. I have done so
before. But not only Reginald, but all the Halls, and Matty as well,
were able to walk round and admire the tropical vegetation and the
gorgeous flowers in the gardens; and in the town itself the fish-market
and fruit-market were duly wondered at, for everything was new and
strange to the visitors.
Further out into the country they drove all among the peaked and
marvellous mountains and the foliaged glens, and Matty, who sat on
Reginald's knee, clapped her hands with delight to see the wee, wee
humming-birds buzzing from flower to flower "like chips of rainbows," as
Ilda phrased it, and the great butterflies as big as fans that floated
in seeming idleness here, there, and everywhere.
A whole week was spent here, and every day afforded fresh enjoyments.
But they must sail away at last. The captain had half-thought of
leaving the Finn Norman here, but the man seemed to have turned over a
new leaf, so he relented.
South now, with still a little west in it. The good ship encountered
more bad weather. Yet so taut and true was she, and so strong withal,
that with the exception of the waves that dashed inboards--some of them
great green seas that rolled aft like breakers on a stormy beach--she
never leaked a pint.
Captain Dickson and his mate paid good attention to the glass, and never
failed to shorten sail and even batten down in time, and before the
approach of danger.
But all went well and the ship kept healthy. Indeed, hardly was there a
sick man among the crew. Little Matty was the life and soul of the
yacht. Surely never on board ship before was there such a merry little
child! Had anyone been in the saloon as early as four, or even three,
bells in the morning watch, they might have heard her lightsome laugh
proceeding from her maid's cabin; for Matty was usually awake long
before the break of day, and it is to be presumed that Maggie, the maid,
got little sleep or rest after that.
Reginald used to be on deck at seven bells, and it was not long before
he was joined by Matty. Prettily dressed the wee thing was, in white,
with ribbons of blue or crimson, her bonnie hair trailing over her back
just as wild and free as she herself was.
Then up would come Oscar, the great Newfoundland. Hitherto it might
have been all babyish love-making between Reginald and Matty.
"I loves 'oo," she told him one morning, "and when I'se old eno' I'se
doin' (going) to mally 'oo."
Reginald kissed her and set her down on the deck.
But the advent of the grand dog altered matters considerably. He came
on deck with a dash and a spring, laughing, apparently, all down both
sides.
"You can't catch me," he would say, or appear to say, to Matty.
"I tan tatch 'oo, twick!" she would cry, and off went the dog forward at
the gallop, Matty, screaming with laughter, taking up the running,
though far in the rear.
Smaller dogs on board ship are content to carry and toss and play with a
wooden marlin-spike. Oscar despised so puny an object. He would not
have felt it in his huge mouth. But he helped himself to a capstan bar,
and that is of great length and very heavy. Nevertheless, he would not
drop it, and there was honest pride in his beaming eye as he swung off
with it. He had to hold his head high to balance it. But round and
round the decks he flew, and if a sailor happened to cross his hawse the
bar went whack! across his shins or knees, and he was left rubbing and
lamenting.
Matty tried to take all sorts of cross-cuts between the masts or boats
that lay upside down on the deck, but all in vain. But Oscar would tire
at last, and let the child catch him.
"Now I'se tatched 'oo fairly!" she would cry, seizing him by the shaggy
mane.
Oscar was very serious now, and licked the child's cheek and ear in the
most affectionate manner, well knowing she was but a baby.
"Woa, horsie, woa!" It was all she could do to scramble up and on to
Oscar's broad back. Stride-legs she rode, but sometimes, by way of
practical joke, after she had mounted the dog would suddenly sit down,
and away slid Matty, falling on her back, laughing and sprawling, all
legs and arms, white teeth, and merry, twinkling eyes of blue.
"Mind," she would tell Oscar, after getting up from deck and preparing
to remount, "if 'oo sits down adain, 'oo shall be whipped and put into
the black hole till the bow-mannie (an evil spirit) tomes and takes 'oo
away!"
Oscar would now ride solemnly aft, 'bout ship and forward as far as the
fo'c's'le, and so round and round the deck a dozen times at least.
When dog and child were tired of playing together, the dog went in
search of breakfast down below, to the cook's galley. There was always
the stockpot, and as every man-jack loved the faithful fellow he didn't
come badly off.
But even Norman the Finn was a favourite of Matty's, and he loved the
child. She would run to him of a morning, when his tall form appeared
emerging from the fore-hatch. He used to set her on the capstan, from
which she could easily mount astride on his shoulders, grasping his hair
to steady herself.
How she laughed and crowed, to be sure, as he went capering round the
deck, sometimes pretending to rear and jib, like a very wicked horse
indeed, sometimes actually bucking, which only made Matty laugh the
more.
Ring, ding, ding!--the breakfast bell; and the child was landed on the
capstan once more and taken down--now by her devoted sweetheart,
Reginald Grahame.
The ship was well found. Certainly they had not much fresh meat, but
tinned was excellent, and when a sea-bank was anywhere near, as known
from the colour of the water, Dickson called away a boat and all hands,
and had fish for two days at least. Fowls and piggies were kept
forward. Well, on the whole she was a very happy ship, till trouble
came at last.
It was Mr Hall's wish to go round the stormy and usually ice-bound
Horn. The cold he felt certain would brace up both himself and his
wife. But he wished to see something of the romantic scenery of
Magellan's Straits first, and the wild and savage grandeur of Tierra del
Fuego, or the Land of Fire. They did so, bearing far to the south for
this purpose.
The weather was sunny and pleasant, the sky blue by day and star-studded
by night, while high above shone that wondrous constellation called the
Southern Cross. Indeed, all the stars seemed different from what they
were used to in their own far northern land.
Now, there dwells in this fierce land a race of the most implacable
savages on earth. Little is known of them except that they are
cannibals, and that their hands are against everyone. But they live
almost entirely in boats, and never hesitate to attack a sailing ship if
in distress.
Hall and Dickson were standing well abaft on the quarter-deck smoking
huge cigars, Mr Hall doing the "yarning," Dickson doing the laughing,
when suddenly a harsh grating sound caused both to start and listen.
Next minute the vessel had stopped. There she lay, not a great way off
the shore, in a calm and placid sea, with not as much wind as would lift
a feather, "As idle as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean."
In a few minutes' time the Scotch engineer, looking rather pale, came
hurrying aft.
"Well, Mr McDonald, what is the extent of the damage? Shaft broken?"
"Oh, no, sir, and I think that myself and men can put it all to rights
in four days, if not sooner, and she'll be just as strong as ever."
"Thank you, Mr McDonald; so set to work as soon as possible, for mind
you, we are lying here becalmed off an ugly coast. The yacht would make
very nice pickings for these Land of Fire savages."
"Yes, I know, sir; and so would we."
And the worthy engineer departed, with a grim smile on his face. He
came back in a few minutes to beg for the loan of a hand or two.
"Choose your men, my good fellow, and take as many as you please."
Both Hall and Dickson watched the shore with some degree of anxiety. It
was evident that the yacht was being swept perilously near to it. The
tide had begun to flow, too, and this made matters worse. Nor could
anyone tell what shoal water might lie ahead of them.
There was only one thing to be done, and Dickson did it. He called away
every boat, and by means of hawsers to each the _Wolverine_ was finally
moved further away by nearly a mile.
The sailors were now recalled, and the boats hoisted. The men were
thoroughly exhausted, so the doctor begged the captain to splice the
main-brace, and soon the stewardess was seen marching forward with
"Black Jack." Black Jack wasn't a man, nor a boy either, but simply a
huge can with a spout to it, that held half a gallon of rum at the very
least.
The men began to sing after this, for your true sailor never neglects an
opportunity of being merry when he can. Some of them could sing
charmingly, and they were accompanied by the carpenter on his violin.
That grand old song, "The Bay of Biscay," as given by a bass-voiced
sailor, was delightful to listen to. As the notes rose and fell one
seemed to hear the shrieking of the wind in the rigging, the wild
turmoil of the dashing waters, and the deep rolling of the thunder that
shook the doomed ship from stem to stern.
"Hullo?" cried Hall, looking shorewards. "See yonder--a little black
fleet of canoes, their crews like devils incarnate!"
"Ha!" said Dickson. "Come they in peace or come they in war, we shall
be ready. Lay aft here, lads. Get your rifles. Load with ball
cartridge, and get our two little guns ready and loaded with grape."
The savages were indeed coming on as swift as the wind, with wild shouts
and cries, meant perhaps only to hurry the paddle-men, but startling
enough in all conscience.