During the next week the ship held her course to the eastward, carrying
all sail, and as the lumpy gulf clouds disappeared on the western
horizon, we hauled to the southward to pick up the northeast trade.
The effects of the storm were no longer visible. The dead sailor we
buried the day after we ran out of it. The loss of this man and the one
who was swept overboard by the sea that pooped us caused every one to be
depressed in spirit for several days. But a man is soon forgotten when
he loses the number of his mess. Great and small they drop out, and are
never missed long afterward. In a little while the songs and croakings
that accompanied an accordion belonging to the starboard watch told
plainly that the few tears shed for a lost shipmate among our men were
soon dried and forgotten. Miss Waters repeated her visits to the sick
sailor when his watch were on deck, and several times I saw her going
forward with the third mate, carrying some gruel she had made for him.
Since her remarks to me about having been a sailor and living in a black
hole of a fo’castle, she had said little to me. Her mother still kept to
her bunk during meal hours, and I had escaped facing her, but the girl’s
studied coldness more than outweighed this pleasure.
I could hardly understand why she should object to a man who was a
sailor, when her father and grandfather had both worked their way from
the fo’castle to the quarter-deck. But, then, the woman’s reasoning, I
argued, was peculiar to herself and none the less obstinate for being
illogical.
Although I was at first put out of temper by her remarks, I now saw that
she devoted her attention almost entirely to young Brown when we were at
meals together. This attachment appeared much more fitting for a girl of
her years and position.
I cursed myself heartily for being such a fool as to allow her a moment
in my thought. What was I but a mate and a man nearly twice her age? In
any case, I had no right to expect her to be more than half-civil to me.
As the weather grew warmer, after we picked up the northeast trade, it
was pleasant on deck during the hours of the evening dog-watch. Captain
Crojack was easy enough on his mates during good weather, so Brown and I
got in the habit of sitting on the combings of the after hatch in the
evenings smoking and spinning yarns while waiting for eight bells to
strike.
Supper always took up nearly half of the two hours, and it was hardly
worth while to turn in for the remainder of the watch if the weather was
good.
O’Toole thought as the rest of us did upon this subject, for he
invariably came on deck after his supper at the second table and smoked
a short, black pipe while he spun his yarns.
People often wonder why sailors find it necessary to smoke and lie,
after eating a hearty meal of salt junk and hardtack.
It is just as impossible to explain this as it is to tell why
coal-heavers, or longshoremen, invariably put the receipts for their
truckloads into their hats. It is for some purpose that the sailor is so
constituted. Perhaps good, hard, all-around lying promotes the digestion
of salt food, by getting the system so thoroughly saturated with
deception that the stomach believes the junk fresh. Whatever the
purpose, it is probably a good one.
One night we were running along under skysails, with the trade abaft the
beam. We heeled over gently and sent the foam-flakes swashing from the
sides with a musical, tinkling sound.
The soft hum of the breeze through the rigging, coupled with the regular
sound of the water, was very pleasing to the ears of Brown and myself as
we lounged on the combings and smoked. It lacked half an hour of eight
bells, and then we would relieve O’Toole, who stood at the break of the
poop, lazily watching the canvas.
I dozed until the watch was called, and then the second mate roused me
and gave the ship’s course, observing:
“‘Tis no use av ye goin’ aft whin th’ owld man is there with th’
leddies. He’s in a divil av a timper because I made a remark to th’ man
at th’ wheel an’ th’ young gurl an’ her ma heard me. But he’s always
finding fault lately an’ something seems t’ be bearing down his mind,
an’, by th’ saints, I believe ’tis nothing else than th’ weight av his
own opinion.”
“He says you are a devil for story-books and women, O’Toole, and that’s
the reason you are such a bad second mate,” I answered, smiling.
But O’Toole didn’t laugh. He appeared thoughtful for some moments, and
then said, with great earnestness: “Maybe I am, Mr. Gore, but is it
right for th’ owld man to say it? Is it right for a man who’s had a good
income and a handsome wife t’ blackguard a poor divil av a mate because
he can’t have either, and say that it is his own fault? No, Mr. Gore, I
spake for th’ whole crowd av poor divils, like us, what no dacent
woman’ll take up with. You may not be a bright man, Mr. Gore, savin’
your prisence, but, by th’ Prophet, I give ye th’ credit av being a just
one. But no matter, I’ll say no more.”
He was silent for a few moments, and then broke out afresh:
“Ha! Ha! ’Twas only yisterday, whin they turned th’ roosters an’ hens
out on th’ main-deck t’ give thim an airing, that he began t’ pitch into
th’ fowls thimselves. He chased a couple av thim from under th’ break av
th’ poop, throwin’ a belayin’-pin an’ bawlin’, ‘Git out, ye ornery
burds! Have ye got no regard for ayther time, place, or circumstance?’
’Pon me whurd, ’tis a wonder he didn’t break out his Bible an’ read one
av th’ tin commandments t’ thim. It’s a sky-pilot he’s makin’ av th’
owld, rip-roarin’ skipper he used t’ be.”
I went aft and found Crojack talking to the passengers, so, after saying
a few words, I made some excuse to go forward again. O’Toole was still
sitting on the hatch combings, talking to the third mate. I walked
athwartships, under the break of the poop, watching the canvas aloft
and at the same time listening to scraps of the conversation.
“Faith, I don’t mind gettin’ th’ blame for me own sins,” he was saying,
for he was still sore from Crojack’s faultfinding, “but ’tis the takin’
av other people’s upon mesilf that makes me feel onhealthy. I’ve seen
enough av the world t’ know that it don’t pay t’ take overmuch
responsibility.
“There was a case av th’ kind happened aboard th’ _Eagle_, frigate, whin
I was captain av th’ maintop, and used t’ teach my fellows how t’ swing
a cutlass an’ handle a pistol without making it safer t’ be an inimy
than a friend. This, av course, I did whin I was on deck.
“We was in Havana, an’ ’twas hot work drillin’ there, but it wouldn’t
have been so bad if th’ owld man hadn’t shut down on th’ beer. As it
was, th’ men tried all kinds av ways t’ get th’ stuff on deck from th’
shore. Sometimes they would try and concale it in their clothes, in
order to get it aboard, but it was a poor way whin so many was thirsty.
“Finally, th’ bhoys got hold av an idea to float th’ stuff down th’
tideway by th’ keg at night, an’ thin pull it aboard over th’ cat-head
whin no one was lookin’.
“There was one divil av a Mike, that was always gettin’ into scrapes,
who paid a dago to start a keg one night about eight bells in th’ first
watch.
“He was on the lookout for it, an’ got it aboard all safe enough, but
th’ officer av th’ deck comin’ for’ard at th’ time, he was forced to
concale th’ stuff as quick as he could, an’ he did this by rollin’ th’
stuff into th’ bo’s’n’s locker.
“Ye see, th’ bo’s’n was a dead square and proper man, an’ he niver broke
a rule or disobeyed an order; so he thought it was safe.
“Somehow or other, th’ officer, McGraw, wanted a cringle for something,
an’ av course he went straight for th’ locker an’ found it.
“Williams was called t’ the mast an’ asked t’ explain how a keg av good
beer made its way into his locker.
“Ye see, he had an idea that he must shield th’ feller Mike, who was no
good whatever, an’ made more trouble aboard than th’ whole ship’s
company besides. So when Captain Broadchin asked th’ question th’ bo’s’n
got mighty quiet like, an’ the old man had t’ repeat th’ askin’ more’n
onct. He looked awful glum and solemn when he did answer.
“‘Whist!’ sez he, in a deep, pious tone, ‘faith, an’ yer honour, I
belave th’ ship’s ha’nted.’
“‘What’s that?’ sez th’ owld man.
“‘Yes, sir,’ sez he. ‘I was walking for’ard, just afore eight bells,
whin I see a keg av beer floatin’ in th’ air abaft th’ fore riggin’. I
knew ’twas ’gainst orders t’ tech th’ stuff, an’ th’ only way t’ save
the boys was to hide th’ keg as soon as it lit on th’ main-deck. How th’
rest av th’ watch missed seein’ the keg floatin’ past th’ fore riggin’ I
can’t make out at all, at all. But that’s th’ truth, th’ whole truth,
an’ a divil a bit besides th’ truth, s’help me Gawd!’
“Well, ye see, old Broadchin was so well satisfied with th’ explanation
that he niver said another whurd, an’ he believed so well that he was
a-tellin’ av th’ truth that he clapped him in irons an’ kept him ’tween
decks th’ whole av’ th’ cruise.
“Whin he was discharged he was all broke in health, an’ he got good an’
drunk an’ came back t’ say good-bye t’ all hands, for he was a good
feller, even in liquor.
“‘Good-bye, O’Toole, an’ may th’ Lord bless an’ prosper ye,’ sez he. An’
thin he shakes hands all around an’ comes aft t’ where th’ officers was
sittin’.
“‘Good-bye, Mr. McGraw, an’ may th’ Lord bless an’ prosper ye,’ sez he
t’ th’ liftenant. Then he walked up t’ th’ owld man.
“‘Good-bye t’ ye, too, sir,’ sez he. ‘Good-bye, Captain Broadchin, an’
may th’ Lord bless an’ prosper ye, too, sir--but to a damned limited
extint!’
“An’ there was a good bo’s’n gone, all because av that Mike. So I made
up me mind thin an’ there niver t’ take another man’s sins upon me sowl,
nor shield any av his ornery doin’s by mesilf.”
Brown laughed a little at O’Toole’s account, and then said, with more
earnestness than I thought the occasion required:
“After all, the bo’s’n did the right thing, for it would have been
rather a mean piece of business to have told how the beer came into his
possession and gotten the whole watch in trouble.”
“Not a bit av it--it would have saved a good bo’s’n an’ me a lot av
rope’s-ending upon th’ hide av that good-for-nothing man, Mike.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” replied Brown, “I don’t think much of a
man who won’t shield his friends. Suppose, for instance, you had a good
friend or brother, and something occurred that might get him into
trouble. Wouldn’t you do what you could to keep him out of it?”
“Now, ’pon me whurd, if ye ain’t entirely out av your reckoning. I’d see
him forty fathoms below anywhere at all before I’d risk mesilf.”
Brown rose from the hatch and gave a groan of disgust. Then he went aft
on the quarter-deck, and all of that watch he appeared to be thinking
over some interesting subject. He was so absorbed that he hardly spoke
to me until midnight. Then he gave a sigh of relief, and, as O’Toole
came to relieve us, we went below.
I stopped a few moments to take a bite of the salt junk set out on the
cabin table for the mates. Afterward, seeing the light in his stateroom,
I passed by his open door to see why a third mate should stay awake
during his watch below.
There he sat in his bunk, with a great pile of the most flashy police
reports of the period on the stool beside him.
“Come in, Mr. Gore,” said he. “I have just made a fine haul of papers.
Found them in that quartermaster’s chest this morning. Take one; they
are uncommonly interesting,” and he gave me one with an enormous woman
in tights pictured on the cover.
“Thanks,” I said. “Good night,” and I went to my room and turned in.