“As I was saying, when I married and settled down amongst the hills to
the east’ard o’ the Sacramento, I thought I’d about served my time on
deep water and had come on the beach for good. You see, I married old
man White’s daughter--he was a brother to Skipper White, what sailed
that race with old man Gore around the Cape--and, as the gal was young
and had helped keep house for the old man, I reckoned we’d get along
first-rate. But there was bad blood in that White family. The old man
had run a boarding-house down by the St. Joe Mission, and he was a bad
man. His wife’s brother, Skipper Anderson, had done some queer things,
and had got a hard name on the West Coast long ago, when I was with him.
So, you see, there was bad blood in the family.
“After I had married and bought a little farm, I just settled down,
peaceful like, and waited for the family to increase and multiply. You
can bet I was some astonished one day, about two months afterward, when
I found the family had increased and multiplied all of a sudden like.
“So I went to the fellow what sold me this vial--which cures most things
in the head--and he told me there was no accounting for the strange and
curious things what happen along in the course o’ nature. At first,
though, he began on science, and told me there was no explanation unless
I could follow him through a lot o’ stuff what was writ in a book in a
foreign language. He had just about convinced me that all was right when
he began on the course o’ nature.
“I ain’t much when it’s a question of science or foreign languages, but
I’m way up as high as a skysail truck when it comes down to the course
o’ nature. So I told him I guessed it was a family affair, and that I
wouldn’t be missed much if I left the valley.
“He grinned some, and told me I was a suspicious old duffer, and I
smashed a bottle of castor-oil over his figgerhead, and started for
’Frisco.
“You see, I had a bit o’ stuff left out of that deal on the Clipperton
Reef, where we dived for gold in a couple of fathoms of water as it lay
in the bilge of the _Isabella_. I reckoned to live easy enough without
standing watch. I wouldn’t trust to them banks, so I had the stuff in
bills stitched in a belt around my waist. When I got to town, a man came
up to me with a rush and grabbed me by the hand, and he was no other
than that rascal mate of Hollender’s what got two years for an incident
on a voyage to Havre.
“I wasn’t glad to see the fellow, as I always had a liking for clean
company. But I was feeling lonesome. He just fell down and rolled over
with laughing, saying: ‘Oh, it can’t be true, it can’t be true. Oh, no,
no, no; it can’t possibly be true. It ain’t so. There ain’t no such
luck.’ And he laughed so hard that the tears rolled down out of his
little, fishy eyes. All the time swearing that, of all men, he was most
pleased to meet his old shipmate Garnett.
We went about town and took a few drinks together, and he kept on
laughing and telling me how glad he was to meet me again. I paid for the
drinks, and I guess I drank some.
“The next morning when I woke up, I didn’t have a thing left in the
world but the shirt I slept in. The scoundrel would have taken that,
too, if it hadn’t fitted me so tight. He even took my old shoes.
“There I was, half-naked, a-roarin’ an’ bellowin’ for further orders,
till they clapped me into the calaboose for a crazy, half-drunken old
sailor. They gave me some togs after I got sober enough to put them on,
and, as I had nothing left in the world, I had to sign on, and I soon
finds myself in Liverpool.
“But it was all them clothes’ fault I took to this job. Them Samaritans
wot lives intirely fer the sake o’ others mostly fumigates all their
clothes o’ the clink. Likewise the smell o’ the sulphur sticks in them,
an’ somehow I must have smelt like a gorilla, fer as soon as I heaves in
sight o’ any one, they puts their fingers to their noses and sheers off.
Sink me, Mr. Gore, that was a fine odour I carries about me, an’ if ye
object to a bit o’ peppermint salts,--which is good fer the head,--yer
ought ter smelt me then.
“I asked a man fer a job buildin’ a house,--not as I ever had a hand at
buildin’ afore, but he just sheers off and coughs, an’ calls me a
stinkin’ skunk, and I heaves a brick at him. Then I tries a store
sellin’ meat, but they sicks the dog on me, and I heaves away again.
“‘Twas that way everywhere I goes. Nobody would stand near me an’ listen
to my tale. I couldn’t shuck the clothes, and I couldn’t get clear o’
the smell. So I finally starts down alongshore, where the smells is so
mixed there’s no tellin’ which stinks the worst.
“Here I runs across this Webster, who is cousin to old man Jackson at
the Falklands, and who is the most uncommon damn fool, as he says
himself.”
“‘Pon me whurd, he’s got the proper man for a mate to back him, thin,”
observed O’Toole.
“I do know something about handling canvas,” answered Garnett, taking
the remark for a compliment; “but may I eternally stew if I don’t speak
the truth when I says it takes a m-a-n to handle those gangs about
decks.”
“What air ye pratin’ about, man? Do ye mane yer own watch?”
“Now, stave me endwise if you ain’t the same red-headed idiot you always
was,” growled Garnett. “Calling a watch a gang! Lord love ye, man, there
are one hundred and twenty men atween decks o’ that clipper, and every
mother’s son is an out an’ out, all around--”
“Steady, steady, mate,” I said. “Those ladies will hear you if you don’t
brace up that tongue of yours.”
“D’ye mane t’ say ye are a convict ship?” cried O’Toole, in amazement.
I tried to conceal my astonishment, but O’Toole jumped up and stood on
the hatch, staring hard at the Englishman. “‘Pon me whurd, it is so, fer
a fact. Now may the prophet sind us a good wind to waft us from sich
company. B’ th’ faith av the howly saints, Garnett, I never thought it.
’Pon me whurd I didn’t. Now that’s a cargo I don’t want to sail with,
an’ ye must be way down, shipmate, when ye drop t’ th’ carrying av a lot
av human cattle. Lord! One hundred and twenty poor divils goin’ ter hell
as fast as Bill Garnett can pilot them. So that’s the whyfore ye are
headed for the Andamans.”
“Sure,” was Garnett’s laconic answer.
“But you don’t turn to the whole gang at once, do you?” I asked.
“How in the name of thunder can ye turn to a hundred and twenty men in
irons,” answered the old mate, with a grin. “Turn them out in small
gangs, man. Poor devils they be, sure enough, but they get plenty of
exercise atween decks when the old hooker gets a-switching into it, when
it comes on to blow. Besides, those ports you see painted on her sides
there are not all make-believe. Some of them will open and let in the
air, when the hatches make it too close. I’ve been in worse places than
that ’tween decks on that ship, and I never was a convict, either.”
“I’ve heard tell that law and justice were two things av an ontirely
different nature,” grunted O’Toole, without removing his gaze from the
convict ship.
“S’help me, ’tis a fact,” chuckled Garnett, “and I onct heard a skipper
say that he had onct met a man who was a bigger fool than Larry
O’Toole,--but he couldn’t call to mind exactly who the fellow was.”
While the mates were chaffing each other, an uproar arose from the after
cabin.
I could distinguish Crojack’s hoarse voice, raised to a pitch that I
knew meant danger to some one. The cabin skylight was open, and the
voices of both skippers seemed to come from just beneath it.
“D’ye mean to say that England owns the whole Western Ocean?” roared
the old man.
“Up to within three miles of any beach whatever,” cried the little
Englishman. “But don’t bellow at me, sir; I’m not deaf, and I won’t
allow any one to bellow at me, sir.”
“Well, by gorry! England don’t,” roared Crojack.
“I decline to argue the case any further with you, sir,” replied the
small skipper, “but I’ll head my course just the same. You have a most
uncommon voice, sir, also most extraordinary good grog. So fill my glass
and don’t sit there bellowing at me, sir. Nothing aggravates me more
than a man bellowing at me. Don’t do it, I say, or I’ll go--”
“You may go to hell!” roared Crojack.
“I may, sir, indeed I may, but”--then came a pause during which I could
hear the clink of glasses--“if I do, sir, I’ll head a straight course,
sir, and arrive there shipshape with my yards squared, so her
Majesty’ll have no cause to be ashamed of me, though I sincerely
hope--”
Then the voice of the little skipper drew away, and I glanced at the
door of the companionway just as his cap appeared above the combings.
As he stepped on deck he bowed to the ladies and proceeded, with great
deliberation, to put on his coat. He had removed it during the
discussion below.
“Madam,” said he, addressing Mrs. Waters, “I should extend the
hospitality of my ship to you--that is, I would invite you to do me the
honour of a visit--were it not that the cargo we carry is unworthy of
inspection. I, therefore, wish you a pleasant voyage, and trust your
husband will learn moderation from you. If not, he will prove a most
uncommon and extraordinary companion for you,” and he waved his hand at
Crojack, who stood on the top step of the companionway. The little
skipper then walked quietly to the break of the poop and sung out
lustily for Mr. Garnett. Captain Crojack remained aft, his face wearing
an expression of extreme ill humour.
Garnett was within two fathoms of his master, but he sprang to his feet
at the hail and answered, “Ay, ay, sir,” in hurricane tones.
“Mr. Garnett, is the boat ready?”
“Yes, sir, all ready, sir,” bawled the old sailor as he glanced at the
two men of his crew. They immediately sprang over the rail and dropped
into her.
“Is all the gear in her?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Then take me aboard my ship as quick as you can, for I’ve wasted all
the morning talking to a blockhead.” And he made his way over the side
without a word of farewell to Crojack. Garnett followed instantly, and
in a few moments they were back again on board the Englishman.
From our decks we could hear the old mate bawling orders to a crowd of
sailors, who hooked on the tackles and whisked the small boat on to its
berth almost before the skipper had walked aft to the poop.
[Illustration: “I FOUND TIME TO DO SOME WORK UPON THE WHEEL GEAR.”]