WORKING THE SHIP
It was now ten o'clock, and the ship steadily held her way over the
plunging seas, and the wind came from out the vague spaces of the
night, not chill, but bracing. How Jim loved it! Sometimes he felt
when he was pacing the deck at night on watch, that he liked the ocean
even better than the mountains.
As he strode back and forth he thought and pondered over Jeems' story.
Suppose they should find this rich pocket mine of gold in the Sierras,
what would they do with the money? Jim was not grasping and the mere
idea of getting rich did not appeal to him. "A fool can make money,"
he had sometimes said, "but it takes a wise man to spend it." Then he
brought his fist down hard upon the rail.
"I've got it, Jo," he cried, "if we find that mine, we will take a
trip around the world and see if we can't discover something new.
We've got the ship already."
"What do we need of more money?" asked Jo. "Let's head her around now
and strike out for the Philippines. We have got some of that treasure
left that we discovered in Mexico."
"I wonder what Pap would say," replied Jim, lowering his voice, "if he
found that he had been shanghied in any such fashion. I suspicion that
there would be a mutiny aboard this craft."
"I forgot about him," admitted Jo.
"Another thing, you don't realize how much money it takes to keep a
yacht going, even if we are under sail part of the time. This boat has
got to be overhauled when we get to port. Drydocked for one thing,
liable to cost $500; then the engines will have to be overhauled. Next
coal and provisions----"
"I reckon we had better discover that mine," agreed Jo.
"That's where you show your good sense," concluded Jim.
So as the schooner yacht went northward following her unseen path
through the darkness, the boys' minds were busy with their plans for
the future. For one, I envy them their buoyant freedom, their hearty
comradeship, and their chance for new and varying adventure. Yet they
had earned much of the good fortune that had come to them by their
pluck in danger and their cheerful endurance of hardship.
At two o'clock Tom was called on deck to take the wheel, and Jeems
Howell to stand watch. Not a very strong maritime team, to be sure,
but with the calm mild weather it was safe enough, and the captain
was near at hand if any trouble should arise suddenly from out the
darkness of the sea.
"Do you suppose you two land lubbers can manage, without running us
aground?" inquired Jim.
"Aye, aye, sir!" replied Jeems cheerfully.
"I'm just as liable to run this thing in a circle," replied Tom, "and
we will butt into Hawaii before we know it."
As a matter of fact, the boys were all pretty fair sort of sailors by
this time, in a kind of make-shift practical way. They had received
good instruction from old Pete, and capable supervision from the old
captain, and it gave them confidence to have him back of them in case
anything unusual should come up.
Juarez, who was really a mechanical genius, went below in the
engine-room to relieve the engineer. He spent his happiest hours in a
pair of greasy jumpers working over the engine, feeding it with oil,
polishing it until it shone, and giving it constant attention. The
taciturn engineer had taken quite a fancy to Juarez, who was himself
as silent as an Indian. He had taught Juarez a great deal about his
intricate trade, and the pupil had been quick to profit, always
watching and observing, and saying little.
It seemed to Juarez that he was at the center of things when he was
watching over the throbbing, steady, ceaseless movement of the engine;
and shut off from the outside world, his thoughts seemed to time with
the steady, powerful harmony of the mechanism, with its living spirit
of steam within the polished framework. Many a boy who reads these
lines will envy Juarez Hoskins, assistant engineer of the _Sea Eagle_,
and will understand his feelings perhaps even better than the writer.
Nor did Juarez mind the heat, as with the jumper fastened over his
brown naked shoulders, and bare head, he went busily about the
engine-room whistling softly to himself. Old Pete passed near on his
way into the hold, and in a short time up came the boy stoker, black
as a gnome and cheerful as a darkey, for he was Irish, which I take to
be a Hibernian remark.
Thus with the exception of Pete the Frontier Boys were in charge of
their ship and running it all right too. There was no question that
this practise cruise to Hawaii was a fine thing for them, and after it
was over they would be well qualified to take the _Sea Eagle_ wherever
their fancy might dictate, or where necessity might require.
The next morning broke bright and balmy and the boys settled down
to regular sea routine: scrubbing decks, steering, polishing the
brasswork, and last, but not least, cooking. Some things were now
present on the bill of fare which were absent when they sailed from
the coast. For instance, there were bananas, some yellow and ripe,
others a bright green which would ripen on the voyage.
There was also half a bushel of mangoes, a most delicious fruit of
juicy yellow meat, and a tart flavor hidden among its sweetness. There
was also a small barrel of poi, the staple Hawaiian article of diet,
of which the boys had grown very fond during their short sojourn in
Hawaii. It was a thick bluish paste, and most nutritious.
Poi was made from a native root called taro, of mottled bluish-white
meat. This was pounded up with water to a thick consistency and
according to the native custom eaten from bowls into which the two
forefingers were dipped, whirled around and then transferred quickly
and gracefully to the mouth. It was an interesting spectacle to see
Tom, for instance, seated on a hatch, his bare legs crossed before
him, and a bowl of poi between them. Then Tom would throw his head
back and pop his two fingers into his mouth with much and evident
enjoyment.
Now poi is very fattening and the boys used to tease Jeems Howell
about his getting a corporation, as he was naturally as thin as a
slab. "You would look funny waddling around the deck, Jeems," said
Jim, "and the fat shaking on your tummy when you laughed."
"Could use me for ballast then, Skipper," he would remark, "but I
ain't worrying any. When I see myself fat I'll believe it and not
before."
One day the dead calm of sea monotony was broken by a breeze of
excitement. It was morning and Tom was at the wheel, while on the
bridge was Juarez keeping a sharp lookout, as was his custom, although
there was not much to expect in the way of interest. As far as
sighting a sail, that was most unlikely, for this part of the ocean
through which they were traveling was nothing but a blue desert, as
far as other ships were concerned.
"What's that coming now?" cried Juarez. "I can't make it out."
"Where?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Low down on the northeast quarter," said Juarez.
"I see what you mean," remarked Tom, but he too was puzzled.
"I'll get the glass," suggested Juarez.
This done, he took a good long pull at it, his legs well braced
against the roll of the ship, and making a very nautical figure
indeed. Then he made out the enemy clearly; three big black hulls
they were, and then from the bow of one a column of steam--or was
it water?--went slanting into the air. Juarez's frame stiffened
with interest and excitement.
"Whales!" he cried.
"What's that, lad?" It was the captain, who was supposedly asleep in
his cabin, which was the deck house, but he responded quickly to the
magic word, "Whales."
"Gimme the glass," he ordered, his hand outstretched. The boys watched
him with interested attention. "Three of 'em," he cried. "Gosh! I wish
I was younger."
By this time the whole Frontier gang was present on the quarter deck
looking at the dark spots on the blue ocean that now had become
visible to the naked eye. To say that they were interested was to put
it very mildly. There was a strange interest to these marine monsters.
"Let's get one of those fellows," cried Juarez. "We have a couple of
harpoons."
"Get ready, boys," cried Jim. "It's a go."
"What!" roared the captain. "You boys can't spear a whale even if you
did get nigh him. He would spank you to kingdom come with his tail.
You stay right here where I can keep an eye on you. The idea of you
tackling a whale. Why, it's plumb ridiculous. Just a passel of kittens
when it comes to whaling." Then he stopped to blow, entirely
exhausted.