Mike had long since sobered, and was now getting better of the
dry-mouth and dry-tongue feeling that had followed his drunkenness. He
leant with folded arms upon the poop rail and observed how, in the
estuary, where the shores rapidly receded one from the other, the
lightships were all booming. A ball of steam rose from each, and anon
came the shriek. There was something unreal about the whole view.
Kind sunlight was upon the deck of the _Glory_. The precipitous bank,
the higher south bank, could be seen clearly, rolling up shining,
dew-wet, a glistening green; and yet the sirens kept calling. Suddenly
there showed up, some distance off, two pieces of stick, erect, a short
and a long one, and then a low mist rolled aside, and the two pieces of
stick were disclosed as the mast tops of a schooner. Mike looked at
the last lightship, and noticed how only its top was visible. The mist
lay low, and in banks. Not for great steamers, like the _Glory_,
standing high, did the sirens roar, but for the little sailing vessels
and coasters under the haze. And now, day advancing, that haze began
to disappear. Looking over the side he saw the green water quite
clear, and something was swimming in it. Elbows on the taffrail, he
glanced over his shoulder to see if there was anybody near him who
would be interested, but there were only some of the "youse" about, who
might reply, if he pointed out to them this otter, that so pleased him:
"Well, what about it?"
The "youse" behind him broke out suddenly with: "Got any tobacco,
Frenchy?"
"Feenish!" came Frenchy's voice, and Pierre strolled past. He too
looked over the side, and Mike glanced at him.
"Otter, Pierre," he said. "You savvy otter?"
"Ah yes, so! What you call? Otter?"
"Yes, what they call an otter. Very good swim?"
"Yes, swim all right," and Pierre pensively watched the otter swimming
away sternwards.
"How you getting on down at the galley?" asked Mike, for Pierre had
been told off to sit at the galley door peeling potatoes, washing up,
and so forth, on behalf of the upper deck. Pierre shrugged his
shoulders.
"Not ver' good," he said.
"Who's helping you for the lower deck? Somebody helping you for the
lower deck?" asked Mike.
"Two!" replied Pierre, and held up two fingers.
"Two!" said Mike, frowning, as though something was wrong.
"Not together. One man was come down with me--you know, man with
hat----" and he held his hands up some distance out from his head on
either side. Mike nodded. "He came down with me first day. Candlass
tell me go down. Rafferty tell him. The cook talk rough. He say
nozing--he just look. The cook say: 'What the hell you look at me?'
and he say to cook--something I don't know. The cook run and get----"
Pierre made a motion as of one who chops beef with a cleaver.
"A mate cl'aver!" said Mike, to the manner born.
"I don't know what you call. For chop--for cut meat."
"Yes, that's right. And what was the feller with the hat after doing?"
The interesting conversation had a pause of puzzlement.
"I beg your pardon," said Pierre.
Mike, too, was worried for a moment, in his anxiety to hear the tale.
"Yes, yes. What?" he said.
"Ze cook run out at zees man, but he did not jump. He stand and look.
Ze cook drop his hand and put the knife with handle down."
"The cl'aver," said Mike.
"What you say? Oh, yes, clever--ver' clever, not afraid. There is
nozing more for a little while, then the cook come to the door and he
say: 'I have white vife in Liverpool,' and this man----" and again the
gesture on either side of the head--"say: 'Come outside.'"
"He is a nigger, is he--a black fellow?"
"Black, yes. He say: 'What you mean?' This fellow only say once more:
'Come outside.' The cook stand inside door and say: 'Yah! You
someting cattleman!' and zees man heet him."
"Eh?"
"Heet."
"Oh yes, quite."
Pierre showed where, jabbing his own fist under his chin.
"He go down bang! And he get up and reach for----" and again he
indicated the cleaver. "But zees man with big hat have valise like me.
He give it to the baker to keep for him for a shilling----"
"A valise!" said Mike. "Go on."
"He jump inside baker's cabin, and he say: 'Partner, you give me my
valise dam' quick!' He grab it from inside and bring out one revolver.
Ze cook run past me and say: 'Where he go?' I say nozing--I am too
excite. And zees man----" again he showed the breadth of hat--"there
he is, throw down valise, and he say to the cook: 'You drop that,' he
say. 'You get in galley.' And he follow the cook, and baker follow
him. Ze baker do not like ze cook. All day ze cook shout at him:
'Baker, damn you, ze oven is hot. Baker, damn you, what about your
bread? Baker, damn you, I'll put dis dough overboard if you do not
come!' And zees man say to cook: 'You dance,' he say. 'You dance, you
God-damn nigger! You tell your white vife you menshion about just now,
you tell her I make you dance when you go home,' and ze baker
laugh--and zen jump back where ze cook not see him laugh, for he is a
small man with a cough, and ze cook is very large and ugly."
"And did he dance?" asked Mike.
"He try to dance!" Pierre shook his head. "No, not good. He kneel
down, and ze man go away. By and by he look out and he say to me--he
shake his fist at me--he say: 'By God, I report that man to Captain!'
he say. 'You understand?' I say: 'Yes.' He shake his two fist at me
and say again: 'By God, I report that man to Captain!' I say: 'Yes!'"
"You stay down?" asked Mike.
Pierre shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, not nice." He waved a hand in one direction. "But up here," he
waved a hand in the other direction, "not nice." It was Scylla and
Charybdis for Pierre all right.
"Ye're doing all the paylings yerself then now?" asked Mike.
"I beg your par_don_?"
"All alone down there now--you?"
"No. Anozer man come down. Ze cook say to Meestair Rafferty, when he
come past: 'I want anozer man. I give zat ozer man ze sack. He no
good.'----"
"The hell he did!"
"Yes, he do. And Rafferty bring down anozer man."
"Has he got a gun too, do you think?" asked Mike.
"What you say? No, no. Coat and spectacles."
"Do ye mane to tell me," said Mike, disgusted, "that ye would sit on
the one side of a galley door payling spuds, and that sitting forninst
ye on the other?"
This was beyond Pierre, but a sudden stampede behind announced that
grub was being brought aft.
"So long just now," said Mike, and plunged down after the crowd; and
Pierre, who in a menial capacity had helped to prepare this meal, went
down again to the galley door from his airing, to take what food the
cook would have ready for him. He gathered that Mike had some contempt
for his occupation down there, but in so far as the society went, it
was--as he had phrased it--not nice there, not nice here. But the
quality, as well as the quantity, of the food doled out to him in
return for his services at the galley door, was greatly different from
that which was scrimmaged for in the cattlemen's cabin, gristly hash
and a biscuit, and a tin-cupful of soup. Pierre, down there forward,
ate as well as the captain--had mashed potatoes, a little piece of
fish, well cooked Irish stew, a hunk of pie; and, if they had paid no
heed to the fierce expletives volleyed upon them, the two galley slaves
received a cup of coffee later, with: "Here--here's a cup of coffee for
you, you poor devils." Pierre and Four Eyes are not the only people
who have chosen the fleshpots of Egypt on such terms.