IN THE FO’C’SLE
I will admit my zeal abated a trifle when I met the captain’s gaze, but
I was not much afraid of any man, so up the ladder I went and toward
him.
He saw me approaching and stopped. Then he demanded in a high voice from
Hawkson what I wanted and why I was allowed up the weather side of the
quarter-deck.
“He’s a bit daffy, sir,” said Hawkson, touching his cap. “That crack on
the pate you gave him has turned his burgoo case. He’ll be all right
soon, sir.”
“Daffy or not,” said I, “I want to know what ship I’m in and where she’s
bound,--and I’m going to find out.”
The ugly face of Captain Howard was inscrutable. His glassy eyes like
those of some reptile were fixed upon me. His thin, hooked nose appeared
like the beak of an albatross. He took off his hat and bowed to me
politely, saying:
“It will give me great pleasure to listen to you, sir.” I noticed his
poll was as smooth and hairless as the sole of my foot, only a red seam
that stretched from the crown to his left ear wrinkled its bronzed
roundness.
“Well,” I said, more mildly, “I would like to find out what ship I’m in
and where she’s going.”
“Were you drunk, sir, when you came aboard her?” he asked, calmly.
“I was not,” I answered, warmly.
“Were you blind?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, then, you have permission to look about you, and, if you’re the
sailor you claim to be, you will perceive this is a barque. She is
called the _Gentle Hand_. She is bound for the South Atlantic.”
“But I shipped as mate of her,” I stammered.
“That is manifestly impossible. Mr. Hawkson has been mate of her for
some time. That was probably a little joke of Watkins, the steward.”
Here he threw up his head and burst into a rattling laugh, his mouth
slightly open, but his face otherwise unmoved.
“He, he, he!” he rattled, “you’ll be a mate fast enough,--a gunner’s
mate. And, if that don’t suit you, Mr. Hawkson will introduce you to the
gunner’s daughter. Go forward now and remember that if you come on the
weather side of the quarter-deck while I’m here, I’ll write my name on
you with a hot iron. Do you see? Ho, ho, ho! That Watkins is a tricky
knave and you have my permission to manhandle him. There he is now.
Breakfast--”
As he spoke, the venerable old scoundrel emerged from the door of the
forward cabin, and, standing upon the poop step, announced that the
morning meal was ready. There was little left for me but to get forward.
The “gunner’s daughter” on that ship I knew was the sinister name
applied to the breech of one of the guns, and an introduction consisted
of being held over it with a naked back, while a sailor cut the victim
to ribbons with a cat-o’-nine-tails.
As the old rascal Watkins stood there announcing breakfast, he
recognized me and grinned.
“It isn’t well to laugh early in the morning,” I said, as I went past
him. The captain went below, and I stopped on the last step of the
poop-ladder. “For sometimes it’s rude.” Here I caught him a cuff with
the flat of my hand that sounded all over the deck, knocking him a
couple of fathoms toward the main-hatch. A man to leeward laughed
outright, and even Hawkson chuckled.
The old fellow recovered himself, and his grin was conspicuously absent
as he came toward me in a menacing manner.
“Now you trot along, Noah,” said I. “I’ll give you one like that every
little while until I find that advance money back in my pocket.”
He stopped in front of me, and his mouth worked nervously. His eyes
seemed to disappear under his shaggy brows, and his beard fairly
bristled with rage.
I was a stout man among stout men, and he saw there was little use
speaking out loud. Then he turned and went into the cabin, where Captain
Howard was bawling for him to bring his coffee.
“Better have let the old man alone, Heywood,” said Hawkson. “There’s a
lot of trouble bottled up in his old carcass.”
“Well, I’m uncorking a few of my own,” I said, “and if that second mate
turns out while I have my hands warm, there’ll be some more.”
Hawkson chuckled.
“You’re taking things rather hard, ain’t ye? You’ll be mighty glad they
took ye aboard the old pirate before you’re through.”
“Well,” I said, “you’ve not answered my question, and I’m going to find
out a few things in my own way. Piracy is nonsense these days, though if
there were such things, you’d be in them all right. How did that skipper
get command of this vessel, anyway, and where is she headed for?”
“I told you we were bound for the South Atlantic. Just where, you’ll
find out by the time we get there. We’re to stop at Nassau to take the
owners aboard and then go ahead. That’s all there is to it. Sailing to
the Bahamas and then around the Cape of Good Hope over to where the
owners want to go. That’s plain as mud, ain’t it?”
“How about the pay? Do you suppose I’ll go for nothing?”
“The pay is good, no fear. You won’t lose anything. Why, most of these
fellows here have shipped without knowing any more’n you do, so what’s
the use making trouble for yourself? It’s a regular trading voyage. Just
plain trading in the Atlantic, an’ if we get the best of some trades,
why--so much the better for the owners and all hands. The owners are all
right, sonny, an’ they’ll be here to settle.”
“Well, if you had only told me this,” I answered, “I would probably have
shipped anyhow, though I don’t care about going forrard again.”
“That’s what I was afraid of, an’ the officers’ berths were full. Three
or four o’ the A. B.’s forrards has been mates before. You’ll be all
right as gunner if you leave this after-guard alone. It’s goin’ to take
all your care now to clear Watkins. He’ll kill you the first chance he
gets.”
“Bah!” I said, turning to go.
Hawkson left me and went aft. I hesitated a few moments, looking around
to see if any one on deck had heard our talk, but there was no one near
enough, and those who saw us might have thought the mate was giving me a
reprimand for whanging the old steward. Hawkson would be friendly in a
rough way, and I did not care for all hands to know it. As I was in Mr.
Gull’s watch, I had four hours below before confronting that gentleman,
and I might as well take advantage of them, as my head was very painful.
Taking one more look over the vessel and beyond where sunlight danced
upon the wrinkled blue surface of the ocean, I went to the forecastle
hatch and forthwith below. Here I took possession of a bunk which the
thoughtful owners had cleaned and painted, and, announcing my claim to
the watch who had finished a late breakfast, sat upon its edge and
munched a piece of hard bread.
“I see ye whack the old duffer Watkins,” said the fellow Bill. “What’d
yer hit him for?”
I told him, and looked at Martin to see if he agreed to my accusations
against the old rascal’s honesty. He smoked in silence.
“D’ye know who Watkins is?” asked a big Finn with a long black beard,
“because if you don’t, you’re apt to find out too late.”
“Do you know me?” I asked.
The fellow looked surlily at me.
“Because if you fellows down here don’t, some of you will find out all
of a sudden.”
I had noticed that they had left the mess things lying about, as if
awaiting something, and then I had a grave suspicion that the something
was myself, whom they would delegate to clean up after them. It was just
as well to take the matter in hand at the beginning, and if there was to
be a fracas to see who was to be the boss of that crowd, the earlier the
better.
The big Finn gazed at me, but said nothing, and Bill seemed to size me
up closely.
“Who and what is that old swab, Watkins?” I asked, suddenly turning upon
Bill.
“They say he was mate with Howard when he was a boy. Served thirty years
for a few things they did in the China Seas. Killed more’n forty men.”
“Well,” I answered, “if some one had taken him in hand before he’d
killed the last thirty-nine, he would have a better chance than he has
now for keeping out of the devil’s company. Now you get hold of those
mess things, William, and make the Czar’s cousin here lend a hand. If
you don’t, I’ll make you wish Watkins was here to run this mess when the
watch is called.”
Here I lounged back in my pew, finishing off with a chunk of salt beef
and a cup of cold water. Afterward I lit a pipe and smoked complacently,
while keeping a lookout to see what the crowd would do.
Bill was a fine specimen of the Norwegian sailor, and he surveyed the
mess things contemptuously for a few minutes. Then he seized upon a
stocky little Dane, and bade him carry the things away. The men, having
finished, were talking and smoking, sitting in their pews or upon the
sea-chests the more lucky happened to bring aboard. They saw Bill’s
move, and a murmur of disapproval ran among them. Several pointed at me,
but I smoked in silence, feeling much better for having eaten something,
and recovered my usual strength and spirits. In a few minutes we might
be called on deck, perhaps, to trim sail, but if not, the
after-breakfast smoke would be followed by an arranging of the
forecastle. The little Dane entered a loud protest against his new
duties, but Bill silenced him quickly with an oath.
“You do as I tell yer. I’ll settle with the Yank later,” said he.
“There’s no time like the present,” said I, putting my pipe away and
slowly rising out of my pew. “I’m the high cock of this roost, and when
I give an order below here there needn’t be any settlement called for.
Peel off! Get ready, for I’m coming for you, William.”
The loungers looked up, and Martin chuckled.
“Coom, coom, a fair fight, an’ may the best mon win,” he cried. “Gie us
room, laddies, gie us room. I’ll back the Yank, mon, and, Anderson, ye
knave, ye’ll back yer Scandinavian.”
Bill was not a coward, but he had the blood of a peaceful race in his
veins. He was very strong and able, and he cursed me heartily, while I
calmly pulled off my upper garment. His fierce threats only made me more
determined to put him through, for the more he swore the angrier he
became, telling plainly that the matter was not so greatly to his taste.
As gunner or petty officer of any rank aboard ship, it was absolutely
necessary to make a clear start, in order to avoid disagreements later.
The weaker must be made to act as cook for the mess, and there was no
help for it. It was the rule that had to be established in the same old
way.
Martin drew a line across the deck with a piece of charred wood. I
stepped up to it and placed the toe of my left foot upon it and was
ready. Bill quickly swaggered up, and I landed like lightning upon his
jaw. He staggered back into the arms of Anderson. Then he spit out a
mouthful of blood, and came at me with an oath and a rush.