HIGHER INTELLIGENCE--A VISIT FROM OUT THE SHADOWS
When the steward had gone forward to his bunk, I got a lunch, and was
about to sit down by the dining-table to eat it, when I saw the door of
the Captain's room open wide.
Then, to my utter amazement, I saw the chair that the dead Captain had
sat in for years swing around upon its pivot ready to receive a visitor.
I was so startled by the wonderful unseen force that I forgot my lunch
and was starting to close the door in the hope of another uncanny
experience, when I was halted by a cry from the deck above.
"Hard to starboard, you damned fool. Are you trying to cut her in two
amidship?" shouted the second mate.
"Hard over she is," rang out from the man at the wheel.
Instantly I was on deck. The second mate was over in the lee
mizzen-rigging. "What is it, Olsen?" I asked.
"A full-rigged ship away two points on the starboard bow."
To the man at the wheel I said: "Put your helm down and pass to windward
of him before you jibe the spanker over, or you will knock Hell out of
these old sails." Then to the second mate: "Why do you have to sail all
over the ocean to get by that old pea-soup hulk? Don't you see that he
has the wind free? Luff her up half a point," I ordered the wheel-man.
We passed so close to windward that we took the wind out of his lower
sails. The moon was in the last quarter, and we could see plainly the
watch on her deck, and hear the officer swear at the helmsman, saying:
"Keep her off, you damned sheep-herder, or you will cut that mud-scow in
two." Then he shouted over to me: "It is the captain of an Irish
locomotive you ought to be, you thick-headed pirate, trying to run us
down! What's the name of your ship, anyway?"
"Hardship loaded with Poverty," I replied with sarcasm.
As we passed each other the voice of the angry officer grew fainter and
fainter, then was lost in the stilly night under Southern skies.
I was amused at the expression of the officer on board of the Yankee
clipper, when he spoke of me as the captain of an Irish locomotive.
There could be no greater insult to a self-respecting sailorman than
this phrase. It means that you would do much better carrying a hod or
wheeling a wheelbarrow than handling a ship. I had sailed in those
down-east ships and knew their language. They never intend to give one
inch on land or sea. Hard luck indeed for the sailor who does not know
how to fight, or who shows a yellow streak!
While thus meditating on the cruelties of the old oak ships and thinking
what wonderful tales they could tell, my thoughts were suddenly
interrupted by a consciousness of fear. Something warm was moving about
my feet. On looking down I beheld Toby rubbing his black fur against my
feet and legs....
On getting my position of ship at noon today, I noticed the crew
tiptoeing around as if they were afraid of disturbing some sleeping
baby. I spoke to Riley, asking what all the hush was about.
"Oh, be the Lord, sir, it is getting turrible on this auld graveyard of
a ship. Begorra, we are shure av it now. Auld Charlie seen him prancing
up and down the poop deck wid a poipe in his mouth. 'Tis turrible days
we be having. The cook said that he proved it himself beyond a question
of a doubt that the old bye himself is back on her."
"Well, Riley, I am going to make the Old Man show down tonight. It is
put up or shut up for him." Laughing a little at my own fancies, I went
aft to the Captain's room, and sat down to watch, to continue to
investigate this mystery that was so upsetting the morals of the crew as
to endanger their efficiency.
I left the door to the dining-room half open so that the light hung from
the center of the ceiling threw its sickly rays into the room. I could
hear the man at the wheel make an occasional move with his feet. Then
all would be still again. One bell rang,--half-past twelve.
Suddenly the door slammed with a terrible bang. I knew that there was
no draught in the Captain's room to close it in this manner, and I must
confess that I was considerably startled. Then I was conscious of some
one moving a small stool that stood across from me, over towards the
safe at the foot of the bed. I put out my hands to catch the visitor,
and not finding anything but air, I reached out and pulled the door
open.
To my amazement, the stool had been moved to the safe. I was so unnerved
by this that my one thought was to get away, and I went into the
dining-room, and unconsciously lit my pipe. When my thoughts sorted
themselves it became clear to me that I had been singled out by Destiny
to have the privilege of meeting a great and new and unseen Force. If
this were so great as to be able to move furniture at will, why, thought
I, could it not be harnessed to our material uses? Why could it not be
developed to get sails and discharge cargoes? Surely, it would
revolutionize the forces of the air and earth, as we know them now.
While these thoughts were taking shape in my mind, I was brought up
with a start by hearing three loud and distinct raps on the door of the
Captain's room.
I shook the ashes out of the old corn cob pipe, and entered the room,
closing the door behind me. This time I beheld still greater marvels. At
the head of the Captain's bed appeared a small light, giving forth no
rays, but moving around in the direction of the safe at the foot of the
bunk. There it stopped about a minute, then moved over to the desk and
gradually disappeared.
"Ah," said I, "you are getting too much for me. Move some more furniture
or that safe around this room so that I may alight upon a plan to
harness your great power to hand down to future ages."
At that I must have gone to sleep, for I was conscious of nothing more
until I heard the cook coming aft with coffee. He was anxious to hear my
experience during the middle watch. I told him that there had been no
occurrence that was not natural, but that I might have news for him
soon.
"Steward," said I, "tomorrow is Christmas Day. I want you to prepare a
good dinner for all hands."
"Oh, yes," he replied, "I have had plum pudding boiling since yesterday.
I am going to open a few cans of canned turkey. That, with the cove
oyster soup and canned carrots will make a good dinner. I have had a
little hard luck with my cake. I forgot to put baking powder in it. But
I think that they can get away with it, as there is an abundance of
raisins in it."
Christmas morning at half-past twelve found me waiting in the Captain's
room listening to rappings on the desk. At times these were loud and
then again very weak. I opened the door and turned up the light in the
dining-room so that there might be more brightness in the Captain's
room. I wanted to see and hear whatever vibrations might be caused from
the rappings. As I drew near the writing desk the rapping was centered
on the middle drawer. Then it would move to a smaller drawer on the
right-hand side and tap very hard. With a shout of joy I sprang to the
light at the head of the bed, and lit it.
"At last," I cried, "at last!"
I was satisfied that there were rats in these drawers, and in order that
they should not get away I armed myself with a club. I started to pull
out the smaller drawer very carefully so that the rodent should not make
his escape. To my astonishment I found it locked. I held my ear close to
it, but could not hear a sound. Then I proceeded to open the middle
drawer with the same caution, but found it open, and nothing in it but a
small bunch of keys. My curiosity being aroused, I decided to look for
the key on this ring that would open the smaller drawer. After many
trials I found one that would fit the lock and on opening it I found,
neither the animal, which in spite of my senses' evidence I half
expected to see there, nor any other expected alternative, but, most
surprising of all, a pair of tiny baby-shoes with a lock of yellow hair,
tied with pink ribbon, in each of them.
Back of the shoes was a jewel box, and in it a wedding-ring. Also,
wrapped up in paper, was a will made by our late Captain two days before
his death. This stated that he had an equity in an apartment house in
San Francisco, which he wanted his boys to have. Evidently he had
acquired this equity during his last visit to San Francisco. It also
stated that there should be no delay in forwarding this will to the
above address in West Berkeley, California, U. S. A.
With the discovery of the Captain's treasures, this essence of his
personality so revealed, I was carried out of my skepticism for the
moment, into feeling his presence beside me, waiting for my word as a
friend awaits the voice of a friend. Half unconsciously I spoke aloud:
"You have shown me, and I shall obey. You have only to call upon me. Do
not be anxious for your ship. I will tell your boys."
"A lonely, lonely Christmas," echoed back vaguely, whether from Beyond
or from the storehouse of my imagination, I do not know.
As I replaced his things and started for the deck, the cook's words
echoed and re-echoed in my memory, "Does it end here?"
On deck Old Charlie was steering. Looking over the rail at the log, I
found that she was cutting the distance to Suva at the rate of nine
knots an hour. The breeze was warm, the turquoise sky studded with
diamond stars; the three especially bright ones known as the Sailors'
Yard were shining in all their splendor.
Away to the south the Southern Cross twinkled and glittered, and was so
majestic in its position, that it seemed to command obedience from all
other celestial bodies.