There was, in Dan'l Tobey's boat, a little man named Mauger. It was he
whom Dan'l ruled by a superior tongue, deriding the man and scorching
him with jests that made Mauger crimson with shame for himself. Mauger
was a greenie; he was a product of the worst conditions of the city. He
was little and shrunken and thin, and his shoulders curled forward as
though to hug and shelter his weak chest. Nevertheless, there was a
rat-like spirit in the man, and a rat-like gleam in his black little
eyes. He was one of those men who inspire dislike, even when they strive
to win the liking of their fellows. The very fo'c's'le baited him.
It was through Mauger that the first open clash between Cap'n Wing and
Faith, his wife, was brought to pass; and the thing happened in this
wise.
Dan'l Tobey knew how to handle Mauger; and he kept the little man in a
continual ferment of helpless anger. When they were off in the boats
after a whale, or merely for the sake of boat drill, Dan'l gave all his
attention to Mauger, who rowed tub oar in Dan'l's boat.
"Now if you'll not mind, Mauger," he would say, "just put your strength
into the stroke there. Just a trifle of it. Gently, you understand, for
we must not break the oars. But lean to it, Mauger. Lean to it, little
man."
And Mauger strove till the veins stood out upon his narrow forehead, and
his black little eyes gleamed.... And within him boiled and boiled a
vast revolt, a hatred of Dan'l. Again and again, he was on the point of
an open outbreak; he cursed between his teeth, and slavered, and thought
of the bliss of sinking his nails in Dan'l's smooth throat.... The wrath
in the man gathered like a tempest....
But always Dan'l pricked the bubble of this wrath with some sly word
that left Mauger helpless and bewildered....
He set the man to scrub the decks, amidships, one day after an eighty
barrel bull whale had been tried out. There were other men at work,
scrubbing; but Dan'l gave all his attention to Mauger. He leaned against
the rail, and smiled cheerfully at the little man, and spoke
caustically....
"--not used to the scrub brush, Mauger. That's plain to see. But you'll
learn its little ways.... Give you time...."
And.... "Lend a little weight to it on the thrust, little man. Put your
pith into it...."
And.... "Here's a spot, here by my foot, that needs attention....
Come.... No, yonder.... No, beyond that again.... So...."
Or.... "See, now, how the Portugee there scrubs...." And when Mauger
looked toward the Portugee, Dan'l rasped: "Come.... Don't be looking up
from your tasks, little man. Attention, there...."
This continued until Mauger, fretted and tormented and wild with the
fury of a helpless thing, was minded to rise and fling himself at
Dan'l's round, freckled face.... And in that final moment before the
outbreak must surely have come, Dan'l said pleasantly:
"So.... That is nicely. Go below now, Mauger, and rest. Ye've worked
well...."
And the kindliness of his tone robbed Mauger of all wrath, so that the
little man crept forward, and down to his bunk, and fairly sobbed there
with rage, and nerves, and general bewilderment.
Dan'l was the man's master, fair....
This was one side of the matter; Cap'n Noll Wing was on the other side.
Noll Wing had been harassed by the difficulties of the early weeks of
the cruise. It seemed to the man that the whole world combined to
torment him. He was, for one thing, a compound of rasping nerves; the
slightest mishap on the _Sally Sims_ preyed on his mind; the least
slackness on the part of the mates, the least error by the men sent him
into a futile storm of anger....
Even toward Faith, he blew hot, blew cold.... There were times when he
felt the steadfast love she gave him was like a burden hung about his
neck; and he wished he might cast it off, and wished he had never
married her, and wished ... a thousand things. These were the days when
the old strength of the man reasserted itself, when he held his head
high, and would have defied the world.... But there were other hours,
when he was spiritually bowed by the burdens of his task; and in these
hours it seemed to him Faith was his only reliance, his only support.
He leaned upon her as a man leans upon a staff. She was now a nagging
burden, now a peaceful haven of rest to which he could retreat from all
the world....
If he felt thus toward Faith, whom, in his way, the man did love, how
much more unstable was his attitude toward the men about him. In his
relations with them, he alternated between storming anger and querulous
complaint. Once, when they were hauling up to the mainhead a blanket
strip of blubber from a small cow whale, the tackle gave and let the
whole strip snap down like a smothering blanket of rubber.... The old
Noll Wing would have leaped into the resulting tangle and brought order
out of it with half a dozen sharp commands, with a curt blow.... This
time, he stood aft by the boat house and nagged at the mate, and cried:
"Mr. Ham, will you please get that mess straightened out? In God's name,
why can't you men do things the right way? You...." He flung up his
hands like a hysterical woman. "By God, I wish I'd stayed ashore...."
And he turned and went aft and sulkily down into the cabin, to fret at
Faith, while Mr. Ham and Dan'l Tobey brought order out of chaos, and
Dan'l smiled faintly at his own thoughts.
Now it is a truth which every soldier knows, that a commanding officer
must command. When he begins to entreat, or to scold like a woman, or to
give any other indication of cracking nerves, the men under him conspire
maliciously to torment him, in the hope of provoking new outbreaks. It
is instinctive with them; they do it as naturally as small boys torment
a helpless dog. And it was so on the _Sally Sims_. The more frequently
Noll Wing forgot that he was master, the more persistently the men
harassed him.
His officers saw the change in Noll, and tried to hide it or deny it as
their natures prompted. The mate, Mr. Ham, developed an unsuspected
loyalty, covering his chief's errors by his own strength; and young
Willis Cox backed him nobly. Dan'l Tobey, likewise, was always quick to
take hold of matters when they slipped from the captain's fingers; but
he did it a little ostentatiously.... Noll himself did not perceive this
ostentation; but the men saw, and understood. It was as though Dan'l
whispered over his shoulder to them:
"See! The old man's failing. I have to handle you for him...."
Once or twice Dan'l bungled some task in a fashion that provoked these
outbreaks; and whether or not this was mere chance, Faith was always
about on these occasions. For example, at dinner one day in the cabin,
Dan'l looked mournfully at the salt beef that was set before him, and
then began to eat it with such a look of resignation on his countenance
that Noll demanded: "What's wrong with the beef, Mr. Tobey?"
Dan'l said pleasantly: "Nothing, sir. Nothing at all. It's very good
fare, and almighty well cooked, I'd say."
Now it was not well cooked. Tinch, the cook, had been hurried, or
careless.... The junk he had brought down to the cabin was half raw, a
nauseous mass.... And Dan'l knew it, and so did Noll Wing. But Noll
might have taken no notice but for Dan'l, and Dan'l's tone....
As it was, he was forced to take notice. And so he bellowed for Tinch,
and when the cook came running, Noll lifted the platter and flung it,
with its greasy contents, at the man's head, roaring profanely....
Faith was at the table; she said nothing. But when Noll looked at her,
and saw the disappointment in her eyes--disappointment in him--he wished
to justify himself; and so complained: "Damned shame.... A man can't get
decent food out of that rascal.... If I wasn't a fool, Faith, I'd have
stayed ashore...."
Faith thought she would have respected him more if, having given way to
his anger, he had stuck to his guns, instead of seeking thus weakly to
placate her. And Dan'l Tobey watched Faith, and was well content with
himself.
It was Dan'l, in the end, who brought Mauger and Cap'n Wing together;
and if matters went beyond what he had intended, that was because chance
favored him.
It was a day when Mauger took a turn at the awkward steering apparatus
of the _Sally Sims_. The _Sally's_ wheel was so arranged that when it
was twirled, it moved to and fro across the deck, dragging the tiller
with it. To steer was a trick that required learning; and in any sea,
the tiller bucked, and the wheel fought the steersman in eccentric and
amazing fashion. This antiquated arrangement was one of the curses of
many ships of the whaling fleet.... Mauger had never been able to get
the trick of it....
Dan'l's watch came on deck and Mauger took the wheel at a moment when
Cap'n Wing was below. Faith was with him. Dan'l knew the captain would
be entering the log, writing up his records of the cruise, reading....
He also knew that if Noll Wing followed his custom, he would presently
come on deck. And he knew--he himself had had a hand in this--that Noll
had been drinking, that day, more than usual.
That Faith came up with Noll, a little later, was chance; no more. Dan'l
had not counted on it.
Mauger, then, was at the wheel. Dan'l leaned against the deckhouse
behind Mauger, and devoted himself amicably to the task of instructing
the man. His tone remained, throughout, even and calm; but there was a
bite in it which seared the very skin of Mauger's back.
"You'll understand," said Dan'l cheerfully, "you are not rolling a hoop
in your home gutter, Mauger. You're too impetuous in your ways.... Be
gentle with her...."
This when, the _Sally Sims_ having fallen off her set course, Mauger
brought her so far up into the wind that her sails flapped on the yards.
Dan'l chided him.
"Not so strenuous, Mauger. A little turn, a spoke or two.... You
overswing your mark, little man. Stick her nose into it, and keep it
there...."
The worst of it was, from Mauger's point of view, that he was trying
quite desperately to hold the _Sally's_ blunt bows where they belonged.
But there was a sea; the rollers pounded her high sides with an
overwhelming impact, and the awkward wheel put a constant strain on his
none-too-adequate arms and shoulders. When the _Sally_ swung off, and he
fought her back to her course, she was sure to swing too far the other
way; when he tried to ease her up to it, a following sea was sure to
catch him and thrust him still farther off the way he should go....
He fought the wheel as though it were a live thing, and the sweat burst
out on him, and his arms and shoulders ached; and all the time, Dan'l at
his back flogged him with gentle jeers, and seared him with caustic
words....
The rat-like little man had the temper of a rat. Dan'l knew this; he was
careful never to push Mauger too far. So, this afternoon, he brought the
man, little by little, to the boiling point, and held him there as
delicately in the balance as a chemist's scales.... With a word, he
might at any time have driven Mauger mad with fury; with a word he could
have reduced the helpless little man to smothering sobs.
He had Mauger thus trembling and wild when Noll Wing came on deck, Faith
at his side. Dan'l looked at them shrewdly; he saw that Noll's face was
flushed, and that Noll's eyes were hot and angry. And--behind the back
of Mauger at the wheel--he nodded toward the little man, and caught
Noll's eyes, and raised his shoulders hopelessly, smiling.... It was as
if he said:
"See what a hash the little man is making of his simple job. Is he not a
hopeless thing?"
Noll caught Dan'l's glance; and while Mauger still quivered with the
memory of Dan'l's last word, Noll looked at the compass, and cuffed
Mauger on the ear and growled at him:
"Get her on her course, you gutter dog...."
Which was just enough to fill to overflowing Mauger's cup of wrath. The
little man abandoned the wheel.... Dan'l caught it before the _Sally_
could fall away ... and Mauger sprang headlong, face black with wrath,
at Cap'n Wing.
He was scarce a third Noll's size; but the fury of his attack was such
that for a moment Noll was staggered. Then the captain's fist swung
home, and the little man whirled in the air, and fell crushingly on head
and right shoulder, and rolled on the slanting deck like a bundle of
soiled old clothes.... Rolled and lay still....
Cap'n Noll Wing, big Noll, whom Faith loved, bellowed and leaped after
the little man. He was red with fury that Mauger had attacked him, red
with rage that Mauger had, for an instant, thrust him back. He swung his
heavy boot and drove it square into the face of the unconscious man.
Faith saw....
The toe of the captain's boot struck Mauger in the right eye-socket, as
he lay on his side. At the blow, for an instant, the man's eye literally
splashed out, bulging, on his temple....
Some women would have screamed; some would have flung themselves upon
Noll to drag him back. Faith did neither of these things. She stood for
an instant, her lips white.... Her sorrow and pity were not for Mauger,
who had suffered the blow.... They were for Noll, her Noll, her husband
whom she loved and wished to respect.... Sorrow and pity for Noll, who
had done this thing....
She turned quickly and went down into her cabin....
Noll came down, minutes later, after she had heard the feet of running
men, the voices of men upon the deck. He came down, found her in the
cabin which served as his office. She was standing, looking out one of
the windows in the stern....