Читать книгу The Black Barque - T. Jenkins Hains - Страница 8

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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.