The Funny Philosophers Part 52

Tom did as directed, and in a few moments the porker rapidly ascended and was lashed to the masthead. The Professor then walked to the bow, where was seated Old Nick, telling a wonderful yarn to Tim, who was smoking his pipe.

"On the Gold Coast six months. The n.i.g.g.e.rs brought us gold-dust in quills. One day their duke died."

"Have the negroes dukes among them?" asked Toney.

"Their head-man. They put all his wives and slaves in a pen."

"What for?" asked Tom.

"To knock them on the head and bury them with the duke. Never heard such howling. One n.i.g.g.e.r jumped over the pen, ran down to the sh.o.r.e, and swam to the s.h.i.+p. They came around in canoes after him. Captain told me to throw him overboard. Had to obey orders. They took him ash.o.r.e and knocked him on the head with clubs. Next night I was on the beach.

Something jumped right up before me and grinned in my face. Looked like the big n.i.g.g.e.r I had pitched overboard."

"I thought they had knocked him on the head," said Toney.

"His ghost. It gave a whoop and jumped clean over my head, and then jumped back again."

"Like a circus-rider," said Tom.

"Kept jumping back and forth over my head, whooping and grinning. I got mad, and struck at it with a stick. Jerked stick from my hand and beat me over the back with it. I grabbed at the tarnal ghost, and if I could have got a grip on it I'd downed it. Couldn't hold it; got scared."

"No wonder," said Toney. "Any man would have been scared with this great ugly bugaboo whooping and yelling, and jumping backward and forward over his head, and beating him with his own cane."

"Ran for the boat. Ghost followed me. Priest had come ash.o.r.e in the boat with a bottle of holy water in his pocket. He flung it in the critter's face, when it gave a whoop and vamosed."

"You infernal thieves!" said the cook, coming forward with a large butcher's knife in his hand and confronting the sailors, "what have you done with my hog?"

"Didn't touch your hog," said Old Nick.

"Don't be lying there," said the ireful cook. "You have stolen that hog and hid it in the forecastle. Not a taste of lobscouse will you lubbers get until you give up my hog. I'll cut off your rations, you blasted rogues! I'd like to see one of you get any duff for his dinner on Sundays, after this."

The sailors were alarmed, for the cook is the great man on s.h.i.+pboard.

They humbly protested their innocence, but were sternly denounced as liars and thieves who had stolen the porker, intended for the pa.s.sengers' dinner, and hidden it in the forecastle. As the cook was brandis.h.i.+ng his knife, and growing more violent in his denunciations, he was startled by hearing loud squeals overhead. The sounds were like the shrill cries of a large hog which was having a knife plunged into his throat.

"Great thunder!" exclaimed Tom.

The cook and the sailors gazed upward with looks of amazement.

There was a reiteration of loud squeals. The cook dropped his knife and ran into his galley. The sailors fled with precipitation, until they reached the quarter-deck. Tom Seddon stood gazing upward, while Toney whispered to the Professor.

"Yes," said the Professor, "a faculty occasionally exercised. It must be a profound secret."

"Shall I tell Tom?"

"Whisper it to him, and warn him to be reticent."

Toney whispered to Tom, who nodded his head and seemed to comprehend.

"You lying lubbers!" said the mate, coming forward, followed by the sailors. "Telling your yarns about a hog in the----"

Here there was a succession of loud squeals from the masthead. The hog seemed to be in great agony. The sailors fled to the stern, and the mate rushed into the captain's cabin. The captain came forward. The squeals were louder and more prolonged. The mate trembled and turned pale.

"What is it?" said the captain.

"The cook killed a hog and hung it alongside his galley, and the devil has carried it up there!" said the mate, pointing to the masthead.

"The devil is in the habit of getting into hogs," said Toney.

"He once got into a whole herd of swine," said Tom.

"There is Scripture for that," said the mate.

"I must have that hog down," said the captain.

"Here--Nick--Tim--Peter--Paul! up to the masthead and lower the hog!"

Not a man would stir. The crew loudly swore that they would not go up there for any captain that ever trod a quarter-deck.

"You go up," said the captain to the mate.

"Nary time," said the mate. "My business is to navigate the s.h.i.+p,--not to fight the devil. You go up."

The captain laid hold on a rope, and was about to ascend, when loud squeals were heard, and cries of "Murder! murder! murder!" from the masthead. The captain let go his hold and fell on the deck.

"There are more than a dozen devils up there!" shouted the mate.

"What's to be done?" said the captain, rising on his feet and looking aghast.

"Let them alone until we get into port, and then hire a lot of priests to sprinkle the s.h.i.+p with holy water," said the mate.

"I'll have her swabbed with barrels of holy water!" exclaimed the captain.

"Thank G.o.d, it is daylight," said the mate.

It was now morning, and the s.h.i.+p sailed on, and was soon abreast of the castle of Santa Cruz.

"American s.h.i.+p ahoy!" was shouted through a trumpet from the ramparts.

"h.e.l.lo!" was the response from the deck.

"How many days did you come from?"

"Baltimore--forty-two."

"All right!" And the vessel glided along, and, pa.s.sing the Sugar-Loaf, soon anch.o.r.ed in the s.p.a.cious and beautiful harbor of the Brazilian metropolis, with the hog at her masthead.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.