Ralph Granger's Fortunes Part 18

"I shall certainly see enough of the world," thought he, "and I shall leave that miserable feud far, far behind."

With the anchor a-trip, the men waited for the final signal. As a light westerly puff swelled the mainsail, which was drawn flat, Mr.

Duff uttered a low "Now then," that was repeated loudly by the boatswain, who acted also as a sort of sailing master.

"Yo ho, ho! Heave 'er up, hearties!"

The capstan was again manned, and as the schooner fell off before the wind, Ralph, leaning over the forward bulwarks, saw the great anchor hang dripping under the bow. Later on it would be stowed on deck.

And now the three jibs were hoisted one after another, then the topsails, and finally, as the breeze was light, a triangular staysail was run well up to the weather side between the masts.

Under the influence of the wind and tide the Curlew spun along at an eight knot gait, trailing a glistening wake behind and with a briny hissing along the side as the smooth hull cut the rippling water.

Presently the north point of the inlet was abreast, and Ralph began to notice a slow rocking motion which, as the vessel rose upon the swells, made him feel as if the deck were sinking beneath his feet. At first it was a pleasant sensation, and he leaned over the side, enjoying the starlit view, the moist, balmy air and the gentle motion.

Tybee was now well astern. On either hand the sh.o.r.e line was receding while in front came a low, irregular roaring.

Ralph walked back to where Mr. Duff was standing at the binnacle, conning the s.h.i.+p. There was no pilot aboard, as for some reason, Captain Gary did not wish the time of his departure publicly known.

"What is that noise we hear ahead Mr. Duff?" asked the lad, whereat the sailor at the wheel snickered, while the mate allowed himself to smile.

"That's the surf on the bar," said he. "What did you suppose it might be?"

"I 'lowed it might be thunder, only I didn't see any clouds."

At this Mr. Duff laughed outright, and the sailors nudged each other as if highly tickled. Ralph looked from one to another, and his pulse beat fast.

"If I had you folks up in our mountains," said he, "mebbe I could show you a thing or two that would puzzle you. I know I'm green, but I'm not too green to learn."

"You'll do," replied the mate shortly, as the boy turned away.

A little later as he was standing by the after hatch, a hand was laid on his arm.

"Ralph," said the second mate, for it was he, "let me give you a bit of advice. No matter what is said or done to you, take it and go along.

Hard words mend no bones. I'm giving you straight goods, my lad. You seem to have the right kind of stuff in you, and all you need is to be kept in line."

"Mr. Bludson said something of the sort, I think. All right, sir.

I'll keep my mind on that, and I'm obliged to you."

But after the mate had returned to the binnacle Ralph was conscious of a fall in his spirits. Ocean life might be glorious after a while, but at present he was apparently under everybody; he knew less than anybody, and--suddenly he threw his hand to his head.

The roar of the breakers was close at hand now, and as the Curlew began to roll and pitch in quite a p.r.o.nounced manner, the boy would have been alarmed but for the overmastering wretchedness of his feelings. His whole internal system seemed to be turning upside down.

"It must be!" he groaned, staggering to the side. "I--I'm--sea--sick.

Oh--oh--oh--Lordy!"

CHAPTER XIII.

A Taste of s.h.i.+p's Discipline.

For an hour or more pa.s.sing events were as naught to Ralph. Too ill to sling his hammock, he finally crawled under one of the small boats on the main deck, and at last fell asleep.

The next thing he was conscious of was a terrible chill, a sensation of drowning, and gasping for breath. As he woke he heard a gruff voice say:

"If that don't fetch him nothin' won't."

As Ralph opened his eyes, several seamen were standing about, laughing, one of whom held a half emptied bucket of water.

The boy's head ached and he was thoroughly drenched and miserable.

"Up you get!" said Long Tom, pausing in his walk to and fro in the waist of the schooner, "Time you were gettin' breakfast on the cabin table. Cap'n always raises thunder when breakfast is late."

Ralph, on rising to his feet, nearly pitched down again, being brought up with a round turn in the lee scuppers.

"Easy now, and get 'e sea legs on," suggested Bludson, who was balancing himself dexterously in his walk.

The wind had stiffened, and a crisp plain of dancing white caps met Ralph's gaze as he steadied himself by the bulwarks. The Curlew, under a single reefed fore and mainsail and a single jib, was gracefully rising and falling to the rhythmic motion of long and ponderous waves.

The unaccustomed roll bewildered the lad from the mountains, the singing of the wind through the shrouds buzzed strangely in his ears.

He made a dive for the cook's galley, where Neb was dis.h.i.+ng up the cabin meal.

"Mind yo' steps, now," the negro cautioned him, as Ralph, with a waiter full of dishes, started for the companionway.

The boy, though wet and s.h.i.+vering, determined to do his duty, come what might. By the a.s.sistance of Long Tom, who seized him by the collar and propelled him roughly but safely across the deck, he managed to reach the cabin.

He got the table arranged somehow, placing the dishes in the rough weather racks provided, then after was.h.i.+ng his face, he made his way back to the galley and started with another waiter full of eatables.

This time something had drawn Long Tom away. Ralph did very well until he came to the open s.p.a.ce between one of the boats and the mainmast. A rope really should have been stretched amid deck for his aid, but as others did not need it, no one thought or cared for the cabin boy.

Just as Ralph made a dive for the mast and the afterhatch beyond, the captain emerged from the companionway. The boy reached the mast in safety. Encouraged by this, he loosened his hold and started boldly for the head of the stairs.

Unfortunately the stern of the Curlew sank suddenly under the influence of a receding wave of unusual proportions. Ralph and his waiter of dishes were thrown violently forward against Captain Gary, who stood like a rock, while the boy pitched one way and his dishes went another.

All who saw the catastrophe looked on with suspended breath.

The captain glared at Ralph as the lad picked himself up, then pointed to the wreck of his breakfast.

"Clean up that rubbish," he growled, a grimness as of death settling over his face.

Two sailors sprang forward with bucket and mop. The captain turned to Ralph, who could now trace little resemblance in his superior's face and mien to the bland, almost fatherly man who had welcomed him at the Marshall House.

"My lad," said Gary, and his voice grated harshly on the ear, "I don't think the deck agrees with you. Suppose you try the fo'mast head for an hour. Come! Up you go!"

In his bewilderment Ralph attempted to mount the mainmast ratlines in a lumbering way.

"Start him up, Long Tom," roared the captain. "The fool don't even know where the fo'mast is."