Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship Part 29

Trunnell was too angry to pay attention to this remark, so he looked sourly on while the carpenter cut off the rivets holding the lock.

"There ye are," he said, and we crowded around to look in while the mate raised the lid.

Off it came easily enough. We stood perfectly silent for an instant. Then all except Trunnell burst out laughing. The trunk was empty!

"Well, sink me down deep, but that ware the heaviest air I ever see,"

said Trunnell. Then he picked up a slip of paper in the bottom and looked at it a moment. It had writing on it, and he unfolded it to read. I looked over his shoulder and read aloud:--

"MY DEAR LITTLE MATE: When you get this here billee ducks, don't do anything rash. Remember the discipline of the s.h.i.+p, first of all, and then take the dollar bill here and get somebody to cut your hair fer ye, as it's too loing fer a man of sense and is disagreeable to the ladies.

If ye thought ye had a pot of gold in this here outfit, ye get left, sure, and no mistake. Remember money's the root of all evil and thank yer Lord ye ain't got none. There ain't no answer to this note; but if ye feel like writing at enny time, address it to Bill Jackwell, care of anybody at all what happens to be around at the time I'm there--see?

Some day we'll meet agin, fer I'm stuck on the sea and am going to buy a boat and appoint ye as captain, only yer must cut yer hair and trim up yer beard some. That's all."

Trunnell held the dollar bill he had unfurled from the note in his hand and dropped the note back into the trunk.

"'Tis screwed fast wid nine big bolts to th' deck," said Chips, who had examined the outfit carefully.

Trunnell scratched his bushy head thoughtfully for a moment longer. "Is there any sech thing as a few men aboard this s.h.i.+p?" he asked.

I said I thought there was.

"Then man the boat and row, for the love o' G.o.d!" he roared, springing up the companionway to the deck, leaving us to follow after him.

XXIV

When we reached the deck and looked after the brig, we found that we had spent more time below than at first imagined. The _Shark_ was hull down to the southward and evidently going along steadily at a three-knot rate.

The sun was almost on the horizon, and if we started after her, the chances were that night would fall long before we could lessen the distance between us materially. Sober appreciation of the affair took the place of Trunnell's impetuosity.

"We'll niver see him agin," said Chips, hauling heavily on the boat tackles.

"There's no use, Trunnell," I cried; "we can't catch that brig in a whale-boat."

He was already hesitating, and stood scratching his s.h.a.ggy beard.

"Avast heavin' on that tackle," he bawled. Then he turned to me. "You're right, Rolling, we've lost a fortune an' the rascal too, but it ain't no use making bigger fools of ourselves. Stow the boat. After that send Johnson aft to me with a pair o' scissors. You an' Tom can set the watches, fer ye see I'm capting of her now. Ye might say, on the side like, that the first burgoo eater what comes along the weather side o'

the p.o.o.p while I'm on deck will go over the rail. There's a-goin' to be some discipline aboard the hooker, or I'll--well, there ain't no tellin'

just what I won't do. I'm capting o' this here s.h.i.+p, an' ye might jest as well muster the men aft to hear the news."

Then he disappeared down the companion aft, and I sent Johnson to him with the shears as he had ordered.

When Trunnell came on deck again in the evening, his beard was a sight to be remembered. It looked as though a rat had nibbled it in spots. His hair was equally well done by the artist, but Jackwell's last order had been obeyed. The men were mustered aft, and Trunnell announced that he was the man they wanted to stand from under. They remained silent until Johnson suggested that three cheers be given for the new skipper. Then all hands bawled themselves hoa.r.s.e. That was all. I was now the first mate and took my meals at the cabin table, where Jennie and her mother had been wondering at Trunnell's dexterity with his knife. The little mate appeared to realize that a certain amount of dignity and dress were necessary for the maintenance of correct discipline aboard, and he accordingly changed his s.h.i.+rt once a week and wore a new coat of blue pilot cloth. He sat at the head of the table, and went through his knife-juggling each meal, to the never ending amus.e.m.e.nt of Jennie, and admiration of Gunning, who swore that, "dey ain't no man afloat cud do dat no better." He, however, came through the rest of the cruise without even cutting his lip.

My duties and rating being those of a first mate, I had no longer the pleasure of being intimate with Chips and the rest forward. The carpenter, steward, and "doctor" had the quartermaster, Tom, from Trunnell's watch for a second mate and companion at the second table. Tom was a Yankee and a good companion, so the change was satisfactory all around. I sometimes looked in at the carpenter's room in the forward house, where he and a few chosen spirits would be holding forth upon some nautical subject, but I had to cut my visits short, for they worried Trunnell. Being suddenly raised did not quite inspire the necessary respect in his eyes, unless the person promoted showed unmistakable dignity and authority by dressing down all who came in contact with him.

For some time it was pretty hard to speak to our little skipper. He disliked anything he imagined might tend to lessen the discipline aboard and had a horror of a mate or captain being familiar with the men.

My room was still in the forward cabin, but I now spent much time in the saloon, and helped Trunnell to s.h.i.+ft his belongings aft to Jackwell's cabin. The truculent knave had left little behind him save a lot of old clothes, bonds which were not negotiable, and some wrappers used by the bank of Melbourne for doing up packets of bills. Upon one of these was a mark of fifty pounds sterling, showing that Jackwell's a.s.sets, unless enormous, could be made to fit in a very small s.p.a.ce. He probably carried all he owned upon his person.

We went through everything in the cabin carefully, but the only thing of interest discovered was the photograph of a plump young woman torn fairly in two, the lower half bearing the inscription in Jackwell's handwriting, "Good riddance to bad rubbish."

I had found this in the chart case and had examined it some minutes without comment, when Miss Sackett took it from me. She gazed at it a moment, and cried out, "Why! it's the third mate."

I instantly seized it again and looked carefully at the features, and then it was plain enough. There he was, in a neat fitting bodice, the curly blond hair stylishly dressed, and the plump cheeks showing just the faintest trace of the dimples of our former third officer. I looked at the back of the photograph. It had the name of a Melbourne artist upon it, and beneath, in a female hand, the written words, "Yours lovingly, Belle."

Trunnell heard Jennie's exclamation and came up. He took the picture from me and gazed long at the face. Then he gave a sigh which sounded like a blackfish drawing in air, handed it back to me, and went up the companionway, scratching his head in the manner he did when much disturbed. He said not a word, nor did he mention Mr. Bell's name, and that night at supper he never raised his eyes from his plate. Afterward in the mid-watch he came on the p.o.o.p and walked fore and aft for three long hours without so much as speaking to me or asking the man at the wheel the vessel's course. He finally went below, carrying the odor of grog along with him. He came on deck many nights after this and walked fore and aft in silence, as though brooding over some unpleasant subject, and we were clear of the trade and knocking about in the uncertain lat.i.tudes before he appeared to be anything like himself again.

I avoided any subject relating to the earlier part of the voyage and tried to cheer him. I thought he had suffered keenly, and was glad when he stopped drinking and looked me in the eyes without letting his gaze fall in confusion. Sometimes I caught myself wondering at the reticence of the men who had rowed him to the burnt wreck that night, but I found that no one had boarded her except Trunnell and he had sent the boat astern.

Tom, the quartermaster, made mate under me, was a good sailor. He did his work thoroughly, and everything went along without friction throughout the rest of the voyage to the Breakwater. We picked up the northeast trade in a few days, and hauled our starboard tacks aboard, bracing the yards sharp up until it gradually swung more and more to the eastward, letting us off on a taut bowline for the lat.i.tude of the States.

The _Pirate_ showed herself to be the fast s.h.i.+p she had always been, for we made the run up the trade in less than three weeks. Trunnell took such pride in her that all hands were tired out before we ran over the thirtieth parallel, with the scrubbing, painting, holy-stoning, etc., that he considered necessary to have her undergo before arriving in port.

As mate of the s.h.i.+p, I had much opportunity to command the deck alone; that is, without the supervision of any one. Of course, I can't say I spent much time alone on deck, even when in charge; but I would never let social matters interfere with work sufficiently to merit a rebuke from the little skipper. He soon manifested a disposition to be alone during his watch on deck, and at first I believed this to be due to the exalted dignity of his position. It hurt me to think he should be so changed, and I pondered at the peculiarities of mankind for many days. After awhile, however, he became absorbed in a game of checkers with Mrs. Sackett which lasted two weeks. Then I forgave him. Whenever he saw Jennie and myself on deck, he would make haste to get through his business there, and dive below again. This kindly interest on his part was kept up until we raised the Delaware Capes.

How good the land smelled, and how distinctly. It seemed incredible that one could smell the land twenty miles away, almost before the color of the water began to change. Yet it was strong in the nostrils; and even one of the pigs we had not eaten, but had brought back alive, squealed incessantly, as though instinctively feeling that the voyage was over.

It was late in the afternoon, but the men were mustered aft, in the time-worn way of merchant-men, to sign off. Nearly all had bills on the slop-chest for tobacco or clothes. As each went over the p.o.o.p he gazed at the line on the western horizon and smiled gladly. It meant a new life for more than one. Among the last to go was the old landsman whom Trunnell had given a chance to earn his clothes by bug-hunting. He smiled sadly at the setting sun over the dark line which meant home. Then he shook out several strings of vermin, and holding them at arm's length, stopped at the cabin window. His cheap trousers failed to reach the tops of his coa.r.s.e shoes, and the gap showed the skin on meagre ankles. I was interested to know what he would take.

"What d'ye want?" asked Trunnell.

"I come for a yaller silk ban'kercheef," said he, offering the strings.

"Don't yer think ye'd better get some o' them woollens? It'll be cold on the beach."

"I got clothes a plenty. I want a yaller silk ban'kercheef. Yer got one, for Sam tole me so. I'm a-goin' ash.o.r.e to Hennery's, an' I ain't goin'

like no clown without a wipe. Kin I have it?"

The handkerchief was pa.s.sed out, and the old fellow went forward smiling.

What a strange thing is the end of a deep-water voyage! Men who have been living together for months through suffering and hards.h.i.+p will go over the s.h.i.+p's side with a cheery farewell. They may meet for a few moments at the office to draw their pay, and then take a drink all around. That is all. They seldom see or hear of each other again. The world goes on, and they drift about, taking what part in affairs Fate has in store for them. One should come back aboard the s.h.i.+p the day after she makes her dock and look into the deserted forecastle and about the lonely decks, where so much has taken place, to realize man's lonely mission. The old s.h.i.+p-keeper, sitting alone smoking on the hatchway in the evening before unloading begins, will affront one with his presence. Where are the men, rough, honest, coa.r.s.e, or even bad, that used to sit there so often in the twilight of the dog-watch? There is a strange yearning to see them again. I watched the sun go down with a feeling of mingled joy and sorrow,--joy for the return to the States, and sorrow for the parting which must soon take place between my s.h.i.+pmates.

When we came to an anchor and made ready to go ash.o.r.e, the little giant Trunnell came up to say good-by to the ladies. I had decided to accompany them to the city.

When he shook hands, the tears ran down out of his little eyes and trickled over his bushy beard to the deck.

"I wishes ye all the best o' luck," said he, and he fumbled in his pocket for a moment, letting a small piece of paper escape and flutter to the deck. I stooped and picked it up, glancing at the writing on it. The words were:--

Mrs. William Sackett, 25 Prince St., E.C., London, Eng.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed it from me and seized my hand, gripping it so hard I almost cried out.

"Go along, ye lucky dog," he cried. "Say good-by to Chips an' the rest afore ye goes ash.o.r.e. We'll be berthed an' paid off when ye comes back."

I said good-by to the men at the gangway, and then helped the ladies over the side into the boat, seating myself in the stern-sheets between them.

"I should think you'd be thankful to get in at last," said Jennie.

"Yes," I whispered; "but I have no objections to sailing again as a mate."