"Where Angels Fear to Tread" and Other Stories of the Sea Part 22

With luff-tackles on the fall they hove the stern up until the cabin doors and all deck-openings but the main-hatch were out of water, and then, with the bark hanging to the sheers as a swinging-cradle hangs from its supports, some a.s.sisted the carpenter and his mates in building up and calking an upward extension of the main-hatch coaming that reached above water at high tide, while others went over the side looking for the shot-holes of eight broadsides. These, when found, were covered with planking, followed by canvas, nails being driven with shackles, sounding-leads, and stones from the bottom in the hands of naked men clinging to weighted stagings--men whose eyes protruded, whose lungs ached, whose brains were turning.

Then, and before a final inspection by the boatswain in the diving-suit a.s.sured them that the last shot-hole was covered, they began bailing from the main-hatch, and when the water perceptibly lowered--the first index of success--a feverish yell arose and continued, while nude lunatics wrestled and floundered waist-deep on the flooded deck. The bark's pumps were manned and worked under water, bailing-pumps--square tubes with one valve--were made and plunged up and down in each hatch, whips were rigged, and buckets rose and fell until the obstructing cargo confined the work to the bark's pumps. Can-hooks replaced the buckets on the whips, then boxes and barrels were hoisted, broken into, and thrown overboard, until the surface of the bay was dotted with them. They drifted back and forth with the tide, some stranding on the beach, others floating seaward through the inlet. And all the time that they worked, sharp eyes had watched through the bushes, and a few miles inland, in a glade surrounded by the giant trees of the Brazilian forest, red-s.h.i.+rted men lolled and smoked and grew fat, while they discussed around the central fire the qualities of barbecued wild oxen, roast opossum and venison, and criticized the seamans.h.i.+p of the Englishmen.

With a clear deck to work on, every man and boy of the brig's crew, except the idlers (stewards, cooks, and servants), was requisitioned, and boxes flew merrily; but night closed down on the tenth day of their labor without sign of the treasure, and now Mr. Todd, who had noticed a shade of testiness in the queries of the officers as to the exact location of the gold and diamonds, expressed a desire to climb the rigging next afternoon, a feat he had often wished to perform, which he did clumsily, going through the lubber's hole, and seated in the maintop with Mr. Duncan's Bible, he remained in quiet meditation and apparent reading and prayer until the tropic day changed to sudden twilight and darkness, and the hysterical crew returned. Then he came down to dinner.

In the morning the work was resumed, and more boxes sprinkled the bay.

They drifted up with the flood, and came back with the ebb-tide; but among them now were about forty others, un.o.bserved by Captain Bunce, pacing his quarter-deck, but noted keenly by Mr. Todd. These forty drifted slowly to the offsh.o.r.e side of the brig and stopped, bobbing up and down on the crisp waves, even though the wind blew briskly with the tide, and they should have gone on with the others. It was then that Captain Bunce stepped below for a cigar, and it was then that Mr. Todd became strangely excited, hopping along the port-rail and throwing overboard every rope's end within reach, to the wonder and scandal of an open-eyed steward in the cabin door, who immediately apprised the captain.

Captain Bunce, smoking a freshly lit cigar, emerged to witness a shocking sight--the good and G.o.dly Mr. Todd, with an intense expression on his somber countenance, holding a match to a black pipe and puffing vigorously, while through the ports and over the rail red-s.h.i.+rted men, dripping wet and scowling, were boarding his brig. Each man carried a cutla.s.s and twelve-inch knife, and Captain Bunce needed no special intelligence to know that he was tricked.

One hail only he gave, and Mr. Todd, his pipe glowing like a hot coal, was upon him. The captain endeavored to draw his sword, but sinewy arms encircled him; his cigar was removed from his lips and inserted in the mouth of Mr. Todd alongside the pipe; then he was lifted, spluttering with astonishment and rage, borne to the rail and dropped overboard, his sword clanking against the side as he descended. When he came to the surface and looked up, he saw through a cloud of smoke on the rail the lantern-jaws of Mr. Todd working convulsively on pipe and cigar, and heard the angry utterance: "Yes, d--n ye, I smoke." Then a vibrant voice behind Mr. Todd roared out: "Kill n.o.body--toss 'em overboard,"

and the captain saw his servants, cooks, and stewards tumbling over to join him.

Captain Bunce turned and swam--there was nothing else to do. Soon he could see a black-eyed, black-mustached man on his quarter-deck delivering orders, and he recognized the thundering voice, but none of the c.o.c.kney accent of Captain Quirk. Men were already on the yards loosing canvas; and as he turned on his back to rest--for, though fleshy and buoyant, swimming in full uniform fatigued him--he saw his anchor-chains whizzing out the hawse-pipes.

He was picked up by the first boat to put off from the bark, and ordered pursuit; but this was soon seen to be useless. The clean-lined brig had sternway equal to the best speed of the boats, and now head-sails were run up, and she paid off from the sh.o.r.e. Topsails were sheeted home and hoisted, she gathered way, and with topgallantsails and royals, spanker and staysails, following in quick succession, the beautiful craft hummed down to the inlet and put to sea, while yells of derision occasionally came back to the white-faced men in the boats.

A month later the rehabilitated old bark also staggered out the entrance, and, with a naked, half-starved crew and sad-eyed, dilapidated officers, headed southward for Rio de Janeiro.

WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK

"Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just."

BARD OF AVON.

"But 4 times he who gits hiz blo' in fust."

JOSH BILLINGS.

Captain William Belchior was more than a martinet. He was known as "Bucko" Belchior in every port where the English language is spoken, having earned this prefix by the earnest readiness with which, in his days as second and chief mate, he would whirl belaying-pins, heavers, and handspikes about the decks, and by his success in knocking down, tricing up, and working up sailors who displeased him. With a blow of his fist he had broken the jaw of a man helplessly ironed in the 'tween-deck, and on the same voyage, armed with a simple belaying-pin, had sprung alone into a circle of brandis.h.i.+ng sheath-knives and quelled a mutiny. He was short, broad, beetle-browed, and gray-eyed, of undoubted courage, but with the quality of sympathy left out of his nature.

During the ten years in which he had been in command, he was relieved of much of the executive work that had made him famous when he stood watch, but was always ready to justify his reputation as a "bucko"

should friction with the crew occur past the power of his officers to cope with. His s.h.i.+p, the _Wilmington_, a skysail-yard clipper, was rated by sailormen as the "hottest" craft under the American flag, and Captain Belchior himself was spoken of by consuls and commissioners, far and near, as a man peculiarly unfortunate in his selection of men; for never a pa.s.sage ended but he was complainant against one or more heavily ironed and badly used-up members of his crew.

His officers were, in the language of one of these defendants, "o' the same breed o' dorg." No others could or would sign with him. His crews were invariably put on board in the stream or at anchorage--never at the dock. Drunk when coerced by the boarding-masters into signing the s.h.i.+p's articles, kept drunk until delivery, they were driven or hoisted up the side like animals--some in a stupor from drink or drugs, some tied hand and foot, struggling and cursing with returning reason.

Equipped thus, the _Wilmington_, bound for Melbourne, discharged her tug and pilot off Sandy Hook one summer morning, and, with a fresh quartering wind and raising sea, headed for the southeast. The day was spent in getting her sail on, and in the "licking into shape" of the men as fast as they recovered their senses. Oaths and missiles flew about the deck, knock-downs were frequent, and by eight bells in the evening, when the two mates chose the watches,--much as boys choose sides in a ball game,--the sailors were well convinced that their masters lived aft.

Three men, long-haired fellows, sprawling on the main-hatch, helpless from seasickness, were left to the last in the choosing and then hustled into the light from the near-by galley door to be examined.

They had been dragged from the forecastle at the mate's call for "all hands."

"Call yourselves able seamen, I suppose," he said with an oath, as he glared into their woebegone faces.

"No, pard," said the tallest and oldest of the three, in a weak voice.

"We're not seamen; we don't know how we got here, neither."

The mate's answer was a fist-blow under the ear that sent the man headlong into the scuppers, where he lay quiet.

"Say 'sir' when you speak to me, you bandy-legged farmers," he snarled, glowering hard at the other two, as they leaned against the water-tank.

"I'm pard to none of ye."

They made him no answer, and he turned away in contempt. "Mr. Tomm," he called, "want these Ethiopians in your watch?"

"No, sir," said the second mate; "I don't want 'em. They're no more use 'an a spare pump."

"I'll make 'em useful 'fore I'm done with 'em. Go forrard, you three.

Get the bile out o' yer gizzards 'fore mornin', 'f ye value yer good looks." He delivered a vicious kick at each of the two standing men, bawled out, "Relieve the wheel an' lookout--that'll do the watch," and went aft, while the crew a.s.sisted the seasick men to the forecastle and into three bedless bunks--bedless, because sailors must furnish their own, and these men had been shanghaied.

The wind died away during the night, and they awoke in the morning with their seasickness gone and appet.i.tes ravenous. Somber and ominous was their bearing as they silently ate of the breakfast in the forecastle and stepped out on deck with the rest in answer to the mate's roar: "All hands spread dunnage." Having no dunnage but what they wore, they drew off toward the windla.s.s and conferred together while chests and bags were dragged out on deck and overhauled by the officers for whisky and sheath-knives. What they found of the former they pocketed, and of the latter, tossed overboard.

"Where are the ca.n.a.l-drivers?" demanded the chief mate, as he raised his head from the last chest. "Where are our seasick gentlemen, who sleep all night--what--what----" he added in a stutter of surprise.

He was looking down three eight-inch barrels of three heavy Colt revolvers, c.o.c.ked, and held by three scowling, sunburnt men, each of whom was tucking with disengaged left hand the corner of a s.h.i.+rt into a waistband, around which was strapped a belt full of cartridges.

"Hands up!" snapped the tall man; "hands up, every one of ye! Up with 'em--over yer heads. That's right!" The pistols wandered around the heads of the crowd, and every hand was elevated.

"What's this? What d' ye mean? Put them pistols down. Give 'em up. Lay aft, there, some o' ye, and call the captain," bl.u.s.tered the mate, with his hands held high.

Not a man stirred to obey. The scowling faces looked deadly in earnest.

"Right about, face!" commanded the tall man. "March, every man--back to the other end o' the boat. Laramie, take the other side and round up anybody ye see. Now, gentlemen, hurry."

Away went the protesting procession, and, joined by the carpenter, sail-maker, donkey-man, and cook, "rounded up" from their sanctums by the man called Laramie, it had reached the main-hatch before the captain, pacing the quarter-deck, was aware of the disturbance. With Captain Belchior to think was to act. Springing to the cabin skylight, he shouted: "Steward, bring up my pistols. Bear a hand. Lower your weapons, you scoundrels; this is rank mutiny."

A pistol spoke, and the captain's hat left his head. "There goes your hat," said a voice; "now for a b.u.t.ton." Another bullet sped, which cut from his coat the b.u.t.ton nearest his heart. "Come down from there--come down," said the voice he had heard. "Next shot goes home. Start while I count three. One--two----" Captain Belchior descended the steps. "Hands up, same as the rest." Up went the captain's hands; such marksmans.h.i.+p was beyond his philosophy. "'Pache," went on the speaker, "go up there and get the guns he wanted." The steward, with two bright revolvers in his hands, was met at the companion-hatch by a man with but one; but that one was so big, and the hand which held it was so steady, that it was no matter of surprise that he obeyed the terse command, "Fork over, handles first." The captain's nickel-plated pistols went into the pockets of 'Pache's coat, and the white-faced steward, poked in the back by the muzzle of that big firearm, marched to the main-deck and joined the others.

"Go down that place, 'Pache, and chase out any one else ye find,"

called the leader from behind the crowd. "Bring 'em all down here."

'Pache descended, and reappeared with a frightened cabin-boy, whom, with the man at the wheel, he drove before him to the steps. There was no wind, and the s.h.i.+p could spare the helmsman.

"Now, then, gentlemen," said the tall leader, "I reckon we're all here.

Keep yer hands up. We'll have a powwow. 'Pache, stay up there, and you, Laramie, cover 'em from behind. Plug the first man that moves."

He mounted the steps to the quarter-deck, and, as he replaced empty sh.e.l.ls with cartridges, looked down on them with a serene smile on his not ill-looking face. His voice, except when raised in accents of command, had in it the musical, drawling, plaintive tone so peculiar to the native Texan--and so deceptive. The other two, younger and rougher men, looked, as they glanced at their victims through the sights of the pistols, as though they longed for the word of permission to riddle the s.h.i.+p's company with bullets.

"You'll pay for this, you infernal cut-throats," spluttered the captain. "This is piracy."

"Don't call any names now," said the tall man; "'t ain't healthy. We don't want to hurt ye, but I tell ye seriously, ye never were nearer death than ye are now. It's a risky thing, and a foolish thing, too, gentlemen, to steal three American citizens with guns under their s.h.i.+rts, and take 'em so far from land as this. Hangin''s the fit and proper punishment for hoss-stealin', but man-stealin''s so great a crime that I'm not right sure what the punishment is. Now, we don't know much 'bout boats and ropes,--though we can tie a hangman's knot when necessary,--but we do know somethin' 'bout guns and human natur'--here, you, come 'way from that fence."

The captain was edging toward a belaying-pin; but he noticed that the speaker's voice had lost its plaintiveness, and three tubes were looking at him. He drew inboard, and the leader resumed:

"Now, fust thing, who's foreman o' this outfit? Who's boss?"

"I'm captain here."