Part 26 (1/2)
”You heard that yarn old Cap'n Harris was telling the other day about the skipper he knew having a warning one night to alter his course, an'
doing so, picked up five live men and three dead skeletons in a open boat?” he inquired.
I nodded.
”The yarn in various forms is an old one,” said I.
”It's all founded on something I told him once,” said Bill. ”I don't wish to accuse Cap'n Harris of taking another man's true story an'
spoiling it; he's got a bad memory, that's all. Fust of all, he forgets he ever heard the yarn; secondly, he goes and spoils it.”
I gave a sympathetic murmur. Harris was as truthful an old man as ever breathed, but his tales were terribly restricted by this circ.u.mstance, whereas Bill's were limited by nothing but his own imagination.
”It was about fifteen years ago now,” began Bill, getting the quid into a bye-way of his cheek, where it would not impede his utterance ”I was A. B. on the Swallow, a barque, trading wherever we could pick up stuff.
On this v'y'ge we was bound from London to Jamaica with a general cargo.
”The start of that v'y'ge was excellent. We was towed out of the St.
Katherine's Docks here, to the Nore, an' the tug left us to a stiff breeze, which fairly raced us down Channel and out into the Atlantic.
Everybody was saying what a fine v'y'ge we was having, an' what quick time we should make, an' the fust mate was in such a lovely temper that you might do anything with him a'most.
”We was about ten days out, an' still slipping along in this spanking way, when all of a sudden things changed. I was at the wheel with the second mate one night, when the skipper, whose name was Brown, came up from below in a uneasy sort o' fas.h.i.+on, and stood looking at us for some time without speaking. Then at last he sort o' makes up his mind, and ses he-
”'Mr. McMillan, I've just had a most remarkable experience, an' I don't know what to do about it.'
”'Yes, sir?' ses Mr. McMillan.
”'Three times I 've been woke up this night by something shouting in my ear, ”Steer nor'-nor'-west!”' ses the cap'n very solemnly, '”Steer nor'-nor'-west!”' that's all it says. The first time I thought it was somebody got into my cabin skylarking, and I laid for 'em with a stick but I've heard it three times, an' there's nothing there.'
”'It's a supernatural warning,' ses the second mate, who had a great uncle once who had the second sight, and was the most unpopular man of his family, because he always knew what to expect, and laid his plans according.
”'That's what I think,' ses the cap'n. 'There's some poor s.h.i.+pwrecked fellow creatures in distress.”
”'It's a verra grave responsebeelity,' ses Mr. McMillan 'I should just ca' up the fairst mate.'
”'Bill,' ses the cap'n, 'just go down below, and tell Mr. Salmon I 'd like a few words with him partikler.'
”Well, I went down below, and called up the first mate, and as soon as I'd explained to him what he was wanted for, he went right off into a fit of outrageous bad language, an' hit me. He came right up on deck in his pants an' socks. A most disrespekful way to come to the cap'n, but he was that hot and excited he didn't care what he did.
”'Mr. Salmon,' ses the cap'n gravely, 'I've just had a most solemn warning, and I want to-'
”'I know,' says the mate gruffly.
”'What! have you heard it too?' ses the cap'n, in surprise. 'Three times?' ”I heard it from him,' ses the mate, pointing to me. 'Nightmare, sir, nightmare.'
”'It was not nightmare, sir,' ses the cap'n, very huffy, 'an if I hear it again, I 'm going to alter this s.h.i.+p's course.'
”Well, the fust mate was in a hole. He wanted to call the skipper something which he knew wasn't discipline. I knew what it was, an' I knew if the mate didn't do something he'd be ill, he was that sort of man, everything flew to his head. He walked away, and put his head over the side for a bit, an' at last, when he came back, he was, comparatively speaking, calm.
”'You mustn't hear them words again, sir,' ses he; 'don't go to sleep again to-night. Stay up, an' we'll have a hand o' cards, and in the morning you take a good stiff dose o' rhoobarb. Don't spoil one o' the best trips we've ever had for the sake of a pennyworth of rhoobarb,' ses he, pleading-like.
”'Mr. Salmon,' ses the cap'n, very angry, 'I shall not fly in the face o' Providence in any such way. I shall sleep as usual, an' as for your rhoobarb,' ses the cap'n, working hisself up into a pa.s.sion-'damme, sir, I'll-I'll dose the whole crew with it, from first mate to cabin-boy, if I have any impertinence.'