Part 2 (1/2)
Calamity smiled.
”Don't worry yourself, Mr. d.y.k.es, I don't think we shall have very much trouble with them. One or two, I know, have sailed with me before and they, probably, will give the others the benefit of their experience.”
Mr. d.y.k.es having been dismissed, chief-engineer McPhulach was summoned to the cabin. Asked his opinion of the men under him, his reply varied in terms but agreed in spirit with that already given by the mate.
”The sc.u.m of the bottomless pit,” was how he put it.
”They may not be a liner's crew exactly,” said Calamity in an almost gentle voice, ”but I think we shall understand one another before long.”
Whereat McPhulach departed with an almost happy smile and knocked down an insolent fireman for the good of his soul.
That evening, according to his promise, Captain Calamity arrived at Mr.
Solomon's store, accompanied by Mr. d.y.k.es, whom he duly introduced. This done, he informed his partner that he was sailing that night.
”Vat, so soon!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Solomon.
”You don't want your capital lying idle longer than necessary, do you?”
”No, no, but----”
”Then sign these bills of lading and don't waste my time.”
Mr. Solomon turned up the smoky little oil-lamp which inadequately illuminated the room, put on his spectacles, and proceeded to examine the papers Calamity had thrust before him. He scrutinised each one so long and so carefully that at last the Captain lost patience and swore he would not sail at all unless the remainder were signed without delay.
So, much against his better judgment, Mr. Solomon put his name to the rest without doing more than glance over the contents.
That night the _Hawk_ weighed anchor and steamed unostentatiously out of Singapore Harbour without troubling the customs authorities or any other officials whatever.
CHAPTER III
MUTINY
By dawn the _Hawk_ was churning her way at full speed towards the Java Sea and a destination unknown to any one but the Captain. It was too early to judge of the qualities of the s.h.i.+p, but those of the crew were already becoming manifest. Indeed, it looked as if the prophecies of the mate and the engineer were likely to be fulfilled sooner than even they expected. The men did not work with a will; worse still, they didn't even grumble. They maintained a solid, stolid, sullen silence that had the same effect on the nerves as a black and threatening cloud on a still day. They quarrelled amongst themselves, but for the officers they only had lowering glances and threats muttered below the breath. One would imagine that they had all been shanghaied or s.h.i.+pped under false pretences. Besides the boatswain, his mate and a couple of quartermasters, there were very few white men amongst them, and between these and the rest of the crew a state of hostility already existed.
When the boatswain's mate put his head inside the forecastle door to call the morning watch no one swore at him, and that was a very bad sign indeed.
”Now then, my sons, and you know the sons I mean! Show a leg, show a leg, show a leg!” he called.
n.o.body threw a boot at him, n.o.body consigned him to the nether regions, n.o.body told him what his mother had been. The men tumbled out of their bunks with surly, glowering faces and with scarcely a word spoken.
”Rouse out! Rouse out! You hang-dog, half-caste, loafing swine!” roared the boatswain's mate, hoping that he might thus goad them into cheerfulness and induce a homely feeling.
He failed, however, and though one man made a tentative movement with his hand in the direction of a sheath-knife at his hip, nothing came of it.
The matter was reported to Mr. d.y.k.es, who shook his head gloomily.
”You ought, by rights, to be half-dead by now,” he said, looking resentfully at the boatswain's mate.
The latter evidently felt his position and tried to look apologetic.