Part 12 (1/2)
”And isn't all fis.h.i.+ng killing?” asked Dan, as they flung out their own lines.
”No,” said Neb. ”When you cast a line, or a harpoon even, you give critters a chance; but them durned pirates thar don't give a fish no chance at all.”
”Did you ever cast a harpoon?” asked Dan, with interest.
For a moment the dull eyes kindled, the dull face brightened, as some deadened memory seemed to stir and waken into life; then the shadow fell heavy and hopeless again.
”Mebbe I did, sonny; I don't know. It's so far back I've most forgot.”
But old Neb's wits worked in their own way still. It took less than an hour to catch dinners for the whole Killykinick crew; and the fishermen came home to find that Captain Jeb had been doing duty during their absence, and breakfast was ready on the long table in the cabin,--a breakfast such as none of the white-coated waiters in their late journey could beat.
Captain Jeb knew nothing of cereals, but he had a big bowl of mush and a pitcher of golden cream; he had bacon and eggs frizzled to a charm; he had corndodgers and coffee that filled the air with fragrance,--such coffee as old sailors look for about break of day after a middle watch. Altogether, the crew of the ”Lady Jane” found things very pleasant, and the first week at Killykinick had all the interest of life in a newly discovered land.
Even Brother Bart was argued by the two old salts out of his ”nervousness,” and laddie was allowed to boat and fish and swim in safe waters under Dan's care; while Jim and Dud looked out for themselves, as such big fellows should.
”Thar's nothing to hurt them off thar,” said Captain Jeb, as Brother Bart watched his navigators with anxious eyes pus.h.i.+ng out over a stretch of dancing waves. ”'Twixt here and Numskull n.o.b you could 'most walk ash.o.r.e.
Jest keep them out of the Devil's Jaw, that's all.”
”The Lord between us and harm!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Brother Bart, in pious horror.
”Where is that at all?”
”The stretch of rock yonder,” replied Captain Jeb, nodding to the northeast.
”And isn't that an awful name to give to a Christian sh.o.r.e?” asked Brother Bart.
”No worse than them ar suck-holes of waves deserves,” was the grim answer.
”When the high tide sweeps in thar, it kerries everything with it, and them caves guzzle it all down, n.o.body knows whar.”
”Ah, G.o.d save us!” said Brother Bart. ”It's the quare place to choose aither for life or death. I wonder at the laddie's uncle, and ye too, for staying all these years. Wouldn't it be better now, at yer time of life, for ye to be saving yer soul in quiet and peace, away from the winds and the storms and the roaring seas that are beating around ye here?”
”No,” was the gruff answer,--”no, Padre. I couldn't live away from the winds and the storms and the waves. I couldn't die away from them either.
I'd be like a deep sea-fish washed clean ash.o.r.e. How them landlubbers live with everything dead and dull around them, I don't see. I ain't been out of sight of deep water since I s.h.i.+pped as cabin boy in the 'Lady Jane'
nigh onto sixty years ago. I've been aloft in her rigging with the sea beating over the deck and the wind whistling so loud ye couldn't hear the cuss words the old man was a-roaring through his trumpet below. I've held her wheel through many a black night when no mortal man could tell sh.o.r.e from sea. I stood by her when she struck on this here reef, ripped open from stem to stern; and I'm standing by her now, 'cording to the old Captain's orders, yet.”
”Ye may be right,” said Brother Bart, reflectively. ”It's not for me to judge ye, Jeroboam.” (Brother Bart never shortened that Scriptural t.i.tle.) ”But I bless the Lord day and night that I was not called to the sea.--What is it the boys are after now!” he added, with an anxious glance at the boat in which laddie and Dan had ventured out beyond his call.
”Lobsters,” replied Captain Jeb. ”Them's Neb's lobster pots bobbing up thar, and they've got a catch that will give us a dinner fit for a king.”
”It's all to your taste,” said Brother Bart. ”Barrin' fast days, of which I say nothing, I wouldn't give a good Irish stew for all the fish that ever swam the seas. But laddie is thrivin' on the food here, I must say.
There's a red in his cheeks I haven't seen for months; but what with the rocks and the seas and the Devil's Jaw foreninst them, it will be the mercy of G.o.d if I get the four boys safe home.”
”You needn't fear,” was the cheering a.s.surance. ”They are fine, strapping fellows, and a touch of sailor life won't harm them; though it's plain them two big chaps and little Polly's boys are used to softer quarters.
But for a long voyage I'd s.h.i.+p Mate Danny before any of them.”
”Ye would?” asked Brother Bart.