Part 3 (2/2)
”Does yo want er pilot, sah?”
”No,” responded the captain, ”Oi know this coast well enough, but Oi think ye had bother hoist that craft av yure's on boord an' come wid us into Port Royal. There is signs av a cyclone if Oi'm not mishtaken;”
an invitation which the pilot gladly accepted. His outlandish attire and quaint English greatly amused Paul, who after supper, sat beside him on the deck and plied him with questions about Jamaica. The pilot told him many interesting tales, among them one of a famous shark known as ”Port Royal Tom” who was supposed to inhabit the waters of Kingston's beautiful bay. ”Tom, sah, was a pow'ful shahk, 'bout thirty feet long; but n.o.body know how ole he was. In de ol'en times big fleets ob English men-ob-war use to anchoh off Port Royal, an' dat shahk got fat on de refuse dat was frown ovahboahd. Sometimes de sailors would heah de yallow gals laughin' an' dancin' on de shoah at night an' dey longed fur to jine dem. Dey wasn't 'lowed to go of'en in dose days 'cause de yallow fevah was dere; but when de sailor boys got a chance dey would slip sof'ly down de side an' strike out fur de shoah. Tom, he know dis custom, an' he kep sharp eye on de boys, an' I 'shure yo'
sah, dat dat shahk gobbled up moah seamen dan 'uld fill de bigges' ob de Queen's men-ob-wah. As lots ob de sailors went ashoah fur 'sertion as well as fur 'mus.e.m.e.nt, de navay people winked dere lef' eye at de tricks ob ole Tom. After a while de sailors got to belibe dat he wah under de pay ob de gove'ment, an' many a red-hot cannon ball ware sec'etly dropped ober de side to Tom, yafter firs' temptin' him wid nice pieces ob salt junk. I nab neber seen ole Tom myself, sah, but dey say dat he is 'round heah yet. Lucinda Nelson, de great fortune tellah an hoodoo 'oman done tole me dat Tom's now livin' in a big ware-house down in ole Jamaica an' dat he sel'om comes out 'cause he's getting'
quite ole. Ole Jamaica, yo' mus' remembah, sah, is fifteen fathom below de ocean now. Great earthquake come up one night an' swallowed de whole town an only a few yeahs ago, when de watah was right cleah, yo'
could see de tops ob some ob de houses still standin' at de bottom. I belibe Lucinda Nelson, sah, fur she's a great 'oman an' known a heap ob tings. n.i.g.g.ah folks all go to her fur hoodoos an' chahms an' I reckon she mus' be close on two hun' yeahs ole.”
Captain Balbo who was laying close by did not seem to pay much attention to the story of Port Royal Tom. He had heard it often before; but he p.r.i.c.ked up his ears when Lucinda was mentioned and eagerly questioned the pilot as to her present whereabouts. Turning to Paul, he said: ”Oi've heard a good dale about, this fortune-teller, an' Oi intind to visit her; she may be able to put us onto somethin' good” Paul laughed at the idea of her knowing anything about wrecks or sunken treasure; but the captain persisted in his determination to find her when they landed.
The wind having dropped, the schooner was becalmed and lazily pitched around on the gentle swell. The captain called loudly to his help- mate Betsy to bring up some fresh cigars and a bottle of grog and settled himself more comfortably on deck to enjoy the pilot's stories.
”Have you ever seen Port Royal Tom?” Paul asked the captain.
”No,” responded the Captain; ”but a frind av moine did an' ye may rest ashured that he is around here somewhere. Oi wouldn't be surprised if he were in the ould ware-house that our frind, the pilot mintioned.”
”I guess yo' see a great many shahks in yoah time, ma.s.sa Cap'in:” said the pilot.
”Yis,” responded the captain, ”Oi saw lots av thim.” He nudged Paul with his foot and a merry twinkle lit his eyes. ”They're curious brutes an'
not built like human bein's.”
The pilot and Paul were now all attention as the captain seemed inclined to spin a yarn.
”Whin Oi wuz a shtrapping young fellow about eighteen, Oi wuz sailin'
aboord a trader. Wan day we were layin' becalmed, as we air now, off Turk's Island. While we were quietly sittin' on the bulwarks, we saw a monstrous shaark off our starboard beam. The ould mon at the toime was snorin' away in his cabin, an' it was a foine chance to have a little fun. We out wid the shaark hook and havin' baited it wid a temptin'
piece av junk, attached it to a shtrong line which we rove troo the davitts. Afther smellin' round it, the shaark turned on its side an'
swallowed it. All hands clapped on to the rope an' we hoisted him clear out av the wather. A bowline wuz pa.s.sed over his tail an' we got him on boord an' a few blows wid the axe along the spine quited him down. His floppin' on the deck niver woke the skipper, so we cut him open. We shlit him from close under the mouth to near the tail and overhauled everything that wuz in him. In the stomach we found a collection of soup an' bouillon cans an' bottles enough to shtart a liquor house. As we wuz examinin' the stuff, the ould man came on deck an' thundered out:”
”'What the blazes are ye doin' there messin' me decks up! Get that brute overboord quick an' wash down.' We histed the carca.s.s av the gutted shaark an' pa.s.sed it over the side. We watched the body as it struck the wather. It remained still fur a few minutes, thin, to our amazement, turned over an' began swimmin'. He casht his eye inquiringly up at the crew, who were all standin' along the rail lookin' at him, as though he wanted somethin'. The skipper himself was so overcome at the shtrange soight that he furgot, fur the toime bein', all about the disgustin'
state av the deck. Quickly recoverin' himself, he hoa.r.s.ely ordered the crew to git the stomach and internals av that shaark overboard and git cleaned down. Three av us grasped the shaark's insides an' liftin' thim to the rail, cast thim into the say. Whin they shtruck the wather they were grabbed be the shark an' swallowed. As his belly was cut wide open, they went through him an' came to the surface. Three times he done this, but did'nt succeed in holdin' thim in their proper place. At this toime all hands were on the rail watchin' the sport an' ivery wan laughed loud at his maneuverin'. The shaark seemed to grow more vexed at each failure an' to resist the merriment of the crew for he cast many furious and malicious glances at the vessel. Once more he backed off fur a charge to swallow thim an' this toime succeeded in holdin' thim in be a nate trick. Instid av turnin' partly on his side an' showin' his dorsal fin afther he had swallowed he kept bottom up and swam slowly away waggin' av his tail with a gratified air while a huge grin spread over his repulsive countenance.”
”Great lo'd, sah,” said the pilot, ”dat was wonderful indeed!”
The captain gazed sternly into the pilot's eye to see if there was the glimmer of a doubt therein, while Paul tumbled into the cabin to suppress his fit of convulsive laughter.
During the night the threatened cyclone made its appearance and the ”Foam” let go her anchor in Kingston harbor just time to escape the full fury of the storm. After some considerable trouble at the Custom House, the cargo of the ”Foam” was landed and disposed of; except the sh.e.l.ls and curiosities gathered in the months' run through tint islands.
Those as usual were cased and left in the hands of a merchant for s.h.i.+pment to New York. The sale of the wreckage amounted to three hundred and twelve dollars. After deducting the stores consumed on the vessel, the captain offered half the balance to Paul, who refused, as the sh.e.l.ls obtained were equal in value to the wreckage. The captain insisted that he should at least accept one hundred dollars. All business was concluded and the ”Foam” provisioned; but the weather was still stormy and unsettled so they decided to remain over until it cleared up. The captain and Paul made many excursions around Kingston. One of them was to the camp of the English soldiers. It was situated on a plateau above the town about four thousand feet from the sea level. To reach this camp they had to charter jacka.s.ses. Captain Balbo was not at home on this stubborn craft. All went well on the plains below; but when they reached the steep path up the mountain side the captain could not hold his seat. His fat body would continually slip down on the flanks of the donkey, who would begin to practice as though he wanted to kick a hole in the sky. Three times the captain was unseated but finally he struck a plan of holding on to the donkey's tail and in this manner was towed up the mountain. The magnificent sight from the camp amply repaid them for their arduous ascent. They could distinctly see every part of Kingston as it lay stretched along the sh.o.r.e of its superb bay, while on the other side, a long tongue of land covered with cocoanut trees reached out and almost made the harbor a lake. At the extreme point was the entrance out into the ocean, where immense naval store-houses covered the beach and off them were moored great hulks belonging to the British government. They thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful view and did not regain the town until almost nightfall. Instead of going aboard, the captain proposed to have dinner at a hotel; after which he persisted in making a visit to the fortune teller. The pilot was easily found and consented to act as a guide to the cabin of the dark seeress.
Along tramp through the narrow streets and a little out in the country brought them to the habitation of this famed dealer in ”Black Art.” The house was almost buried by banana trees and heavy vines. In response to the captain's impatient knocks, the door was opened by a little girl, who said:
”Gran won't see any one to-night, no use in trying.”
”We must see her fur we're goin' away to-morrow an' won't have another chance,” urged the captain.
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