Part 24 (2/2)
”Young gentleman,” said Dodd to Mr. Meredith, a mids.h.i.+pman, ”be so good as to send the cook aft.”
The cook came, and received, not an oath nor a threat but a remonstrance, and a grim warning.
In the teeth of this he burnt the soup horribly the very next day.
The crew sent the lucky foretopman aft again. He made his sc.r.a.pe and presented his fid. The captain tasted the soup, and sent Mr. Grey to bid the boatswain's mate pipe the hands on deck and bring the cook aft.
”Quartermaster, unsling a fire-bucket and fill it from the men's kids: Mr. Tickell, see the cook swallow his own mess. Bosen's mate, take a bight of the flying jib sheet stand over him, and start him if he dailies with it.” With this the captain went below, and the cook, supping at the bucket delivered himself as follows: ”Well, ye lubbers, it is first--rate. _There's_ no burn in it. It goes down like oil. Curse your ladylike stomachs; you ain't fit for a s.h.i.+p; why don't ye go ash.o.r.e and man a gingerbread coach and feed off French frogs and Italian baccy-pipe stems? (Whack.) What the ---- is that for?”
_Boatswain's mate._ ”Sup more, and jaw less.”
”Well, I am supping as fast as I can. (Whack, whack.) b.l.o.o.d.y end to ye, what are ye about? (Whack, whack, whack.) Oh, Joe, Lord bless you, I _can't_ eat any more of it. (Whack.) I'll give you my grog for a week only to let me fling the ---- stuff over the side. (Whack, whack, whack.) Oh, good, kind, dear Mr. Tickell, do go down to the captain for me.” (Whack, whack.)
”Avast!” cried the captain, reappearing; and the uplifted rope fell harmless.
”Silence, fore and aft!”
(Pipe.)
”The cook has received a light punishment this time, for spoiling the men's mess. My crew shall eat nothing I can't eat myself. My care is heavier than theirs is; but not my work, nor my danger in time of danger. Mind that, or you'll find I can be as severe as any master afloat. Purser.”
”Sir.”
”Double the men's grog: they have been cheated of their meal.”
”Ay, ay, sir.”
”And stop the cook's and his mate's for a week.”
”Ay, ay, sir.”
”Bosen, pipe down.”
”s.h.i.+pmates, listen to me,” said the foretopman. ”This old _Agra_ is a d----d com--for--table s.h.i.+p.”
The oracular sentence was hailed with a ringing cheer. Still, it is unlucky the British seaman is so enamoured of theological terms; for he constantly misapplies them.
After lying a week like a dead log on the calm but heaving waters, came a few light puffs in the upper air and inflated the topsails only: the s.h.i.+p crawled southward, the crew whistling for wind.
At last, one afternoon, it began to rain, and after the rain came a gale from the eastward. The watchful skipper saw it purple the water to windward, and ordered the topsails to be reefed and the lee ports closed. This last order seemed an excess of precaution; but Dodd was not yet thoroughly acquainted with his s.h.i.+p's qualities: and the hard cash round his neck made him cautious. The lee ports were closed, all but one, and that was lowered. Mr. Grey was working a problem in his cabin, and wanted a little light and a little air, so he just drooped his port; but, not to deviate from the spirit of his captain's instructions, he fastened a tackle to it; that he might have mechanical force to close it with should the s.h.i.+p lie over.
Down came the gale with a whoo, and made all crack. The s.h.i.+p lay over pretty much, and the sea poured in at Mr. Grey's port. He applied his purchase to close it. But though his tackle gave him the force of a dozen hands, he might as well have tried to move a mountain; on the contrary, the tremendous sea rushed in and burst the port wide open.
Grey, after a vain struggle with its might, shrieked for help; down tumbled the nearest hands, and hauled on the tackle in vain. Destruction was rus.h.i.+ng on the s.h.i.+p, and on them first. But meantime the captain, with a shrewd guess at the general nature of the danger he could not see, had roared out, ”Slack the main sheet.” The s.h.i.+p righted, and the port came flying to, and terror-stricken men breathed hard, up to their waists in water and floating boxes. Grey barred the unlucky port and went aft, drenched in body, and wretched in mind, to report his own fault. He found the captain looking grim as death. He told him, almost crying, what he had done, and how he had miscalculated the power of the water.
Dodd looked and saw his distress. ”Let it be a lesson, sir,” said he, sternly. ”How many s.h.i.+ps have been lost by this in fair weather, and not a man saved to tell how the craft was fooled away?”
”Captain, bid me fling myself over the side, and I'll do it.”
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