Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship Part 26

"Would you care for a man who would stay out of a thing that he was fitted for, simply because it was hard?" I asked her.

She blushed and turned away.

"I was not speaking of caring for any one, Mr. Rolling," she replied.

And then she added quickly, "I think we will go below and see what they have for us."

"No, wait just one minute, Jennie," I said, taking her hand and stopping her gently without attracting the attention of the men forward. "This is the first time we've had a chance to talk of ourselves in two months. I want to ask you if you really meant that?"

"Meant what?" she said, stopping and turning around, facing me squarely.

"That you didn't care for any one?" I stammered, and I remember how my face burned.

She let me hold her hand and looked up into my eyes.

"I never said any such thing--that I didn't care for any one," she replied.

"Then do you, Jennie?"

She made no answer, and let her eyes fall. I let go her hand and drew myself up, for I was uncertain.

"I say, Rolling, what the deuce are you two doing?" bawled the voice of Jackwell from the companion, and then I realized that there was little privacy aboard a ship of three hundred tons.

We went aft guiltily, and met the rest coming up the companion with bottled beer and sandwiches which were served as refreshments. Chairs were set out by the old mate and two harpooners who had come aft, and the cook spruced himself up to get us out a plum-duff for lunch. From where we sat behind the p.o.o.p rise, nothing could be seen forward, and here we ate and drank while Jackwell laughed and talked incessantly, being a completely changed man from the sarcastic and somewhat truculent skipper I had known for the last three months. It was finally suggested that as the awning was stretched, the plum-duff could be served on deck better than below in the stuffy cabin, so here we enjoyed the meal.

XXII

While we ate, Jackwell expanded more and more under the influence of duff and beer. He leaned back in his chair and gazed at the mainmast.

"What makes the top of your mast so black, hey? Is it the smoke from the kettles, or have you been afire? Sink me, Henry, there couldn't have been any such luck as your old hooker afire and being put out, hey? Ha, ha, hah! that would have been asking too much of the devil."

"It's hollow," said the old mate.

"What? Hollow? What the deuce is your mast hollow for?"

"Well, that is a question, isn't it, Mrs. Sackett?" said Henry. "Perhaps he asks you sometimes what a smoke-pipe is hollow for, don't he? I never seen such a funny man. But he'll never get over it, I want to know."

"Is it really hollow?" asked Jennie of the old mate.

"Yessum, it certainly is. Why, it's the smoke-pipe, you know," was the reply. "We have an engine in the lazarette that'll take us along more'n three knots in dead calm weather. It's been a lot o' help, when the wind has been light and ahead, fer picking up the boats. Ye know a whale always makes dead to windward, mostly, an' if the wind is light and we've got to go a long ways, the poor devils would most starve waitin' fer us, like they used to do in the old times. The lower mast is iron. There's lots of them that way now. The soot makes the canvas black sometimes, but there ain't no sparks to speak of ever comes out of that top, as it's mostly blubber we burns."

Jackwell became silent for several minutes, and then, as his eyes were still directed at the masthead, I looked again and noticed the topsail yard settled below the lower masthead.

"How do you suppose he keeps it up like that?" I asked Jackwell, trying to be civil.

"Keeps what up like what?" he said, in his old tone.

"The yard," I answered shortly.

"Oh, mostly by force of habit, I reckon," said he, nodding sarcastically at me and wrinkling his nose. "That's it, ain't it, Henry? Your yards stay mastheaded mostly by force o' habit, hey? They don't need no ropes."

I saw I was not forgotten, so afterward I kept quiet when he spoke. In a moment or two after this there was a wild yell from forward. This terminated into a deep ba.s.s roar, and we all jumped up to see what was the matter.

The form of a man sat on the starboard cat-head, and in his mouth was a horn of enormous size, the mouth being fully three feet across.

"Sooaye, Sooa-a-aye!" he roared. "Make way fer the great king o' the sea!"

I saw the fellow had on a long, rope-yarn beard and a wig to match, while a pair of black wings hung from his shoulders.

While he called, creatures swarmed over the bows. Men with beards and men without, some holding long spears and streamers, and some with three-p.r.o.nged tridents, all having huge heads with grotesque faces, and forked tails which hung down behind.

"Hooray fer the king o' the sea!" bawled the fellow through the horn; and then the motley crowd yelled in chorus, some blowing huge conch-sh.e.l.ls, and all making a most hideous racket.

Jennie stopped her ears and gazed, laughing at the throng. She had been across the line before in some of the older ships with her father, and knew of the practice. Mrs. Sackett and Captain Henry cheered and waved their handkerchiefs, but Jackwell sat silently looking on. Finally all of us went to the break of the p.o.o.p, where we could get a better view, and just as we arrived, a monstrous form came over the knight-heads and stood forth on deck.

The fellow had a beard fully a fathom long, and he stood nearly two fathoms high, his feet being hoof-shaped. Gigantic black canvas wings hung from his shoulders, and a huge wig of rope-yarn, with the hair falling to his waist, sat on his head. He was escorted unsteadily to a seat upon the trying-out furnace.

"All who have to worship the king, come forth, an' stan' out!" yelled the man with the horn. This was greeted with cheers and blasts on the conch-sh.e.l.ls.

Some of our men had never been over before, and one of the boat's crew confessed. He was quickly seized and brought before King Neptune.

"Sit ye down, right there in that there cheer," said the king, scowling fiercely.

The fellow sat down and stared, smiling at the monster.

"Have ye paid fer comin' acrost this here lat.i.tood, me son?" asked the king.

"No," said the sailor.

"No, what?" roared the king.

The chair was placed on the edge of the main kettle and the monster simply raised his hand to one of his retainers. This fellow tilted it up, sailor and all, into the smother of suds and water. Instantly there were roars of laughter, as all hands watched the man trying to get clear of the slippery iron tank. Every time he would get a hold, his fingers would be rapped sharply, and down he would go, floundering about. He was finally let off with a fine of a plug of tobacco, all his belongings save the clothes he had with him.

Other men followed, for the whaler had a crew of thirty-five. Some were shaved with a barrel hoop for a razor, and tar for lather, being finally released for some tobacco.

"Come aft, O king," bawled Henry, after the fun had grown fast and furious. "Come aft, and get a donation from the ladies."

The great fellow was escorted unsteadily to the p.o.o.p, where he saluted the women.

"Have ye never paid toll to go to the other world, yet?" asked the king.

"No," said Jackwell, who was getting tired of the fun, "I ain't never been acrost, and I ain't a-going to pay toll."

"Shall he pay?" asked the king of Henry.