Steve Young Part 8

"Humph! don't sound as if you thought so, my boy. There, you've not anything serious the matter with you. The bruises will get well of themselves. But don't look at me in that disappointed way; were you in the hope that I should perform some serious operation?"

"Ugh! No, sir."

"Oh, I see; you are disappointed because I have given you no medicine.

Why, Steve, you are as bad as the poor people who come to a dispensary.

They are not happy unless they have a box of pills and a bottle of medicine. I'll mix you up something."

"No, no! don't, sir, please," cried Steve. "I am very much better now; I am, indeed."

"Very well, then; lie down there for an hour or two, till the sickness produced by the shock has gone off."

"Oh no, sir. I needn't do that, need I?"

"Well, then, come on deck."

Steve rose from the locker, winced, and subsided again.

"I think I will lie for a little while."

The doctor nodded and left him in the cabin, where he lay back for about ten minutes listening to the thumping about on deck, where the men were evidently busy making more preparations for the adventurous cruise. His shoulder ached, and there was a peculiar strained feeling about the muscles of his chest; but this did not trouble him so much as the strained sensation in his mind. For, as he lay back there, he began to think about what they were saying respecting him on deck. The doctor would have told Captain Marsham how he was, Mr Lowe would hear it, and then it would go to the men from the engineer and the four Norwegians downward.

"And they'll think I've no more pluck than a girl," he thought at last; "just when I want to show that I am ready to take my part in anything.

Why, if I'm ready to be upset like this, I shall be left on board when they are going on expeditions fishing, shooting, or hunting, and--Oh!

this won't do."

And to prove that it would not do he jumped up, walked up and down the cabin twice,--a very short journey, by the way,--found that it did not hurt him more than lying still on the locker, and then went on deck.

CHAPTER FIVE.

REVENGE BY DEPUTY.

"Better, Steve?" said the captain, giving him a friendly nod; and without waiting for his answer, he went forward to where the engineer, who had nothing to do, was talking to the mate, and then they all went below into the engine-room.

One of the Norway men was at the wheel, the other sailors were in the forecastle, and there was no one to talk to; so Steve went forward, and was nearly abreast of the galley when Watty Links, the shock-headed boy, came out bearing a bucket of potato peelings and refuse, looking sour and sore, but as soon as he caught sight of Steve his face expanded into a broad grin, and, evidently in a high state of delight, he trotted to the side, turned the contents of the bucket overboard, and ran back into the galley, keeping his head averted as if to hide his mirth.

The blood flushed up into Steve's cheeks, and he turned away, walking aft to watch the grey gulls which seemed to have arrived all at once, and were flying about in quite a crowd, making darts down to the surface to seize some fragment that was floating, amidst querulous screaming and the beating of wings.

It was a curious sight to see the rapidity with which a sc.r.a.p of biscuit or fat was darted upon, and borne aloft by the hungry birds; but somehow in the grey cloud of feathers wheeling round and rising and falling above the glittering sea, Steve seemed to see the mocking face of Watty, who, smarting from the contempt with which he had been treated, s.n.a.t.c.hed at the opportunity for triumphing over the other's misfortune; and he could not have selected a way more likely to sting him than by a display of derision.

"Verra beautiful, Meester Young, isn't it?" said a voice, and Steve turned sharply to find it was the Scottish sailor who had approached unheard.

"What, the sparkling sea, Andra?"

"Nay, the burruds, sir. Look at the pretty things. It minds me o'

being in Loch Fyne, coming down from Crinan in ane o' Meester Macbrayne's bonnie boats on the way to Glasgie."

"Does it? I've never been there."

"Eh, then she ha'e lost a gran' treat, laddie. There's plenty o' watter here, but never a mountain, nor a toon glinting oot o' the sh.o.r.e. Look yonder, laddie; there's a bit of a fesh."

"Porpoise!" cried Steve excitedly; "and another, and another. Why, there's a regular shoal."

"Ay, after the herrin', maybe, laddie. See how they come up and turn over, and dive doon again. Canny kind o' fesh a porpoise, but they're much finer than these in the Clyde. I'm thenking, though, that we'll ha'e to shorten sail a wee. It means wint."

Captain Marsham was evidently of the same opinion, for coming on deck soon after he gave orders which resulted in a little of the canvas being lowered down, and the _Hvalross_ then steadily continued her course without sending the spray scattering in a brilliant shower over the forward part of the deck.

While this was being done Steve pa.s.sed the galley door again, and bit his lip, for Watty, taking advantage of the cook's back being turned, thrust out his head as if by accident, gave a sham start as if astonished to see Steve, burst into a silent fit of laughter, which he pretended to smother, and drew his head in again.

"I wonder whether it would hurt my shoulder much if I were to punch his head?" thought Steve.

He walked on, feeling that he ought to treat the annoyance with contempt; but even as he felt this he could not help looking back, when he saw that Watty was watching him, but clapped his hand over his mouth and drew in his head directly.

This was repeated again and again that day, as if the boy found some satisfaction for his disgrace in annoying some one of his own years.

Steve pretended not to heed it; but so sure as he went forward Watty's head was thrust out of the galley, and drawn back again, apparently to conceal the uncontrollable mirth from which the lad pretended to be suffering; while in spite of Steve's efforts all this stung him more and more, till he felt as if he must do something by way of revenge.

It was not easy, and he knew that it was _infra dig_ even to show that he was annoyed, let alone attempting to "serve the boy out," as he termed it; but the desire to give Watty some punishment for his annoyance increased.

The opportunity came at last; the extent of Steve's forbearance was at an end. He was going forward to join the four Norwegians, who were busy preparing one of the boats for their first expedition against the walrus, so that when the time came everything might be quite ready, when Watty rushed hurriedly out of the galley, turned sharply upon seeing him, burst into one of his silent fits of laughter, and hurried back through the door.

It all happened in a moment, and Watty's departure was hastened far more than he intended. There was a bound, a kick, and the boy disappeared with a crash, followed by a burst of objurgations, the sound of cuffs and blows, and a whining voice raised pitifully in appeal and explanation. But he had evidently knocked something down in his unceremonious and hasty entrance, and the irate cook was in no temper either to listen to explanations or to believe in what he immediately set down as an excuse.

Steve stood listening to the struggle within, his anger gone, like the electricity in a Leyden jar, at a touch, and he was about to enter the galley and explain, when Watty rushed out, darted forward, and dived down the hatchway into the forecastle, from which place he was ignominiously fetched by the cook like some culprit arrested by a policeman; and the next time he met Steve without the faintest suggestion of a smile upon his countenance.

CHAPTER SIX.

FIRST PERILS.

The next day there was something else to think about, for the arctic summer strongly resembled a temperate zone winter. The wind came in heavy gusts from the north-east; there were snow-squalls which shut them in, and on pa.s.sing away left the deck an inch deep in the soft white fur, while for a time every yard, rope, and sail was covered.

"Doesn't seem much like June, eh, Steve?" said the doctor.

But in the intervals between the squalls the sun came out warmly, the snow melted aloft, and was rapidly swept from the deck.

Three days pa.s.sed like this, during which careful, slow progress had to be made, for it was early in the year yet, and June meant a month when the ice was still packed heavily and had not had time to break up and disperse, so that in even this brief time the _Hvalross_ had sailed from summer back, as it were, into winter. Then the wind dropped, the sea grew calm, and the vessel lay rolling slowly in the heavy swell, apparently with night coming on, which seemed the more strange, for evening by evening it had grown lighter, and but for the clouds Steve's great desire would have been gratified, and he would have seen the midnight sun.

On this particular evening, as they lay rolling there, a dense fog had settled down upon the sea, producing the aforesaid darkness; and though this thick gloom was somewhat modified by what seemed to be a dim reflection as of light trying to force its way through, the mist was so dense that the fore part of the vessel was invisible from by the wheel, as the boy stood with the captain and Dr Hands...o...b.. waiting for the fog to lift.

A man had been sent up to the crow's-nest; but the fog was more dense there than below, and he had descended.

"This means ice close by somewhere, eh, Lowe?" said the captain.

"Yes, sir; I've been listening for it, but my ear is not keen enough to pierce this fog. Hullo! what's the matter with the dog?"

For just then the big collie began to whine and sniff about uneasily, making little snaps in the air.