The Island Treasure Part 11

"Aye, bo, in a brace o' shakes," said Hiram, rousing himself and polling up the fire. "I dessay I'm a doggoned fool to be skeart like thet, but I'd hev taken my davy I put the durned thing in my chest a month ago--I would so; an' then the stooard comed in with his yarn on top o' what Cholly sed o' seein' Sam's ghost t'other day, an'--an' I'm a durned fool; thet's all I sez!"

"You're none the worse for that, bo," observed Tom, with a grin at the American's rather shamefaced apology foe his superst.i.tious fears; and Hiram presently joined in the laugh against himself, as he busied himself in stirring the coppers and tasting the tea, to see whether it was all right yet. I, also, began to feel more comfortable in my mind; while a little colour crept into Morris Jones' pale face, which had become as white as a sheet before Tom's advent on the scene, the steward looking as if he were going to faint from fright.

It is wonderful what an effect the courage of one man has in restoring the confidence of others under such circ.u.mstances!

Bustling about the galley, ladling out the contents of the coppers as the men came up one by one with their pannikins for their tea, I quickly forgot my scare of a minute or so agone. So, too, apparently, did the steward, who commenced preparing the captain's dinner, as soon as the fire had burnt up and he could get s.p.a.ce enough to use his frying-pan; while, as for Hiram, he was singing away in fine style at his work, dishing up some lobscouse for the men's supper, in friendly rivalry of Morris Jones, whom he could 'give points to' and easily beat in the cooking line, none of us troubling ourselves any longer with any recollection of poor Sam Jedfoot or his ghost.

The gale continued to ease down, and the heavy, rolling sea gradually subsided as night sped on; but, the wind veering round in the middle watch more to the northwards of west, we had to come about on the port tack, steering west-nor'-west, more in towards the Cape. We had plenty of sea room to do this, though, from the good offing we had previously made, being at least five or six degrees well to the southward of the stormy headland at our last reckoning, before the gale came on.

All next day the men were busy getting up a couple of old topsails out of the forepeak and patching them up to take the place of those that had been blown away; and these when got up were close-reefed beforehand, prior to being set, as the wind was freshening again and the weather looked squally.

At the beginning of the second dog-watch the same afternoon, just when we had got everything snug aloft, it came on to blow again, although not quite so fiercely as the previous evening; and it was a case of clew up and furl with all the lighter canvas, the ship being kept under close-reefed topsails and storm staysails, heading out again to sea on the starboard tack.

Thus it continued all that night, squalls of rain and hail, with snow and sleet at intervals for variety sake, sweeping over us, and the ship having her decks washed frequently fore and aft by the heavy Southern Ocean rollers. The next morning, though, it lightened again, and we had a brief spell of fine weather until noon, when we had another buster of it. This occurred just as Captain Snaggs was getting ready to take the sun, and sent the first-mate down in the cabin to look at the chronometer, and 'stand by' in order to note the time when he sung out 'Stop!' so as to calculate our proper longitude.

The skipper could not get his observation of the sun, however, for the sky, which a moment before had been bright and clear, clouded over again in an instant; and the next minute we were all on board battling again with another specimen of "Cape Horn weather," too busy to think even where we might be or what lat.i.tude or longitude we had fetched. We might, indeed, have been anywhere, for the heavens were black as night, though it was midday, and sky and sea met each other in one vast turmoil, so that it was impossible to see half a cable's length off the ship!

So it went on for four days, the gale blowing for short periods in angry gusts and then easing down for the s.p.a.ce of a watch perhaps, the squalls alternating with spells of fine weather; until, on the fifth morning, we sailed into a comparatively calm sea, running free, with a full sheet on the starboard tack, before a bright, cheery nor'-westerly breeze.

At noon, when the skipper was able at last to take the sun for the first time for six days, he found, on working out our reckoning, that we were in lat.i.tude 58 degrees 5 minutes South, and longitude 82 degrees 10 minutes West. In other words, we were considerably to the westwards of the Horn, and fairly on the bosom of the placid Pacific, as indeed its smooth waters already testified.

"Hooray, b'ys; we've doubled the durned Cape at last, I guess!" shouted out Captain Snaggs from the break of the p.o.o.p, whither he had rushed up from below as soon as he had finished his calculation on the log slate, dancing about the deck with excitement; and, then he banged his fist down on the bra.s.s rail with a thump that almost doubled it in two, while his wiry billy-goat beard bristled out and wagged to and fro. "Brace up yer yards sharp, an' keep them bowlin's taut! Lay her ez near due north ez she'll fetch, an' we'll fix her on a bee-line fur 'Frisco. An', say, Flinders!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Send up y'r to'gallants an' r'yals, ez soon ez ye ken; an' let her rip!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"An', main deck, below thaar!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" shouted back Jan Steenbock, who was on duty here, and was already seeing about getting abaft the upper spars for spreading more sail, having overheard his order to the first-mate--"I vas here, sir!"

"Call all hands to liquor up, sirree. It ain't every day, I reckon, we gits round the Horn!"

A wild cheer burst from the men, who had cl.u.s.tered in the waist in response to this summons; and the good news of getting round the Cape and having a double allowance of grog proving too much for the majority, the rest of the day was spent in a sort of a grand jollification, the skipper and first-mate 'carrying on' in the cabin, while the crew made themselves merry in the fo'c's'le, whither an extra bottle or two of rum had been smuggled, having been got out of the steward by the expeditive of a little 'palm oil' and wheedling in about equal proportions.

I think I may say, without exaggeration, that, with the exception of Jan Steenbock, the second-mate, who showed himself a regular steady fellow all through the voyage, Tom Bullover, and lastly, though by no means least, myself, there was not a single sober man on board the ship that evening, all being more or less under the influence of liquor, from the steward Morris Jones--who, mean Welshman that he was, seemed never loth to drink at any one else's expense--up to Captain Snaggs, who, from being 'jolly' at 'eight bells,' became still more excited from renewed applications of rum by midnight; until, at length, early in the middle watch, he rushed out on deck from the cuddy absolutely mad drunk.

He was in a state of wild delirium, and his revolver, ready c.o.c.ked, was in his hand.

"Snakes an' alligators!" he yelled out, levelling the weapon at the mainmast, which he mistook for a figure in the half-light of morning, which was just then beginning to break. "I've got ye at last, ye durned n.i.g.g.e.r. Take thet, an' thet!"

Quick as lightning one report followed another, the bullets coming whistling by the galley where I was standing.

Jan Steenbock, who was on the p.o.o.p, hearing the crack of a revolver, called out something; whereupon Captain Snaggs turned round and aimed his next shot at him, although, fortunately, it missed the second-mate, on account of Jan dodging behind the companion hatchway just in the nick of time.

The captain then made a bound at the p.o.o.p ladder, and rushed up the steps swearing awfully; and, first firing at the man at the wheel, whose arm the bullet penetrated, as soon as he gained the p.o.o.p, he dived down the companion in pursuit of Jan Steenbock, who had disappeared below the b.o.o.by hatch.

For the next five minutes or more, the ship was in a state of the wildest confusion, the skipper chasing everyone he could see, and all trying to get out of his way, as he dashed after them in his frenzy, rushing, in a sort of desperate game of 'catch who catch can,' from the cabin out on to the maindeck, and then up the p.o.o.p ladder and down the companion into the cuddy again, the second-mate, the steward, and first-mate alike being a.s.sailed in turn, and each flying for life before the frantic madman. At last, just as the captain emerged from the cabin for the third time, in hot haste after the steward, the other two having succeeded in concealing themselves, Morris Jones stumbled against a coil of rope by the mainmast bitts, and, his toe at the same time catching in a ring bolt, he sprawled his length on the deck.

"Good Lord!" cried the unfortunate steward, panting out the words with his failing breath. "I'm a dead man! I'm a dead man!"

"By thunder, ye air, ye durned black n.i.g.g.e.r! Ye air, ez sure ez snakes!" screamed the skipper, in his delirious rage, mistaking the Welshman, as he had the others as well, for poor Sam, the recollection of whom seemed strangely to haunt him the moment the rum got possession of his senses. "I've swan I'd shoot ye; so, hyar goes, me joker; y'r last hour hez come, ye bet!"

With these words he pointed his revolver down at Morris Jones, as he lay rolling on the deck at his feet, and fired.

CHAPTER NINE.

WRECKED!

Although they had not been called yet, for it was only 'six bells,' the watch below had been roused out by the commotion and wild cries and yells that rang about the deck. Every man Jack had tumbled up from below, and they were all grouped about the fo'c's'le, hiding behind the galley like myself, and watching the weird scene going on aft, which, but for the maniacal rage of the captain and his murderous fury, would have been almost comical in its main incidents.

It was a regular steeplechase: the frenzied man hunted those he was after in and out of the cabin, and up the p.o.o.p ladder, and down the companion stairs, in turn, to begin again anew the same strange game, that was amusing enough save to those personally concerned!

One of the hands, though, had his wits at work besides watching what was going on; and this was Tom Bullover, my friend the carpenter.

He recollected what the steward had said on a former occasion of the captain having had a fit of the horrors from excessive drinking; and, although it was too late now to take away the skipper's revolver before he could effect any mischief with it, there was still time to prevent his doing any further harm.

So, Tom, with a coil of rope over his arm, stealthily made his way aft, and just as Captain Snaggs aimed at the prostrate body of the steward the carpenter threw a running bowline he had made in the rope round the captain's shoulders, jerking him backwards at the very moment he fired the revolver. This caused the bullet to be diverted from its aim, for it pa.s.sed through the bulwarks, instead of perforating Morris Jones'

somewhat corpulent person.

The next instant, two or three more of the men going to Tom's a.s.sistance, Captain Snaggs was dragged down on the deck, raging and foaming at the mouth; when, binding him securely hand and foot, they lifted him up and carried him into his cabin, where they strapped him down in his cot, powerless to do any more injury to himself or anyone else, until his delirium should be over.

As for the steward, he fainted dead away from fright; and it required a good deal of shaking and rubbing on the part of Tom Bullover and Jan Steenbock to bring him back to life again--the latter now coming out of the cabin, holding a slip noose similar to that used by the carpenter in snaring the skipper with, and evidently intended for the same purpose, although a trifle too late to be of service then.

Captain Snaggs himself recovered his consciousness about noon the same day, but did not have the slightest recollection of his mad orgy, the only actual sufferers from which were Morris Jones, who really had been more frightened than hurt, and the helmsman, Jim Chowder, who, in lieu of having his arm broken, as he had at first cried out, had only a slight bullet graze through the fleshy part of it; so, considering the skipper fired off no less than five shots out of the six which his revolver contained, it was a wonder more were not grievously wounded, if not killed, when he ran a-muck like that!

When Hiram Bangs and I met in the galley, shortly after the row was over, we both compared notes, the American saying that he'd been roused up from sleep, not by the noise of the shooting or rampaging about the deck, but by the sound of Sam's voice singing in the hold, and he knew at once that some mischief was going to happen, "ez it allers did when he heerd the durned ghostess afore!"

I declare he made me feel more alarmed by this remark than all that had previously occurred, and I had to raise my eyes to a.s.sure myself that Sam's banjo was yet hanging in its accustomed place over the door of the galley, before I could go on with my task of getting the men's early coffee ready, to serve out as soon as the watch was changed, 'eight bells' having been struck shortly before.

Tom Bullover, though, when presently he lounged up forward, and I told him what Hiram said, only laughed.

"It's all stuff and nonsense, Charley," he chuckled out; "you an' Hiram 'll be the death of me some day, with your yarns o' ghostesses an' such like. The skipper didn't see no sperrit as you thinks when he got mad this mornin'; it's all that cussed rum he took because he got round Cape Horn. Guess, as our mate here says, the rum 'got round' him!"

Hiram laughed, too, at this.

"Heave ahead an' carry on, old hoss," he said; "I reckon ye won't riz my dander, fur what I tells Cholly I knows for true, an' nuthin' 'll turn me agen it. Why, Tom, when I wer down Chicopee way--"

"Avast there, mate, an' give us some coffee," cried Tom, interrupting him at this point, and some others of the crew coming up at the moment, the conversation was not renewed, which I was not sorry for, Hiram's talk about ghosts not being very cheerful.

During the day, as I've said, Captain Snaggs got better, and came on deck again, looking like himself, but very pale. His face, however, seemed to have become wonderfully thinner in such a short s.p.a.ce of time, so thin indeed that he appeared to be all nose and beard, the two meeting each other in the middle, like a pair of nut-crackers!

He was much quieter, too, for he did not swear a bit, as he would have done before, at the man at the wheel, who, startled by his coming softly up the companion without previous notice, when he fancied he was lying in his cot, let the ship fall off so that she almost broached-to, in such a way as almost to carry her spars by the board!