The Island Treasure Part 2

This was the song the cook chaunted, with that sad intonation of voice for which, somehow or other, the light-hearted African race always seem to have such a strange predilection. Sam touching the strings of the banjo in harmonious chords to a sort of running arpeggio movement:--

"Oh, down in Alabama, 'fore I wer sot free, I lubbed a p'ooty yaller girl, an' fought dat she lubbed me; But she am proob unconstant, an' leff me hyar to tell How my pore hart am' breakin' fo' croo-el Nancy Bell!"

He wound up with a resounding "tw.a.n.g" at the end of the bar, before giving the chorus--

"Den cheer up, Sam! Don' let yer sperrits go down; Dere's many a gal dat I'se know wal am waitin' fur you in de town!"

"I fancy you do want cheering up, Sam," said I, waiting till he had finished the verse. "The skipper's in a regular tantrum about you, and says you're to come aft at once."

"My golly, sonny!" cried he, turning round, with a grin on his ebony face, that showed all his ivories, and looking in no whit alarmed, as I expected, at the captain's summons, proceeding to reach up one of his long arms, which were like those of a monkey, and hang the banjo on to a cleat close to the roof of the galley, out of harm's way. "What am de muss about?"

"Because you didn't turn out on deck when all hands were called just now to reef topsails," I explained. "The 'old man' is in a fine pa.s.sion, I can tell you, though he didn't notice your not being there at first. It was that mean sneak, the first-mate, that told him, on purpose to get you into a row."

"Ah-ha! Jess so, I sabby," said Sam, getting up from his seat; although he did not look any the taller for standing, being a little man and having short legs, which, however, were compensated for by his long arms and broad shoulders, denoting great strength. "I'se know what dat mean cuss do it fo'--'cause I wouldn't bring no hot coffee to um cabin fo'

him dis mornin'. Me tell him dat lazy stoo'ad's place do dat; me ship's cook, not one black n.i.g.g.ah slabe!"

"He's always at me, too," I chorussed, in sympathy with this complaint.

"Mr Flinders is harder on me than even Captain Snaggs, and he's bad enough, in all conscience."

"Dat am true," replied the cook, who had been my only friend since I had been on board, none of the others, officers or men, having a kind word for me, save the carpenter, a st.u.r.dy Englishman, named Tom Bullover, and one of the Yankee sailors, Hiram Bangs, who seemed rather good-natured, and told me he came from some place 'down Chicopee way'--wherever that might be. "But, never yer mind, sonny; needer de cap'n nor dat brute ob a mate ken kill us no nohow."

"'Cheer up, Sam! Don' let your 'perrits go down--'

"Guess, dough, I'se better go aft at once, or Cap'n Snaggs 'll bust his biler!"

And so, humming away still at the refrain of his favourite ditty, he clambered along the bulwarks, making his way to the p.o.o.p, where the captain, I could see, as I peered round the corner of the galley, was still waiting for him at the top of the ladder on the weather side, holding on to the bra.s.s rail with one hand, and clutching hold of a stay with the other.

I pitied the negro; but, of course, I couldn't help him. All I could do was to look on, by no means an uninterested spectator, though keeping cautiously out of sight of Captain Snaggs' watchful eye.

The wind was not making such a noise through the shrouds now, for one could distinguish above its moaning whistle the wash of the waves as they broke with a rippling roar and splashed against the side like the measured strokes of a sledge-hammer on the ship breasting them with her bluff bows, and contemptuously sailing on, spurning them beneath her fore foot; so, I was able to hear and see nearly all that pa.s.sed, albeit I had to strain my ears occasionally to catch a word here and there.

He had waited so long that perhaps his anger had cooled down a bit by this time, for Captain Snaggs began on Sammy much more quietly than I expected from his outburst against him when I was up on the p.o.o.p.

He was quite mild, indeed, for him, as I had learnt already, to my cost, during the short acquaintance I had of his temper since we had left the Mersey--as mild as a sucking dove, with a vengeance!

"Ye durned n.i.g.g.e.r!" he commenced; "what d'ye mean by not answerin' when I hailed ye?"

"Me no hear yer, ma.s.s' cap'n."

"Not haar me, by thunder," screeched the other, raising his voice. "Ye aren't deaf, air ye?"

"Golly, yeth, ma.s.sa," said Sam eagerly. "I'se def as post."

"Ye ken haar, though, when grog time comes round, I guess!" retorted the captain. "Whar wer ye when 'all hands' wer called jest now?"

"Down in de bread room, gettin' out de men's grub wid de stooard,"

answered the cook, with much coolness; "me no hear 'all hands' call."

"Thet's a lie," said Captain Snaggs, furiously. "The stooard wer up hyar on deck, so ye couldn't hev been down below with him, ye durned n.i.g.g.e.r! I've a tarnation good mind to seize ye up an' give ye four dozen right away."

"Me no n.i.g.g.ah slabe," said Sam proudly, drawing himself up and looking up at the captain, as if daring him to do his worst. "I'se one 'spectacle culled gen'leman, sah!"

"Ho! ho! thet's prime!" laughed out the skipper, astounded at his cheek; while the first-mate sn.i.g.g.e.red his aggravating "he! he!" behind him.

"Oh, ye're 'a 'spectable coloured gentleman,' air ye?"

"Yeth, ma.s.sa; me free Jamaica born, an' no slabe," repeated Sam, courageously, the first-mate's chuckle having put him on his mettle more than the captain's sneer. "I'se a free man!"

"Guess ye've come to the wrong shop then, my bo," said Captain Snaggs; "ye'll find ye ain't free hyar, fur I'm boss aboard this air ship, an'

want all hands to know it. Ye shipped as cook, hey?"

"Yeth, ma.s.sa," replied Sam, as st.u.r.dily as ever. "I'se jine as cook fo'

de v'yage to 'Frisco at ten dollar de month."

"Then, Master Sam, Sammy, Sambo Clubfoot, ye'll be kinder good enuff to take yer traps out of the galley an' go furrud into the fo'c's'le, as one of the foremast hands. As ye wouldn't turn out when all hands wer called jist now, ye'll hev the advantage of doin' so right through now, watch in an' watch out all the v'yage! D'ye hear thet, Sam Clubfoot?"

"Dat not my name," said the other indignantly. "I'se chris'en Sam Jedfoot."

"Well then, d'ye underconstubble what I've sed, Mister Jedfoot, if ye like thet better--thet ye're cook no longer, an' will hev to muster with the rest of the crew in the port watch? I'll put him with ye, Flinders, I know ye hev a hankerin' arter him," observed the skipper, in a stage whisper, to the first-mate, who sn.i.g.g.e.red his approval of this arrangement. "D'ye understand thet, ye durned n.i.g.g.e.r, or, hev yer ears got frizzed agen, makin' ye feel kinder deaf?"

"I'se he-ah, cap'n," replied Sam sullenly, as he turned away from under the break of the p.o.o.p, and made his way forward again to where I stood watching his now changed face, all the mirth and merriment having gone out of it, making him look quite savage--an ugly customer, I thought, for any one to tackle with whom he might have enmity. "I'se he-ah fo'

suah, an' won't forget neider, yer bet!"

CHAPTER THREE.

A TERRIBLE REVENGE.

"I'm very sorry for you, Sam," I said, when he came up again to the galley, making his way forward much more slowly than he had scrambled aft to interview the skipper. "Captain Snaggs is a regular tyrant to treat you so; but, never mind, Sam, we'll soon have you back in your old place here, for I don't think there's any fellow in the ship that knows anything about cooking like you!"

"Dunno spec dere's am," he replied, disconsolately, speaking in a melancholy tone of voice, as if overcome at the idea of surrendering his regal post of king of the caboose--the cook's berth on board a merchant vessel being one of authority, as well as having a good deal of licence attached to it; besides giving the holder thereof an importance in the eyes of the crew, only second to that of the skipper, or his deputy, the first-mate. The next moment, however, the darkey's face brightened, from some happy thought or other that apparently crossed his mind; and, his month gradually opening with a broad grin, that displayed a double row of beautifully even white teeth, which would have aroused the envy of a fashionable dentist, he broke into a huge guffaw, that I was almost afraid the captain would hear away aft on the p.o.o.p.

"Hoo-hoo! Yah-yah!" he laughed, with all that hearty abandon of his race, bending his body and slapping his hands to his shins, as if to hold himself up. "Golly! me nebber fought ob dat afore! Hoo-hoo!

Yah-yah! I'se most ready to die wid laffin! Hoo-hoo!"

"Why, Sam," I cried, "what's the matter now?"

"Hoo-hoo! Cholly," he at last managed to get out between his convulsive fits of laughter. "Yer jess wait till cap'n want um grub; an' den-- hoo-hoo!--yer see one fine joke! My gosh! Cholly, I'se one big fool not tink ob dat afore! Guess it'll do prime. Yah-yah! Won't de 'ole man' squirm! Hoo-hoo!"

"Oh, Sam!" I exclaimed, a horrid thought occurring to me all at once.

"You wouldn't poison him?"

The little negro drew himself up with a native sort of dignity, that made him appear quite tall.

"I'se hab black 'kin, an no white like yer's, Cholly," said he gravely, wiping away the tears that had run down his cheeks in the exuberance of his recent merriment. "But, b'y, yer may beleeb de troot, dat if I'se hab black 'kin, my hart ain't ob dat colour; an' I wouldn't pizen no man, if he wer de debbel hisself. No, Cholly, I'se fight fair, an'

dunno wish to go behint no man's back!"

"I'm sure I beg your pardon," said I, seeing that I had insulted him by my suspicion; "but what are you going to do to pay the skipper out?"