Charlie Codmans Cruise 17

Charlie Codmans Cruise 17

"_Silence!_" roared the captain, in a passion. "If he chooses to call

you his nephew, you shall be so; do you hear that? I say, do you hear

that?" he repeated, pounding with his clenched fist upon the table

before him.

 

"Yes, sir," said our hero.

 

"Take care that you remember it then. Your name, henceforth, is Jack

Randall,--at any rate, as long as you remain aboard this ship."

 

"How long am I to remain on board, sir?" Charlie could not help asking.

 

"How long?" repeated the captain. "_Forever_, if I choose. And now as

this is the last conversation which I intend to hold with you on this

point, you will bear in mind that you are shipped on board this vessel

as a boy, and that, if you don't do your duty you'll get----"

 

We suppress the word with which the captain closed his sentence, not

being willing to soil our pages with it.

 

This was rather a hard trial for our young hero, accustomed to a

mother's gentle and affectionate words. Had he been less manly, he

would have burst into tears; but he only turned pale a little, and bit

his lips.

 

"Take him on deck, Mr. Randall, and set him to work," said the captain;

"and mind, Jack, that I don't hear any complaints of you."

 

Charlie followed the mate to the deck. He had made up his mind that he

must stay in the ship during the voyage, or, at all events until they

reached land somewhere, and resolved that, since it was forced upon

him, he would do his duty as well as he could, and so afford as little

advantage as possible to those who seemed determined to persecute him.

 

He was set to work by Randall, who told him, in a sharp tone, to "mind

his eye and keep to work, if he knew what was best for himself."

 

The work was not difficult, but Charlie's fingers were unpractised,

and he might very soon have incurred the wrath of the captain and

mate, if Bill Sturdy, the sailor whose friendly advances to our hero

have already been noticed, had not approached him, the mate being

temporarily out of earshot, and given him a little instruction.

 

"Well, my lad, what news?" inquired Bill. "Shipped for the voyage, are

you?"

 

"That's what the captain and mate say," returned Charlie.

 

"They're a pair of precious rascals," said Bill, lowering his voice,

"and it's my opinion they're well matched, so far as villainy goes."

 

"What made you ship on board the vessel?" inquired Charlie.

 

"Bless your soul, boy, I wouldn't a done it if I'd known who was in

command; leastways, if I had known a little more about him. But I

didn't ask any questions. I had just got in from a v'y'ge to Calcutta,

and happened to see one of my old shipmates, Jim Davis, walking on

the wharf. 'Bill,' says he, 'why won't you ship along of me?' I asked

him where he was bound, and he telled me to Valparaiso, on board the

Bouncing Betsey. Well, I've been most everywhere else, but I had never

been there, and reckoned I should like to see it. Besides, I'd got

tired of going to Calcutta. I've been there, man and boy, six or eight

times. It's too hot to live there some parts of the year. So I just

told him I was in for it if he was, provided there was a vacancy. I

asked him if he knew anything about the officers. He said he didn't,

but he guessed they would pass. So I just stepped into the office and

shipped. There, lad, that's the whole story. I don't mind it much

myself. They don't generally meddle much with me."

 

"Have you sailed with bad captains before?" inquired our hero.

 

"Yes, my lad, sometimes. One captain I sailed with--I was a young man

then--was Captain Maguire. He was a sort of an Irishman, I surmise, and

mighty fond of drink. He was pleasant enough when he was sober, but

that wasn't often. When he was drunk, he got into a regular fury. He

would tear round the deck like as he was crazy, and so he was after a

fashion, for he didn't seem to know, after he had got out of his fits,

what he had done when he was in 'em. One day, I remember, as I was at

work, he came up to me, and gave me a terrible thwack side of the head,

swearing like a trooper all the time."

 

"What did you do?" asked Charlie, looking up with interest into the

weather-beaten face of the old sailor.

 

"I'll tell you," said Sturdy; "you see, I'm pretty strong," glancing

at his brawny arms and herculean frame with pardonable complacency; "I

don't often meet a man I can't manage as easily as the mate can manage

you. Now the captain wasn't a large man, by any means, nor very strong,

either. As to the mates,--one of them was sick in his berth, and the

other was in another part of the ship; so I just took the captain up

in my arms, and carried him down to the cabin, kickin' and cursin', as

might be expected, and laid him down there. The officers did not see

what was goin' on, or there'd have been trouble. As for the crew, they

enjoyed it, and wouldn't a man of 'em tell; and as the captain didn't

remember anything about it the next day, I didn't get punished."

 

"Did you ever get punished?" asked Charlie.

 

"Never since I grew up, and had these to fight my way with," said Bill

Sturdy, showing his fists, which looked as if a blow from either of

them would have felled an ox. "No, my lad, these are what I call my

sledge-hammers, and I'd as lives have them to rely upon as a pair of

pistols."

 

At this point in the conversation Bill was called off to some other

part of the vessel, and the mate coming up discovered, somewhat to his

disappointment, that our hero had discharged his task in a manner which

did not admit of censure.

 

 

 

 

XVII.

 

THE RIVAL CHAMPIONS.

 

 

It is customary to divide a ship's crew into two watches, whose duty it

is to alternate in keeping a lookout at night. The first night-watch

commences at eight o'clock, and continues till midnight. This watch is

then relieved by the second, who have had an opportunity of sleeping

in the mean time, and who remain on duty till four A. M. They then

give place to the first, who are again on duty till eight in the

morning. Thus it will be seen that a part of the crew have eight hours'

sleep, while the remainder have but four. This inequality, however, is

remedied the next evening, when the hours are changed.

 

Charlie was fortunate in one respect. He was placed on the same watch

with Bill Sturdy, who had established himself, in some sort, as the

boy's protector, and did not scruple to avow it. When some of the crew

began to tease and play rough practical jokes upon Charlie,--a mode of

treatment to which boys are frequently subjected on board ship,--Bill

Sturdy interfered, and in a sonorous voice exclaimed,--

 

"Look here, shipmates, don't lay a finger on this boy!"

 

"And why not?" inquired a burly sailor, with naturally repulsive

features.

 

"Because I say so," retorted Bill Sturdy.

 

"Who is he, I should like to know, that we are to keep our distance?"

 

"I'll tell you who he is, shipmates," was the answer. "He's a boy that

the mate has entrapped on board without his own consent."

 

"Isn't he the mate's nephew?"

 

"No more than I am, though the mate chooses to call him so. He's got a

mother living in Boston, and he's her only boy. She doesn't know what

has become of him. Now, shipmates, he seems to be a fine lad, and I'm

going to stand by him for his sake and his mother's."

 

Sailors are generous when you reach their hearts, and there was a

murmur of approbation when Bill concluded.

 

But there is no rule without an exception, and that exception was the

scowling sailor who has already been mentioned. Few knew much about

him. This was his second voyage on board the Bouncing Betsey. Next to

Bill Sturdy he was the stoutest and most athletic sailor on board the

ship. During the previous voyage he had been the bully of the crew,

taking advantage of his personal strength. Now they were relieved from

his tyranny. In Bill Sturdy he had more than found his match. No one,

comparing the two men, could doubt, that in a contest, the odds would

be decidedly in favor of Bill. Antonio, for this was his name, for he

was a Spaniard by birth, could not help seeing the changed state of

affairs. Now no one likes to be eclipsed, and to see the authority

passing from his hands into those of another. Certainly Antonio did not

behold this transfer with indifference. He could not brook holding the

second place, where the first had been his. But how could he help it?

Very evidently the opinions of the crew favored Bill Sturdy; not only

because they believed him to excel Antonio in physical qualities, which

hold a high value in the eyes of a sailor, but because he had, as yet,

shown no disposition to abuse his power. Antonio was resolved not to

yield without a struggle, and therefore determined to take the first

occasion to pick a quarrel with his rival, as this would give him an

opportunity to measure his strength with him. Antonio did not see, what

was evident to all else, that his rival was undeniably his superior

in prowess. People are generally slow to admit their own inferiority.

That is only natural. He hoped, therefore, that he should be able to

re-establish his supremacy by coming off a conqueror in the contest

which he had determined to do all in his power to bring about.

 

Antonio's attention had not been especially called to our hero, until

he heard Bill Sturdy avow his determination to take him under his

protection. Then, in a spirit of perverseness, and because he thought

it would open the way for the trial of strength which he courted, he

resolved to oppose him, and openly espouse the other side.

 

Accordingly, when the murmurs of applause, which had been elicited by

his rival's frank and generous appeal to the sympathies of the crew,

had subsided, Antonio looked round on the rough faces which surrounded

him, and growled,--

 

"Well, shipmates, are you going to submit to what this fellow says? He

dares you to touch this snivelling milk-sop of a boy."