CHAPTER XXVIII
IN COMMAND
Austin was quite aware that he had his work cut out when he was left incommand of the _Cumbria_, with half her crew sick, and her skipperraving deliriously. He knew very little about medicine, and certainly nomore about what he termed the astronomical side of navigation, and afterseveral attempts decided that it was beyond his ability to take anaccurate solar observation. There were, however, other, though not veryreliable, means of approximately ascertaining the ship's position whichhe was acquainted with, and he nerved himself afresh for a grapple withwhat most men would, under the circumstances, have consideredinsuperable difficulties.
He had two Spaniards who could be trusted to keep the steamer more orless on the course he gave them, while the _Cumbria_ steerd handily,which is more than all steamers do. There was a large-scale chart,considerably mildewed, but still legible, in the skipper's room, as wellas a pilot guide to the West African coast, while the patent log thattowed astern to record the distance run appeared to be workingaccurately. He could thus, it was evident, depend in some degree uponwhat is termed dead reckoning, which is comparatively reliable in thecase of short distances run in the vicinity of a high, well lightedcoast. The one the _Cumbria_ steamed along was, however, not lighted atall, and most of it scarcely rose a foot above sea-level, while when hehad ruled the line she was presumed to be travelling on across thechart, and pricked off the distance the patent log told him she had run,there remained the question how far the tide and the Guinea stream haddeflected it, and whether the steering and her compasses could betrusted.
It was also rather an important question; and when he had, on severaloccasions, peered for an hour at a time through Jefferson's glasses insearch of a cape or island which the chart indicated should be met with,and saw only a hazy line of beach, or a dingy smear on the horizon whichmight be mangroves, or, quite as likely, a trail of mist, theprobability of his ever reaching the Canaries seemed very remote indeed.There would, he fancied, be no great difficulty in obtaining a mate andtwo or three seamen from one of the steamers he came across, but in thatcase the strangers would expect half the value of the _Cumbria_'s hulland cargo, and very likely make their claim to it good. He was alsoaware that more experienced skippers than he was had put their shipsashore upon that coast. But what troubled him most was the fact that ifhe lost sight of it, or found no point that he could identify, he wouldhave nothing to start from when he must boldly head her out across theopen ocean.
She had rolled along at six to eight knots, with the big pump going, forseveral days, when a trail of smoke crept out of the Western horizon.Austin watched it anxiously, and when at last a strip of black hull anda yellow funnel grew into shape beneath it, summoned the donkey-man, andwith his assistance, which was not especially reliable, worried over thesignal code painted on the flag rack in the wheel-house when he hadstopped the engines. It was almost obliterated, and most of the flagsthemselves were missing; but between them they picked out sundry stripsof mildewed bunting and sent them up to the masthead. The littleWest-coast mailboat was close alongside now, and flags also commenced toflutter up between her masts, while her whistle screamed in long andshort blasts. Austin, anxious as he was, laughed a little.
"That is apparently the Morse code, and it's unfortunate that neither ofus understands it," he said. "I presume it means that they can makenothing of our flags, and one could hardly blame them. Any way, we havegot to stop her."
Tom grinned as he pulled an armful of tattered ensigns out of a locker."This one should do the trick," he said. "I'd start the whistle."
Austin drew the lanyard, and when the ensign blew out on the hot airUnion down, the mailboat stopped, and, considering that they weresteamboat men, her crew had a white gig over in a very creditable time.She came flying towards the _Cumbria_ with four negroes at the oars, andwhen she slid alongside a young mate in trim white uniform came up arope.
"You might have slung me the ladder down," he said, gazing about him inblank astonishment. "Paint is evidently scarce where you come from. I'veseen smarter craft in a wrecker's yard. Still, I can't stop heretalking. What do you want?"
"A doctor, for one thing," said Austin, to gain time.
"We have half the crew down in the forecastle."
The mate walked to the rails and shouted to his boat-boys, while, whenthe gig slid away, he pointed up at the drooping flags as he turned toAustin.
"I suppose it's artistic, the colouring, I mean," he said.
"Still, it's a trifle difficult to make out by either code." Austinlaughed. "Come into my room and have a drink. There are one or twothings I want to ask you."
Five minutes later he spread a mildewed chart on the table as they satwith a bottle of Jacinta's wine before them.
"Now," he said, "if you will tell me exactly where we are, I'd be muchobliged to you."
"You don't know?" and the mate looked at him curiously.
"Since you can't undertake any salvage operations with the mails onboard, I don't mind admitting that I'm far from sure. You see, we haveonly one navigator, and if you were forward just now you would hear himraving. I've got to take her somehow--on dead reckoning--to theCanaries."
The mate opened his mouth and gasped. "Well," he said simply, "may I be----!"
"I suppose that's natural, but it isn't much use to me. I've beencreeping along the coast, so far, but it's evident that if I stick to itI won't reach Las Palmas. I want a definite point from which to make astart for the ocean run."
The mate pulled a pin out of the chart, and, measuring with thedividers, stuck it in again. "You're not quite so much out as I expectedyou would be," he said. "It's a straight run to the Isleta, GrandCanary. Whether you'll ever get there with the compass and the patentlog is another matter, though, of course, if you go on long enough,you'll fetch some part of America. I don't want to be undulyinquisitive, but you will have lost, at least, an hour of our timebefore I put Pills on board again, and I really think there is a littleyou should tell me."
Austin briefly outlined his adventures, and when he had finished themate brought his fist down with a bang on the table.
"Well," he said, "you have evidently excellent nerves of your own, andI'm not quite so sure as I was that you'll never get her home. I don'tmind admitting now that at first I thought you were crazy. It's evidentthat your compass and patent log are all right, but you'll have to getyour latitude and longitude, at least, occasionally, and I'll bend onsome signals any skipper you come across would understand. If he'sparticularly good-natured he might chalk it on a board."
He stopped a moment with a little sardonic smile. "As a matter of fact,it's not quite so unusual a question as you might suppose."
Austin thanked him profusely, and felt a good deal easier when he andthe mailboat's doctor, who arrived presently and gave him good advice,went away. Then, with a blast of her whistle, the _Cumbria_ steamed onto the West again, and it was three or four days later, and she wasplunging along with dripping forecastle at a little over six knotsagainst the trades, when Austin had trouble with Jefferson. He wasasleep in his room, aft, and, awakening suddenly, wondered for a momentor two what was wrong, until it dawned on him that it was the unusualquietness which had roused him. Then he sprang from his berth andhastened out on deck, for it was evident that the engines had stopped.
There was clear moonlight overhead, and the ship was rolling heavily,while as he looked forward a clamour broke out beneath the bridge, wheregrimy men came scrambling up from the stoke-hole gratings. It was lightenough for him to see their blackened faces and their excited gestures.Other men were, he fancied, from the pattering on the iron deck, alsomoving in that direction from the forecastle; but what most astonishedhim was the sight of a gaunt white figure pacing up and down the bridge.While he gazed at it, Wall-eye came running towards him breathlessly.
"The SeA+-or Jefferson has stopped the ship!" he said. "He has a pistol,and Maccario, who is shut up in the wheel-house, shouts us that he willgo ba
ck to Africa again!"
Austin, who knew a little about malarial fever by this time, ranforward, and met Tom at the foot of the bridge ladder. The latter laid agrimy finger on his forehead significantly.
"Right off his dot! I don't know what's to be done," he said. "It wouldbe easier if he hadn't that pistol."
A gong clanged beneath them while they considered it, and Tom shook hishead. "He has been ringing all over the telegraph, from full speed tohard astern," he said. "I don't know if he'd give you the pistol, butwhen I got half way up the ladder he said he'd put a bullet into me. Anyway, if you went up and talked to him while I crawled up quiet by theother ladder, I might get him by the foot or slip in behind him."
Austin was by no means anxious to face the pistol, but it was evidentthat something must be done, and he went up the ladder as unconcernedlyas he could. When he reached the head of it Jefferson beat upon thewheel-house window with his fist.
"What's her head to the westwards for?" he said. "Port, hard over! Can'tyou hear inside there?"
The steering engine rattled, and it was evident that the helmsman wasbadly afraid, but in another moment Jefferson had swung away from thewheel-house, and was wrenching at the telegraph again.
"What's the matter with these engines?" he said. "I want her backedwhile I swing her under a ported helm. I'll plug somebody certain ifthis is a mutiny."
He opened the big revolver, and closed it with a suggestive click, whileit cost Austin an effort to walk quietly along the bridge. Jefferson'seyes were glittering, his hair hung down on his face, which was grey anddrawn, dark with perspiration, and his hands and limbs were quivering.His voice, however, although a trifle hoarser, was very like his usualone, so much so, in fact, that Austin found it difficult to believe theman's mind was unhinged by fever. He whirled round when he heard Austin,without a trace of recognition in his eyes.
"Now," he said, "why can't I get what I want done?"
"You're very sick," said Austin quietly. "Hadn't you better go back tobed?"
Jefferson laughed. "Yes," he said, "I guess I am, or these bruteswouldn't try to take advantage of me. Still, in another minute you'regoing to see me make a hole in somebody!"
He leaned heavily on the bridge rails, with the pistol glinting in hishand, and Austin endeavoured to answer him soothingly.
"What do you want to go back to Africa for?" he said. "There wouldn't beany difficulty about it if it was necessary."
"Funnel-paint's there. They brought me away when I was sick, or I'd havekilled him." He made a little gesture, and dropped his hoarse voice."You see, I had a partner who stood by me through everything, andFunnel-paint sent down a ---- rotting nigger!"
"Your partner's all right," said Austin, who saw that Jefferson was asfar from recognising him as ever. "I've excellent reasons for being sureof it."
Jefferson leaned towards him confidentially, with one hand on the rails.
"It hasn't come out, but it's bound to get him. The nigger had his armsround him. Then he'll have to hide in a dark hole where nobody can seehim, while the flesh rots off him, until he dies."
Austin could not help a shiver. He knew the thing might happen, and herealised now that it had also been in Jefferson's mind. Still, it was,in the meanwhile, his business to get the pistol from the latter, andthen put him in his berth, by force, if necessary.
"The difficulty is that you can't kill a man twice," he said. "I seem tohave a notion that you hove a stick of dynamite into Funnel-paint'scanoe."
"I could have done, and I meant to, but my partner was with me. I had tohumour him. That man stood by me."
Austin stood still, looking at him, a little bewildered by it all. Themailboat doctors and some of the traders he had met at Las Palmas hadmore than once related curious examples of the mental aberration whichnow and then results from malarial fever. Still, Jefferson, whom he hadleft scarcely fit to raise his head in his bunk, was now apparentlyalmost sensible; and, what was more astonishing, able, at least, to walkabout. Then, when he wondered how he was to get his comrade down fromthe bridge, the latter turned to him with a sudden change of mood.
"You're keeping me talking while they play some trick on me," he said."All right! In another moment you'll be sorry."
The pistol went up, and Austin set his lips while a little shiver ofdismay ran through him. The ladder he had come up by was some distanceaway, the wheel-house, at least, as far, and he stood clear in themoonlight, realising that the first move he made would probably lead toJefferson squeezing the trigger. Then, with sudden bitterness, heremembered what, it seemed, was in his blood, and felt astonished thathe should be troubled by physical fear. It would be a swifter andcleaner end if his comrade killed him there. That consideration,however, only appealed to his reason, and the reflection came thatJefferson would probably never shake off the recollection of what he haddone; and, knowing it was safest, he braced himself to stand motionless,while the perspiration dripped from him, steadily eyeing thefever-crazed man.
"If you will let me tell you why we are steaming west it would save agood deal of trouble," he said, as soothingly as he could, though hisvoice shook. "You see, you were too sick to understand, and you're notvery well yet."
Jefferson, somewhat to his astonishment, seemed willing to listen, buthe was, unfortunately, far from the side of the bridge below whichAustin surmised that Tom was crouching. He risked a glance round, butthe helmsman evidently dare not leave the wheel-house, for which Austincould not blame him, and the Spaniards stood clustered together gazingup at them from below. Austin decided that if he signed or called tothem Jefferson would use the pistol, though he fancied that one of themwas trying to make him understand something.
Then suddenly a shadowy form glided out from behind the wheel-house,where Jefferson could not see it. There was a rush of feet, and aspring, and Jefferson went down heavily with another man, who wound hisarms round him. They rolled against the bridge rails, and a breathlessvoice called to Austin.
"Get hold of the pistol!" it said.
Austin wrenched it from his comrade; men came scrambling up the ladder,and in another moment or two they had Jefferson helpless, and set aboutcarrying him to his room. When they laid him in his berth his strengthseemed to suddenly melt away, and he lay limp and still, only babblingincoherently. Austin ventured to give him a sedative, and then, leavingWall-eye to watch him, went out on deck. Tom, who was waiting for him,made a little deprecatory gesture.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Austin, but he never came near my side of the bridge,"he said. "If I had got up he'd have dropped me with the pistol, and thatwouldn't have done much good to anybody."
"Of course not," said Austin. "I was uncommonly thankful when Bill gothold of him. Send him along to my room, and then start your engines."
In another two or three minutes the _Cumbria_ was steaming west again,and Bill, the fireman, stood, somewhat sheepishly, in the doorway ofAustin's room.
"I owe you a good deal, and when the time comes I'll endeavour toremember it," said the latter. "Still, I don't want Mr. Jefferson everto know anything about the thing. You did it cleverly."
Bill grinned. "Well," he said, "I'm quite glad I did. I felt I had to dosomething for my five pounds, any way."
It dawned upon Austin that once or twice, when he had somewhat riskywork to do, Bill had been near him.
"What five pounds?" he asked.
"The five pounds she shoved into my hand one night on board the_Estremedura_--no--the fact is, I'm feeling a little shaky, and I don'tquite know what I'm saying. The getting hold of Mr. Jefferson has upsetme. When you think of it, it's only natural."
"Then it has come on very suddenly," said Austin. "You seemed all righta moment or two ago. Am I to understand that somebody gave you fivepounds to look after me?"
It was evident to Bill that there was nothing to be gained by furtherreticence, and he edged out of the doorway, grinning more broadly thanever.
"Well," he said, "I guess she meant you, though she said it wa
s both ofyou. Still, you won't tell her, or I sha'n't get any more."
He had vanished before Austin could ask another question, but the matterwas quite clear to the latter, and his face grew hot while a littlethrill of satisfaction ran through him as he recognised that Jacinta hadfelt it worth while to do what she could to ensure his safety. Then heremembered something else, and his face grew hard as he pulled off hisjacket and glanced at his bare arm.
He had torn and abraded it heaving in oil and coal, and the gunboat'ssurgeon had warned him that it was advisable to keep his skin unbroken.There were several half-hardened scars upon it now, and another had beentorn away when he fell against the rail in a heavy lurch a day or twoearlier. He had worn no jacket at the time. He had since noticed acurious tingling sensation in that part of his arm, and, holding itnearer the lamp, he saw that the flesh was inflamed about the wound.There was no doubt about the fact. When he pressed it with his thumb allthe lower arm was sore, and he let it fall limply to his side, and satdown with a little groan. The horrible thing he shrank from had, itseemed, come upon him. He sat very still for half an hour, grapplingwith a numbing sense of dismay, and then, with a little shake of hisshoulders, went back to the bridge, for he had still a duty to hiscomrades.
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