by E. H. Visiak
We had prosperous runs after we were gotten into the Trade wind, our ship sailing smooth in sunny warm weather (the nights delicious cool), and saw one of the Canary Islands (being the first land since Cape Finisterre), in the third week after we left the Channel, and on the next day, in the evening, we made the Island Teneriffe, where we designed to put in for some provisions.
Were to the N.W. of the Island, standing in for Oratavia, the wind being N.E.; but at supper the Captain seemed doubtful whether it had not been better to go to Santa Cruz, as being the better harbour, since if the wind veered to the west, when we lay in the other road, we should not be able to ride. Mr Falconer being asked his his opinion, answered:. “When the wind is N.W., all ships must get up their anchors, or slip their cables, at Oratavia.”
That put the captain in a choler, which was no new thing with Mr. Falconer. “Why, this is Poll the Parrot," cried he and was running on with the like insulting expressions; but Mr Huxtable interposed. “Yet Santa Cruz, you know, is an ill port also," said he, "if the N.W. wind grows stormy.”
“That’s true,” said the Captain; but Oratavia is worse with a westerly wind.”
Hereupon, Mr Falconer, who ate but little and drank less, asked leave to betake himself on deck; “With all my heart,” said the Captain satirically.
“Well,” said he, when he was gone, “we have heard tell how the Egyptians kept a skeleton at their banquets; but ’tis not everybody that hath a living one.”
Mr. Huxtable, misliking this manner of talk, presently rose up and went out, and I followed him, leaving the Captain venting his discontent in angry accents.
I was eager to see if the Pike was visible, which before had been hid with mist and clouds, and, looking up in the bright moonlight, I saw that the mist hung as an immense dim white curtain upon the land.
It rose high even unto to the lofty clouds; but, on lifting up my eyes, I was amazed; for what I first took to be a cloud reared in the form of a mountain-peak above the rest, I perceived to be, indeed the summit of a great steep mountain, capped with snow; and I saw the ships standing at the base across the sea as little play-ships, so small they looked beneath the towering mountain.
“The Pike!” cried I, pointing with my finger.
“Ay,” said Mr Huxtable, “it hath a beautiful tapering top. It raises my clouded thoughts,” said he, with a musing tone.
The light presently grew less, the moon being obscured with clouds. The mountain faded away from our ken; the little ships vanished.
“Alas that it is gone!”, said I.
“Nay,” said he, “It is come! Let it be an image in your mind. When you did look upon it outwardly you could not see it there, in your mind; but now you see it. So in time of trouble when you are declined in spirit, or when you’re dazzled with worldly pleasures, you shall conjure up the Pike of Teneriffe - yea, contemplate a still greater mountain in your thoughts, and so raise them up above the clouds. But ’tis late, and time you was abed. Come, be off with you, or you will be too heavy in the morning, I shall go to rest myself presently, and so will our ship also; for we shall lay by, and go in after sunrise.”
So I went; but I could not sleep upon lying down, as I was wont to do; though the prospect of the mountain and Mr Huxtable’s noble admonition might well have composed my spirits. I lay broad awake; and soon my thoughts began to turn as a wheel - nay, as a myriad wheels, spinning out strange imaginations. To stay the mind’s engine is a mighty work, compared with which the power to banish a single haunting thought (which thanks to Mr. Huxtable’s admonishing, I now possessed) is not so hard. The more I did endeavour to stop this endless coil, the worse it grew.
Thus for hours, I lay restlessly turning, with fever and weariness nigh desperation; till, at last, a notion came into my head, that I had received a secret hint, or impression upon my mind, for some cause to go aloft.
That much was repugnant to me very, both for a fear of Mr. Huxtable’ s censure if I should be discovered, and also for a fearful foreboding I felt of something unknown: so that I long strove with it, endeavouring to have conquered it, or to have banished it from my mind, hoping to have slid off to sleep in the midst. And so, anon, I might have done, for I began to lie easier; but a rat run across my cabin floor, which effectually aroused me.
I rose up, and having put my cloak, went fearfully forth into the dim ‘tween decks (my cabin being near the round-house), designed to have gone on deck. I moved along, treading soft, but coming to the foot of the hatchway, on a sudden, I stood, and quickly withdrew myself in a corner.
Somebody, or something, was approaching the way I came, making a shuffling, unsteady sound that set my heart a-drumming. I was comforted presently to see it was but a man (whatever I had feared), and a little ashamed of myself, too. As he came into the shaft of moonlight cast down the hatch, I saw it was Obadiah Moon bearing a little pan that, as I did observe, had held some fish. By his look, as well as by his staggering gait, ’twas plain he was drunk.
He mounted up the steps; and, after waiting until he was gone aloft, I did also. But there stood near the main-mast two or three of the watch in a chat; and though they spoke but low, I heard something which made me more willing, yet fearful, to have heard more, for it seemed to be concerning some strange matter, as of a haunting and apparition in the ship.
I endeavoured to have approached nearer, moving soft in the shadow cast by the sail, without being descried; but suddenly one of them, being the boatswain, saw me; and, pointing his finger at me, discovered me to the rest. They were all staring broad at me,as if they were perfectly surprised and distraught with fear.
I perceived that they took me for a ghost in my long black cloak, standing, as I did, between the shadow and the shine, and, after holding fixed in the posture of terror, they began to edge away all huddled under the poop. But, however, I spoke to them, asking what the matter was, which discovered their error. They appeared sensible they made but a foolish figure; especially the boatswain, that was somewhat of a great man among them; who, indeed, looked very rueful, while he stood gaping on me.
But it came into my mind how odd a thing was this, that, after my taking Obadiah Moon for a spirit, they did immediately follow suit, thinking the like of me; my sense of which tickled me so (the more, I suppose, because I was so wrought up), I burst out a-laughing.
That was too much for the boatswain, who began to curse and swear at me, supposing my laughter was at them. I assured him I was not laughing at him, or at any of them, but because of a notion that had come into my thoughts. Whereupon, “I wishes,” said he fiercely, “as that you and your notions was sunk in the sea. And what brings you on deck, I wonder, in the middle of the night? Was you come to spy on us? What ha’ we done, I wonder, to make you so suspicious? Belike there’s a notion be come into your thoughts” (says he, mocking me),”that we be all rogues and pirates, and have some villainous design upon you. If you takes any more of your notions, I think I shall take such a notion as the effects on’t will make you swallow your laughter down until it choke you.”
The other handsomely applauded him, laughing and jeering at me after an extravagant manner; which, restoring him to his own conceit, put him in a better temper; but, following on his insulting speech, this stung me sufficiently.
“But what made you so ready to see a ghost?” said I, returning quick upon him. “To be sure you must have an uneasy conscience to be frightened at nothing!”
“Uneasy conscience?” cries he, stamping with his foot. “Damme! I’ll wager I have a better conscience than some of you has aboard of this ship; else, how come she be tainted? It was never so before, or I should ha’ known on’t, having acquaintance with two of them that went to sea in her before, in her last voyage. And there’s that aboard as ought not to be, nor aboard any craft on float the broad ocean. It ain’t earthly, and it ain’t natural, and it ain’t wholesome, deny it who will! I say nought against the Captain,” (said he, hushing his voice). “No, nor against Mr Huxta
ble neither, as is an honest gentleman and an hearty, that’s true; and there’s not a man of us but would serve him to the hazard of his life, and go with him to the world’s end. He hath no hand in’t, I warrants you! No, it an’t him, and it an’t the Captain; but there’s some of us have a shrewd notion who ’tis,” said he, lifting his hand and pointing up behind him, where Mr. Falconer stood on the poop.
“And, I’ll not be above telling you I meant no offence in what I says to you,” said he with a milder tone. “But we was much troubled and perplexed in our thoughts what to think on’t; and, as to being frightened at it, I be as bold as any; but a ghost is another thing.”
“Maybe what the cook saw was nothing else but this young gentleman stirring down below," said one of the seamen. “Did you happen to go down in the fore-peak, young master?”
“No,” said I, “but I saw Obadiah Moon coming that way. Perhaps he was this ghost.”
I had scarce spoken when Obadiah himself appeared, stepping, with unsteady gait, along the main-deck. Next moment, oversetting as the ship rolled, he fell down all in a heap, and lay cursing and swearing. But, collecting himself presently, he rose up, after fetching some ineffectual endeavours, and stayed himself by gripping hold upon the gunnel. Thereupon, surveying us with his blear blinking eyes, “Hi! what’s in the wind, messmates?” cried he. “What be this here perdition great consult under the moon?”
“We was discoursing of the ghost,” said the seaman who had spoken to me.
“Ghost!” said Moon. “It’s all moonshine. There ain’t no such thing. Feared on a ghost - was ye?”
I’ll sing ye a toon
Of a ghost i’ the moon.”
So he run on, singing and swaggering in a tipsy bravado, rolling his eyes round on the men, that stood grinning on him, till, at last, he fixed them on me. Thereupon, letting go his hold, he came, staggering towards me across the deck.
“Here is a young gentleman of edication hath no fear of ghosts,” said he. “Have ye, messmate?”
While he spoke, he thrust his face, all bloated with drinking, near to mine, his breath coming hot and villainous, so that I stepped some paces back to give him a wider berth. Whereupon, he asked if I thought he had the plague on him, since I seemed so frightened of him; and, with an horrible imprecation, “I never could a-bear with younkers aboard ship,” said he. “Look ‘e now, how I serves ‘em!”
With this, lowering grim, he pulled out his seaman’s knife, and attempted to have unfastened the clasp; but, while he puzzled over it with his fumbling fingers, the boatswain snatched it smartly from his hand. “Let be, you drunken fool, you,” said he, “And be off with you, or I’ll gave you a heave, you drunken swab!”
This brought him up quick; and he protested that he was but making a little merry and never intended me any harm, that he had taken a liking for me, and such maudlin stuff. He began to move away under the boatswain’s eye, his voice dwindling in tipsy complaints, but as he got further off, coming louder in curses. However, he had not gone far but he stumbled and fell upon the deck, and lay, making no endeavour to rise.
While I went, I looked and saw Mr Falconer, having taken no notice of this wild business, standing on the poop in a posture remarkably rigid; and his face, that was turned towards the sea, appearing more than ordinary pale in the moon, looked white and stiff like a mask.
I lay me down again; but, though after a manner I did sleep, ’twas worse than waking, being all troubled and broken with crazy dreams; wherein sometimes my grandfather, sometimes Obadiah played a part, and sometimes both in one, compacted into a sort of dreadful comic mime.
At last, some time after dawn, I dreamt that we were shipwrecked; and, waking up, I found that our ship indeed violently tossed and rolled, and that the day was cloudy. I suffered sorely, being my first knowledge of that miserable disorder of sea-sickness, and my head ached sufficiently. I was too sick and weak to rise when the hour came.
The bell rung to breakfast, and some time after Mr Huxtable came in to see for me.
On learning what I ailed, he went and gave me to drink of some drug which made me easier, though still very queasy. I complained of the labouring of the ship, and asked him were we not yet nigh our port, when I might be conveyed ashore.
He told me that the wind having veered into the N.W., we were quite frustrated from going to Oratavia, and were beating around for the other port, adding for my comfort, that the sea would be less when we were on the east side of the island.
“Do you rest still,” said he, wrapping another blanket, that he had brought, around me, “and keep yourself well covered. You have taken a chill, but the draught I have given you will allay your fever, and should compose you to sleep. Did you feel cold on deck last night?”
This took me by surprise; for I supposed his meaning to be when I was on the deck after, and not before my going to rest.
“O!” said I, “Did Mr Falconer tell you?”
“Tell me,” said he, “tell me what?”
“Why, about the ghost and Obadiah,” said I.
“There, there, lad,” said he, with a soothing accent. “You have been dreaming.”
If I had not felt so weak, I think I had burst out a laughing, he did look so solemn; for I now perceived my error, and that, knowing nothing of the matter, he thought I roved in my mind.
So I made a shift to relate that crazy adventure with Obadiah and the rest; which, sitting down on a locker by my bedside, he heard with a grave countenance.
When I had ended, after pondering awhile, stroking of his beard, he desired me not to make any mention of it before the Captain, since he did think it better not to acquaint him, lest he should be too violently incensed against Mr Falconer for behaving so negligently.
“Neither has he divulged the least word of it,”, said he; “for I had certainly heard of it if he had. I shall speak to him myself, and also examine how Obadiah provides himself with rum - whether pilfered from our store, or (what is more like) he did smuggle it aboard. This is the ghost that haunts our ship. This is the evil spirit we must exorcise.”
I was not surprised by his resolution not to inform the Captain; for Mr Falconer, of late, was become the chief target of his spleen, so that, furiously raging at him on every the least occasion, he seemed spend his ammunition, our men getting off with scarce an angry word - yea, even that tardy carpenter!
Mr Huxtable now left me, telling me that he would return when I was able, and, that, though I should feel much easier, I ought not to leave my cabin, but lie quiet and warm the rest of the day.
The motions of the ship were become less this while, and the potion I had drunk begun to work, soothing me into a quiet sleep.
When I awoke the day was far spent, the porthole above my bed casting a comfortable, soft light. The ship rolled but little, and with a different motion than before; and, when with an effort (for I continued very weakly), I sat up in my bed and looked out, I knew that we were come to our harbour. I beheld, at the distance of about half a mile over the sea (by how much the porthole did afford my prospect) a piece of a high steep land and some houses, being built of stone, that appeared very pleasant with their roofs of pantile all glowing with sunset light.
Mr Huxtable entered soon after to see if I was awake (having come in before while I slept); and, after enquiring how I did, and kindling my lamp, he sat him down by my bedside to entertain me with some news.
He said that we lay in the road at Santa Cruz, where we anchored soon after noon, that he had gone ashore in the long-boat to procure some of the provisions we had occasion for, and, that on the morrow, after filling our water casks (which could be done expeditiously in this place, in a sandy cove) it was proposed to refresh our men ashore.
He told me that he had spoken to Mr Falconer, adding how he could have possibly behaved himself so negligent and remiss the last night; but that his answers were so extraordinarily vague, he could make nothing of it.
“But I rather think,” said he “Tha
t he was under some sort of demency, or ebbing fits of mind. I shall keep watch on him as much as I am able. The nights will grow warmer as we go along, and I shall move my bedding on deck.”
For Obadiah, he lay in his bunk, having taken some vague hurt (as it should seem) in falling to the deck while drunk that night. He complained that his arm pained him; but what it ailed, Mr. Huxtable, though not unskilful in such matters, could not determine, and thought he might be pretending, for some reason he had, perhaps fearing the Captain's censure on his drunkenness.
Be that how it might, for this occasion he said he would pass it over, bidding me as much as possible, henceforth, to keep out of this uncouth pirate’s way.
Of the town, Santa Cruz, he told me it was but small, not above 200 houses, all two storeys high, with a convent and a church and two forts to guard the road; but that three miles further up this rocky mountainous island, stood a town called Laguna from a great pond of fresh water (the word Laguna signifying in Spanish, pond or lake) that lies in a grassy plain at the back of the town, and that it was very handsome and delightful, with many fair buildings and gentlemen’s houses, and among them convents, nunneries and two churches, with high square steeples; the streets spacious, and near the middle, a large parade. There are many goodly gardens of flowers and pot-herbs, set round with orange trees, limes and other fruits, that flourish exceedingly, since the town, standing on the brow of a plain, that is all open to the east, is seldom lacking for cooling and refreshing breezes from the Trade wind which is in these parts most commonly fair.