Wild Life in the Land of the Giants: A Tale of Two Brothers

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Wild Life in the Land of the Giants: A Tale of Two Brothers Page 13

by Burt L. Standish

Quite an exceptional thing on board a ship.Thunder! Miss Domville, the man who didn't obey me would soon bescratching an ailing head."

  "That's just his way," Mrs Coates whispered to me. "Jack is such afellow.--Oh, by the way, you're called Jack. We'll have two?"

  "Oh, it won't matter much," I said, "I've a whole barrowful of namesbesides to pick and choose from."

  "I'm sure you'll like the sea and Captain Coates, and that we shall allpull together famously. By the way, Miss Domville, I'm taking a maidagain."

  "You had one last time."

  "Yes, and a nice handful she was. Ill for weeks, and I had to attendupon her. This is a black girl, so humorous, kindly, and good, and beento sea quite a long time."

  We were very happy that evening, especially when aunt told us that wewere going to India, and that we should call at the Cape and probablysee mamma.

  "Oh," I shouted, "I'm so glad that we played pirates."

  "So am I," cried Jill, and began to dance.

  "Auntie," I said, "promise me one thing. Oh, you must promise."

  "Well, well, if I must promise, what is it?"

  "You'll write and tell mamma we've gone to sea. But don't say _where_.We want to pop in on her unawares. Don't we, Jill?"

  "Certainly."

  "Well," said auntie, "I'll humour you for once."

  There is always something in this life happening to mar one's joy, justwhen it is at its height. That is my experience. But things are wiselyordered. Heaven does not desire us to get too fond of this world. Ifit were all sunshine we would be sure to, and forget there is a happierland beyond the grave.

  But before we went to bed, auntie told us about the sad fate of poor TomMorley.

  She seemed unwilling at first to tell us anything to damp our spirits,but as we had mentioned Tom, and saw there was something behind herfirst simple statement that Tom was dead, we pressed her and shewithheld nothing.

  The brief narrative of his latter end was related to her by Tom's ownquondam shipmate, the man who had come on board for him on thatunfortunate evening before our final foolish adventure on the_Thunderbolt_; and when we heard it from auntie's lips it made animpression on us I am never likely to forget.

  Boys do take fancies for persons, whether men or women, whom they get intow with--to use a sea phrase--when young, and I think they are morelikely to be lasting ones if these persons have any memorable oddityabout them. Tom had several, his hoarse but not unpleasant voice, hisflower-pot coloured face, and his exceeding good nature when off duty.To put it in few words, he then used to let us do as we liked. I thinkI see Jill yet jumping round him and singing--

  "Dear old Tom Morley, Come tell us a storley."

  Then we would catch him and "lug him below" (the phrase is Tom's) andseat him in his armchair, and even light his pipe for him, and then sitdown to listen.

  Tom's stories nearly always had much about the same plan ofcommencement, which was somewhat as follows:--

  "When I was in the old _Semiramis_, young gentlemen, ah! ships wereships in them days, and officers and men _were_ officers and men, I cantell you, and knowed their duty, and did it too, no matter what stood intheir way. Well, one day we were a-cruisin' off a bit o' land,"--and soon and so forth.

  Yes, we did like Tom. But sad was the pity he had that predilection for"tossing cans" with friends, else he might have gone aloft in adifferent fashion and his body filled an honoured grave.

  But Tom met his old messmate that day, and went off with him, and theymust have a can together for old times, and many more than one perhaps.The evening probably passed away quickly enough, what with talking ofthe dear old days "when ships were ships and you I were young, lad."

  But, according to his friend, Tom pulled himself up with a round turn atlast, and as he pulled out his big, old-fashioned silver watch.

  "Oh dear," he cried, "I'd no idea how the time was flyin'; and thosedear children on board, too, all by their dear little selves. Now, oldchummy, I'm off. Duty's duty, and we may meet again another day."

  "I don't think you can get off to-night to the _Thunderbolt_," repliedhis friend.

  "What d'ye mean?" said Tom.

  "Why I mean that it's blowin' big guns."

  "No matter if it blows fifty-sixes or Armstrongs, Tom's goin' off ifbirds can fly."

  "There won't be a boat'll take you off to-night, Tom," said thelandlord.

  "Then I'll swim," said Tom Morley, doggedly. "I've done that afore,when duty was duty."

  "I know you has, Tom; but take my advice, don't try any such foolishgame on a night like this, or you'll get left."

  "Good-night, landlord.--Come on," cried Tom to his friend.

  Away they went together.

  It was past ten by the time they reached the usual steps. No boatmanwas there.

  "Tom, come on back. Sleep on shore to-night, old man."

  "What," cried Tom, "and those three darlings on board! Don't ye try topersuade me, Bill. You knows Tom o' the old. Duty is duty, and Tom'llface it."

  The moon was shining quite brightly, and though the water was rough, thewind was favourable.

  "D'ye see the dear old _Thunderbolt_ yonder, Bill? Well, Tom'll sleepthere to-night or--in a sailor's grave. I think I see the anxious weefaces at the port yonder watching for me. Coming, darlings Tom'sa-coming."

  Tom had kicked off his boots as he spoke; then he relieved himself ofwhat he called his top hamper. But even now his old shipmate could notbelieve him in earnest. He did, though, when Tom darted from his sideand took a header into the tide.

  He swam up close in shore first for a good distance, then struck outacross, but still heading up. For a time his messmate could even hearhim singing a stave of that charming old song--

  "Good-night--all's well."

  "The last long notes," said his mate, "rang down the wind like adeath-knell."

  And death-knell it was to poor Tom. If ever he reached the ship'slongitude, he must have been carried past her with fearful speed, and--the curtain drops.

  CHAPTER TEN.

  BOOK II--PATAGONIA AND THE LAND OF FIRE.

  A STRANGE INTRODUCTION--SAINT HELENA AND FUN ON SHORE--CAPE TOWN.

  The amount of good advice vouchsafed to us before sailing, by dear aunt,was only equalled by the sum total of our own good resolves. There wasnothing in the world we were not going to do and be that was worth doingor being. And every night of our lives for weeks before sailing, wemade some new good intention, and duly entered it in the log of ourmemories.

  Alas! I fear that going to sea for the first time is very like enteringupon a new year: there is the same firm determination to do good and tobe good, and one invariably sticks to his intentions boldly--for a weekor a fortnight.

  Our life now, I remember, was to be all _couleur de rose_. There wouldnot be a single hitch in it; it would spin over the wheels of time assoftly as a well-coiled rope glides through a greased block. We weregoing to work like New Hollanders, and get up to the working of the shipin a month at the farthest, be able to reef, steer, and box the compassin another month; we would always be on deck three minutes before thewatch was called; we would show the men a good example--we certainly hada good opinion of our little selves; we would be always cheerful andmerry and willing; and last, but not least, we would keep such a log aswould be worth handing over to the British Museum when done with.

  However, there is no harm in trying to be perfect; on the contrary, itshows a boy is ambitious, and an ambitious boy is certain to do well andadvance. He may not obtain to the height of his ambition, but if heaims high he'll hit high, nevertheless, although he may neither send hisarrow through the moon nor set the Thames on fire.

  The _Salamander_ was a sailing ship, but a crack little craft at that,well-handled, and well-manned. A barque she was as to rig, but almostclipper built, without extra narrowness of beam. She was a strong,sturdy-timbered, safe ship, and could do a bit of handsome sailing on awind.

  But being a sa
iling ship, she had to be towed by such a puffing littledirty noisy tug, all the way down the river. This is a sort of abeginning to a voyage that I never could endure. When I go to sea, Ilike best to get into blue water right away, just as I dearly love totake a header from the rocks into deep water when bathing--right splashdown among the jelly fishes.

  But we hoisted sail at last with a deal of "yee-hoing" and sing-songing,then the tug and we parted company with a ringing cheer, which Jill andI took an eminent part in. Indeed, when the order was given to hoistthe jib, both of us attempted to take an eminent part in that also, andwere

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