CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
SPANISH LIQUORICE.
There was quite a discussion when the doctor joined those waiting by thebrig, the Count being bitterly annoyed and displaying more excitementthan the others had seen in him before, while Morny kept close to hisside, and whispered to him from time to time, as if trying to calm himdown.
"Yes, yes, my son," he cried passionately, and speaking to him inFrench; "but you are a boy, and do not think. Look here," and hepointed to the helpless brig, "how do we know but that he may be anenemy? And we are in this helpless state, quite at his mercy."
The doctor was listening attentively, and understood every word.
"I know," he said soothingly, "this must be very painful for you; butCaptain Chubb believes that before many days are over the brig will beas strong as ever. I answer for him that he is making every effort tofinish what he has undertaken."
Uncle Paul directed a glance at the skipper, who stood scowling closeby.
"Thank you, doctor," he granted, as he gave a nod. "And I feel surethat this Spanish captain, who is evidently an ordinary trader, willprove perfectly inoffensive; and besides, my dear sir, we are not at warnow, and what enemies can you have to fear?"
"Ah, yes," said the Count bitterly, as he made a deprecating gesturewith his hands, turning and directing his words at his son; "whatenemies can we have to fear?"
"Well, I am glad you look upon it in that light," said the doctor."Now, if it had been years ago, with your smart little craft, and youhad been followed up here by a small sloop of war, or an English letterof marque, you might have expected to be made a prize. But this is anordinary Spanish schooner, and though I suspected it at first, I don'tthink she is tainted by the slave trade, but engaged in traffic with thenatives for the sake of palm-oil."
"Perhaps you are right, sir," said the Count.
"I feel sure I am," said the doctor, "and I must confess to havinghailed this man's coming, from the help he will be to me in a littleexpedition I propose to make when we have seen the brig restored and allset right."
"I thank you," said the Count, "but I am so anxious for the success ofmy own scientific search that I have got into the habit of seeingenemies in every one, even as I did, doctor, in you and your men. Andyou see this is an armed vessel with a very strong crew."
"Well," said the doctor good-humouredly, "we have armed vessels withvery strong crews. Anxiety has made you nervous, Count. Here's yourdoctor," he said, turning to Captain Chubb, "and before many days havepassed he will have cured all your trouble, and we can get to seaagain."
"Ah, yes, that will be better," said the Count, wiping his moist brow."You must forgive me, doctor--and you too, Captain Chubb. I amimpatient, I know. But I see now all will be well. One moment, though:you said we can get to sea again. _We_? You will sail with me?"
"My dear sir," said the doctor, "you need have no fear. Captain Chubbwill make your brig as sound as ever. You will need to look for nofurther assistance from me."
"I did not mean that," said the Count hastily. "I meant brotherlyhelp--the help that one devoted to research could give to another."
"But," said the doctor, laughing, "you have never confided to me whatparticular form of research yours is."
"No, I have not," said the Count hurriedly, "and I ask you to spare mefrom explanation. Be satisfied if I say that we are both bound upongreat missions, and that you, a brother scientist, can give me enormoushelp by working in company with me for the next few weeks at most. Isthis too much to ask of a learned doctor like you?"
"Oh no," said Uncle Paul good-humouredly; "I do not see that it is. Youare not going to ask me to help you to escape from an English prison."
The Count gave an involuntary start.
"Of course not," said the doctor, "for I am thankful that all that kindof trouble is at an end, and that France and England are at peace; andbesides, you are free to come and go where you please. Well, as yourson and my nephew have become such inseparable friends, and my time ismy own, I will ask no questions, but sail where you sail, and pick upwhat I can to complete my specimens while you continue your research;and believe me, I wish you every success."
"Ah," said the Count, with a sigh of satisfaction; and with all aFrenchman's effusiveness he laid his hands on the doctor's shoulders andsaid, with some little show of emotion, "I thank you. You are making meas great a friend as my son is to your nephew."
Watch was mounted on both vessels at night as if they were in thepresence of a dangerous enemy; but there in the great solitude of thatforest through which the river ran, there was nothing human to disturbthe night.
Savage nature was as busy as ever during the dark hours through whichthe creatures of land and water fled for their lives or pursued theirprey. Otherwise everything was wondrously still, and those uponschooner or brig who might have felt doubtful about the Spanish craftsaw or heard nothing save the low murmur of voices in conversation andthe occasional opening or shutting of a dull lantern, whose use wasexplained by the sudden glow cast upon the face of some swarthy sailoras he lit a fresh cigarette, after which a couple of faint points ofglowing light rising and falling might have been seen passing to and froupon the Spaniard's deck.
Then as daylight came again there was the busy sound of the saw,chipping of the adze, the creak of auger, and the loud echoing rap ofthe mallet, as some tree-nail was driven home.
On the previous evening the conversation that had gone on between thedoctor and the Count had hardly ended before the Spaniard's boat, rowedby a couple of men, came as near as they could get to the brig, and oneof the bare-legged men, after giving a sharp look round into the shallowwater, as if in search of danger from one of the hideous reptiles on thelook-out for prey, stepped over into the mud, and came up, bearing abasket of large, freshly-caught fish, which he placed in the hands of acouple of the sailors, and then stood waiting.
"Ah!" cried the doctor. "The fish the Spanish captain promised me. Ourthanks to your master, and I will not forget what he wanted."
The man answered him in Spanish.
"Ah, now you are taking me out of my depth," said the doctor. "Do youspeak French?"
The man shook his head.
"English, then?"
"_No comprende, senor_," replied the man hurriedly--or what sounded likeit.
"Never mind, then," said the doctor. "I'll send your skipper somepowder to-morrow."
The man shook his head and made signs, repeating them persistently,frowning and shaking his head.
"I think he means, uncle," cried Rodd, "that he won't go away until youhave paid him in powder for the fish."
"Hang the fellow!" cried the doctor petulantly. "Why hasn't he beentaught English? I don't carry canisters of gunpowder about in mypockets. Can any one make him understand that the powder is in thelittle magazine on the schooner?"
"What does he want? Some gunpowder?" said the Count.
"Yes. I promised him a present of a few pound canisters."
"We can get at ours," said the Count quietly, and giving an order to theFrench sailor who acted as his mate, the latter mounted into the brig,disappeared down the cabin hatchway, and returned in a few minutes withhalf-a-dozen canisters, with which the man smilingly departed, afterdistributing a few elaborate Spanish bows.
The weather was glorious, and all that next day good steady progress wasmade with the brig repairs, while Rodd and his uncle spent most of thetime keeping guard over the workmen and sending crocodile aftercrocodile floating with the tide, to the great delight of the grinningcrew of the Spaniard, who lined the new-comer's bulwarks as if they werespectators of some exhibition, and clapped their hands and shouted loud_vivas_ at every successful shot, while all the time tiny little curlsof smoke rose at intervals into the sunny air as the men kept on makingfresh cigarettes as each stump was thrown with a _ciss_ into the glidingstream.
"Quiet and lazy enough set, Pickle," said the doctor. "How they canbask and sleep in the sunshine
! It's an easy-going life, that oftheirs. Ah, there's the skipper! Fierce-looking fellow. He looks likea man who could use a knife. But you don't half read your Shakespeare,my boy."
"What's Shakespeare got to do with that fierce-looking Spaniard usinghis knife, uncle?"
"Only this, my boy," said the doctor, drawing the ramrod out of hisdouble gun and trying whether the wads were well down upon the bullets,for a couple of the ugly prominences that arched over a big crocodile'seyes came slowly gliding down the stream; "I mean that aShakespeare-reading boy clever at giving nicknames--and that you can dowhen you like--would have called that fellow Bottom the Weaver."
"I don't see why, uncle. Bottom the Weaver?" said the boy musingly, ashe slowly raised his gun.
"No, no; stop there, Rodd! That's my shot. I saw the brute first."
"All right, uncle; only don't miss;" and the boy lowered his gun. "Butwho was Bottom the Weaver?"
"Tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated the doctor. "I say, this is a big one,Rodd--a monster."
"Here, I recollect, uncle. He was the man who was going to play lion."
"Good boy, Pickle; not so ignorant as I thought you were. Well, didn'the say he'd roar him as gently as any sucking dove, so as not tofrighten the ladies?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Well, didn't our knife-armed Spaniard roar to us as gently as--"
_Bang_.
"Got him!" cried the doctor.
"No, no; a miss," cried Rodd.
_Bang_, again.
"That wasn't," said the doctor, and as the smoke drifted away there wasa burst of _vivas_ again from the Spaniards as they saw their dangerousenemy writhing upon the surface with the contortions of an eel, as itturned and twined, and then lashed the water up into foam, till in aspasmodic effort it dived out of sight and was seen no more.
"Poor fellow!" said Joe Cross from the brig, in the most sympathetic oftones. "Such a fine handsome one too, Mr Rodd, sir! Talk about asmile, when he put his head out of the water, why, a tiger couldn'ttouch it! It must have been three times as long."
So the work went on, and the tyrants of the river perished slowly, butdid not seem to shrink in numbers. But the carpentering party were ableto do their work in safety, and when, after the interval for dinner hadended, Uncle Paul and his nephew carried on what Rodd called a reptilianexecution, the Spaniard's crew were lying about in the sunshine asleepupon their deck. They were too idle to take any interest in theshooting, while their captain, a rather marked object in the sunshinefrom the bright scarlet scarf about his waist, worn to keep up his snowywhite duck trousers, lay upon the top of the big three-masted schooner'sdeck-house with his face turned to the glowing sun, and with a cigarettealways in his mouth.
"I believe he goes on smoking when he's asleep, uncle," said Rodd.
"Yes, Pickle, and if I were an artist and wanted to paint arepresentation of idleness, there's just the model I should select.They are a lazy lot."
"Yes, uncle, and twice over to-day I saw them talking together, and Ifeel sure that they were laughing at our men because they worked."
No communication whatever took place between the strangers and the firstoccupants of the anchorage till after dark, when, as Rodd was leaningover the taffrail talking to Joe Cross, who said he was cooling himselfdown after a hot day's work, the Spaniard's boat was dimly seen puttingoff from the big schooner, and was rowed across, to come close alongsideas Joe hailed her.
The Spanish skipper looked up, cigarette in mouth, and nodded to Rodd.
"You tell your ship-master," he said, "that I have been thinking aboutthe birds and the spotted leopards and the big monkeys. I know a placewhere they swarm. Good-night!" And at a word his boat was thrust offagain and rowed back towards the gangway from which they came.
"Well, let 'em swarm," said Joe Cross, as if talking to himself. "Idon't mind. This 'ere's a savage country, and 'tis their nature to. Heseems a rum sort of a buffer, Mr Rodd, sir. What does he mean by that?Was it Spanish chaff?"
"Oh no, Joe. My uncle was asking him about what curiosities there arein the country. That's why he said he had been thinking about them."
"Oh, I see. But how rum things is, and how easy a man can makemistakes! Now, if I had been asked my opinion I should have said thatthat there was a chap as couldn't think even in Spanish; sort of afellow as could eat, sleep and smoke, and then begin again, day afterday and year after year. This is a rum sort of a world, Mr Rodd, sir,and there's all sorts of people in it. Now look at that there skipper.He fancies hisself, he does, pretty creature! White trousers, cleanshirt every morning, and a red scarf round his waist. 'Andsome he callshisself, I suppose. He don't know that even a respectable dog as wentto drink in a river and saw hisself, like that there other dog in thefable, would go and drown hisself on the spot if he found he'd a greatset of brown teeth like his!"
"Ah, Joe, Spaniards are not like Englishmen."
"Oh, but I don't call him a Spaniard, sir. I've seen Spaniards--regulargrand Dons, officers and gentlemen, with nothing the matter with them atall, only what they couldn't help, and that's being Spaniards instead ofEnglishmen. These are sort of mongrels. Some of this 'ere crew arewhat people call mollottoes. They are supposed to be painted white men,but payed over with a dirty tar-brush. Talk about a easy-going lot!Why, I aren't seen one of them do a stroke of work to-day. They are inthe ile trade, aren't they, sir? Palm-oil."
"Yes, Joe; I suppose so."
"Ah, that accounts for it, sir. Handling so much ile that it makes themgo so easy."
The sailor burst into a long soft laugh, "What are you laughing at,Joe?"
"That warn't laughing, sir; that was smiling. When I laugh hearty youcan hear me a long way off."
"Well, what were you smiling at?"
"I was thinking, sir, about how it would be if our old man had that lotunder him. My word, how he'd wake them up! Poor, simple, sleepybeggars! It would set them thinking that they hadn't took a skipperaboard, but a human hurricane. I wonder who owns that there craft, andwhether he gets anything out of the oil trade. _Viva_, indeed! Yes,our old man would give them something to _viva_ about. Their skippertoo--nice way of coming up a river to get a cargo. Well, I suppose theyget their tobacco pretty cheap; and that's how the world turns round."
Another day glided by, with steady visible progress in the brig'srepairs; and the Count seemed in better spirits, and said a fewcomplimentary words to the skipper.
On board the schooner Captain Chubb appeared to be setting an example tothe Spaniards, for those of his crew who were not helping the carpentersat the brig were kept busy holystoning, polishing, and coiling downropes into accurate concentric rings, till the _Maid of Salcombe_ was assmart as any yacht.
Meanwhile the Spaniards lined the bulwarks of their vessel, smoked andyawned, and watched the reptile shooting, and then stared in sleepywonderment at the busy smartening up of the English schooner.
The evening came, and this time the Spanish captain had himself rowedacross again, to find that it was the doctor who was leaning over theside with his nephew, and, cigarette in mouth still, the man saidslowly--
"He tell you about the birds and the monkeys up the little river?"
"Yes," said the doctor, "and I've been thinking about it."
"Ah, yes," said the Spaniard. "I am going to stop a fortnight yetbefore it's time to go up with my cargo. I'll make my men row you up tothe mouth of that little river; and I could show you something you'dlike, but you would have to take your guns--you and him too. But maybethe boy would be afraid."
"That I shouldn't!" cried Rodd hotly.
"Oh! Then you could come," said the Spaniard. "But you'd be in the wayif you were afraid. Think about it. Good-night."
The doctor was ready to enter into conversation, and question him; butthe boat went off back at once, leaving Uncle Paul mentally troubled,for the idea of an excursion into the depths of the forest wilds wasexciting in the extreme.
"He needn't have
been in such a hurry, Pickle," said the doctor. "Ishould have liked to have questioned him a little."
"Yes, uncle. I should like to hear about such things; but it was likehis impudence to say that I should be afraid!"
"Yes, my boy; it was rude," replied the doctor thoughtfully, "Ah! It'ssuch a chance as might never occur again. A guide like that isn'talways to be picked up."
"No, uncle," replied the boy; "and it must be very wonderful in thedepths of the forest, where you can get through, because you would beable to row."
"Yes, my boy; wonderfully interesting," said the doctor eagerly.
"But we couldn't go, uncle."
"Why, Pickle? Why?"
"Because we couldn't go away and leave the brig like that."
"No; of course not, my boy. It would be too bad, wouldn't it? And ofcourse we couldn't go and trust ourselves to a pack of strangers, eh?"
"We shouldn't be afraid, should we, uncle?"
"Well, no, my boy; no. But I don't think it would be prudent. Butthere, there, we mustn't think of it. We can't do everything we like."
The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise Page 39