The Boy Chums in the Gulf of Mexico

by Carol Norton

  CHAPTER VI.

  FIRST TROUBLE.

  ONE of the sailors Charley had selected for his crew was the tallhandsome fellow whom the others seemed to shun.

  "I can't understand what the rest have against him," the young captainremarked to his chum. "He seems very quiet and well behaved, and he isevery inch a sailor. I would ask Manuel about him but it is bad policyto discuss one of the crew with another. It always makes trouble.Likely, Manuel would lie about him anyway, he seems to hate him, lookat him glaring at him now."

  The Greek was leaning against the railing staring at the sailor who wascoiling down a rope near him. Suddenly the Greek addressed the man in alow savage tone. The sailor's face grew red with anger, and he repliedshortly in a few hissing words. With a bound, the Greek cleared thespace between the two and struck the sailor full in the mouth. The manreeled back against the main mast, but, recovering himself in a second,sprang for his assailant. The Greek leaped to one side and whipped outa long wicked knife.

  Before he could use it, Captain Westfield, belaying pin in hand, rushedin between the two.

  "Put up that knife," he roared. "I'll do what fighting there is to bedone on this ship."

  The Greek shot one quick glance at him, venomous with hate, then heglanced beyond him at the two lads who waited expectantly with hands ontheir pistols.

  "He cursed me," he said sullenly, as he slowly replaced the knife inhis pocket.

  "When anyone curses you, report it to me an' don't take the law inyour own hands. I'm master of this schooner, an' you might as wellunderstand it right off. Tell that fellow just what I've told you."

  The sailor's face darkened as the Greek spoke to him rapidly, but heturned slowly away and walked forward.

  "That's a bad beginning," Charley remarked to his chum. "I wish we hadnever seen that Greek. I believe he insulted that sailor. The fellowwas behaving himself and tending to his own business."

  He repeated the remark to the captain a little later.

  "I reckon you're right, lad," agreed the old sailor, "that Greek seemsto be a trouble-maker but he'll find he's got the wrong man to dealwith. I've handled too many crews of tough roughnecks to be bested bya dirty furriner."

  "I'll bet he will keep you busy with complaints," Walter said. "Howare you going to get at the truth of it if he does complain about theothers of the crew?"

  "You'll see, I reckon, he will try something like that but I'm readyfor him."

  Sure enough, in less than an hour the Greek approached the Captain.

  "I hate to trouble you, but I must complain as you have directed," hesaid suavely. "The cook, he is very abusive, I tried to instruct himabout your meals but he answers me with vile names."

  "Bring the cook aft," Captain Westfield commanded.

  Manuel escorted the bewildered-looking cook aft with a look of slytriumph on his face.

  The captain looked the man over appraisingly. He was abroad-shouldered, well-muscled fellow. He spoke to him briefly but thecook shook his head. He could not understand.

  The old sailor picked up a rope and spread it in a big circle on thedeck.

  "This insulting of you has got to be stopped right off," he declared,addressing the interpreter. "Give me your knife."

  The Greek surrendered his weapon.

  "Now both of you get inside that ring and fight it out to a finish,"he ordered. "Lick him good for calling you names."

  Manuel's face fell, and, turning he spoke rapidly to the cook. "He hasapologized and my honor is satisfied," he declared.

  "All right," the captain said with a wink at the grinning boys. "Nexttime any one insults you, I am going to make you give him a goodlicking in a square fist fight. I'm not agoing to let any of the crewswear at you and call you names--it ain't right."

  "I guess we won't have any more complaints from him right off," hechuckled as the disappointed Greek retired forward.

  "I'm afraid we're going to have more or less trouble through notunderstanding their language," Charley said, gravely. "I don't believehe had a bit of trouble with the cook. He was just aiming to have youpunish the fellow and get you disliked by the crew."

  "I can handle him all right," the captain declared, confidently. "If hegets troublesome I'll iron him and put him down in the hold. I reckon Ican make the rest understand what I want done by signs, though it wouldbe mighty awkward if a gale struck us."

  The old sailor soon left the boys in charge of the deck and went belowto write up the log and look over the charts.

  "If this wind holds we'll be on the edge of the sponging grounds bynight," he said when he returned. "I didn't realize before how big theyare. Why, they reach clear from Cedar Keys to Cape Sable, about sevenhundred miles."

  "One thing that has puzzled me is that all these schooners seem to comefrom Key West," Charley remarked, '"Of Key West' is lettered on thestern of every one of them."

  "Key West used to be the headquarters for the sponging business inthe old days," the captain explained. "They used to gather spongesdifferent from what they do now. A schooner would take out abouttwenty small boats an' a crew of forty men. When she got to the spongegrounds, the small boats would scatter out around her, two men in eachboat. One man would do the sculling and the other would lean over thebow with a water glass in one hand--a pail with a pane of glass fora bottom--and a long pole with a hook in the end in the other. Whenhe spied a sponge on the bottom through the glass he'd have the otherstop sculling and he would hook it up with his pole. It was slow, hardwork, but they made money at it until the Greeks came with their expertdivers. They could not compete with them so they either sold or leasedtheir schooners to the Greeks and went out of business."

  The old sailor's explanation was interrupted by a howl of "Oh, Golly!"from the cook' galley forward and Chris, dripping with water, boundedout of the open door of the little structure, and rushed aft.

  "I want you to put dat cook in irons, Massa Captain," he cried. "He'sdone 'saulted his superior officer."

  "What did he do to you," the captain asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  "Throwed a hull pan of dirty, nasty dishwater obber me. I was jus'tellin' him how he had outer do, an' tryin' to show de ignorant man howto cook, when--slosh--he let fly dat big pan full all obber me."

  The dirty water was streaming from the little negro's brilliantclothing and his face was streaked with purple from his cap.

  The captain checked his desire to laugh.

  "The cook did just right," he said, gravely. "You've got no businessin his galley. A cook is always boss there. Even the Captain seldominterferes with him."

  Chris seemed inclined to protest indignantly, but the old sailorcontinued.

  "How would you like to be cook an' have some one poking around an'tellin' you what to do?"

  "Golly! I reckon you is right," the little darkey admitted, "I wouldn'tstand such doin's. 'Spect dough dat my good clothes is all spoiled.Dat water was powerful greasy."

  "Better dry them out and lay them away," Walter suggested. "They aretoo fine to wear at sea. You had ought to save them 'till we get inport."

  Both boys were glad when Chris accepted the suggestion. They could seethat the crew regarded the little fellow in his gay apparel with acontempt and ridicule that the plucky, loyal little lad did not deserve.

  Under her shortened canvas, the "Beauty" had dropped to the rear of thefleet. Late in the afternoon the schooners ahead began to shorten sail.Soon one rounded up into the wind, dropped anchor and lowered sail.A mile further on another one anchored, a mile beyond another tookin sail, until at last the whole fleet was strung out in a long linereaching many miles North and South.

  The captain held the "Beauty" on her course until the last schooner waspassed then anchored, lowered sails and made everything snug.

  "We are on the sponging grounds," he explained to the boys who had beenpuzzled by the fleet's maneuvers. "To-morrow we make our first try asspongers."

  As soon as their supper was finished the boys stroll
ed forward to viewthe crew at their meal.

  The Greeks ate in groups of four. Each group had a great tin pan filledwith some kind of stew. This they divided into four equal portionswith their big spoons, all eating from the same pan.

  The stew, black bread as hard as a rock, and ripe olives constitutedtheir meal, but the boys, hearty eaters themselves, were astounded atthe amount of food each Greek disposed of.

  "I never dreamed a man could stow away so much grub," Charley remarked."They are not eating three meals in one, but six."