CHAPTER SEVEN.
AT SEA.
"Hullo, Weeks!" cried Tom Jerrold, coming up at the moment and grinningat him rolling in the scuppers. "What's the matter, old fellow? Youseem rather down."
"Begorra, he's ownly havin' a cooler to aise that nashty timper av hisown," said the boatswain from the door of his cabin, which was just nextours in the deck-house, only more forward. And then, turning to me, headded, "Sure an' that wor a purty droive, Misther Gray-ham; ye lit himhave it straight from the shouldher."
"I'm sure I didn't mean to hurt him," I answered, sorry now for myopponent as he scrambled at last up on his feet, looking very bedraggledand showing on his face the signs of the fray. "I only held out my handto save the poor bird, and he ran against my fist."
"Oh, did you?" slobbered Weeks, half crying, in a savage, vindictivevoice, and rushing at me as soon as he rose up. "You spiteful beggar!Well, two can play at that game, and I'll pay you out for it if you'vegot pluck enough to fight!"
"Be aisy now," interposed Tim Rooney, stepping between us and holdinghim back. "Sure an' if y're spilin' for a batin' I'm not the chap toprivint you; but, if you must foight, why ye'll have to do it fair an'square. Misther Gray-ham, sorr, jist give me the burrd as made therumpus, I've a little cage in me bunk that'll sarve the poor baste forshilter till ye can get a betther one. It belonged to me ould canary astoorned up its toes last v'y'ge av a fit av the maysles."
"The measles?" exclaimed Tom Jerrold, bursting into a laugh. "I neverheard of a bird dying of that complaint before."
"Faix, thin, ye can hear it now," said the boatswain with some heat."An', sure, I don't say whare the laugh comes in, me joker! Didn't itsfaythers dhrop off av the poor craythur, an' its skin toorn all spotty,jist loike our friend Misther Wake's phiz here; an' what could that be,sure, but the maysles, I'd loike to know?"
"All right, bosun; I daresay you're right," hastily rejoined Jerrold toappease him; but he made me smile, however, by his efforts to lookgrave, although my own affairs were just then in such a criticalposition, with the prospect of a battle before me. "I was only laughingat the idea of a canary with the measles; but I've no doubt they havethem the same as we do, and other things like us, too."
"In coorse they does, an' plinty of tongue, too, loike some chaps I'vecome across on shipboard!" replied Tim, all himself again in all goodhumour; and then, popping into his cabin, he reappeared quickly with thecage he had mentioned, saying to me, "Sorr, give me the burrd."
I had a little difficulty in extricating the starling from its saferetreat, for it had crept within my flannel shirt inside my jacket,tickling me as it moved; but, going carefully to work, I finallysucceeded in taking it out without hurting it. Then, placing the littlefluttering thing in the cage, the boatswain bore it off to his bunk,giving me an expressive wink as he took it away, as if to say that itwould be safer and more out of harm's way in his keeping, albeit I wasquite at liberty to reclaim the bird when I pleased.
"Now, jintlemin," said Tim, addressing Weeks and myself after puttingthe innocent cause of our quarrel inside his cabin and locking the doorto prevent accidents, as he shrewdly observed, "if ye're both av yeriddy an' willin', as it's goin' on for the sicond dog-watch, whin allhands are allers allowed at say to skoilark an' devart theirsilves, yecan follow me out on the fo'c's'le, me jokers, an' have y'r shindy outfairly in a friendly way."
I didn't want to fight Weeks, I'm sure; for I was not of a quarrelsomedisposition, besides which my father had cautioned me against everhaving any disputes with my comrades, if I could avoid such; although hetold me also at the same time always to act courageously in the defenceof my principles and of my rights, or when I took the part of anotherunable to defend himself. Here, therefore, was a quarrel forced uponme, almost against my will, to save the poor starling's life; and,beyond that, the aggravating way in which Weeks looked at me and shookhis fist in my face would have provoked even a better-tempered boy thanI. Tom Jerrold said afterwards that I turned quite white, as I alwaysdid when excited; while Weeks, on the contrary, was naming with fury andas red as a lobster.
"Come on, you coward!" he blustered, thinking I was afraid of him."I'll soon let you know what it is to have a good hiding, my finegentleman of a parson's son. You only floored me just now because youcaught me unawares."
"I'm quite ready, Mr Rooney," said I to the boatswain, paying noattention to the cur's snobbish bravado; but I felt his sneer against myfather's profession keenly, and had to bite my lip to prevent myselffrom replying to it. I added, however, for his personal benefit as Iturned my back on him in contempt, "Those who crow the loudest, I'veheard, generally do the least when the time for real action comes!"
"Thrue for ye, Mister Gray-ham," cried Tim Rooney. "Brag's a good dog,but Howldfast's the bist for my money. Come on wid ye, though, to thefo'c's'le if ye manes foightin'; for we've had palaverin' enough now inall conshinsh!"
So saying, the boatswain led the way forward, Tom Jerrold, who dearlyloved anything in the way of a spree, and was overjoyed at the prospectof what he called "a jolly row," following with Weeks, to make sure thathe did not back out of the contest at the last moment, which, knowinghis cowardly character very well, as Tom told me afterwards, heanticipated his doing. I brought up the rear--and so we proceededtowards the bows of the ship along the lee-side of the deck, so as toescape the observation of Captain Gillespie and Mr Mackay. These werestanding together, I noticed when the starling flew on board, by therail on the weather side of the poop, where they were having a goodlook-out to windward, and watching some clouds that were pilingthemselves in black masses along the eastern sky--shutting out the lastvestiges of land in the distance, already now become hazy from the mistrising from the sea after sunset.
Passing under the bellying main-sail, whose clew-garnet blocks rattledas it expanded to the breeze, which was now blowing pretty stiff, withevery indication of veering more round to the north, causing the yardsto have a pull taken at the braces every now and then, our littleprocession soon got clear of the deck-house that occupied the centre ofthe main-deck, finally gaining the more open space between the cook'sgalley at the end and the topgallant forecastle.
Here, the folds of the foresail, swelled out like a balloon, interposedlike a curtain betwixt the after-glow of the setting sun and ourselves,the shadows of the upper sails, too, making it darker than on the afterpart of the deck whence we had started; but it was still quite lightenough for me to see the expression on Weeks' mottled face as he stoodopposite me.
Not much time was wasted in preliminaries, the boatswain, who acted asmaster of the ceremonies, placing me against the windlass bitts while myopponent had his back to the galley, what light there was remainingshining full upon him.
I had been present at one or two fights before, at the school I used toattend at Westham, where the boys used to settle their differencesgenerally at the bottom of the playground under a little clump of shadytrees that were grouped there, which shut off the view of the house andthe headmaster's eye; but never previously had the surroundings of anysimilar pugilistic encounter seemed so strange as now!
As usual in such cases, the news had circulated through the ship withastonishing rapidity, considering that only a couple of minutes or so atmost had elapsed since I had saved the starling and knocked down Weeks;for the whole crew, with the exception of two or three hands standing bythe braces and the man at the wheel, appeared to scent the battle fromafar, and were now gathered near the scene of action--some on theforecastle with their legs dangling over, others in the lower rigging,whence they could command the issues of the fray.
It was a pitiful contrast!
Here was the noble vessel surging through the gradually rising sea, withher towering masts and spreading canvas, and the wind whistling throughthe cordage, and the water coming every now and then over her bows in acascade of iridescent spray, as the fast-fading gleams of the sunset litit up, or else rushing by the side of the ship like a mill-race as weplun
ged through it, welling in at the scuppers as it washed inboard.All illustrated the grandeur of nature, the perfection of art; whilethere, on the deck, under the evening sky and amid all the glories ofthe waning glow in the western horizon and the grandeur of the sea inits might and the ship in its beauty and power over the winds and wavesalike, were we two boys standing up to fight each other, with a parcelof bearded men who ought to have known better grouped round eagerlyawaiting the beginning of the combat.
A contrast, but yet only an illustration of one of the ordinary phasesof human nature after all, as father would have said, I thought, thisreflection passing through my mind with that instantaneous spontaneitywith which such fancies do occur to one, as Rooney placed me in myassigned position. Then, recalling my mind to the present, I noticedthat Matthews, my whilom fellow apprentice and lately promoted thirdmate, sinking the dignity of his new rank, had come forward to act asthe second, or backer, of my opponent, who must have sent some messageaft to summon him.
"Now, me bhoys, are ye riddy?" sang out the boatswain, who stood on theweather side of the deck, glancing first at me and then at Weeks. "One,two, thray--foire away!"
I was not quite a novice in the use of my fists, my brother Tom, who,before he went to Oxford and got priggish, had bought a set of boxing-gloves, having made me put them on with him, sometimes, and showed mehow to keep a firm guard and when to hit. My experience was invariablyto get the worst of these amicable encounters, for I used to be knockedoff my pins, besides feeling my forehead soft and pulpy; for, no matterhow well padded gloves may be, a fellow can give a sturdy punch withthem, or appreciate one, all the same. Still, the practice stood me ingood stead on this eventful occasion, especially as my brother had welldrilled me into being light on my feet and dexterous in the art ofstepping forward to deliver a blow and backward to avoid one--no smalladvantage, and the resource of science over brute force.
So, holding my right arm well across my chest and just about level withit, so that I could raise it either up or down as quick as lightning, toprotect my face or body, I advanced my left fist, and waited for SamWeeks to come on with a rush, as I was certain he would do, bracingmyself well on my legs to receive the shock, although the pitching ofthe ship made me somewhat more uncertain of my equilibrium than if thecombat had taken place ashore.
My antagonist acted exactly as I had expected.
Whirling his arms round like those of a windmill, he beat down my guardand gave me a nasty thump with one of them on the side of the head, forbeing lanky, as I said, he had a longer reach than I; however, as he gotin close enough, my left fist caught him clean between the eyes again,landing on the identically same spot where I had hit him before, theplace being already swollen, and whereas I only staggered against thewindlass from his blow, mine sent him tumbling backwards, and he wouldhave fallen on the deck if Matthews had not held him up just in time.
"Bray-vo, dark 'un!" shouted one of the men standing around,complimenting me on having the best of this first exchange, and alludingno doubt to the colour of my hair, which was dark brown while that ofWeeks was quite sandy, like light Muscovado sugar. "Give him a one-twonext time; there's nothing like the double!"
"I'll back freckles," cried another; "he's got more go in him!"
"Arrah, laive 'em alone, can't ye?" said the boatswain, as we faced eachother again. "Don't waste y'r toime, sure. Go it, ye chripples; an'may the bist av ye win, sez I!"
The next two rounds had somewhat similar results to the first, I keepingup a steady defence and hitting my antagonist pretty nearly in the sameplace each time, while he gave me a couple of swinging blows, one ofwhich made my mouth bleed, whereat his admirers were in high glee,especially Matthews, his second, for I heard the latter say to him,"Only go on and you'll soon settle him now, Sam!"
My friend the boatswain, however, was equally sanguine as to the result,as his encouraging advice to me showed.
"Kape y'r pecker up, Misther Gray-ham. Sure, he's gittin' winded, asall av thim lane an' lanky chaps allers does arter a bit," said Tim,wiping the blood away that was trickling from my lip with his soft silkhandkerchief, which he took off from his own neck for the purpose."Begorra, ye've ownly to hammer at his chist an' body, me lad; an' ye'llfinish him afore ye can say `Jack Robinson,' an' it's no lie I'mtellin'!"
Hitherto I had been merely acting on the defensive, and parrying theblows rained on me by Weeks in his impetuous rushes, more than hittingin return; for only keeping my left fist well out and allowing him tomeet it as he so pleased, and which, strange to say, whether he wishedit or not, he did so meet.
But now, thinking it time to end matters, the sight of the blood theboatswain had wiped from my face somehow or other bringing out what Isuppose was the innate savagery of my nature, I determined to carry thewar into the enemy's camp; or, in other words, instead of standing to bestruck at, to lead the attack myself.
As Weeks, therefore, advanced with a grin, confidently as before,thinking that I should merely remain on guard, I threw my left straightout, swinging all the weight of my body in the blow; and then, steppingforwards, I gave him the benefit of my right fist, the one following upthe other in quick succession, although I acted on Tim's advice, anddirected my aim towards his body.
The result of these new tactics of mine altered alike the complexion notonly of the fight but that of my antagonist as well; for he went down onthe deck with a heavy dull thud, almost all his remaining breath knockedout of him.
"Hurrah, the little un wins!" cheered some of the hands; while othersrejoined in opposition, "The lanky one ain't licked yet!"
But, to my especial friend the boatswain the end of the contest was nowa foregone conclusion and victory assured to me.
"Bedad, me bhoy," he whispered in my ear as he prepared me for whatturned out to be the final round of the battle, "that last dhroive avyourn wor loike the kick av a horse, or a pony anyhow! One more braceav them one-twos, Misther Gray-ham, an' he'll be kilt an' done wid!"
It was as Rooney said.
Matthews forced Weeks well-nigh against his will to face me once more,when my double hit again floored him incontinently, when the ship,giving a lurch to leeward at the same time, rolled him into thescuppers, as before at our first encounter.
This settled the matter, for, with all the pluck taken out of him andcompletely cowed, Master Sammy did not offer to rise until Matthews,catching hold of his collar, forcibly dragged him to his feet.
"Three cheers for the little un!" shouted one of the hands, as I stoodtriumphant on the deck in their midst, the hero of the moment, sailorsfollowing the common creed of their fellow men in worshipping success."Hooray!"
A change came over the scene, however, the next instant.
For, ere the last note of the cheer had ceased ringing out from theirlusty throats, Captain Gillespie's long nose came round the corner ofthe cook's caboose, followed shortly afterwards by the owner of thearticle--causing Ching Wang, who had been surveying the progress of thefight with much enjoyment, to retreat instantly within his galley, thesmile of satisfaction on his yellow oval face and twinkle of his littlepig-like eyes being replaced by that innocent look of one conscious ofrectitude and in whom there is no guile, affected by most of hiscelestial countrymen.
"Hullo, bosun!" cried the captain, addressing Tim Rooney, who washelping me to put on my jacket again, and endeavouring, ratherunsuccessfully, to conceal all traces of the fray on my person. "Whatthe dickens does all this mean?"
"Sorry o' me knows, sorr, why them omahdawns is makin' all av that rowa-hollerin'," said Tim, scratching his head as he always did whenpuzzled for the moment for an answer. "It's ownly Misther Gray-ham,sorr, an' Misther Wakes havin' a little bit of foon togither, an'settlin' their differses in a frindly way, loike, sorr."
"Fighting, I suppose,--eh?"
An ominous stillness succeeded this question, the men around followingChing Whang's example and sneaking inside the forecastle and otherwiseslily disappearing from view. Presently, on
ly Tim Rooney and Matthewsremained before the captain besides us two, the principals of the fight,and Tom Jerrold, who, blocked between Captain Gillespie and the caboose,could not possibly manage to get away unperceived.
"Yes, there's no doubt you've been fighting," continued the captain,looking from Weeks to me and from me to Weeks, and seeming to takeconsiderably more interest than either of us cared for in our bruisedknuckles and battered faces and generally dilapidated appearance; forhis long nose turned up scornfully as he sniffed and expanded hisnostrils, compressing his thin lips at the end of his inspection with anair of decision. "Well, youngsters, I'd have you to know that I don'tallow fighting aboard my ship, and when I say a thing I mean a thing.There!"
"But, sir," snivelled Weeks, beginning some explanation, intended nodoubt to throw all the blame on me. "Graham--"
Captain Gillespie, however, interrupted him before he could proceed anyfurther.
"You'd better not say anything, Weeks," said the captain. "Graham's anew hand and you're an old one; at least, you've already been onevoyage, whilst this is his first. I see you've had a lickin' and I'mglad of it, as I daresay it's been brought about by your own bullying;for I know you, Master Samuel Weeks, by this time, and you can't take mein as you used to do with your whining ways! If I didn't believe youwere pretty well starched already, I'd give you another hiding now, mylad. Please, my good young gentleman, just to oblige me, go up in themizzen-top so that I can see you're there, and stop till I call youdown! As for you, Matthews, whom I have just promoted I'm surprised atyour forgetting yourself as an officer, and coming here forrud, to takepart with the crew in a disgraceful exhibition like this. I--"
"Please, sir--" expostulated the culprit. But the captain was firm onthe matter of discipline, as I came to know in time.
"You'll go aft at once, Mr Matthews," he said, waving him away with hisoutstretched arm. "Another such dereliction from duty and you shallcome forrud altogether, as you appear to like the fo'c's'le so well. Ihave made you third officer; but bear in mind that if I possess thepower to make, I can break too!"
It was now Tim Rooney's turn, the captain wheeling round on him as soonas he'd done with Matthews.
"Really, bosun," he said, "I didn't think a respectable man like youwould encourage two boys to fight like that!"
"Bedad it wor ownly to privint their bein' onfrindly, sorr," pleadedTim, looking as much ashamed as his comical twinkling left eye wouldpermit. "I thought it'd save a lot av throuble arterwards, spakin' asregards mesilf, sorr; fur I'm niver at paice onless I'm in a row, sure!"
"Ha, a nice way of making friends--pummelling each other to pieces andupsetting my ship," retorted Captain Gillespie. But, as Tim Rooney madeno answer, thinking discretion the better part of valour in thisinstance, and going up into the bows as if to look out forward, thecaptain then addressed me: "Graham!"
"Yes, sir," said I, awaiting my sentence with some trepidation. "I'mvery sorry, sir, for what has happened, I--"
"There, I want no more jaw," he replied, hastily snapping me up before Icould say another word. "I saw all that occurred, though neither of youthought I was looking. Weeks rushed at you, and you hit him; and thenthis precious hot-headed bosun of mine made you `have it out,' as hecalls it, in `a friendly way,' the idiot, in his Irish bull fashion!But, as I told you, I won't have any fighting here, either between boysor men, and when I say a thing I mean a thing; so, to show I allow norelaxation of discipline on board so long as I'm captain, Master Graham,you'll be good enough to remain on deck to-night instead of going tobed, and will keep the middle watch from `eight bells' to morning."
"Very good, sir," I replied, bowing politely, having already taken offmy cap on his speaking to me; and I then went back to our deck-housecabin and had a lie down, as I felt pretty tired. Ching Wang, however,came to rouse me up soon afterwards with a pannikin of hot coffee, hisway of showing his appreciation of my conduct in the fray, and Isubsequently went with Tim Rooney to see the starling--which made mequite forget all about being tired and having to stop up all night, andthat Tom Jerrold had escaped any punishment for his presence at thefight!
At eight o'clock, when it was quite dark, we passed Beachy Head, seeingthe light in the distance; and then, feeling hungry again, I went to thesteward in the cuddy and got something to eat, meeting there poor Weeks,whom the captain had only just called down from his perch in the mizzen-top, very cold and shivery from being so long up there in his wetclothes in the night air.
He looked rather grimly at me, and from the light in the saloon Inoticed that he had a lovely pair of black eyes; but, on my stretchingout my hand to him, we made friends, and agreed to bury all thedisagreeable occurrences of the day in oblivion.
We had a lot of yarning together until midnight inside the deck-house,where Tom Jerrold lay an his bunk snoring away, utterly regardless ofour presence; and then, on Mr Mackay's summoning me, by the captain'sorder as he told me, to keep watch with him on the poop, I went up theladder and remained with him astern, watching the ship bowling alongunder all plain sail, with the same buoyant breeze behind her with whichwe had started.
"Now, Graham," said Mr Mackay at daybreak, when we were just off SaintCatharine's Point in the Isle of Wight, as he informed me, "you can goand turn in. Bosun, call the starboard watch!"
"Aye, aye, sorr," answered Tim Rooney from the bows, where he had beenkeeping his vigils, too, like us aft. "Starbowlines, ahoy--!"
I only remained on the poop while the man at the wheel was beingrelieved, and Mr Saunders, the second mate, came on deck to take MrMackay's place; when, going below to the deck-house cabin, I was soon inmy little shelf of a bed, falling asleep more quickly, I think, than Ihad ever done before; doing so, indeed, almost the instant I got withinthe blankets.
The next day, at noon, we tore by the Start, and, later on, that noblestmonument a man could have, the Eddystone, Smeaton's glory; the shipracing down Channel as if all the sea-nymphs were chasing us, and oldNeptune, too, at their heels to hurry them on, with his tritons afterhim.
Our average speed all that day was a good ten knots, the wind nevershifting and every sail drawing fore and aft. Sometimes it was evenmore, according to Tom Jerrold's calculations, he having to heave thelog at intervals and turn the fourteen-second glass, his especial duty,in order to determine our rate of progress through the water; but Idon't think it was ever less from the time the sun rose in the morning.
At all events, the Silver Queen made such good use of her time that, atsix o'clock on this evening of our second day under sail, we were up tothe Lizard, the last bit of English shore we should see in a hurry; andat "six bells" in the first watch, were speeding along some ten milessouth of the Bishop's Rock lightship in the Scilly Isles, really, atlast, at sea!
Afloat at Last Page 7