by Jack London
CHAPTER VII
For the rest of the voyage Michael had the run of the ship. Friendly toall, he reserved his love for Steward alone, though he was not above manyan undignified romp with the fox-terriers.
"The most playful-minded dog, without being silly, I ever saw," was DagDaughtry's verdict to the Shortlands planter, to whom he had just soldone of his turtle-shell combs. "You see, some dogs never get over theplay-idea, an' they're never good for anything else. But not KillenyBoy. He can come down to seriousness in a second. I'll show you, andI'll show you he's got a brain that counts to five an' knows wirelesstelegraphy. You just watch."
At the moment the steward made his faint lip-noise--so faint that hecould not hear it himself and was almost for wondering whether or not hehad made it; so faint that the Shortlands planter did not dream that hewas making it. At that moment Michael was lying squirming on his back adozen feet away, his legs straight up in the air, both fox-terriersworrying with well-stimulated ferociousness. With a quick out-thrust ofhis four legs, he rolled over on his side and with questioning eyes andpricked ears looked and listened. Again Daughtry made the lip-noise;again the Shortlands planter did not hear nor guess; and Michael boundedto his feet and to his lord's side.
"Some dog, eh?" the steward boasted.
"But how did he know you wanted him?" the planter queried. "You nevercalled him."
"Mental telepathy, the affinity of souls pitched in the same whatever-you-call-it harmony," the steward mystified. "You see, Killeny an' me aremade of the same kind of stuff, only run into different moulds. He mighta-been my full brother, or me his, only for some mistake in the creationfactory somewhere. Now I'll show you he knows his bit of arithmetic."
And, drawing the paper balls from his pocket, Dag Daughtry demonstratedto the amazement and satisfaction of the ring of passengers Michael'sability to count to five.
"Why, sir," Daughtry concluded the performance, "if I was to order fourglasses of beer in a public-house ashore, an' if I was absent-minded an'didn't notice the waiter 'd only brought three, Killeny Boy there 'draise a row instanter."
Kwaque was no longer compelled to enjoy his jews' harp on the gratingsover the fire-room, now that Michael's presence on the _Makambo_ wasknown, and, in the stateroom, on stolen occasions, he made experiments ofhis own with Michael. Once the jews' harp began emitting its barbaricrhythms, Michael was helpless. He needs must open his mouth and pourforth an unwilling, gushing howl. But, as with Jerry, it was not merehowl. It was more akin to a mellow singing; and it was not long beforeKwaque could lead his voice up and down, in rough time and tune, within adefinite register.
Michael never liked these lessons, for, looking down upon Kwaque, hehated in any way to be under the black's compulsion. But all this waschanged when Dag Daughtry surprised them at a singing lesson. Heresurrected the harmonica with which it was his wont, ashore in public-houses, to while away the time between bottles. The quickest way tostart Michael singing, he discovered, was with minors; and, once started,he would sing on and on for as long as the music played. Also, in theabsence of an instrument, Michael would sing to the prompting andaccompaniment of Steward's voice, who would begin by wailing "kow-kow"long and sadly, and then branch out on some old song or ballad. Michaelhad hated to sing with Kwaque, but he loved to do it with Steward, evenwhen Steward brought him on deck to perform before the laughter-shriekingpassengers.
Two serious conversations were held by the steward toward the close ofthe voyage: one with Captain Duncan and one with Michael.
"It's this way, Killeny," Daughtry began, one evening, Michael's headresting on his lord's knees as he gazed adoringly up into his lord'sface, understanding no whit of what was spoken but loving the intimacythe sounds betokened. "I stole you for beer money, an' when I saw youthere on the beach that night I knew you'd bring ten quid anywheres. Tenquid's a horrible lot of money. Fifty dollars in the way the Yankeesreckon it, an' a hundred Mex in China fashion.
"Now, fifty dollars gold 'd buy beer to beat the band--enough to drown meif I fell in head first. Yet I want to ask you one question. Can yousee me takin' ten quid for you? . . . Go on. Speak up. Can you?"
And Michael, with thumps of tail to the floor and a high sharp bark,showed that he was in entire agreement with whatever had been propounded.
"Or say twenty quid, now. That's a fair offer. Would I? Eh! Would I?Not on your life. What d'ye say to fifty quid? That might begin tointerest me, but a hundred quid would interest me more. Why, a hundredquid all in beer 'd come pretty close to floatin' this old hooker. Butwho in Sam Hill'd offer a hundred quid? I'd like to clap eyes on himonce, that's all, just once. D'ye want to know what for? All right.I'll whisper it. So as I could tell him to go to hell. Sure, KillenyBoy, just like that--oh, most polite, of course, just a kindly directin'of his steps where he'd never suffer from frigid extremities."
Michael's love for Steward was so profound as almost to be a mad butenduring infatuation. What the steward's regard for Michael was comingto be was best evidenced by his conversation with Captain Duncan.
"Sure, sir, he must 've followed me on board," Daughtry finished hisunveracious recital. "An' I never knew it. Last I seen of 'm was on thebeach. Next I seen of 'm there, he was fast asleep in my bunk. Nowhow'd he get there, sir? How'd he pick out my room? I leave it to you,sir. I call it marvellous, just plain marvellous."
"With a quartermaster at the head of the gangway!" Captain Duncansnorted. "As if I didn't know your tricks, Steward. There's nothingmarvellous about it. Just a plain case of steal. Followed you on board?That dog never came over the side. He came through a port-hole, and henever came through by himself. That nigger of yours, I'll wager, had ahand in the helping. But let's have done with beating about the bush.Give me the dog, and I'll say no more about the cat."
"Seein' you believe what you believe, then you'd be for compoundin' thefelony," Daughtry retorted, the habitual obstinate tightening of hisbrows showing which way his will set. "Me, sir, I'm only a ship'ssteward, an' it wouldn't mean nothin' at all bein' arrested fordog-stealin'; but you, sir, a captain of a fine steamer, how'd it soundfor you, sir? No, sir; it'd be much wiser for me to keep the dog thatfollowed me aboard."
"I'll give ten pounds in the bargain," the captain proffered.
"No, it wouldn't do, it wouldn't do at all, sir, an' you a captain," thesteward continued to reiterate, rolling his head sombrely. "Besides, Iknow where's a peach of an Angora in Sydney. The owner is gone to thecountry an' has no further use of it, an' it'd be a kindness to the cat,air to give it a good regular home like the _Makambo_."