by Max Brand
CHAPTER 31
She released their hands; the door closed upon them; they stood facingeach other on the deck in the dark.
"McTee," said Harrigan with deep emotion, "we're swine. We were aboutto fight before--her."
"Harrigan," said McTee, "we _are_ swine. But when the time comes, we'llmake up for it to her. If you hear a word in the forecastle, let meknow about it; if I hear a word in the captain's cabin, I'll send foryou. I may be wrong. Henshaw may be in his right senses. We'll see. Inthe meantime there are just the two of us, Harrigan, and against usthere's a mutinous crew on one side and a mad captain, I think, on theother."
"There's no use in thinkin'," said Harrigan; "when the time comes,we'll fight. So long, Angus. When the trouble starts, our assemblin'point is Kate."
And he went forward to the forecastle. In the morning he discoveredwhat he wanted to know. The men were aloof from him. He was consciousof eyes upon him whenever his back was turned, but while he faced them,no one would meet his glance.
In some way Hovey had learned that Harrigan was no longer to be trustedas a member of the mutineers, and he must have spread his tidings amongthe rest of the sailors. What he sensed in those covert glances,however, was not an immediate danger, but rather a waiting--anexpectancy, and he deduced rightly that they would not attempt to lay ahand upon him until the mutiny was started. Then he would be reservedfor some lingering death as a traitor doubly dyed.
While they were eating breakfast, Hovey came in late with the word thatduring the night someone had tampered with the dynamo, and the resultwas that the ship must complete her voyage without electric lightsand--far more important--without the use of the wireless. Sam Hallstarted to blurt a comment on this, but a glance from Hovey silencedhim. It was plain that the bos'n would risk no conversation from hisblunt sailors while Harrigan was in earshot. The Irishman hurriedthrough his breakfast and took his bucket and scrubbing brush towardthe bridge, for he had many questions to ask McTee. He had scarcelyleft the forecastle when Hovey said to Garry Cochrane: "Watch the door.I've got something important to say."
Cochrane took up the designated position, and Hovey went on: "Lads,I've bad news, bad and good news together. The boats are gone--thoughwho the devil destroyed them we don't know--and now the wireless isdestroyed. The boats are a big loss, for now we'll have to rig up somesort of a raft to make shore when we beach the _Heron_. The busting ofthe wireless almost balances that loss. Now we're sure they can't slipout any quick wireless call that would bring a dozen ships after us.Bad news and good news together; and here's some more of the same kind.
"Henshaw has made up his mind to give Kamasura the whip. You know whatthat means? Well, I'll tell you. It means that after the first dozenstrokes--as Borgson will lay them on--Kamasura will break down and telleverything we don't want him to say. Understand? With the cabin warnedof what we're going to do, what chance would we have to take them? Sowe'll hang around close, lads, and the minute Kamasura opens his faceto say the wrong thing, we'll rush 'em--are you with me? And go for twomen first--Black McTee and Harrigan. With them out of the way we'llsimply chew up the rest. Try to take the others alive, but don't wasteany time with McTee and the Irishman. You can lay to it before youstart that they'll never be taken till they're dead."
For some minutes he talked on, appointing to each man or group of menthe work he would be expected to perform when Hovey gave the signal toattack, which would be one long blast on his whistle.
While they planned, Harrigan had reached the bridge and found McTeeimpatiently awaiting him.
"You're late," frowned the Scotchman. "What's happened in theforecastle?"
"Black looks on all sides, and no talk," said Harrigan.
"A falling barometer," nodded McTee, "and things are just as bad in thecabin. You've heard about the wireless breaking?"
"I have. What does it mean?"
"It may have been done by the mutineers. I doubt it. But that isn't allthat's happened. This is a pretty cool day for the tropics."
Harrigan stared at him, baffled by the sudden change of theconversation.
"It is cool," he assented.
"But in the fireroom it's hotter than it's been at any time since the_Heron_ started on this trip. The second assistant came up to complainto Henshaw, and I heard them.
"'There's something wrong with the air shafts,' he said to WhiteHenshaw.
"'Look here,' said Henshaw, 'I've had enough grumbling from thefireroom. Put a fan in the air shaft, and don't come up here again withany nonsense. D'you expect to find cool breezes in the South Seas? No,they're hot as fire--hot as fire--hot as fire!'
"He repeated those words three times over in a way that made my fleshcreep, and then he laughed. Even the second saw that something waswrong. He took a long look at Henshaw, and then he went out with hishead down."
"What did it all mean?" asked Harrigan.
"I don't know. I don't dare think what it means. But if my guess isright, then the _Heron_ is a lot nearer hell than even you and Iexpected. Look, there goes Fritz Klopp, the first assistant engineer.I'll wager he's got another complaint about the heat in the fireroom."
They watched Klopp go into the captain's cabin, waited a moment, andthen the door flew open and Klopp sprang out and fled aft like a manpursued. Henshaw came to the open door and peered after the engineerand laughed silently.
McTee muttered: "That's the way the devil laughs when he watches thedamned souls pass by."
Here Henshaw glanced up and saw them watching him from the bridge. Hisface altered suddenly to a malevolence so terrible that both the menstepped back. Harrigan was trembling like a hysterical girl. He lookedin the face of McTee and saw that the Scotchman had blanched. For along moment they exchanged glances, and then McTee went down from thebridge and entered the cabin.
Henshaw was not there. He had evidently gone into the inner room, andMcTee sat down to wait. The time had come for him to ask questions, andhe was nerving himself for the ordeal. His plans were disturbed by amuffled sound from the inner cabin, a sound so unusual that McTeestiffened in his chair with horror and then rose slowly.
Tiptoe he stole across the floor and laid a hand lightly on the knob ofthe door of the captain's private room. It turned easily without anycreak, and the door opened a few inches. There sat Henshaw with hisback to McTee, leaning over a table. Gold pieces were spilled looselyacross the surface of the wood--possibly the contents of three or fourof those small canvas bags--and Henshaw leaned forward with hisforehead resting upon the glittering yellow coins and one handclutching a quantity of them. His other hand held a photograph of thedead Beatrice. The sound continued. It was the low sobbing of thecaptain, a hoarse and horrible murmur.
McTee closed the door and went back onto the deck, for he suddenlyunderstood the futility of questions. Harrigan, in the meantime, hadwaited for the return of McTee, and when the latter did not come, theIrishman lingered on the bridge for an hour or more, pottering aboutwith his brush in a pretense of finishing up a perfect job. Hisattention was drawn then by a gathering crowd and bustle in the waistof the ship between the wheelhouse and the forecastle. The entire crewof the _Heron_ seemed to be mustering, with the exception of thoseneeded to keep the engines running. They stood in a circle, leaving thecover of the hatch clear.
He hurried down to witness the ceremony, and as he reached the waist,he saw Henshaw take up his position with folded arms in the very centerof the hatch. A moment later Kamasura was led up by Eric Borgson andJan Van Roos.
The two mates, under the direction of Henshaw, lashed the Japanese facedown upon the hatch, pulling his arms and legs taut with ropes thatfastened to the bolts on all sides of the hatch cover.
When he was securely tied, Kamasura was stripped to the waist, and thenHarrigan saw Borgson, grinning evilly, step up with a long whip in hishand. It was a blacksnake, heavily loaded and stiff at the butt andtapering gradually to a slender, supple, snakelike body, with a thin,sinister lash. Borgson whirled the whip around his
head to get itsbalance. Henshaw stepped back, still with folded arms.
"This fellow Kamasura," he announced to the crew, "has blown up theboats of the _Heron_. There's no doubt of it. Borgson caught him almostin the act. I could do worse things than this to Kamasura, but I'vedecided to flog him until he confesses."
There was not a word of answer from the crew; they waited, hushed,ominous. A whisper sounded in the ear of Harrigan, who stood withgritting teeth and clenched hands.
It was McTee who murmured: "Hold onto yourself, Harrigan. Our timehasn't come."
"I'll hold onto myself all right," said Harrigan, "but look at thecrew."
In fact, there was something more deadly than any snarling of a crowdin this unnatural silence of many men. Also they were not looking atKamasura; they were staring, every man, at the bos'n, who stood withhis whistle hanging from a cord around his neck.
"Begin!" said Henshaw.
The blacksnake whistled around the head of the third mate and there wasa long scream from Kamasura--but the blacksnake only cracked loudly inthe air. Borgson laughed with a hideous delight. Harrigan, sicklywhite, bowed his head. Again the blacksnake whirled and again itcracked, but this time on naked flesh, and the scream of Kamasura waslike the cut of a knife.
Again, again, and again the blacksnake fell, and now Kamasura twistedhis head toward the captain and cried in a voice made thin by pain andrage at once: "I confess! Captain, let me speak!"
At a gesture from Henshaw, the third mate reluctantly stepped back,drawing the lash of the blacksnake slowly through his hands with acaressing touch. Van Roos, the color completely gone from his usuallyblooming cheeks, cut the ropes, and Kamasura rose, facing the captain.He extended a naked, trembling arm toward Hovey.
"Mutiny!" he yelled. "The whole crew--the whole forecastle--mutiny,Cap'n Henshaw! I know--"
The piercing whistle of the bos'n cut into his speech, and the crewrolled forward over the hatch with a single shout that might have comefrom one throat except for its shrill volume.