Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66 No.406, August 1849Various
General
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66 No.406, August 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
other holding the slippers, "this won't do! You'd better not _rile_ me
again, you cussed niggur you--out o' my way!" There they went at it
along the poop together, Mr Snout striding right forward with his long
legs, and the kitmagar hopping backward out of his way, as he tried to
make himself understood; till, all at once, the poor fellow lost his
balance at the ladder-head, and over he went with a smash fit to have
broken his neck, if the captain's broad back hadn't fortunately been
there to receive it. The rage of Sir Charles at this was quite beyond
joking; nothing else would satisfy him but the unlucky Yankee's being
shoved off the poop by main force, and taken below--the one stamping
and roaring like an old buffalo, and the other testifying against all
"aristocratycal _ty_ranny."
At eight bells, again, I found it a fine breezy night, the two upper
mates walking the weather quarterdeck in blue-water style, six steps
and a look to windward, then a wheel round, and, now and then, a glance
into the binnacle. I went aft and leant over the Seringapatam's lee
quarter, looking at the white backwash running aft from her bows, in
green sparks, into the smooth alongside, and the surge coming round
her counter to meet it. Everything was set aloft that could draw, even
to a starboard main-topmast-stunsail; the high Indiaman being lighter
than if homeward-bound, and the breeze strong abeam, she had a good
heel-over to port: but she went easily through the water, and it was
only at the other side you heard it rattling both ways along the bends.
The shadow of her went far to leeward, except where a gleam came on
the top of a wave or two between the sails and under their foot. Just
below the sheer of the hull aft it was as dark as night, though now
and then the light from a port struck on it and went in again; but
every time she sank, the bight of her wake from astern swelled up away
round the counter, with its black side as smooth as a looking-glass. I
kept peering into it, and expecting to see my own face, while all the
time I was very naturally thinking of one quite different, and felt
uneasy till I should actually see her. "Confound it!" I thought, "were
it only a house, one might walk round and round it till he found out
the window!" I fancied her bewitching face through the garden door,
as clearly as if I saw it in the dark head of the swell; but I'd have
given more only to hear that imp of a cockatoo scream once--whereas
there was nothing but the water working up into the rudder-case; the
pintles creaking, and the tiller-ropes cheeping as they traversed;
and the long welter of the sea when the ship eased down, with the
surgeon and his friends walking about and laughing up to windward.
From that, again, I ran on putting things together, till, in fact,
Jacobs's notion of a shipwreck seemed by far the best. No doubt Jacobs
and Westwood, with a few others, would be saved, while I didn't even
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account