Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 65, No. 403, May, 1849Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 65, No. 403, May, 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
"Well, sir, as for the young run-away, 'twas all of a kick-up on the
quarterdeck about him; he couldn't speak a word of English, but he
hung on the mate's feet like one for bare life. Just then the captain
came on deck with two lady passengers, to take a look of the morning;
the poor fellow was spar-naked, and the ladies made a dive below
again. The captain saw the slave-brand on his shoulder, and he twigged
the whole matter at once; so he told the mate to get him a pair of
trousers, and a shirt, and put him to help the cook. Dido laughed
louder than ever when he found out the devil wasn't so black as he was
painted; and he was for indopting the youngster, by way of a sort o'
jury son. However, the whole of the fok'sle took a fancy to him,
considering him a kind of right to all hands. He was christened Jack,
as I said before, and instead of hanging on, cook's mate, he was put
up to something more seaman-like. By the time the Mary Jane got home,
black Jack could set a stunsail, or furl a royal. We got Dido to give
him a regular-built sartificate on his breast, of his being free to
blue water, footing paid, and under the British union-jack, which
'twas the same as you saw just now, sir."
"Well," said I, "but you haven't explained why he was called by such a
curious appellation as Moonlight, though?"
"Hold on a bit, sir," said the boatswain, "that's not the whole affair
from end to end, yet. The next voyage I sailed again in the Mary Jane
to Jamaica, for I always had a way of sticking to the same ship, when
I could. I remember Dido, the cook, had a quarrel with his wife,
Nancy; and one of the first nights we were at sea, he told black Jack,
before all the fok'sle, how he meant to leave him all his savings,
which everybody knew was no small thing, for Dido never spent any of
his wages, and many a good cask of slush the old nigger had pocketed
the worth of. We made a fine run of it that time down the Trades, till
we got into the latitude of the Bahamas, and there the ship stuck like
a log, with blue water round her, as hot as blazes, and as smooth as
glass, or a bowl of oil. Once or twice we had a black squall that sent
her on a bit, or another that drove her back, with a heavy swell, and
now and then a light air, which we made the most of--setting
stunsails, and hauling 'em down again in a plash of rain. But,
altogether, we thought we'd never get out of them horse latitudes at
all, having run over much to west'ard, till we saw the line of the
Gulf Stream treading away on the sea line to nor'west, as plain as on
a chart. There was a confounded devil of a shark alongside, that stuck
by us all through, one of the largest I ever clapped eyes on. Every
night we saw him cruising away astarn, as green as glass, down through
the blue water; and in the morning, there he was under the counter,
with his back fin above, and two little pilot-fish swimming off and on
round about. He wouldn't take the bait either; and every man forud
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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