Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper: A Story of Cape CodCooper, James A.
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Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper: A Story of Cape Cod
Cooper, James A.
Cape Cod (Mass.) -- Fiction
"Yes, _ma'am_," he was saying, "them that go down to the sea in ships,
as the Good Book says, sartain sure meet with hair-raisin' experiences.
You jumped then, ma'am, when old Jerry let out a peep. He was just
tryin' his voice I make no doubt. Ain't sung for months they say. I
didn't know why till I--I found out t'other day he was blind---stone
blind.
"Some thinks birds don't know nothing, or ain't much account in this
man-world----But, as I was sayin', I lay another course. I'll never
forget one v'y'ge I made on the brigantine _Hermione_. That was 'fore
the day of steam-winches and we carried a big crew--thirty-two men
for'ard and a big after-guard.
"Well, ma'am! Whilst she was hove down in a blow off the Horn an
albatross came aboard. You know what they be--the one bird in all the
seven seas that don't us'ally need a dry spot for the sole of his foot.
If Noah had sent out one from the ark he'd never have come back with
any sprig of promise for the land-hungry wanderers shut up in that
craft.
"'Tis bad luck they do say to kill an albatross. Some sailors claim
ev'ry one o' them is inhabited by a lost soul. I ain't superstitious
myself. I'm only telling you what happened.
"Dunno why that bird boarded us. Mebbe he was hurt some way. Mebbe
'twas fate. But he swooped right inboard, his wing brushing the men at
the wheel. Almost knocked one o' them down. He was a Portugee man
named Tony Spadello and he had a re'l quick temper.
"Tony had his knife out in a flash and jumped for the creature. The
other steersman yelled (one man couldn't rightly hold the wheel alone,
the sea was kicking up such a bobberation) but Tony's one slash was
enough. The albatross tumbled right down on the deck, a great cut in
its throat. It bled like a dog shark, cluttering up the deck."
"Horrid!" murmured Mrs. Conroth with a shudder of disgust.
"Yes--the poor critter!" agreed Cap'n Amazon. "I never like to see
innocent, dumb brutes killed. Cap'n Hicks--he was a young man in them
days, and boastful--cursed the mess it made, yanked off the bird's
head, so's to have the beautiful pink beak of it made into the head of
a walking-stick, and ordered Tony to throw the carcass overboard and
clean up the deck. I went to the wheel in his stead, with Jim Ledward.
Jim says to me: 'Am'zon, that bird'll foller us. Can't git rid of it
so easy as _that_.'
"I thought he was crazy," went on Cap'n Amazon, shaking his head. "I
wasn't projectin' much about superstitions. No, ma'am! We had all we
could do--the two of us--handlin' the wheel with them old graybacks
huntin' us. Them old he waves hunt in droves mostly, and when one did
board us we couldn't scarce get clear of the wash of it before another
would rise right up over our rail and fill the waist, or mebbe sweep
ev'rything clean from starn to bowsprit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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