List, Ye Landsmen! A Romance of IncidentRussell, William Clark
General
List, Ye Landsmen! A Romance of Incident
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 19th century; Sea stories
The fellows had a homely, comfortable appearance. The slop-chest had
supplied the vacancies in their own bags, and they were clad as men who
were starting on, not returning from, a long voyage. Their health was
good. Some were fat, all hearty. I scanned them swiftly but with
attention, and saw nothing to occasion uneasiness; and I believe I could
not be mistaken, for of all living beings the sailor is the most
transparent in his moods and meanings. A few I have known who were dark
and subtle; they were not Englishmen, neither were they Dutchmen. The
English sailor gets a face at sea that prohibits the concealment of
feelings and passions, and, on board the merchant ship, he will look the
thing that is in him.
“Am I captain? Is it understood?”
“Ay, captain, of course,” exclaimed Teach after a pause, as though the
men had waited for one of them to act as spokesman. “If not you, who?
and if it’s who, vhere do ’ee sling his hammock? Not forrads. All the
larnin’s been washed aft out o’ that.”
“Mr. Yan Bol is your chief mate.”
“Ay, Mr. Yan Bol is chief mate. Who but him?” said Teach.
“Now choose a second mate, lads.”
“Is he to live aft?” said Friend.
“That’s as he chooses.”
“There’ll be no man wants to live aft,” exclaimed Street.
“I will live aft,” said Antonio.
“Yaw, towed in der vake, you beastly man,” thundered Bol. “Dot was aft
for der likes of you.”
“I will live aft, señor,” said Antonio.
“Curse your impudence, I’ll aft ye. Now, look. There are four Dutchmen
and seven Englishmen, not reckoning two Spaniards.”
“Don’t count them Johnnies, sir,” said Travers.
“It vhas oudt dey go mit dem soon, I allow,” said Hals, the cook.
Paying no attention to these interruptions, I continued:
“A Dutchman is already mate. If I choose another Dutchman you Englishmen
mayn’t like it. Now then.”
“Choose, sir,” exclaimed Call.
“I choose Galen,” said I.
There was a general grin, and Friend called out:
“We’re satisfied.”
“Then Galen it is,” said I. “Galen, you now act second. Will you live
aft, Galen?”
“May I pe dommed if I lifs aft!” exclaimed he, with a wide grin and a
slow wag of his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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