Omoo: Adventures in the South SeasMelville, Herman
General
Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas
Melville, Herman
Adventure stories; Polynesia -- Description and travel -- Fiction
But an event occurred about this period, which, in removing by far the
most pitiable cases of suffering, tended to make less grating to my
feelings the subsequent conduct of the crew.
We had been at sea about twenty days, when two of the sick who had
rapidly grown worse, died one night within an hour of each other.
One occupied a bunk right next to mine, and for several days had not
risen from it. During this period he was often delirious, starting up
and glaring around him, and sometimes wildly tossing his arms.
On the night of his decease, I retired shortly after the middle watch
began, and waking from a vague dream of horrors, felt something clammy
resting on me. It was the sick man’s hand. Two or three times during
the evening previous, he had thrust it into my bunk, and I had quietly
removed it; but now I started and flung it from me. The arm fell stark
and stiff, and I knew that he was dead.
Waking the men, the corpse was immediately rolled up in the strips of
blanketing upon which it lay, and carried on deck. The mate was then
called, and preparations made for an instantaneous’ burial. Laying the
body out on the forehatch, it was stitched up in one of the hammocks,
some “kentledge” being placed at the feet instead of shot. This done,
it was borne to the gangway, and placed on a plank laid across the
bulwarks. Two men supported the inside end. By way of solemnity, the
ship’s headway was then stopped by hauling aback the main-top-sail.
The mate, who was far from being sober, then staggered up, and holding
on to a shroud, gave the word. As the plank tipped, the body slid off
slowly, and fell with a splash into the sea. A bubble or two, and
nothing more was seen.
“Brace forward!” The main-yard swung round to its place, and the ship
glided on, whilst the corpse, perhaps, was still sinking.
We had tossed a shipmate to the sharks, but no one would have thought
it, to have gone among the crew immediately after. The dead man had
been a churlish, unsocial fellow, while alive, and no favourite; and
now that he was no more, little thought was bestowed upon him. All that
was said was concerning the disposal of his chest, which, having been
always kept locked, was supposed to contain money. Someone volunteered
to break it open, and distribute its contents, clothing and all, before
the captain should demand it.
While myself and others were endeavouring to dissuade them from this,
all started at a cry from the forecastle. There could be no one there
but two of the sick, unable to crawl on deck. We went below, and found
one of them dying on a chest. He had fallen out of his hammock in a
fit, and was insensible. The eyes were open and fixed, and his breath
coming and going convulsively. The men shrunk from him; but the doctor,
taking his hand, held it a few moments in his, and suddenly letting it
fall, exclaimed, “He’s gone!” The body was instantly borne up the
ladder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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