The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, No. 05, May 1891: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, No. 05, May 1891: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
"Peter!" roared Black Sam, "we men have knocked off work till we're
righted. If you lend the capt'n a hand, and side with him agin us----"
And again he advanced his enormous arm and caused his fist to writhe.
"Mr. Cheeps," said Peter, "take this vheel; I am onvell;" and letting
go the spokes, the Dutchman marched forward and joined his shipmates,
who roared out a defiant huzza as the whole eight of them, with the
cook in their wake, made their way to the forecastle and disappeared.
Sailors have no friends, and Captain Jones knew it. There are societies
in Great Britain for the prevention of the ill-usage of most things
living, from women to dogs, from children to dickybirds, but there is
no society for the prevention of cruelty to sailors. Captain Jones knew
that he had the power to starve his men into compliance. Nevertheless,
he passed a very uneasy night. When the morning broke, he and the Only
Mate and Mr. Chips were nearly dead of fatigue, for wind had risen
in the hours of darkness, and the ship was a big one, and there were
but two men, the third being at the wheel, to let go and clew up, and
haul down and make snug as best two men might. When the morning broke,
Captain Jones looked as if he had just come out of hospital; Mr. Chips,
who stood at the wheel, might readily have passed for a man of seventy;
and the Only Mate, who was lighting the galley-fire, showed as if he
had been towed overboard during the greater part of the night.
"Those blackguards in the forecastle will be wanting their breakfast,"
said the captain, "and you'll have them laying aft presently and asking
to turn to."
The men, however, did not show themselves. They perfectly understood
that the ship could not be navigated as things went, and that the
captain must come round to their views before the day had passed,
and, indeed, long before the day passed should a change of weather
happen presently, and they grinned man after man as they furtively
peeped through the scuttle and saw old Chips at the wheel looking
seventy years old, and Captain Jones as though he was just come out of
hospital, and the Only Mate as though he had been towed overboard; and
they preserved their grin, man after man, as they looked aloft and saw
the unfurled royals and topgallant-sails fluttering, and the staysails
hanging loose, and the yards very ill-braced indeed.
[Illustration: "MR. CHIPS STOOD AT THE WHEEL."]
"We've got yesterday's muck of pork," said Black Sam, "and the bread
barge ain't empty. If the old man were the devil himself, we'd weather
him out. But the ship mustn't be allowed to sink this side of three
days;" and forthwith the sailors grimly rose through the hatch, and
in silence walked to the pumps, which they plied until they sucked,
and then returned to the forecastle. But there was no novelty in this
proceeding, for they had kept their faith with the captain, and at
every four hours throughout the night a gang had turned out to pump the
ship.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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