Wolf Larsen! he snorted a moment later. Listen to the word, will ye! Wolf tis what he is. Hes not black-hearted like some men. Tis no heart he has at all. Wolf, just wolf, tis what he is. Dye wonder hes well named?
But if he is so well-known for what he is, I queried, how is it that he can get men to ship with him?
An how is it ye can get men to do anything on Gods earth an sea? Louis demanded with Celtic fire. How dye find me aboard if twasnt that I was drunk as a pig when I put me name down? Theres them that cant sail with better men, like the hunters, and them that dont know, like the poor devils of wind-jammers forard there. But theyll come to it, theyll come to it, an be sorry the day they was born. I could weep for the poor creatures, did I but forget poor old fat Louis and the troubles before him. But tis not a whisper Ive dropped, mind ye, not a whisper.
Them hunters is the wicked boys, he broke forth again, for he suffered from a constitutional plethora of speech. But wait till they get to cutting up iv jinks and rowin round. Hes the boyll fix em. Tis him thatll put the fear of God in their rotten black hearts. Look at that hunter iv mine, Horner. Jock Horner they call him, so quiet-like an easy-goin, soft-spoken as a girl, till yed think butter wouldnt melt in the mouth iv him[49]. Didnt he kill his boat-steerer last year? Twas called a sad accident, but I met the boat-puller in Yokohama an the straight iv it was given me. An theres Smoke, the black little devil didnt the Roosians have him for three years in the salt mines of Siberia, for poachin on Copper Island, which is a Roosian preserve? Shackled he was, hand an foot, with his mate. An didnt they have words or a ruction of some kind? for twas the other fellow Smoke sent up in the buckets to the top of the mine; an a piece at a time he went up, a leg to-day, an to-morrow an arm, the next day the head, an so on.
But you cant mean it! I cried out, overcome with the horror of it.
Mean what! he demanded, quick as a flash. Tis nothin Ive said. Deef I am, and dumb, as ye should be for the sake iv your mother; an never once have I opened me lips but to say fine things iv them an him, God curse his soul, an may he rot in purgatory ten thousand years, and then go down to the last an deepest hell iv all!
Johnson, the man who had chafed me raw when I first came aboard, seemed the least equivocal of the men forward or aft. In fact, there was nothing equivocal about him. One was struck at once by his straightforwardness and manliness, which, in turn, were tempered by a modesty which might be mistaken for timidity. But timid he was not. He seemed, rather, to have the courage of his convictions, the certainty of his manhood. It was this that made him protest, at the commencement of our acquaintance, against being called Yonson. And upon this, and him, Louis passed judgment and prophecy.
Tis a fine chap, that squarehead Johnson weve forard with us, he said. The best sailorman in the focsle. Hes my boat-puller. But its to trouble hell come with Wolf Larsen, as the sparks fly upward[50]. Its meself that knows. I can see it brewin an comin up like a storm in the sky. Ive talked to him like a brother, but its little he sees in takin in his lights or flyin false signals. He grumbles out when things dont go to suit him, and therell be always some tell-tale carryin word iv it aft to the Wolf. The Wolf is strong, and its the way of a wolf to hate strength, an strength it is hell see in Johnson no knucklin under, and a Yes, sir, thank ye kindly, sir, for a curse or a blow. Oh, shes a-comin! Shes a-comin! An God knows where Ill get another boat-puller! What does the fool up an say, when the old man calls him Yonson, but Me name is Johnson, sir, an then spells it out, letter for letter. Ye should iv seen the old mans face! I thought hed let drive at him on the spot.[51] He didnt, but he will, an hell break that squareheads heart, or its little I know iv the ways iv men on the ships iv the sea.
Thomas Mugridge is becoming unendurable. I am compelled to Mister him and to Sir him with every speech. One reason for this is that Wolf Larsen seems to have taken a fancy to him. It is an unprecedented thing, I take it, for a captain to be chummy with the cook; but this is certainly what Wolf Larsen is doing. Two or three times he put his head into the galley and chaffed Mugridge good-naturedly, and once, this afternoon, he stood by the break of the poop and chatted with him for fully fifteen minutes. When it was over, and Mugridge was back in the galley, he became greasily radiant, and went about his work, humming coster songs in a nerve-racking and discordant falsetto.
I always get along with the officers, he remarked to me in a confidential tone. I know the wy, I do, to myke myself uppreciyted. There was my last skipper wy I thought nothin of droppin down in the cabin for a little chat and a friendly glass. Mugridge, sez e to me, Mugridge, sez e, youve missed yer vokytion. An ows that? sez I. Yer should a been born a gentleman, an never ad to work for yer livin. God strike me dead, Ump, if that aynt wot e sez, an me a-sittin there in is own cabin, jolly-like an comfortable, a-smokin is cigars an drinkin is rum.
This chitter-chatter drove me to distraction. I never heard a voice I hated so. His oily, insinuating tones, his greasy smile and his monstrous self-conceit grated on my nerves till sometimes I was all in a tremble. Positively, he was the most disgusting and loathsome person I have ever met. The filth of his cooking was indescribable; and, as he cooked everything that was eaten aboard, I was compelled to select what I ate with great circumspection, choosing from the least dirty of his concoctions.
My hands bothered me a great deal, unused as they were to work. The nails were discoloured and black, while the skin was already grained with dirt which even a scrubbing-brush could not remove. Then blisters came, in a painful and never-ending procession, and I had a great burn on my forearm, acquired by losing my balance in a roll of the ship and pitching against the galley stove. Nor was my knee any better. The swelling had not gone down, and the cap was still up on edge. Hobbling about on it from morning till night was not helping it any. What I needed was rest, if it were ever to get well.
Rest! I never before knew the meaning of the word. I had been resting all my life and did not know it. But now, could I sit still for one half-hour and do nothing, not even think, it would be the most pleasurable thing in the world. But it is a revelation, on the other hand. I shall be able to appreciate the lives of the working people hereafter. I did not dream that work was so terrible a thing. From half-past five in the morning till ten oclock at night I am everybodys slave, with not one moment to myself, except such as I can steal near the end of the second dog-watch. Let me pause for a minute to look out over the sea sparkling in the sun, or to gaze at a sailor going aloft to the gaff-topsails, or running out the bowsprit, and I am sure to hear the hateful voice, Ere, you, Ump, no sodgerin, Ive got my peepers on yer[52].
There are signs of rampant bad temper in the steerage, and the gossip is going around that Smoke and Henderson have had a fight. Henderson seems the best of the hunters, a slow-going fellow, and hard to rouse; but roused he must have been, for Smoke had a bruised and discoloured eye, and looked particularly vicious when he came into the cabin for supper.
There are signs of rampant bad temper in the steerage, and the gossip is going around that Smoke and Henderson have had a fight. Henderson seems the best of the hunters, a slow-going fellow, and hard to rouse; but roused he must have been, for Smoke had a bruised and discoloured eye, and looked particularly vicious when he came into the cabin for supper.
A cruel thing happened just before supper, indicative of the callousness and brutishness of these men. There is one green hand in the crew, Harrison by name, a clumsy-looking country boy, mastered, I imagine, by the spirit of adventure, and making his first voyage. In the light baffling airs the schooner had been tacking about a great deal, at which times the sails pass from one side to the other and a man is sent aloft to shift over the fore-gaff-topsail. In some way, when Harrison was aloft, the sheet jammed in the block through which it runs at the end of the gaff. As I understood it, there were two ways of getting it cleared, first, by lowering the foresail, which was comparatively easy and without danger; and second, by climbing out the peak-halyards to the end of the gaff itself, an exceedingly hazardous performance.
Johansen called out to Harrison to go out the halyards. It was patent to everybody that the boy was afraid. And well he might be, eighty feet above the deck, to trust himself on those thin and jerking ropes. Had there been a steady breeze it would not have been so bad, but the Ghost was rolling emptily in a long sea, and with each roll the canvas flapped and boomed and the halyards slacked and jerked taut. They were capable of snapping a man off like a fly from a whip-lash.
Harrison heard the order and understood what was demanded of him, but hesitated. It was probably the first time he had been aloft in his life. Johansen, who had caught the contagion of Wolf Larsens masterfulness, burst out with a volley of abuse and curses.
Thatll do, Johansen, Wolf Larsen said brusquely. Ill have you know that I do the swearing on this ship[53]. If I need your assistance, Ill call you in.
Yes, sir, the mate acknowledged submissively.
In the meantime Harrison had started out on the halyards. I was looking up from the galley door, and I could see him trembling, as if with ague, in every limb. He proceeded very slowly and cautiously, an inch at a time. Outlined against the clear blue of the sky, he had the appearance of an enormous spider crawling along the tracery of its web.
It was a slight uphill climb, for the foresail peaked high; and the halyards, running through various blocks on the gaff and mast[54], gave him separate holds for hands and feet. But the trouble lay in that the wind was not strong enough nor steady enough to keep the sail full. When he was half-way out, the Ghost took a long roll to windward and back again into the hollow between two seas. Harrison ceased his progress and held on tightly. Eighty feet beneath, I could see the agonized strain of his muscles as he gripped for very life. The sail emptied and the gaff swung amidships. The halyards slackened, and, though it all happened very quickly, I could see them sag beneath the weight of his body. Then the gag swung to the side with an abrupt swiftness, the great sail boomed like a cannon, and the three rows of reef-points slatted against the canvas like a volley of rifles. Harrison, clinging on, made the giddy rush through the air. This rush ceased abruptly. The halyards became instantly taut. It was the snap of the whip. His clutch was broken. One hand was torn loose from its hold. The other lingered desperately for a moment, and followed. His body pitched out and down, but in some way he managed to save himself with his legs. He was hanging by them, head downward. A quick effort brought his hands up to the halyards again; but he was a long time regaining his former position, where he hung, a pitiable object.
Ill bet he has no appetite for supper, I heard Wolf Larsens voice, which came to me from around the corner of the galley. Stand from under, you, Johansen! Watch out! Here she comes!
In truth, Harrison was very sick, as a person is sea-sick; and for a long time he clung to his precarious perch without attempting to move. Johansen, however, continued violently to urge him on to the completion of his task.
It is a shame, I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me. The boy is willing enough. He will learn if he has a chance. But this is He paused awhile, for the word murder was his final judgment.
Hist, will ye! Louis whispered to him. For the love iv your mother hold your mouth!
But Johnson, looking on, still continued his grumbling.
Look here, the hunter Standish spoke to Wolf Larsen, thats my boat-puller, and I dont want to lose him.
Thats all right, Standish, was the reply. Hes your boat-puller when youve got him in the boat; but hes my sailor when I have him aboard, and Ill do what I damn well please with him.
But thats no reason Standish began in a torrent of speech.
Thatll do, easy as she goes, Wolf Larsen counselled back. Ive told you whats what, and let it stop at that. The mans mine, and Ill make soup of him and eat it if I want to.
There was an angry gleam in the hunters eye, but he turned on his heel and entered the steerage companion-way, where he remained, looking upward. All hands were on deck now, and all eyes were aloft, where a human life was at grapples with death. The callousness of these men, to whom industrial organization gave control of the lives of other men, was appalling. I, who had lived out of the whirl of the world, had never dreamed that its work was carried on in such fashion. Life had always seemed a peculiarly sacred thing, but here it counted for nothing, was a cipher in the arithmetic of commerce. I must say, however, that the sailors themselves were sympathetic, as instance the case of Johnson; but the masters (the hunters and the captain) were heartlessly indifferent. Even the protest of Standish arose out of the fact that he did not wish to lose his boat-puller. Had it been some other hunters boat-puller, he, like them, would have been no more than amused.
But to return to Harrison. It took Johansen, insulting and reviling the poor wretch, fully ten minutes to get him started again. A little later he made the end of the gaff, where, astride the spar itself, he had a better chance for holding on. He cleared the sheet, and was free to return, slightly downhill now, along the halyards to the mast. But he had lost his nerve. Unsafe as was his present position, he was loath to forsake it for the more unsafe position on the halyards.
He looked along the airy path he must traverse, and then down to the deck. His eyes were wide and staring, and he was trembling violently. I had never seen fear so strongly stamped upon a human face. Johansen called vainly for him to come down. At any moment he was liable to be snapped off the gaff, but he was helpless with fright. Wolf Larsen, walking up and down with Smoke and in conversation, took no more notice of him, though he cried sharply, once, to the man at the wheel:
Youre off your course, my man! Be careful, unless youre looking for trouble!
Ay, ay, sir, the helmsman responded, putting a couple of spokes down[55].
He had been guilty of running the Ghost several points off her course in order that what little wind there was should fill the foresail and hold it steady. He had striven to help the unfortunate Harrison at the risk of incurring Wolf Larsens anger.