Leonard Lindsay ;

by Angus B. Reach

Accordingly the piragua was speedily floating alongside the great ship, and, following Rumbold, as I may now call him, I clambered up the high sides. But what a sight did the deck present to me—a sailor hitherto accustomed to orderly vessels. Strewn everywhere about were great heaps of luggage and ship stores—trunks and mails mingled with coils of rope, and masses of sails—buckets, boat anchors, flags, handspikes, and what not—while, tumbled hither and thither in this chaos, sprawled more than a score of drunken seamen, some of them fast asleep and snoring, with empty bottles and glasses still grasped in their hands—others, still sitting up, babbling and singing, in maudlin fashion, over their liquor—or disputing fiercely with thickened speech and bloodshot eyes. The relics of a feast lay scattered over the decks, slippery with the wine and liquors spilt upon them. There were broken glasses and empty flasks, the smashed fragments of tobacco-pipes, divers dice-boxes, and packs of greasy cards. But the principal object on which my attention dwelt was the form of a stalwart, big-limbed sailor, who lay with his head resting on the knee of a man who was tending a hurt upon his temples. Looking more closely, I saw that the wounded man had received a desperate slash with a knife, which had laid open the side of his forehead and part of the cheek, narrowly missing the eye. From this gash the blood was pouring fast, while the surgeon, for such he was, who tended the wounded man, cleaned the ghastly cut, from time to time, with sponges dipped in hot water, while he prepared his instruments to sew it up. The patient was insensible, breathing hard and loud, and having his glazed eyes open, and gleaming with a wild, vacant stare. As I gazed, I immediately comprehended that it was the cry uttered by this man, as he was wounded, which had alarmed us in the piragua, and looking towards the bows, I saw a fellow, with his doublet-sleeve all bloody, being marched off in custody by a group of his comrades—all high in oath at the cowardly hound of a Portuguese, (as they called him,) who had used his knife instead of his fists in a quarrel among friends.

Meantime, Rumbold seemed to be heartily welcomed by the more sober part of the crew, with the captain, as I judged him, at their head. This captain was a long gaunt man, with a slouching gait, and lank black hair falling straight down upon his shoulders. He had such a squint that it was, as I afterwards knew, a common saying in the ship about Le Chiffon Rouge—for such he, being a Frenchman, was called—that no one could tell at any moment whether he was looking forward or aft, up to the vane on the mast-head, or down into the hold. This ill-favoured personage—for besides his squinting eye he had an ugly hare lip, showing tusks which would not have been out of place in the jaw of a boar,—this ill-favoured personage, I say, protested loudly that his good friend Rumbold must positively sail out the cruize with them—that he would not be denied—and that the hills of Jamaica being in sight, for the mist had rapidly cleared away with the rising of the sun, the two Indians could very well carry home the piragua, while hammocks would be slung aboard for the worthy pearl merchant and his friend—meaning me. The captain was well seconded in these propositions by the chief mate, who was an Englishman, a coarse, fat personage, with bristling red hair, a ferocious expression, and a loud harsh voice. He was called Jerry, and I soon found that he was the real commander of the ship; Le Chiffon Rouge yielding to his judgment in all cases of emergency, and the pair keeping very close together. Now, for my own part, I was much puzzled to know the reason of this welcome, which was so much warmer than we wished for. If the ship was a friendly one, why did not she go her way and leave us to go ours, instead of detaining us prisoners; for that was what the affair actually came to, on board. I saw that Rumbold’s countenance was clouded, and that, although he put a good face on the matter, he would have freely given a round sum for a start of a league or so in the piragua. But wishing was useless. The Indians, who continued in the canoe, were, to their great astonishment, ordered to run for Port Royal, and to take word that Mr. Rumbold had joined the good ship, ‘Saucy Susan,’ for a short run down by the Mosquito coast, and that she might be expected in Jamaica in a few weeks. By this time the morning trade-wind was beginning to blow, and the piragua speedily crept away, wafted by its first faint fannings. Then Jerry suddenly began to bestir himself—

‘Here,’ he shouted, ‘here men, clear away the decks, fore and aft. You, boatswain, get the yards braced, and put all things aloft ship-shape and Bristol fashion. What! d——n my eyes, is the ship to be always in this cursed mess? Here, you two boatswain’s mates, come and kick these drunken hogs. Overboard with barrel and bucket. Draw water, will you, and souse these fellows who are littering the deck, soundly. Curse and confound me, but a parcel of wild Indians would have more decency aboard ship! Doctor, how is that fellow’s skull? We shall serve out the thief who cut him, presently. Come, men, look alive there, or by all the devils dancing in hell, I’ll make you feel the flat of my cutlass!’

At this energetic speech there was a general bustle on deck. About half of the drunken fellows staggered to their feet, and began to tumble about, half asleep, lurching and pitching against each other, owing to the roll of the ship.

‘Quick, will you there!’ Jerry roared; ‘get the buckets full, and baptise these brandy kegs;’ pointing to the drunkards, who were still sleeping. In a minute a dozen pails were over the ship’s sides, and immediately, amid shouts of jeering and laughter, copious floods of the cooling brine were dashed over the heads and bodies of the snorers, who started up all bewildered, shouting and spluttering, half-choked, and swearing at such scurvy treatment. However, in a few minutes a wonderful transformation was effected—the decks were cleared—those of the crew who had not sufficiently slept off their debauch to be able to resume their duty, were tumbled down the hatches to their hammocks—the yards were braced properly for the course which we were lying—a steady-looking old seaman was at the wheel, and the ‘Saucy Susan’ began to move slowly upon her course, rising heavily to the seas, and butting at them with her great broad bows as they came rolling past.

Meantime, I kept alongside of Rumbold—to whom the captain was explaining, with great gravity, that having last night taken a small Spanish sloop, aboard which there was very excellent wine, the greater part of the crew had been drunk all night, a thing, he admitted, not very seamanlike: ‘But what then—what could he do? Messieurs les aventuriers would have their way.’ Presently, however, stepping forward to confer with Jerry, who was certainly bringing the ship into hand again, in the style of a man who knows his business, Rumbold whispered to me:

‘I know something of this ship. She is manned by the worst set of rogues who sail from Jamaica. There may be some honest men aboard, but both the Frenchman and Jerry, his mate, are as great rascals as ever rode colt foaled of an acorn, and I doubt it not but that a crew of their choosing will be found to match bravely.’

I inquired what he thought were the reasons which induced them to detain us on board?

‘Why, as to that,’ says he, ‘I doubt not but that some of the rogues have a shrewd guess where I come from, and that I have pearls of price about me. I hardly think they would rob me openly and divide the booty in the face of day, but there are dozens of these cursed jail birds who would think no more of drawing a knife across a man’s weasand while he slept, if that would help them to filch a brass-farthing’s worth, than I would of smoking a whiff of tobacco.’

Then Rumbold asked whether I recognised the young fellow who first hailed him by name? and presently pointed him out, laughing and talking to Jerry. ‘I know the rascal well,’ said the pearl merchant. ‘He hath nimble wits and nimble fingers. I warrant ’twas he first tipped Jerry and the captain the wink in this matter. If it be so, depend upon it that the three intend to keep the thing snug to themselves, and share the plunder—that is, if they can get it.’