Abel—Aw, more! Just another swaller——
Abel—[Crying weakly.] Yuh dirty mut!
Butler—[Quietly.] There! Don’t get riled. It only makes you hotter—and thirstier. [The boy sinks back exhausted and closes his eyes. Butler begins to talk in a more assured voice, as if the sip of water had renewed his courage.] That’ll save us yet, that bit of water. A lucky notion of mine to think of it—at the last moment. They were just lowering the boots. I could hear you calling to me to hurry and come. They didn’t care if I went down with that stinking whaling ship or not, damn them! What did the dirty cook matter to them? But I thought of filling this bottle. It’d been lying there in the galley for two years almost. I’d had it on my hip, full of whiskey, that night in Oakland when I was shanghied. So I filled it out of a bucket before I ran to the boat. Lucky I did, son—for you and me—not for them—damn ’em!
Abel—[Struggling to a sitting posture, evidently strengthened by his drink.] Gee if the Old Man was wise you got it——
Butler—He won’t know—nor Horne, nor Cates, nor Jimmy Kanaka, neither. [As if in self-justification.] Why should I tell ’em, eh? Did I ever get anything better than a kick or a curse from one of them? [Vindictively.] Would they give it to me if they had it? They’d see me in hell first! And besides, it’s too late for them. They’re mad as hatters right now, the four of them. They ain’t had a drop since three nights back, when the water in the cask gave out and we rowed up against this island in the dark. Think of it, and them out walking and roasting in the sun all day, looking for water where there ain’t any. Wouldn’t you be crazy? [Suddenly he laughs queerly.] Didn’t you hear them shouting and yelling like lunatics just before I came?
Abel—I thought I heard something—on’y maybe I was dreamin’.
Butler—It’s them that are doing the dreaming. I was with them. I had to go. [With rising anger.] He kicked me awake—and every time I tried to get away he beat me back. He’s strong yet—[With threatening vindictiveness.]—but he can’t last long, damn him! [Controlling himself, goes on with his story excitedly.] Well, we went looking for water—on this sand pile. Then Jimmy Kanaka saw a boat sunk half under down inside the reef—a Malay canoe, only bigger. They got down in her the best way they could, up to their waists in water. They thought there might be something to drink on her. I was trying to sneak off, scared to go in on account of sharks. All of a sudden they gave an awful yell. I thought they’d found something to drink and ran back. They was all standing about a box they’d forced open, yelling and cursing and out of their heads completely. When I looked I seen the box was full of all sorts of metal junk—bracelets and bands and necklaces that I guess the Malays wear. Nothing but brass and copper, and bum imitations of diamonds and things—not worth a dam; and there they were, shouting with joy and slapping each other on the back. And that hellion of a skipper shouts at me: “Get out of this! No share here for a stinking cook!” he yells. I didn’t say nothing but just picked up some of the stuff to make sure. Then I told him straight. “This ain’t gold. It’s brass and copper—not worth a damn.” God, he got wild! I had to run, or he’d knifed me—then and there. That was when I woke you up.
Abel—And ain’t it worth nothin’, honest? How’d you know it ain’t?
Butler—D’you think I ain’t learned to know gold in my time? And polished enough copper and brass to know them, too? Just as if it was gold it’d do ’em any good! You can’t drink gold, can you? [With sudden violence.] It serves ’em right, all that’s happened and going to happen. Kicks and smacks in the face if I even winked an eye—two years of it! And me shanghied when I was drunk—taken away from a good job and forced to cook the swill on a rotten whaler. Oh, I’ll pay him back for it! His damn ship is wrecked and lost to him—that’s the first of it. I’ll see him rot and die—and the three with him! But you and me’ll be saved! D’you know why I’ve let you go halves on this water, instead of hogging it all myself? It’s because you were the only one on board that didn’t treat me like a dog—and they kicked and beat you, too. We were in the same boat. And now we’ll get even! Them and their dirty box of junk! [He sinks back, exhausted by this outburst.]