All through the night, goaded on by the rasping voice of the skipper, who, perched aloft upon the after platform, suffered terribly from his inability to make himself felt as well as heard, the weary men toiled on. And to such good purpose that when the pageant of morning blazed forth upon the welcoming sky they had actually consummated the cutting-in, and were all ready for the trying-out. The skipper having hobbled below, Mr. Court proceeded to set blubber watches of six hours each, but also gave word to go easy, for he knew, judging by his own feelings, how spent all hands were, and he would not be so foolish as to lay them up. The relieved ones had just cast themselves down as they were and passed into the depths of utterly exhausted nature’s refreshment when, as Mr. Court was diving below to his well-earned rest, the skipper reappeared shouting, ‘Lay aft here, yew lazy hogs, ’n’ rig a stage over the stern. I want ter git a jury rudder rigged.’ Returning to the deck, Mr. Court said gravely, ‘Captain, that kind o’ thing wunt work no more. Yew’ve gut t’ be reasonable. I wunt let ye play the fool with men’s lives any more, and ef yew’re goin’t’ shoot, shoot quick, ’r ye’ll be too late.’ And Captain Da Silva saw, to his intense amazement, a revolver-barrel gleaming in the fingers of the officer whom in his blind passion and prejudice he had abused as a coward.
His sufferings were terrible to witness. His keen intelligence showed him clearly that at present, at any rate, the mate had the key of the situation, and that again he must stoop to dissimulation where he had been used to enforce his will with the utmost disregard of what anyone thought or felt. At last, when the first few agonising spasms had passed, he mastered himself by a supreme effort and said huskily, ‘All right, Mr. Court. It’s yewr call. It’ll be mine some day. Meanwhile we’ll keep eour trouble indoors.’
Raising his voice a little for the benefit of the few haggard-looking, anxious men who were clustered about the mainmast awaiting the word to come aft and recommence work, he said, ‘Oh, all right, Mr. Court; I guess we’ll leave it a bit. Don’ look ’s if we sh’d hev enny change in th’ weather fur a while, anyhow. We’ll git on with th’ tryin’-out, ’n’ leave th’ repairs until she’s cleaned erp agen. Thet’ll do th’ watch below,’ he snarled in conclusion. And the worn-out men shuffled away.
Without another word Mr. Court descended to his bunk, not, to be sure, without many misgivings as to whether, in the absence of any defence to his sleeping-place, any door to bar, he should, in the quaint sailor phrase, ‘wake up and find himself dead.’ But he reasoned, and correctly, that under present conditions the skipper would hardly proceed to open murder, for open it must be since four men would be in full view of the crime if it were done while he slept. And with a final, ‘Well, I kain’t he’p it, anyhaow; mout so well die this way ’s any other, fur all I k’n see,’ the mate turned in, put his loaded revolver under his pillow, and in two minutes was fast asleep.
The Captain, in spite of his weakened body, of his still aching limbs, paced the narrow limits of the cabin like a caged leopard, his mind seething with deadly thoughts about the mate and, in a lesser degree, all the members of his crew. For this was the first voyage of his career as captain that any of his ship’s company had been able to oppose his will successfully. Also it was the first voyage of his life that he had suffered so much in his own body, and he was gravely in doubt as to what the change meant. He was inclined to lay all his disasters at the door of his wife; but of her he was now quite afraid, and, moreover, satisfied that if he were not very careful in his treatment of her worse misfortunes would befall him. These thoughts worried him so much that he had recourse to the bottle, the great store of fiery liquor he had brought on board at Brava having been only slightly encroached upon. And after a few glasses and a couple of cigars he was reassured as to his own importance and power, feeling, indeed, that his recent fears were quite unwarranted. And yet he could not help casting a curiously furtive glance at the pale, mask-like face of his wife.
The next day, his physical improvement having been well maintained, he took full charge at eight bells in the morning, and all hands fell obediently into line at his word. Work on the blubber proceeded apace, but there was a much more important duty to perform, and that was the rigging of a contrivance by means of which the ship might be steered. Here Captain Da Silva shone as a perfect seaman. He ordered a spar about the size of a medium scaffold-pole to be made into a huge oar, the blade being formed of stout planks bolted together athwart, and the interstices on each side of the spar filled with old chain for weight to keep the machine down. A solid crutch, lined with leather and well greased, was fixed on the taffrail for the upper part of the spar to work in, with plenty of play allowed, but strong lashings to prevent its jumping out of its bed. Also a severe holdfast was made just above the blade of the ‘oar,’ into which a stout tackle was hooked on either side; the upper blocks of these tackles were led to outriggers over each quarter, and the falls passed into the barrel of the steering wheel. And—of course recognising that a vast amount of uninteresting but essential detail has been left out—that is how Captain Da Silva rigged his jury-rudder. It was so successful, too, that three days afterwards he navigated his ship into the difficult harbour of Port Lloyd with it, none of the captains of whaling ships anchored there noticing any difference, except that there were one or two remarks about the Grampus’s wild steering and a little wonder as to what she was towing astern.
Before going into the harbour Captain Da Silva called all hands aft and made them a speech. He said: ‘Men we’re a-goin’ in here fur repairs, wood, an’ water. Any of ye ’at wants t’ run away ’ud better make erp yewr mines before yew go fur the wust floggin’ y’ ever had w’en yew’re brought back. ’N’ yew will be, fur I’m goin’ t’ offer one hundred dollars reward fur any deserter brought back to the ship dead er alive. ’N’ thar’s lots er folks here as’d kill a man fur one dollar, let alone a hundred. No gammin’ allowed. This ship’s ben runnin’ slack. I’m goin’t’ tighten things up a bit. Naow git.’ And as all hands slunk away the skipper cast a triumphant glance at the officers as who should say, ‘What are you going to do now?’ There was no answering look. Who could reply to a challenge like that without putting himself irrevocably in the wrong?
Now it would be useless to recapitulate the proceedings at Port Lloyd, so tame and commonplace were they. The men were kept at work not merely from daylight till dark, but before daylight till after dark, doing all the thousand-and-one things needed when a whaleship comes into harbour after a long cruise. No boats other than her own were allowed near the ship, so the men got no fresh fruit, while no fresh beef or vegetables were sent on board by the skipper, so that all the fresh food obtained by the hungry men was fish, which, fortunately for them, bit at night and were caught in fairly large numbers. The skipper went ashore but very little; when he did, he now took Priscilla with him, closely muffled up so that no one should see her but himself. He saw none of his fellow-skippers, and cared nothing that he was the talk of the harbour. At the end of four days he ordered the windlass to be manned, and took the Grampus out to sea again, no man but himself knowing whither he was bound.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE LOSS OF THE GRAMPUS