"It comes all along o' drinkin' rum, says I," went on the old sailor, continuing some tale he had been telling. "That, I claims, is the reason for many unfortunate doin's; and that is why all them men I was tellin' you about was eat by the cannibals."
"I don't see as it made any difference," broke in the boy, "except perhaps in the taste. If they were bent on going where they did, they'd have been eaten anyhow, wouldn't they?"
"As to that," returned the old sailor, "I contradict ye. Rum sometimes makes a fellow want to fight when it's a tarnel sight braver to run; that is, upon some occashuns."
"Some folks get so they can't even wiggle, let alone run," observed the boy. "I saw our bo'sun——"
"Don't speak uncharitable of your neighbors, son," observed the old man. "All I can say is that I don't take no stock in grog; thereby being' the peculiarest man in the service, I dessay. I've seen lessons, as I was tellin' ye. You see, all those friends of mine would been livin' to-day if they hadn't taken on cargoes of that thar African wine. Yes, they got to suppose that they could lick about twenty times their weight of black niggers, and so they started in, and never come back. But I, not drinkin' nothin', jes' kep' by the boat, an' when them savages come after me, I warn't there. Had a terrible time gettin' off to the ship all alone; but I done it, an' thar's the best temperance lecture I know of. I got a hull lot of texts out of the Good Book; but most people won't listen to 'em; leastways on board of this ship."
"I reckon you are the only man what don't take his grog here," said the boy.
"That I be," returned the old sailor, "and, by Sal, I'm proud of it! 'No, thankee, messmate,' says I when it comes around, 'I don't need that to keep my chronometer goin'.' Then they all laughs generally, and calls me a fresh-water moss-back. Some day 'an I'll git even with 'em."
Old Renwick, although somewhat of a butt of the crew, was respected nevertheless because of his being a good seaman, and because he also had made a record for himself in the old days during the war with France and the adventurous times with Preble in the Mediterranean. He was a great favorite with Captain Stewart, then the Commander of the old frigate, and by him he had been promoted to the position of quartermaster. He would never have succeeded in qualifying for the position of boatswain or for any higher grade than that which he now held, for the simple reason that the old fellow was too lenient in his discipline and too ready to condole with the faults of others except where rum was concerned.
It was Renwick's greatest delight to secure a solitary and attentive listener and spin a long yarn to him. He spoke without the usual profane punctuation,—the habit of most seamen,—and when off watch he read his Bible most assiduously. He had had many adventures in his forty-four years at sea, and his memory being a most retentive one, it required little excuse for him to start on a long mental peregrination through the laden fields of his memory.
Many were the occasions when the boy found time to become Renwick's solitary auditor. The lad was bright, and this was but his second voyage at sea. He was one of those children who, although born inland and away from the smell of the ocean, still must inherit from their ancestors the keen desire to seek adventures and see strange countries—he dreamed of ships and the deep. Once firmly rooted, this feeling never dies; despite hardships, wrecks, and disasters, the sailor returns to his calling.