This seemed to placate him a little, and, handing me a piece of bulbous root to chew, the Kantoon continued:
“I knew this morning that something had happened to Fidette. She was in a condition of hysteria during most of the night. In her sleep she laughed and cried. I did not know what to make of it. I doubt if the cabin boy would have told me of your conduct had he not feared his little mistress was growing dangerously ill. So far as I know, it is the first time she has ever been in love. Possibly I am mistaken; for what does an old fool father know? She is evidently smitten with you. That is natural; you are not such a very bad-looking fellow, and you must possess talent and ability to have risen, at your age, to the command of so fine a vessel as the Caribas. As she grows older Fidette is certain to become more beautiful. Such was the case with my poor wife. She was the prettiest woman that ever lived.”
The Kantoon then told the story of Fidette’s mother in a far less intelligible way than the young girl had done, and described the critical moment in his life, when he had demanded her as his choice of the prize goods in the ship George Cornwall, with becoming modesty. Many another man would have enlarged upon this incident, and made himself the hero of it. The Kantoon did nothing of the kind. This impressed me in his favor. Beginning with their life aboard the Happy Shark, the Kantoon said:
“As you may imagine, I was immensely proud of my pretty wife. She was by all odds the handsomest woman in the entire Seaweed Sea. She was the latest acquisition, also, from the outside world. She brought us history up to date! She never tired of telling us about a great war, extending over four years, that you had had in the United States; and, as I belong to a warlike people, every detail interested me. The episodes of that great conflict have become as household words among this ship’s company. Down in the fo’castle only this morning, I heard the boatswain describing the charge at Gettysburg of that brave young Southerner, Pickett. Of course, the naval battles interested us most, and from the lips of my dear companion we heard details of sea fights that caused our blood to thrill.
“About two years after our marriage Fidette was born. She was a bright child from her earliest youth. The Chief Kantoon, at that time a very aged and distinguished man, stood for her when she was christened by the Priest of the Sacred Fire, and many presents, some of real utility, were showered upon her. The education of this child became the sole object of my wife’s life. She taught her with infinite pains the quaint French she spoke herself, and read to her out of some of the few books I afterward succeeded in obtaining from the library of the George Cornwall. For my part, I cannot read any language. As a boy, I spent my days and nights at sea, and never had an opportunity to acquire even the most rudimentary education.
“When the stock of clothing that my wife had brought from the ship was exhausted, she it was who designed the pretty costumes, similar to that worn by Fidette. It is peculiarly Sargasson. Nothing like it is to be found anywhere else in the world.
“Fidette assimilated, naturally, with her surroundings. She is very expert with the canoe paddle, and can climb the ratlines of a ship with the facility of a tiger cat. Were it not for her fear of sharks, which I encourage, I believe she would spend most of her time in the water. What makes her all the more precious to me is the fact that her poor mother is dead. She contracted a fever and died six months ago.”
Moist as was the garb in which the Kantoon was arrayed—for he had just climbed out his cask of water to visit me—I beheld tears well up in his eyes in a way that showed he tenderly cherished the memory of his beautiful Creole wife. I have ever since thought that reawakened affection for the dead made easier my way to his heart.
This brave Kantoon, who had faced death and the treacherous enmity of all his associates for a pretty face, was completely under the domination of Fidette. She was the real commander of the Happy Shark; but she was full of tact, and avoided asserting the power she unquestionably possessed. Although the father scowled at me many times during this interview, and others immediately succeeding it, his feelings soon softened to such a degree that I was no longer imprisoned, and was consulted regarding the weather prospects and other matters of dull routine about the ship.
Up to this time I have said almost nothing about our own community aboard the Happy Shark. My excuse for this is the number of incidents that have succeeded each other during my first few days on board the queer old craft. Indeed, it was not until I had received the “freedom of the ship” that I was able to truly describe the social organization. Including the Kantoon, his daughter, and its chief executive officers (who regulated hours of sleep among the members of the various watches, by day and night), there were eighty-five people aboard the Happy Shark. Their duties may be chiefly described as follows: