After partaking of a dinner that had been prepared for the crew of the barge on the main deck, its commander walked rapidly to the side of the ship, where was the ladder leading down to his boat. Without any formal farewell, he and his sturdy fellows resumed their places in the great canoe, and in a few minutes they were far out in the Grand Canal, bound homeward on their long journey, ending with their voyage across the tideless lake.
I then took formal possession of the ship.
I was surprised how few changes had been made in my cabin since that eventful morning when I had been induced to leave my ship and crew. In the centre of the deck, just below the cabin door, was a large blood stain, that marked the place of some brave fellow’s death on the memorable night of the capture of the Caribas. Sturdy efforts had been made to efface this spot, but they had been unsuccessful. I found all my toilet articles just as I had left them; my brushes, combs and razors, and even a small bottle of brandy that had rested over my shaving stand, were undisturbed.
I have already spoken of the strict integrity and truthfulness of the Sargassons. Pilfering they held to be a crime so contemptible that only the basest savages indulged in it. Lying and stealing they classified together. Murder was not appalling to them, but during my stay in Sargasso I never knew or heard of a single case of treacherous assassination. Nobody was ever stabbed in the back or pushed into a shark’s tank unexpectedly.
Fidette soon made herself very comfortable in the little cabin that adjoined mine, and showed signs of being reconciled to her separation from the Happy Shark.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE DANGER OF AN IDEA.
I had not been in command of the Caribas more than a month before I discovered that Donna Elenora, the wife of the Kantoon of the near-by ship Cormorant, and Fidette had their heads together and were engaged in the promulgation of a great social reform. They were also in communication with other ships in our immediate neighborhood.
They had undertaken the laudable task of “ameliorating the condition of woman”—among the Sargassons.
I was prepared to admit that the status of woman among the Sargassons was not what it ought to be. She had considerable liberty, although she was not pampered with Parisian dresses and hats. She had no really laborious duties to perform, and, had she been inclined, might have devoted considerable time to the development of her mind and the beautifying of her person. I never had observed that she took advantage of her opportunities. Instead, therefore, of frowning upon the movement, I determined to encourage it by every means in my power.