'And how are you, my boy?' he said, coming over to him, and placing his hand on his knees with almost fatherly kindness. 'Do you think you can bear moving? I want to have you down in the cabin, where you will be more comfortable than in this house. You can lie on one of the transom lockers, where you will get plenty of air through the stern ports. The mate will be near you, and you and he will have to make a race to see who gets on his pins first.'
Tom smiled. 'Just as you please, sir; but I don't want to give too much trouble.'
Hayes nodded. 'That's all right. You're to be the leading invalid on board the Leonie, and all hands and the cook are to stand by and wait on you.' Stepping outside, he called out--
'Send a couple of hands here, Mr. Harvey, to carry Mr. Wallis below; and tell Charlie to come here.'
'Charlie' was the sailor with the injured arm, who, as soon as Tom was lifted out of his bunk, appeared with his arm in a sling, contentedly smoking a pipe.
'How are you, Charlie?' said Hayes.
'Right as rain, sir. I guess you've made a good job of it, sir,' indicating his arm. 'Hallo, young feller, how are you? Here, shake;' and he put out his left hand to Tom; 'my right arm is parcelled up like a half dollar roll of preserved Tahiti bananas. Young feller, I reckon thet you hev the makin's of a general in you. If it hadn't been for him, captain, I wouldn't be here now. He's grit to the backbone.'
Tom was lifted up carefully by two of the crew, and carried below to a comfortable, amply cushioned lounge on the transoms, where he was greeted by the sick mate, whose legs were so enormously swollen from the effects of fever and quinine that he was unable to stand. Otherwise he was perfectly sound, and in full possession of a truly remarkable fund of vituperative expressions, some of which, when he heard Tom let an expression of pain escape him, he hurled at the two men who brought him down. Neither of them, he asserted with many unnecessary oaths, had the strength to lift a sitting hen off her nest, nor the will to pull their mothers out of a fire; also that as soon as he 'got around' again he would haze their worthless lives out of their useless carcases for their clumsiness, and derive unalloyed pleasure from seeing them go over the side feet first with a round shot at their heels.
The men, both of whom were Chilenos, grinned and made no reply. They were used to him, for, ruffian and brute as he was to them occasionally, they yet had a liking for him, born out of their constant association with him in the face of danger and death. And Tom, though the man's language and merciless severity shocked and horrified him, later on learned to respect the many good traits in his character, chief of which were his unswerving devotion and loyalty to Hayes, his iron resolution and dauntless courage, and his restless, untiring energy and watchfulness in all that concerned his duty and care of the ship. Then, too, he had a sense of humour, grim enough, perhaps inborn, perhaps unconsciously acquired from Hayes, who, in his bursts of temper, would kick an offending seaman all round the deck, down the companion-way, and bawl out 'Arnica!' to the steward simultaneously.
Unable to sleep from the pain he suffered, Tom was rather glad than otherwise that the mate, from the same cause, was rather restless, and disposed to be very communicative. The night was brilliantly clear and bright from the light of myriad stars; and from the widely opened stern ports he and Tom, who were lying near each other, watched the bubble and boil of the phosphorescent water in the brig's wake as it went hissing astern. Mr. Kelly, in expectation of one of his frequent attacks of ague, was heavily wrapped up in blankets and rugs, so that only his face was visible.