Such swaggerers may be met with in all parts of the world; but nowhere in such numbers, as in California—which for a country so thinly peopled, appears to be more than ordinarily afflicted with the propensity for “bullyism.” At least, it was so, at the period of which I am writing.
At that time, a man, who was known to have killed three or four of his fellow-creatures, was looked upon with admiration by many, with fear by as many more, and with abhorrence by a very few indeed.
Quarrels in California, three times out of every four, terminated fatally for one or other of the combatants; and the survivor of several such sanguinary affairs was certain to obtain among his fellows a reputation of some kind—whether of good or evil—and for this, unhappily, the majority of mankind are but too eager to strive.
Where society exists in a state of half civilisation—such as was that of California fifteen years ago—it is not so strange that many should be met, who prefer having the reputation of a bully to having no reputation at all.
It was the unfortunate fate of my old comrade, to encounter one of these contemptible creatures—who combine the bully with the coward—in the person of Red Ned.
Stormy, after giving up the calling of the chase, had found himself once more afloat, and in search of some business that would be more suited to his tastes and abilities. While beating about, as already stated, he had once more given way to his unfortunate propensity for strong drink; and had got intoxicated both in his mind and his limbs.
While in this state, he had involved himself in a coffee-house quarrel with the man above mentioned; and who, no doubt, well understood the helpless condition of his adversary: for it was Red Ned himself who provoked the quarrel.
When unmolested by others, I never knew a man of a more harmless, inoffensive disposition than was the old sailor.
Even when under the influence of liquor, he never, to my knowledge, commenced a dispute; but when in that state, he was inclined to “teach manners” to any one who might interfere with him.
Red Ned had met Stormy in one of the gambling taverns, where the latter was carrying on his carouse; and perceiving that the old sailor was helplessly intoxicated, and moreover, that he was only a sailor—whom he could affront, without offending any of the company present—his bullying propensity would not permit him to let pass such a fine opportunity of gaining the distinction he coveted.