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What is a Christian? Is he one who professes the Faith? I have my doubts. The Holy Inquisition professed belief, and generously burned the bodies of the orthodox in order to save their souls.
Perhaps He accepts as Christian all who do the will of His Father by loving God and their neighbors. I dare hold that these are the Christians whom Christ believes in. Throughout a varied and misguided life I have found the sort of Christians who love God and their neighbors, both in the cities and the countryside; but they seemed most numerous in the fighting forces at war, the fishing vessels, the deep-sea shipping, the cow camps, the remote gold fields, and the forlorn outposts of trappers, rangers, scouts, explorers, pioneers. Such Christians did not always clean their teeth, or wash behind their ears, their conversation would have shocked their mothers and all angels; but then one doubts if the fisherman of Galilee had any table manners, and if Peter, James, and John called on a modern bishop, they would certainly be sent to the back door.
Is this too long a sermon? Skip, then!
Nowhere are men so jammed as in a deep-sea forecastle, or piled on top of one another for so long a time, so plagued by rats, bugs, damp, cold, and gloom, with such a suffering from lack of sleep, fresh water, decent food, pure air, and privacy. And nowhere do men learn a more whole-hearted charity towards others, and liberality, such a complete unselfishness, so grand a Christianity of mind. In foul weather everybody saves a shipmate's life, say, once a day, and nobody expects a word of thanks.
The fellow who does not matter one way or the other is called Hi! The chap who provides any sport, puts up a good fight, or makes friends worth having generally earns a nickname and as a rule will answer to it, cheerily or with his fists, according to his nature. Murderer Bill, as his shipmates called young Fright, took his nickname without resentment. So one may address the most frightful insults to a dog in such a tone of voice that he wags his tail delighted.
If anybody wanted to have trouble, Murderer Bill made haste to provide. He fought several battles, and had a reputation for pugnacity. Yet to anybody who treated him half decently he proved a loyal friend in thought, word, and deed, the least selfish man on board, recklessly generous. No doubt was ever thrown upon his courage, he had a natural bent for seamanship, and fully held his ground as able seaman. In the larboard watch his special chum, towards the end, was Silas, Auld Jock his instructor, and the rest were friends. There was no man on board more generally liked.
And when the Beaver came safe inside the breakers on the Columbia bar, the captain had Murderer Bill haled down from aloft by the bos'n, clapped in irons, and once again consigned to the 'tween-decks as a prisoner. The ship's company as a whole determined to get even with the captain.
Thus Rain's prayer to the Sun came to be answered. The mate lent a flint which fitted the lock of Silas's gun. A bullet mold was found in the bos'n's locker and plenty of lead in the ballast for a supply of bullets. When the ship's magazine was opened for the salute to Fort Vancouver, a bag of powder strayed. The Iroquois made the belt and pouches, Auld Jock gave a hunting knife, somebody stole a lens from the captain's telescope to serve as a burning glass for making fire. The Yorkshireman gave a wallet with flint, steel, and tinder. There was a purse filled by subscription. It was certain that, when Murderer Bill escaped to the woods, he would not go empty handed, but doubtful rather whether he might need a wagon to carry his equipment.
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