The mariner had saved a compass, and as Gamoot stood over it, Jack placed his finger on the “points,” and named them over. But instead of giving their names as they are known to nautical sailors, he applied an oath to each of them; and he varied the oaths, so that by the time the compass was boxed, he had uttered a lot of profanity that would make an Arkansas stage-driver break his heart for joy.
Gamoot was a good scholar, and learned his lesson well. He used to repeat it to visitors, and was as proud of it as a poodle dog is of the ribbons in his ears. He always gave great delight to the strangers, especially if they happened to be chaplains of whale-ships, or missionaries on the hunt for converts. To enter his house, take an oil punch and an appetizing candle, and hear his melodious voice box the compass in the way he had been taught, was a delight that few persons ever enjoyed.
TRAGIC FATE OF GAMOOT.
But one day, when the bark Susan Maria touched near Gamoot’s mansion for salt, water, and provisions, the hospitable gentleman went to the beach to welcome the crew, and look out for a chance to steal something. By accident he picked up an oar, and was walking off with it, for fear it might be lost. One of the sailors addressed Gamoot in language much like boxing the compass, and the innocent aboriginal supposed the briny navigator was repeating his lesson. The first mate, who had charge of the boat, repeated the address, and added something which implied that the dog-star presided at the birth of Gamoot. This phrase was also familiar to the native, and he paid no attention to it.
The mate then proceeded to give Gamoot a gentle hint, which he did by throwing a harpoon through him. The point of the instrument entered between the brown-skinned gentleman’s shoulders, and came out in front of his heart, after dividing that organ into unequal parts. The boat-steerer then gave an additional hint by throwing a bomb-lance, which exploded in Gamoot’s head, and interfered seriously with future repetitions of his lesson in navigation.
Gamoot subsequently died of his injuries. His romantic career has passed into poesy, and the story of his house, his punches, his candles, his linguistic researches, and his unfortunate harpooning is sung wherever he was known.