Chapter 6

by Rudyard Kipling

　　The thing that struck him most was the exceedingly casual way inwhich some craft loafed about the broad Atlantic. Fishing-boats,as Dan said, were naturally dependent on the courtesy and wisdomof their neighbours; but one expected better things of steamers.That was after another interesting interview, when they had beenchased for three miles by a big lumbering old cattle-boat, allboarded over on the upper deck, that smelt like a thousand cattle-pens. A very excited officer yelled at them through a speaking-trumpet, and she lay and lollopped helplessly on the water whileDisko ran the "We're Here" under her lee and gave the skipper apiece of his mind. "Where might ye be - eh? Ye don't deserve to beanywheres. You barn-yard tramps go hoggin' the road on the highseas with no blame consideration fer your neighbours, an' youreyes in your coffee-cups instid o' in your silly heads."At this the skipper danced on the bridge and said something aboutDisko's own eyes. "We haven't had an observation for three days.D'you suppose we can run her blind?" he shouted."Wa-al, I can," Disko retorted. "What's come to your lead'? Etit'? Can't ye smell bottom, or are them cattle too rank?""What d'ye feed 'em?" said Uncle Salters with intense seriousness,for the smell of the pens woke all the farmer in him. "They saythey fall off dretful on a v'yage. Dunno as it's any o' mybusiness, but I've a kind o' notion that oil-cake broke small an'sprinkled -""Thunder!" said a cattle-man in a red jersey as he looked over theside. "What asylum did they let His Whiskers out of?""Young feller," Salters began, standing up in the fore-rigging,"let me tell yeou 'fore we go any further that I've -"The officer on the bridge took off his cap with immensepoliteness. "Excuse me," he said, "but I've asked for myreckoning. If the agricultural person with the hair will kindlyshut his head, the sea-green barnacle with the wall-eye mayperhaps condescend to enlighten us.""Naow you've made a show o' me, Salters," said Disko, angrily. Hecould not stand up to that particular sort of talk, and snappedout the latitude and longitude without more lectures."'Well, tbat's a boat-load of lunatics, sure," said the skipper,as he rang up the engine-room and tossed a bundle of newspapersinto the schooner."Of all the blamed fools, next to you, Salters, him an' his crowdare abaout the likeliest I've ever seen," said Disko as the "We'reHere" slid away. "I was jest givin' him my jedgment on lulisikin'round these waters like a lost child, an' you must cut in withyour fool farmin'. Can't ye never keep things sep'rate?"Harvey, Dan, and the others stood back, winking one to the otherand full of joy; but Disko and Salters wrangled seriously tillevening, Salters arguing that a cattle-boat was practically a barnon blue water, and Disko insisting that, even if this were thecase, decency and fisher-pride demanded that he should have kept"things sep'rate." Long Jack stood it in silence for a time, - anangry skipper makes an unhappy crew, - and then he spoke acrossthe table after supper:"Fwhat's the good o' bodderin' fwhat they'll say?" said he."They'll tell that tale ag'in' us fer years - that's all," saidDisko. "Oil-cake sprinkled!""With salt, o' course," said Salters, impenitent, reading thefarming reports from a week-old New York paper."It's plumb mortifyin' to all my feelin's," the skipper went on."Can't see ut that way," said Long Jack, the peacemaker. "Look athere, Disko! Is there another packet afloat this day in thisweather c'u'd ha' met a tramp an', over an' above givin' her herreckonin', - over an' above that, I say, - c'u'd ha' discoorsedwid her quite intelligent on the management av steers an' such atsea'? Forgit ut! Av coorse they will not. 'Twas the most compenjusconversation that iver accrued. Double game an' twice runnin' -all to us." Dan kicked Harvey under the table, and Harvey chokedin his cup."'Well," said Salters, who felt that his honour had been somewhatplastered, "I said I didn't know as 'twuz any business o' mine,'fore I spoke.""An' right there," said Tom Platt, experienced in discipline andetiquette -" right there, I take it, Disko, you should ha' askedhim to stop ef the conversation wuz likely, in your jedgment, tobe anyways - what it shouldn't.""Dunno but that's so," said Disko, who saw his way to anhonourable retreat from a fit of the dignities."'Why, o' course it was so," said Salters, "you bein' skipperhere; an' I'd cheerful hev stopped on a hint - not from anyleadin' or conviction, but fer the sake o' bearin' an example tothese two blame boys of aours.""Didn't I tell you, Harve, 'twould come araound to us 'fore we'ddone'? Always those blame boys. But I wouldn't have missed theshow fer a half-share in a halibutter," Dan whispered."Still, things should ha' been kep' sep'rate," said Disko, and thelight of new argument lit in Salters's eye as he crumbled cut pluginto his pipe."There's a power av vartue in keepin' things sep'rate," said LongJack, intent on stilling the storm. "That's fwhat Steyning ofSteyning and Hare's f'und when he sent Counahan fer skipper on theManila D. Kuhn, instid o' Cap. Newton that was took withinflam't'ry rheumatism an' couldn't go. Counahan the Navigator wecalled him.""Nick Counahan he never went aboard fer a night 'thout a pond o'rum somewheres in the manifest," said Tom Platt, playing up to thelead. "He used to bum araound the c'mission houses to Bostonlookin' fer the Lord to make him captain of a towboat on hismerits. Sam Coy, up to Atlantic Avenoo, give him his board freefer a year or more on account of his stories. Counahan theNavigator! Tck! Tck! Dead these fifteen year, ain't he?""Seventeen, I guess. He died the year the Caspar McVeagh wasbuilt; but he could niver keep things sep'rate. Steyning tuk himfer the reason the thief tuk the hot stove - bekaze there wasnothin' else that season. The men was all to the Banks, andCounahan he whacked up an iverlastin' hard crowd fer crew. Rum! Yec'u'd ha' floated the Manila, insurance and all, in fwhat theystowed aboard her. They lef' Boston Harbour for the great GrandBank wid a roarin' nor'wester behind 'em an' all hands full to thebung. An' the hivens looked after thim, for divil a watch did theyset, an' divil a rope did they lay hand to, till they'd seen thebottom av a fifteen-gallon cask o' bug-juice. That was about wanweek, so far as Counahan remembered. (If' I c'u'd only tell thetale as he told ut!) All that whoile the wind blew like ouldglory, an' the Manila - 'twas summer, and they'd give her aforetopmast - struck her gait and kept ut. Then Counahan tuk thehog-yoke an' thrembled over it for a whoile, an' made out, betwix'that an' the chart an' the singin' in his head, that they was tothe south'ard o' Sable Island, gettin' along glorious, butspeakin' nothin'. Then they broached another keg, an' quitspeculatin' about anythin' fer another spell. The Manila she laydown whin she dropped Boston Light, and she never lufted her lee-rail up to that time - hustlin' on one an' the same slant. Butthey saw no weed, nor gulls, nor schooners; an' prisintly theyobsarved they'd been out a matter o' fourteen days, and theymistrusted the Bank had suspinded payment. So they sounded, an'got sixty fathom. 'That's me,' sez Counahan. 'That's me iv'rytime! I've run her slat on the Bank fer you, an' when we getthirty fathom we'llturn in like little men. Counahan is the b'y,' sez he. 'Counahanthe Navigator!'"Nex' cast they got ninety. Sez Counahan: 'Either the lead-line'stuk too stretchin' or else the Bank's sunk.'"They hauled ut up, bein' just about in that state when ut seemedright an' reasonable, and sat down on the deck countin' the knots,an' gettin' her snarled up hijjus. The Manila she'd struck hergait, and she hild ut, an' prisintly along come a tramp, an'Counahan spoke her."'Hey ye seen any fishin'-boats now?' sez he, quite casual."'There's lashin's av them off the Irish coast,' sez the tramp."Aah! go shake yerself,' sez Counahan. 'Fwhat have I to do wid theIrish coast?'"'Then fwhat are ye doin' here?' sez the tramp."'Sufferin' Christianity!' sez Counahan (he always said that whinhis pumps sucked an' he was not feelin' good) - 'Sufferin'Christianity!' he sez, 'where am I at?'"'Thirty-five mile west-sou'west o' Cape Clear,' sez the tramp,'if that's any consolation to you.'"Counahan fetched wan jump, four feet sivin inches, measured bythe cook."'Consolation!' sez he, bould ez brass. 'D'ye take me fer adialect? Thirty-five mile from Cape Clear, an' fourteen days fromBoston Light. Sufferin' Christianity, 'tis a record, an' by thesame token I've a mother to Skibbereen!' Think av ut! The gall avum! But ye see he could niver keep things sep'rate."The crew was mostly Cork an' Kerry men, barrin' one Marylanderthat wanted to go back, but they called him a mutineer, an' theyran the ould Manila into Skibbereen, an' they had an illigant timevisitin' around with frinds on the ould sod fer a week. Thin theywint back, an' it cost 'em two an' thirty days to beat to theBanks again. 'Twas gettin' on towards fall, and grub was low, soCounahan ran her back to Boston, wid no more bones to ut.""And what did the firm say?" Harvey demanded."Fwhat could they'? The fish was on the Banks, an' Counahan was atT-wharf talkin' av his record trip east! They tuk theirsatisfaction out av that, an' ut all came av not keepin' the crewand the rum sep'rate in the first place; an' confusin' Skibbereenwid 'Queereau, in the second. Counahan the Navigator, rest hissowl! He was an imprompju citizen!"Once I was in the Lucy Holmes," said Manuel, in his gentle voice."They not want any of her feesh in Gloucester. Eh, wha-at? Give usno price. So we go across the water, and think to sell to someFayal man. Then it blow fresh, and we cannot see well. Eh, wha-at?Then it blow some more fresh, and we go down below and drive veryfast - no one know where. By-and-by we see a land, and it get somehot. Then come two, three nigger in a brick. Eh, wha-at? We askwhere we are, and they say - now, what you all think?""Grand Canary," said Disko, after a moment. Manuel shook his head,smiling."Blanco," said Tom Platt."No. Worse than that. We was below Bezagos, and the brick she wasfrom Liberia! So we sell our feesh there! Not bad, so? Eh, wha-at?""Can a schooner like this go right across to Africa?" said Harvey."Go araound the Horn ef there's anythin' worth goin' fer, and thegrub holds aout," said Disko. "My father he run his packet, an'she was a kind o' pinkey, abaout fifty ton, I guess, - the Rupert,- he run her over to Greenland's icy mountains the year ha'af ourfleet was tryin' after cod there. An' what's more, he took mymother along with him, - to show her haow the money was earned, Ipresoom, - an' they was all iced up, an' I was born at Disko.Don't remember nothin' abaout it, o' course. We come back when theice eased in the spring, but they named me fer the place. Kindermean trick to put up on a baby, but we're all baound to makemistakes in aour lives.""Sure! Sure!" said Salters, wagging his head. "All baound to makemistakes, an' I tell you two boys here thet after you've made amistake - ye don't make fewer'n a hundred a day - the next bestthing's to own up to it like men."Long Jack winked one tremendous wink that embraced all handsexcept Disko and Salters, and the incident was closed.Then they made berth after berth to the northward, the dories outalmost every day, running along the east edge of the Grand Bank inthirty-to forty-fathom water, and fishing steadily.It was here Harvey first met the squid, who is one of the bestcod-baits, but uncertain in his moods. They were waked out oftheir bunks one black night by yells of "Squid O!" from Salters,and for an hour and a half every soul aboard hung over his squid-jig - a piece of lead painted red and armed at the lower end witha circle of pins bent backward like half-opened umbrella ribs. Thesquid -for some unknown reason - likes, and wraps himself round,this thing, and is hauled up ere he can escape from the pins. Butas he leaves his home he squirts first water and next ink into hiscaptor's face; and it was curious to see the men weaving theirheads from side to side to dodge the shot. They were as black assweeps when the flurry ended; but a pile of fresh squid lay on thedeck, and the large cod thinks very well of a little shiny pieceof squid-tentacle at the tip of a clam-baited hook. Next day theycaught many fish, and met the Carrie Pitman, to whom they shoutedtheir luck, and she wanted to trade - seven cod for one fair-sizedsquid; but Disko would not agree at the price, and the Carriedropped sullenly to leeward and anchored half a mile away, in thehope of striking on to some for herself.Disko said nothing till after supper, when he sent Dan and Manuelout to buoy the "We're Here's" cable and announced his intentionof turning in with the broad-axe. Dan naturally repeated theseremarks to a dory from the Carrie, who wanted to know why theywere buoying their cable, since they were not on rocky bottom."Dad sez he wouldn't trust a ferryboat within five mile o' you,"Dan howled cheerfully."Why don't he git out, then'? Who's hinderin'?" said the other."Cause you've jest the same ez lee-bowed him, an' he don't takethat from any boat, not to speak o' sech a driftin' gurry-butt asyou be.""She ain't driftin' any this trip," said the man, angrily, for theCarrie Pitman had an unsavoury reputation for breaking her ground-tackle."Then haow d'you make berths?" said Dan. "It's her best p'int o'sailin'. An' ef she's quit driftin', what in thunder are you doin'with a new jib-boom?" That shot went home."Hey, you Portugoosy organ-grinder, take your monkey back toGloucester. Go back to school, Dan Troop," was the answer."O-ver-alls! O-ver-alls!" yelled Dan, who knew that one of theCarrie's crew had worked in an overall factory the winter before."Shrimp! Gloucester shrimp! Git aout, you Novy!"To call a Gloucester man a Nova Scotian is not well received. Dananswered in kind."Novy yourself, ye Scrabble-towners! ye Chatham wreckers' Git aoutwith your brick in your stock in'!" And the forces separated, butChatham had the worst of it."I knew haow 'twould be," said Disko. "She's drawed the windraound already. Some one oughter put a deesist on thet packet.She'll snore till midnight, an' jest when we're gittin' our sleepshe'll strike adrift. Good job we ain't crowded with crafthereaways. But I ain't goin' to up anchor fer Chatham. She mayhold."The wind, which had hauled round, rose at sundown and blewsteadily. There was not enough sea, though, to disturb even adory's tackle, but the Carrie Pitman was a law unto herself. Atthe end of the boys' watch they heard the crack-crack-crack of ahuge muzzle-loading revolver aboard her."Glory, glory, hallelujah!" sung Dan. "Here she comes, dad; butt-end first, walkin' in her sleep same's she done on 'Queereau."Had she been any other boat Disko would have taken his chances,but now he cut the cable as the Carrie Pitman, with all the NorthAtlantic to play in, lurched down directly upon them. The "We'reHere", under jib and riding-sail, gave her no more room than wasabsolutely necessary, - Disko did not wish to spend a week huntingfor his cable, - but scuttled up into the wind as the Carriepassed within easy hail, a silent and angry boat, at the mercy ofa raking broadside of Bank chaff."Good evenin'," said Disko, raising his headgear, "an' haow doesyour garden grow?""Go to Ohio an' hire a mule," said Uncle Salters. "We don't wantno farmers here.""Will I lend you my dory-anchor?" cried Long Jack."Unship your rudder an' stick it in the mud," said Tom Platt."Say!" Dan's voice rose shrill and high, as he stood on the wheel-box. "Sa-ay! Is there a strike in the o-ver-all factory; or hevthey hired girls, ye Shackamaxons?""Veer out the tiller-lines," cried Harvey, "and nail 'em to thebottom." That was a salt-flavoured jest he had been put up to byTom Platt. Manuel leaned over the stern and yelled; "Johnna Morganplay the organ! Ahaaaa!" He flourished his broad thumb with agesture of unspeakable contempt and derision, while little Penncovered himself with glory by piping up: "Gee a little! Hssh! Comehere. Haw!"They rode on their chain for the rest of the night, a short,snappy, uneasy motion, as Harvey found, and wasted half theforenoon recovering the cable. But the boys agreed the trouble wascheap at the price of triumph and glory, and they thought withgrief over all the beautiful things that they might have said tothe discomfited Carrie.