The Ebb Tide
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Robert Louis Stevenson in collaboration with Lloyde Osbourne >> The Ebb Tide
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'Me mate? Why, I'm a landsman!' cried Herrick.
'Guess you've got to learn,' said the captain. 'You don't fancy
I'm going to skip and leave you rotting on the beach perhaps?
I'm not that sort, old man. And you're handy anyway; I've been
shipmates with worse.'
'God knows I can't refuse,' said Herrick. 'God knows I thank
you from my heart.'
'That's all right,' said the captain. 'But it ain't all.' He
turned aside to light a cigar.
'What else is there?' asked the other, with a pang of undefinable
alarm.
'I'm coming to that,' said Davis, and then paused a little. 'See
here,' he began, holding out his cigar between his finger and
thumb, 'suppose you figure up what this'll amount to. You don't
catch on? Well, we get two months' advance; we can't get away
from Papeete--our creditors wouldn't let us go--for less; it'll
take us along about two months to get to Sydney; and when we
get there, I just want to put it to you squarely: What the better
are we?'
'We're off the beach at least,' said Herrick.
'I guess there's a beach at Sydney,' returned the captain; 'and
I'll tell you one thing, Mr Herrick--I don't mean to try. No,
SIR! Sydney will never see me.'
'Speak out plain,' said Herrick.
'Plain Dutch,' replied the captain. 'I'm going to own that
schooner. It's nothing new; it's done every year in the Pacific.
Stephens stole a schooner the other day, didn't he? Hayes and
Pease stole vessels all the time. And it's the making of the
crowd of us. See here--you think of that cargo. Champagne! why,
it's like as if it was put up on purpose. In Peru we'll sell that
liquor off at the pier-head, and the schooner after it, if we can
find a fool to buy her; and then light out for the mines. If
you'll back me up, I stake my life I carry it through.'
'Captain,' said Herrick, with a quailing voice, 'don't do it!'
'I'm desperate,' returned Davis. 'I've got a chance; I may
never get another. Herrick, say the word; back me up; I think
we've starved together long enough for that.'
'I can't do it. I'm sorry. I can't do it. I've not fallen as low
as that,' said Herrick, deadly pale.
'What did you say this morning?' said Davis. 'That you
couldn't beg? It's the one thing or the other, my son.'
'Ah, but this is the jail!' cried Herrick. 'Don't tempt me. It's
the jail.'
'Did you hear what the skipper said on board that schooner?'
pursued the captain. 'Well, I tell you he talked straight. The
French have let us alone for a long time; It can't last longer;
they've got their eye on us; and as sure as you live, in three
weeks you'll be in jail whatever you do. I read it in the
consul's face.'
'You forget, captain,' said the young man. 'There is another
way. I can die; and to say truth, I think I should have died
three years ago.'
The captain folded his arms and looked the other in the face.
'Yes,' said he, 'yes, you can cut your throat; that's a frozen
fact; much good may it do you! And where do I come in?'
The light of a strange excitement came in Herrick's face. 'Both
of us,' said he, 'both of us together. It's not possible you can
enjoy this business. Come,' and he reached out a timid hand, 'a
few strokes in the lagoon--and rest!'
'I tell you, Herrick, I'm 'most tempted to answer you the way
the man does in the Bible, and say, "Get thee behind me,
Satan!"' said the captain. 'What! you think I would go drown
myself, and I got children starving? Enjoy it? No, by God, I do
not enjoy it! but it's the row I've got to hoe, and I'll hoe it
till I drop right here. I have three of them, you see, two boys
and the one girl, Adar. The trouble is that you are not a parent
yourself. I tell you, Herrick, I love you,' the man broke out; 'I
didn't take to you at first, you were so anglified and tony, but
I love you now; it's a man that loves you stands here and
wrestles with you. I can't go to sea with the bummer alone; it's
not possible. Go drown yourself, and there goes my last
chance--the last chance of a poor miserable beast, earning a
crust to feed his family. I can't do nothing but sail ships, and
I've no papers. And here I get a chance, and you go back on me!
Ah, you've no family, and that's where the trouble is!'
'I have indeed,' said Herrick.
'Yes, I know,' said the captain, 'you think so. But no man's
got a family till he's got children. It's only the kids count.
There's something about the little shavers ... I can't talk of
them. And if you thought a cent about this father that I hear
you talk of, or that sweetheart you were writing to this morning,
you would feel like me. You would say, What matters laws, and
God, and that? My folks are hard up, I belong to them, I'll get
them bread, or, by God! I'll get them wealth, if I have to burn
down London for it. That's what you would say. And I'll tell
you more: your heart is saying so this living minute. I can see
it in your face. You're thinking, Here's poor friendship for the
man I've starved along of, and as for the girl that I set up to
be in love with, here's a mighty limp kind of a love that won't
carry me as far as 'most any man would go for a demijohn of
whisky. There's not much ROmance to that love, anyway; it's not
the kind they carry on about in songbooks. But what's the good of
my carrying on talking, when it's all in your inside as plain as
print? I put the question to you once for all. Are you going to
desert me in my hour of need?--you know if I've deserted you--or
will you give me your hand, and try a fresh deal, and go home (as
like as not) a millionaire? Say no, and God pity me! Say yes, and
I'll make the little ones pray for you every night on
their bended knees. "God bless Mr Herrick!" that's what they'll
say, one after the other, the old girl sitting there holding
stakes at the foot of the bed, and the damned little innocents. .
. He broke off. 'I don't often rip out about the kids,' he said;
'but when I do, there's something fetches loose.'
'Captain,' said Herrick faintly, 'is there nothing else?'
'I'll prophesy if you like,' said the captain with renewed
vigour. 'Refuse this, because you think yourself too honest, and
before a month's out you'll be jailed for a sneak-thief. I give
you the word fair. I can see it, Herrick, if you can't; you're
breaking down. Don't think, if you refuse this chance, that
you'll go on doing the evangelical; you're about through with
your stock; and before you know where you are, you'll be right
out on the other side. No, it's either this for you; or else it's
Caledonia. I bet you never were there, and saw those white,
shaved men, in their dust clothes and straw hats, prowling around
in gangs in the lamplight at Noumea; they look like wolves, and
they look like preachers, and they look like the sick; Hulsh is a
daisy to the best of them. Well, there's your company. They're
waiting for you, Herrick, and you got to go; and that's a
prophecy.'
And as the man stood and shook through his great stature, he
seemed indeed like one in whom the spirit of divination worked
and might utter oracles. Herrick looked at him, and looked
away; It seemed not decent to spy upon such agitation; and the
young man's courage sank.
'You talk of going home,' he objected. 'We could never do
that.'
'WE could,' said the other. 'Captain Brown couldn't, nor Mr
Hay, that shipped mate with him couldn't. But what's that to do
with Captain Davis or Mr Herrick, you galoot?'
'But Hayes had these wild islands where he used to call,' came
the next fainter objection.
'We have the wild islands of Peru,' retorted Davis. 'They were
wild enough for Stephens, no longer agone than just last year. I
guess they'll be wild enough for us.'
'And the crew?'
'All Kanakas. Come, I see you're right, old man. I see you'll
stand by.' And the captain once more offered his hand.
'Have it your own way then,' said Herrick. 'I'll do it: a strange
thing for my father's son. But I'll do it. I'll stand by you,
man, for good or evil.'
'God bless you!' cried the captain, and stood silent. 'Herrick,'
he added with a smile, 'I believe I'd have died in my tracks, if
you'd said, No!'
And Herrick, looking at the man, half believed so also.
'And now we'll go break it to the bummer,' said Davis.
'I wonder how he'll take it,' said Herrick.
'Him? Jump at it!' was the reply.
Chapter 4. THE YELLOW FLAG
The schooner Farallone lay well out in the jaws of the pass,
where the terrified pilot had made haste to bring her to her
moorings and escape. Seen from the beach through the thin line
of shipping, two objects stood conspicuous to seaward: the little
isle, on the one hand, with its palms and the guns and batteries
raised forty years before in defence of Queen Pomare's capital;
the outcast Farallone, upon the other, banished to the threshold
of the port, rolling there to her scuppers, and flaunting the
plague-flag as she rolled. A few sea birds screamed and cried
about the ship; and within easy range, a man-of-war guard boat
hung off and on and glittered with the weapons of marines. The
exuberant daylight and the blinding heaven of the tropics picked
out and framed the pictures.
A neat boat, manned by natives in uniform, and steered by
the doctor of the port, put from shore towards three of- the
afternoon, and pulled smartly for the schooner. The fore-sheets
were heaped with sacks of flour, onions, and potatoes, perched
among which was Huish dressed as a foremast hand; a heap of
chests and cases impeded the action of the oarsmen; and in the
stern, by the left hand of the doctor, sat Herrick, dressed in a
fresh rig of slops, his brown beard trimmed to a point, a pile of
paper novels on his lap, and nursing the while between his feet
a chronometer, for which they had exchanged that of the
Farallone, long since run down and the rate lost.
They passed the guard boat, exchanging hails with the
boat-swain's mate in charge, and drew near at last to the
forbidden ship. Not a cat stirred, there was no speech of man;
and the sea being exceeding high outside, and the reef close to
where the schooner lay, the clamour of the surf hung round her
like the sound of battle.
'Ohe la goelette!' sang out the doctor, with his best voice.
Instantly, from the house where they had been stowing away
stores, first Davis, and then the ragamuffin, swarthy crew made
their appearance.
'Hullo, Hay, that you?' said the captain, leaning on the rail.
'Tell the old man to lay her alongside, as if she was eggs.
There's a hell of a run of sea here, and his boat's brittle.'
The movement of the schooner was at that time more than
usually violent. Now she heaved her side as high as a deep sea
steamer's, and showed the flashing of her copper; now she
swung swiftly toward the boat until her scuppers gurgled.
'I hope you have sea legs,' observed the doctor. 'You will
require them.'
Indeed, to board the Farallone, in that exposed position where
she lay, was an affair of some dexterity. The less precious goods
were hoisted roughly in; the chronometer, after repeated
failures, was passed gently and successfully from hand to hand;
and there remained only the more difficult business of embarking
Huish. Even that piece of dead weight (shipped A.B. at eighteen
dollars, and described by the captain to the consul as an
invaluable man) was at last hauled on board without mishap;
and the doctor, with civil salutations, took his leave.
The three co-adventurers looked at each other, and Davis
heaved a breath of relief.
'Now let's get this chronometer fixed,' said he, and led the
way into the house. It was a fairly spacious place; two
staterooms and a good-sized pantry opened from the main cabin;
the bulkheads were painted white, the floor laid with waxcloth.
No litter, no sign of life remained; for the effects of the dead
men had been disinfected and conveyed on shore. Only on the
table, in a saucer, some sulphur burned, and the fumes set them
coughing as they entered. The captain peered into the starboard
stateroom, where the bed-clothes still lay tumbled in the bunk,
the blanket flung back as they had flung it back from the
disfigured corpse before its burial.
'Now, I told these niggers to tumble that truck overboard,'
grumbled Davis. 'Guess they were afraid to lay hands on it. Well,
they've hosed the place out; that's as much as can be
expected, I suppose. Huish, lay on to these blankets.'
'See you blooming well far enough first,' said Huish, drawing
back.
'What's that?' snapped the captain. 'I'll tell you, my young
friend, I think you make a mistake. I'm captain here.'
'Fat lot I care,' returned the clerk.
'That so?' said Davis. 'Then you'll berth forward with the
niggers! Walk right out of this cabin.'
'Oh, I dessay!' said Huish. 'See any green in my eye? A lark's
a lark.'
'Well, now, I'll explain this business, and you'll see (once for
all) just precisely how much lark there is to it,' said Davis.
'I'm captain, and I'm going to be it. One thing of three. First,
you take my orders here as cabin steward, in which case you mess
with us. Or second, you refuse, and I pack you forward--and
you get as quick as the word's said. Or, third and last, I'll
signal that man-of-war and send you ashore under arrest for
mutiny.'
'And, of course, I wouldn't blow the gaff? O no!' replied the
jeering Huish.
'And who's to believe you, my son?' inquired the captain.
'No, sir! There ain't no lark about my captainising. Enough
said. Up with these blankets.'
Huish was no fool, he knew when he was beaten; and he was
no coward either, for he stepped to the bunk, took the infected
bed-clothes fairly in his arms, and carried them out of the house
without a check or tremor.
'I was waiting for the chance,' said Davis to Herrick. 'I
needn't do the same with you, because you understand it for
yourself.'
'Are you going to berth here?' asked Herrick, following the
captain into the stateroom, where he began to adjust the
chronometer in its place at the bed-head.
'Not much!' replied he. 'I guess I'll berth on deck. I don't
know as I'm afraid, but I've no immediate use for confluent
smallpox.'
'I don't know that I'm afraid either,' said Herrick. 'But the
thought of these two men sticks in my throat; that captain and
mate dying here, one opposite to the other. It's grim. I wonder
what they said last?'
'Wiseman and Wishart?' said the captain. 'Probably mighty
small potatoes. That's a thing a fellow figures out for himself
one way, and the real business goes quite another. Perhaps
Wiseman said, "Here old man, fetch up the gin, I'm feeling
powerful rocky." And perhaps Wishart said, "Oh, hell!"'
'Well, that's grim enough,' said Herrick.
'And so it is,' said Davis. 'There; there's that chronometer
fixed. And now it's about time to up anchor and clear out.'
He lit a cigar and stepped on deck.
'Here, you! What's YOUR name?' he cried to one of the hands,
a lean-flanked, clean-built fellow from some far western island,
and of a darkness almost approaching to the African.
'Sally Day,' replied the man.
'Devil it is,' said the captain. 'Didn't know we had ladies on
board. Well, Sally, oblige me by hauling down that rag there.
I'll do the same for you another time.' He watched the yellow
bunting as it was eased past the cross-trees and handed down
on deck. 'You'll float no more on this ship,' he observed.
'Muster the people aft, Mr Hay,' he added, speaking unnecessarily
loud, 'I've a word to say to them.'
It was with a singular sensation that Herrick prepared for the
first time to address a crew. He thanked his stars indeed, that
they were natives. But even natives, he reflected, might be
critics too quick for such a novice as himself; they might
perceive some lapse from that precise and cut-and-dry English
which prevails on board a ship; it was even possible they
understood no other; and he racked his brain, and overhauled his
reminiscences of sea romance for some appropriate words.
'Here, men! tumble aft!' he said. 'Lively now! All hands aft!'
They crowded in the alleyway like sheep.
'Here they are, sir,' said Herrick.
For some time the captain continued to face the stern; then
turned with ferocious suddenness on the crew, and seemed to
enjoy their shrinking.
'Now,' he said, twisting his cigar in his mouth and toying
with the spokes of the wheel, 'I'm Captain Brown. I command
this ship. This is Mr Hay, first officer. The other white man is
cabin steward, but he'll stand watch and do his trick. My orders
shall be obeyed smartly. You savvy, "smartly"? There shall be
no growling about the kaikai, which will be above allowance.
You'll put a handle to the mate's name, and tack on "sir" to
every order I give you. If you're smart and quick, I'll make this
ship comfortable for all hands.' He took the cigar out of his
mouth. 'If you're not,' he added, in a roaring voice, 'I'll make
it a floating hell. Now, Mr Hay, we'll pick watches, if you
please.'
'All right,' said Herrick.
'You will please use "sir" when you address me, Mr Hay,'
said the captain. 'I'll take the lady. Step to starboard, Sally.'
And then he whispered in Herrick's ear: 'take the old man.'
'I'll take you, there,' said Herrick.
'What's your name?' said the captain. 'What's that you say?
Oh, that's no English; I'll have none of your highway gibberish
on my ship. We'll call you old Uncle Ned, because you've got
no wool on the top of your head, just the place where the wool
ought to grow. Step to port, Uncle. Don't you hear Mr Hay has
picked you? Then I'll take the white man. White Man, step to
starboard. Now which of you two is the cook? You? Then Mr
Hay takes your friend in the blue dungaree. Step to port,
Dungaree. There, we know who we all are: Dungaree, Uncle
Ned, Sally Day, White Man, and Cook. All F.F.V.'s I guess. And
now, Mr Hay, we'll up anchor, if you please.'
'For Heaven's sake, tell me some of the words,' whispered
Herrick.
An hour later, the Farallone was under all plain sail, the
rudder hard a-port, and the cheerfully clanking windlass had
brought the anchor home.
'All clear, sir,' cried Herrick from the bow.
The captain met her with the wheel, as she bounded like a
stag from her repose, trembling and bending to the puffs. The
guard boat gave a parting hail, the wake whitened and ran out;
the Farallone was under weigh.
Her berth had been close to the pass. Even as she forged
ahead Davis slewed her for the channel between the pier ends of
the reef, the breakers sounding and whitening to either hand.
Straight through the narrow band of blue, she shot to seaward:
and the captain's heart exulted as he felt her tremble underfoot,
and (looking back over the taffrail) beheld the roofs of Papeete
changing position on the shore and the island mountains rearing
higher in the wake.
But they were not yet done with the shore and the horror of the
yellow flag. About midway of the pass, there was a cry and
a scurry, a man was seen to leap upon the rail, and, throwing
his arms over his head, to stoop and plunge into the sea.
'Steady as she goes,' fhe captain cried, relinquishing the wheel
to Huish.
The next moment he was forward in the midst of the Kanakas,
belaying pin in hand.
'Anybody else for shore?' he cried, and the savage trumpeting
of his voice, no less than the ready weapon in his hand, struck
fear in all. Stupidly they stared after their escaped companion,
whose black head was visible upon the water, steering for the
land. And the schooner meanwhile slipt like a racer through the
pass, and met the long sea of the open ocean with a souse of
spray.
'Fool that I was, not to have a pistol ready!' exclaimed Davis.
'Well, we go to sea short-handed, we can't help that. You have
a lame watch of it, Mr Hay.'
'I don't see how we are to get along,' said Herrick.
'Got to,' said the captain. 'No more Tahiti for me.'
Both turned instinctively and looked astern. The fair island
was unfolding mountain top on mountain top; Eimeo, on the
port board, lifted her splintered pinnacles; and still the
schooner raced to the open sea.
'Think!' cried the captain with a gesture, 'yesterday morning
I danced for my breakfast like a poodle dog.'
Chapter 5. THE CARGO OF CHAMPAGNE
The ship's head was laid to clear Eimeo to the north, and the
captain sat down in the cabin, with a chart, a ruler, and an
epitome.
'East a half no'the,' said he, raising his face from his labours.
'Mr Hay, you'll have to watch your dead reckoning; I want
every yard she makes on every hair's-breadth of a course. I'm
going to knock a hole right straight through the Paumotus, and
that's always a near touch. Now, if this South East Trade ever
blew out of the S.E., which it don't, we might hope to lie within
half a point of our course. Say we lie within a point of it.
That'll just about weather Fakarava. Yes, sir, that's what we've
got to do, if we tack for it. Brings us through this slush of
little islands in the cleanest place: see?' And he showed where
his ruler intersected the wide-lying labyrinth of the Dangerous
Archipelago. 'I wish it was night, and I could put her about
right now; we're losing time and easting. Well, we'll do our
best. And if we don't fetch Peru, we'll bring up to Ecuador. All
one, I guess. Depreciated dollars down, and no questions asked. A
remarkable fine institootion, the South American don.'
Tahiti was already some way astern, the Diadem rising from
among broken mountains--Eimeo was already close aboard,
and stood black and strange against the golden splendour of the
west--when the captain took his departure from the two
islands, and the patent log was set.
Some twenty minutes later, Sally Day, who was continually
leaving the wheel to peer in at the cabin clock, announced in a
shrill cry 'Fo'bell,' and the cook was to be seen carrying the
soup into the cabin.
'I guess I'll sit down and have a pick with you,' said Davis to
Herrick. 'By the time I've done, it'll be dark, and we'll clap
the hooker on the wind for South America.'
In the cabin at one corner of the table, immediately below the
lamp, and on the lee side of a bottle of champagne, sat Huish.
'What's this? Where did that come from?' asked the captain.
'It's fizz, and it came from the after-'old, if you want to
know,' said Huish, and drained his mug.
'This'll never do,' exclaimed Davis, the merchant seaman's
horror of breaking into cargo showing incongruously forth on
board that stolen ship. 'There was never any good came of
games like that.'
'You byby!' said Huish. 'A fellow would think (to 'ear him)
we were on the square! And look 'ere, you've put this job up
'ansomely for me, 'aven't you? I'm to go on deck and steer while
you two sit and guzzle, and I'm to go by nickname, and got to
call you "sir" and "mister." Well, you look here, my bloke: I'll
have fizz ad lib., or it won't wash. I tell you that. And you
know mighty well, you ain't got any man-of-war to signal now.'
Davis was staggered. 'I'd give fifty dollars this had never
happened,' he said weakly.
'Well, it 'as 'appened, you see,' returned Huish. 'Try some;
it's devilish good.'
The Rubicon was crossed without another struggle. The
captain filled a mug and drank.
'I wish it was beer,' he said with a sigh. 'But there's no
denying it's the genuine stuff and cheap at the money. Now,
Huish, you clear out and take your wheel.'
The little wretch had gained a point, and he was gay. 'Ay, ay,
sir,' said he, and left the others to their meal.
'Pea soup!' exclaimed the captain. 'Blamed if I thought I
should taste pea soup again!'
Herrick sat inert and silent. It was impossible after these
months of hopeless want to smell the rough, high-spiced sea
victuals without lust, and his mouth watered with desire of the
champagne. It was no less impossible to have assisted at the
scene between Huish and the captain, and not to perceive, with
sudden bluntness, the gulf where he had fallen. He was a thief
among thieves. He said it to himself. He could not touch the
soup. If he had moved at all, it must have been to leave the
table, throw himself overboard, and drown--an honest man.
'Here,' said the captain, 'you look sick, old man; have a drop
of this.'
The champagne creamed and bubbled in the mug; its bright
colour, its lively effervescence, seized his eye. 'It is too late
to hesitate,' he thought; his hand took the mug instinctively; he
drank, with unquenchable pleasure and desire of more; drained
the vessel dry, and set it down with sparkling eyes.
'There is something in life after all!' he cried. 'I had forgot
what it was like. Yes, even this is worth while. Wine, food, dry
clothes--why, they're worth dying, worth hanging, for! Captain,
tell me one thing: why aren't all the poor folk foot-pads?'
'Give it up,' said the captain.
'They must be damned good,' cried Herrick. 'There's something
here beyond me. Think of that calaboose! Suppose we
were sent suddenly back.' He shuddered as though stung by a
convulsion, and buried his face in his clutching hands.
'Here, what's wrong with you?' cried the captain. There was
no reply; only Herrick's shoulders heaved, so that the table was
shaken. 'Take some more of this. Here, drink this. I order you
to. Don't start crying when you're out of the wood.'
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