Wolves of the Sea - Randall Parrish
"Stay here, all four of you," I commanded sharply. "This job is well
done. Now let me see about the others."
Watkins needed no help; he had his party rounded up, and in complete
control, the fellows begging for mercy, as they crouched before the
cutlasses of their assailants. To my orders they were driven into the
cook's galley and a guard stationed at the door. Then I turned to the
more serious work confronting me in the forecastle. What lay before me
in facing the members of the starboard watch it was impossible to
conceive, but they had to be sorted out, and it was my task. We must
have men enough to sail the bark, and if I was to command them, I must
first of all prove my courage and enforce authority. The whole success
of our effort depended on this.
"What's going on below?" I asked.
"Cursin' mostly," answered Carter, peering down through a slight
uptilting of the scuttle. "They don't just know what's happening yet,
but the big nigger seems ter be raisin' hell. Carlson is a holdin' him
back with his cutlass."
"Open up and let me down."
I fell, rather than clambered along the rungs of the ladder, coming to
my feet on deck in the midst of a group of angry men, who had Carlson
pinned against the bulkhead. The light was so poor I could scarcely
see their faces; a babel of voices greeted me, and more than one hand
gripped me fiercely as the excited owner yelped a demand to know what
in hell we were up to. I roughly cleared a space, aided by Carlson's
cutlass, and fronted them defiantly. Towering above them all, his
black apelike face, distorted with rage, I distinguished the giant
Cochose, his immense hands grasping a wooden bar ripped from a bunk.
Plainly enough he was the leader, the one man whose ascendency I must
crush, and I meant to do it, then and there. This was no job I could
turn over to others; if I was to rule, this black brute must be
conquered at the very start, conquered by my own hands, and in the
presence of his mates. Here, in this black forecastle, we must fight
it out, breast to breast, as savagely as beasts of the jungle, to the
bitter end. I made the resolve, with teeth clenched, and every muscle
throbbing with eagerness.
"Stand back there lads," I said sternly, my eyes searching their
faces, and with pistol poised threateningly. "Give us room. I'll
explain all that has happened presently, but first I am going to lick
that black brute within an inch of his life. Step out of there,
Cochose."
He came grinning widely, balancing the heavy club in his hands.
"You mean me, sah? You all think yer kin lick me?"
"Yes, I think so; I'll try it anyway. Here Carlson, take this pistol
and sheath knife. If anyone interferes shoot him. All I ask is fair
play. Drop that club, Cochose, and throw away your knife. You and I
will fight this out with bare hands."
His dull brain worked slowly, and he stared at me, his eyes ugly, his
grin becoming savage with a display of teeth. His silence and lack of
response, awoke a growl from the impatient circle of men behind. One
fellow kicked the club out of his hand contemptuously, and another
plucked the knife from his belt.
"You big skulker," the latter said, with an oath of derision, "go on,
and fight! What in hell are you afraid of?"
"What for Ah fight this white man? Ah don't even know who he is."
"Then I'll tell you. Estada is dead; Manuel is a prisoner. I'm in
command of this bark, and I am going to give you a lesson for the
benefit of the crew. You are a big, boasting cur! I heard what you
said when I came down, and now I'll make you prove it. You other
fellows stand back--I'll make this beast fight."
I took two steps forward, my advance so swift and unexpected, the big
negro had not even time in which to throw up an arm in defense. With
open hand I struck him squarely across the face, an insulting,
stinging blow.
CHAPTER XXI
IN FULL POSSESSION
A roar of delight mingled with the negro's snarl of rage at this
action. For an instant the fellow appeared too completely surprised
for movement, although an angry oath burst from his lips, and the grin
of derision faded from his face. I knew sailors, and felt that these
men would not differ greatly from the occupants of other forecastles
on the seven seas. They would welcome a fight like this and their
immediate sympathy would be with me for starting it. More than that,
this black bully, ruling over them by brute force, could be no
favorite. They might fear him, but with that fear would be mingled
hate, and a delight in his downfall.
The respite was short, yet in that instant, although I cannot recall
removing watchful eyes from the negro's face, I received an impression
of my surroundings never to be erased from memory. The grim picture
arises before me now, distinct in every detail, the gloomy interior,
the deck, foul, littered with sea boots, and discarded clothing, and
the great beams overhead blackened by smoke. The rays of the swinging
slush lantern barely illuminated the central space, the rows of bunks
beyond remaining mere shadows, yet this dim, yellowish light, fell
full upon the excited, half circle of men who were roaring about the
negro, and had already pressed him forward until he stood confronting
me, his grin of derision changed into a scowl of hate. They were a
rough, wild lot, bearded and uncombed, ranging in color from the
intense black of Central Africa to the blond of Scandinavia, half
naked some, their voices mingling in a dozen tongues, their eyes
gleaming with savagery. They impressed me as animals of the jungle,
thirsting for blood, and I knew the man who came victorious from this
struggle would be their leader. The thought stiffened my muscles, and
strengthened my determination to win.
I know not whether Cochose lunged forward of his own volition, or was
pressed on from behind, yet suddenly he was within reach of me, and
the battle was on. It was short and fierce, his object evidently being
to crush me in his giant grip, mine to oppose science to strength, and
avoid his bear-hug. We swayed back and forth to the sharp pitching of
the ship, barely able to keep our feet, sparring for some advantage.
Once he would have had me, but for a lunge of the vessel which sent
him sprawling on hands and knees; yet, before I could recover, the man
was up again, furious with anger. This time, he sprang straight at me,
uttering a growl of rage, determined to smash me to the deck by the
very power of his onslaught. But I side-stepped him, getting in two
swift blows, which rocked his head, and tore open one cheek, from
which blood trickled. Yet he kept his feet, blindly gripping for me,
driven almost crazy by the pain of my last blow, and the jeers of his
mates.
I evaded his clutch by leaping aside, but the space was far too small
to permit these tactics to carry long, and finally he had me. Yet,
even as he seemingly crushed the very breath out of me, his giant
strength met with a resistance which increased his fury. Already the
fellow had lost his head, but I fought coolly, putting my skill
against brute force, every wrestler's trick I knew flashing into my
brain. Breathless, my flesh scraped and bruised, I wriggled partly
free, and tripped him, his great body striking the deck with a thud. I
fell with him, dragged down by his desperate grip, but was first upon
my feet, saluted by a roar of delight from the lips of those crowding
about us. As he staggered up also, cursing fiercely, his lips drawn
back in a snarl, his brutal face, that of a wild animal, I struck him
again, a blow which would have ended the game, had not my foot slipped
on the reeling deck. As it was it drove him to his knees, groggy, and
with one eye half closed, yet with strength enough left to regain his
feet as soon as I. This time he charged me like a wild bull, froth
whitening his lips, scarcely appearing human in the yellow light. In
mad rage he forgot all caution, all pretense at defense, his one
thought to reach me with his hands, and throttle me into lifeless
pulp. Here was where skill and coolness won. I fought him back,
driving blow on blow through his guard, sidestepping his mad rushes,
landing again and again on his body. Twice I got in over his heart,
and at last, found the chance I sought, and sent a right jab straight
to the chin. All the force of one hundred and eighty pounds was behind
the clinched fist, and the negro went down as though floored by a
poleaxe. Once weakly he endeavored to rise, but this time I used my
left, and he never stirred again, lying there with no sign of life
except the quivering of the huge body. Assured that he was down and
out, I stood above him, gazing into the ring of excited faces.
"That's one attended to," I said shortly. "Now is there any more of
you who would like to fight this out?"
There was no answer although the ring widened under the threat of my
eyes, and I met sullen faces here and there. I was in no mood to take
chances.
"Carlson," I said, glancing back at him. "You know all these men?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pick out those you can trust, and have them stand over there to the
right. Call them out by name; be lively now."
They stepped forth eagerly enough, and ranged themselves before the
bunks, the faces mostly those of northern Europe, although a negro or
two was among them. As the Swede ceased calling, six or seven yet
remained clustered in front of me, a motley lot, one of them an
Indian, the others mostly half-breeds. I glanced from face to face
inquiringly.
"How about it, you?" I asked. "Are there any more of you fellows who
take a chance with us? This is my last offer?"
"What's the game?" asked a sullen voice in English, and a bearded
fellow burned black, pushed his way to the front. I had not noted his
presence before, but instantly recognized his character.
"Are you English?"
"No; I used ter be Scotch; now I'm damned if I know what I am. One
flag is as good as another ter me--only I want to know what sorter
game I'm playin' in. Who the hell are yer? An' whar'd yer cum frum?"
"I am an English seaman," I answered shortly, "and how I came aboard
makes no difference. Right now I am the only navigator on the
_Namur_."
"What's happened ter Estada?"
"He's dead--knifed last night by one of the buccaneers. Manuel Estevan
had a hand in the business, and he's safely locked in a stateroom aft.
Captain Sanchez is wounded and helpless, and those cut-throats
amidships are battened down below hatches. LeVere and I are the
officers left, and we control the deck. We had to fight it out, or
likely it would be our turn next."
"Yer mean those fellers were aimin' ter take the ship?"
"Exactly that; now where are you lads? With Manuel and his bunch of
pirates? Or with us?"
"What er yer going ter do with us, an' this ship? That's the fu'st
question."
I had not decided that even in my own mind, but the answer came
promptly enough, as my eyes swept the faces fronting me.
"What's your name?"
"Ben MacClintock."
"Well, MacClintock. I am going to leave that to the crew. As soon as
we have all secure, I'll have every man on deck, and then we'll talk
it over. That's fair enough isn't it?"
"It looks fair. Come on, mates; I'm fer the Englishman."
Only one followed him, however, a sheep-faced boy; the others remained
sullen, and defiant. Likely enough they failed to understand what had
been said, but I had no further time to waste in explanations. I
glanced up at Carter's face framed in the scuttle hole.
"Your guard there?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Pass these men up and take them forward with the others. Turn them
over to Watkins. Then come back here, and report to me."
"Ay, ay, sir."
They went up the ladder one by one, and disappeared onto the deck
above, the majority cheerful enough, although a few of the faces were
scowling darkly as they passed me. Carlson and I watched the others,
the Swede still retaining his pistol in hand, until Carter stuck his
head once again through the opening.
"All safe, sir--they was like lambs."
"Very well; stand by to help. Now you lads, lift this black brute and
shove him up to where they can get hold above. Step lively unless you
want trouble. Show them the way Carlson."
It was some heavy job, but they finally hoisted the unconscious form
up the ladder and forced it through the hole onto the deck. At my
stern command the others also crawled forth into the sunlight, where
Carlson and I followed them, leaving the forecastle deserted. I felt
that I must dispose of these fellows before attempting anything else,
and scarcely took time to glance about. They were huddled in a little
bunch around the outstretched body of Cochose, helpless from lack of
leadership.
"Pick up the negro; yes, you fellows. Now aft with him--all of you."
We halted at the main hatch, and I had the cover slipped to one side,
the armed sailors gathering close about the edge, as I peered down. It
was a scene of pandemonium, revealed in the yellow flame of slush
lanterns, a group of white faces showing clearly, as the prisoners
below struggled forward, gesticulating and shouting. The glow of light
glistened on a variety of weapons, but I dare not send men below, into
the midst of those shrieking devils to disarm them. Nor was I greatly
afraid of the result at present. They must still be in total ignorance
of what had occurred on board, and why the hatch had been fastened
down. Indeed this was plainly evidenced by their cries and threats.
They were leaderless, confused, unable to determine what to attempt.
While they remained in that condition they could not greatly endanger
my plan. Later, with a body of armed seamen behind me, I would compel
the surrender of weapons, but now I must hold them as they were,
quarreling among themselves, and take time to strengthen my authority
on deck. With this in mind, ignoring their mad roaring, and the threat
of leveled guns, I stared down at the infuriated faces, until the
clamor ceased sufficiently to let my voice be heard. I used Spanish,
my lack of facility in that tongue rendering my speech slow. The
instant silence proved my words understood.
"What are you men trying to do, frighten me? You might as well stop
that. This opening is lined with guns, and if one of you fire a shot
we'll pour lead into you. More than that; if you attempt to climb out,
you'll meet a hot reception. There is a brass carronade trained on
the hatch to sweep you to kingdom come. So listen!"
Several voices shouted up inquiries, but one, shrill and insistent,
rose clearly above the others.
"What's happening? What yer going to do with us?"
I thought I located the questioner among the jumbled mass below, and
with my eyes on him, answered for all his mates.
"We are in control of the ship," I called back, "and mean to keep it.
The old officers are either dead or prisoners. What we do with you
will depend on your actions, but we're ready to kill if necessary. If
you keep quiet down there, and obey orders, you'll be fed, and treated
decently enough. Pass up your arms."
There was no movement, only a glare of hostile eyes, an
indistinguishable growl of voices.
"Kneel down, lads and cover those fellows," I ordered sternly drawing
my own pistol. "Now you below there, this is my last word. I'll count
ten, and you'll either pass up those weapons or we'll pour our fire
into you. If your miserable lives are worth anything to you, the
quicker you move the better. Take aim, boys."
There was a moment of deathly silence, except for my counting and the
heavy breathing of the trapped prisoners. One man uttered a curse, and
the jam of figures at the foot of the ladder endeavored to work back
out of range, yet, before I had spoken the word eight, guns were held
aloft, and poked up within reach, and at this sign of surrender even
the most desperate lost heart and joined the more cowardly. It was a
strange collection of weapons stacked on the deck--guns, cutlasses,
knives and pistols of every description, relics of many a foray, some
apparently very old. Probably all had not been delivered, yet there
was such a pile, I felt no further fear of the few pieces remaining
hidden. It was not my intention that the villains should have the
slightest chance to use the weapons, so when the stream finally
ceased, I asked no questions, although I gave no orders to the guard
to withdraw. I had the fellows cowed, and meant to keep them so.
"That's all, is it? Very well--now you men at the foot of the ladder
take care of this big nigger we're sending down; no, he is not dead,
only stunned. Let him have a bucket of water, and he'll be all right.
Now stand aside while a few of your friends join you; they'll tell you
what's up. Make room there?"
We passed the forecastle scum down one after the other, and as the
last of these merged into the scarcely distinguishable mass below, I
gave vent to a sigh of relief, and straightened up, with pistol still
grasped in my hand. They were now bunched together, all of them, and
confined where they would prove the least possible danger. Desperate
and reckless as many of them were, we had them now safely in our own
hands--disarmed and imprisoned within narrow limits. To be sure they
might wreck the bark by fire, or otherwise, but that would only peril
their own lives, and, no matter how willing some might be to accept
this hazard of fortune, there would be more to oppose the
proposition--forcibly, if necessary. For them to escape the only means
was through treachery, and against that possibility I must guard. I
knew little of the men who had responded to my call, and chosen me as
leader. Some among them I could trust, but others were merely with me
while I retained power--would desert at the first doubt. I must rely
on the judgment of Watkins as to whom among them I could safely depend
upon, and suspicion and watch the rest. It was no pleasant position,
yet success thus far had come so easily the knowledge was no
discouragement.
"When we goin' ter be fed?" yelled a voice from below.
"Presently," I answered. "As soon as the cook has it ready. Shove the
hatch cover back into place, lads--yes it will be safer fastened down;
they'll get air enough through treachery, and against that possibility
I must caged."
Satisfied that every precaution had been taken, and ignoring the
indignant roar of voices which greeted this order, I watched the men
shift the heavy hatch cover into place, and then permitted my eyes to
survey the deck, as I hastily considered our next action.
CHAPTER XXII
THE CREW DECIDES
Except that many of the men remained armed there was no suggestion of
violence visible, no reminder of the fact that we were mutineers. But
for the gleaming carronade trained on the main hatch, and the small
group of gunners clustered about it, the scene was peaceable enough,
resembling the deck of some merchant ship. The bark held steadily to
her course, with practically every inch of canvas set, the wind
steady, and only a single hand at the wheel. LeVere stood motionless
at the poop rail, staring down, as though scarcely realizing what had
transpired on board, and some way his very attitude and expression of
face aroused within me a doubt of the man, a determination to put him
to the test. Evidently he had held aloof and cautiously refrained from
taking even the slightest part in our activities. The men themselves
were mostly forward, grouped together and still excitedly discussing
the situation. That all among them were not satisfied was indicated by
their gestures, and the fact that Watkins, and others of the more
loyal, were passing from group to group combating their arguments.
Plainly enough I must have a heart-to-heart talk with the fellows,
outlining a plan of escape, and leaving them to imagine their choice
in the matter would be followed. But, in the meanwhile action of some
sort would be most apt to overcome their dissatisfaction and prevent
discussion.
The sky overhead was a pale blue, the sun shining, but as through a
slight haze, while a heavy cloud of vapor obscured the western
horizon. Although this promised fog rather than storm, yet the sea had
a heavy swell and I accepted this threat of a change in weather to
employ the men in reducing sail. It pleased me to note how swiftly
they responded to the sound of my voice.
"Stand by to reef topsails," I shouted. "We're all one watch now. Go
at it lively, lads, and when the job is over we'll eat, and decide
together what's our next move. Two of you will be enough to guard the
hatch and you Carter, go into the cabin and relieve the girl there.
Keep your eyes open. I'll be down presently. Aloft with you and see
how quick a job you can make of it."
Watkins led the way up the main-mast ratlines, and Cole was first into
the fore shrouds, the others following eagerly. I watched them lay out
on the yards and was heartened to hear the fellows sing as they
worked, the canvas melting away as if by magic. Only three men
remained in sight on the main deck, the two guarding the closed hatch,
and one watching the open scuttle leading into the deserted
forecastle. Back and forth in the galley the cook and his assistant
passed the open door and Carter had disappeared through the companion.
I climbed the ladder to where LeVere stood on the poop, but carefully
ignored his presence, my gaze on the scene aloft. Twice I gave orders,
changing the steering direction slightly, and commanding the lower
sails reefed. The mulatto scowling, joined me at the rail.
"Main-top there!" I called sharply. "Anything to report?"
"No, sir; all haze off the port quarter, and nothing showing to
starboard."
"Keep a lookout; let the others lay down."
LeVere fronted me.
"What's all this about?" he asked. "That's no storm cloud yonder."
"There is always danger in fog," I answered coldly, "and besides there
is no use carrying on until we know where we are bound. My purpose is
to keep the men busy, and then talk the situation over with them. Have
you any criticism of this plan, Senor LeVere?"
He hesitated, but his eyes were narrowed, and ugly.
"You'll do as you please, but you told me we sailed for Porto Grande.
Was that a lie?"
"Not necessarily," and I smiled grimly. "Although I should not have
hesitated to tell one under the circumstances. I mean to leave that
decision to the men themselves. It is their lives that are in danger."
"That damn scum! half of them are English and French. All they want is
to get away; they will never go back to Porto Grande without you make
them."
"How make them?"
"By false observations; there is no navigator forward. It is a trick
easy enough to play with a little nerve. I would never have taken part
in this mutiny if I had supposed you meant to play into the hands of
the men."
"It is very little part you took Senor LeVere, judging from what I
saw. You seemed quite content to stand aft here and look on. However
you are in it just as deeply as I am, and are going to play the game
out with me to the end. Do you understand that?"
"What you mean, Senor--play it out?"
"Go on with the rest of us; take your chance with the men and do your
duty. I am captain here, and I know how to handle insubordination. The
first sign of treachery on your part, will send you below with those
others. I don't trust you, and all I want is an excuse to put you out
of the way--so be careful what you do."
I turned and walked away from him toward the forward rail. The men
were still aloft but coming in from off the yards. Below me in the
door of the companion, stood Dorothy, her eyes peering curiously about
the deserted deck. She glanced up, and saw me, the whole expression of
her face changing.
"May I come up there?" she asked.
"Certainly; let me help you. Stand here beside me, and you can see all
that is being done. That's all, lads; breakfast is ready; lay down all
except the lookout."
We watched while they streamed down the ratlines and gathered forward
of the galley, squatting in groups on the deck. To all appearances the
fellows had not a care in the world, or any thought of the stirring
scenes just passed through. The girl's hand touched my sleeve, and I
turned and looked into her face.
"A happy-go-lucky lot," I said pleasantly. "Real sailormen. As long as
they are fed and housed why worry about tomorrow. I'll put this job up
to them presently."
"The sailor who came into the cabin told me about your fight with the
negro; you were not hurt?"
"Oh, I did not escape entirely free, but received no serious injury.
It is not to be thought about now, with all the work ahead."
"The ship is safely in your hands?"
"I can hardly affirm that, Miss Dorothy. The vessel is in our control,
and the worst of the gang secured below. I have confidence in the
loyalty of only a very few of these fellows, and the others will have
to be watched day and night as long as we remain afloat. Those are
desperate men locked below, and are bound to make some effort to free
themselves. If there is any treachery on deck it may lead to their
release."
"You were talking with Senor LeVere; I overheard a word or two. He is
not with you willingly?"