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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 16. "Cold Pison"

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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. "COLD PISON"

Roberts kept his word that same evening, for just as the darkness was setting in and the two lads had walked forward to lean over the side and gaze down at the unruffled transparent sea and wonder which were reflections of the golden glory of the stars and which were the untold myriads of phosphorescent creatures that, as far down as eye could penetrate, spangled the limpid sea, the lad suddenly gave his companion a nudge with his elbow.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Murray.

"Look here, and I'll show you."

"Well, I'm looking; but it's too dark to see what you are fumbling over."

"How stupid! What a blind old bat you are! Well, it's a piece of plum duff."

"Why, you're like a school-boy," said Murray.

"Oh no, I'm not."

"You may say oh no you're not, but fancy me saving up a bit of cold pudding from dinner and bringing it out of my jacket pocket to eat!"

"Ah, but you have no reason for doing it. I have."

"What, are you going to use it as a bait?"

"That's it, my son; but I'm not going to use hook or line."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Throw it over for one of the sharks we saw cruising about before sundown."

"But what for? You don't want to pet sharks with cold pudding."

"No. Guess again."

"Stuff! Speak out."

"Poison--cold pison."

"What! Why, you would never see the brute that took it turn up in the darkness."

"Don't want to, my son," said the lad solemnly.

"Look here, Dick, it's too hot, to-night, and I'm too tired and sleepy to try and puzzle out your conundrums, so if you want me to understand what you're about you had better speak out. What a rum chap you are!"

"I am."

"One hour you're all a fellow could wish; the next you are red-hot to quarrel. See how you were this afternoon when the doctor was talking to you."

"Ah! I was out of temper then, but now I feel so happy that a child might play with me."

"Glad to hear it, but I don't want to be child-like, and I don't want to play."

"Perhaps not, but you'll be interested."

"Fire away, then. What has made you so happy?"

"I had an idea."

"Well, look sharp, or I shall fall asleep with my head resting on my arms."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Roberts. "You see that solid lump of pudding?"

"I told you before I can't see it."

"Feel it then."

"No, I'll be hanged if I do! Why should I feel a nasty piece of cold pudding?"

"Don't be so jolly particular; it's quite dry."

"Look here, Dick, are you going off your head?"

"I thought I was when the idea came, for it set me laughing so that I could not stop myself."

"Come, tell me what it all means, or I shall go below to my berth. What is there in all this?"

"Poison, I tell you."

"Yes, you told me before; but what does it mean?"

"You see that lump of pudding; well, there's poison in it."

"Dick Roberts, I'm hot and easily aggravated. If you go on like this I shall be as quarrelsome as you were this afternoon."

"Well, there, it was all my idea that I had this afternoon. I got that lump of pudding from the cook, took it down to my berth, pulled out my knife, put the box on the side of the pudding, and cut out a piece exactly the size of the box."

"Wh-a-a-t! You mean you cut a piece out of the box just the size of the pudding?"

"No, I don't, my son. You don't understand yet. Can't you see I'm talking about a pill-box?"

"Oh-h-h!"

"Now don't you see? I cut a hole in the pudding and slipped the box in, and then made a stopper of the pudding I had cut out, and corked up the hole with the box inside."

"I begin to see now," said Murray. "A pill-box full of poison to kill the shark that swallows the poison."

"I don't care whether it kills the fish or no as long as I get rid of the stuff."

"Now you are getting confused again. Why should you try to poison a shark like this? What good would it do--what difference would one shark make out of the thousands which infest the sea?"

"Oh, Franky, what a Dummkopf you are, as the Germans say!"

"Don't care what the Germans say, and I dare say I am a stupid-head, for I can't make out what you are driving at."

"You can't? Why, I'm going to make the shark take the poison instead of taking it myself."

"But what poison?"

"Old Reston's: the two blue pills. Then I shall pitch the bottle of horrible draught overboard. I don't care what becomes of that so long as it sinks to the bottom."

"Oh, I see plainly enough now," said Murray.

"And pretty well time, my boy! Wasn't it a capital idea?"

"No," said Murray bluntly. "Stupid, I say."

"Not it, old chap. Don't you see that it is liver medicine?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, sharks have livers. They fish for them in the Mediterranean, take out the livers, and boil them down to sell for cod liver oil."

"Then that's a lie," said Murray. "Perhaps it's being a lie made you think of it."

"Why?"

"Because you'll have to tell the doctor a lie when he asks you if you took the medicine."

"But he won't ask."

"He will, for certain."

"How do you know? Did he ever ask you?"

"Well, no," said Murray thoughtfully; "I can't say that he did. He never gave me any, only touched me up a bit when I was hurt."

"Then don't you be so jolly knowing, my fine fellow," cried Roberts. "You can't tell if he hasn't doctored you, and I'm quite sure about it, for I know well from nasty experience of his ways that he will not bother one with questions as you think. He gives the fellows physic to take, and just asks them next day how they feel."

"Well, that's what I say," cried Murray triumphantly. "Isn't that just the same?"

"No, not a bit of it. He just asks them how they feel next day; that's all. He takes it for granted that they have swallowed his boluses and draughts. He'll ask me to-morrow how I feel, and I shall tell him I am all right."

"You'll tell him a lie then. Very honourable, upon my word!"

"Here's a pretty how-de-do, Mr Ultra-particular, with your bully bounce about telling a lie! I shan't do anything of the kind. I shall tell him I'm all right because I am quite well, thank you. Bother him and his horrible old stuff! I know I should be pretty mouldy and out of sorts if I took it. Let him ask the shark how he feels, if he gets the chance, for here it goes. Pudding first, which means pills--there!"

A faint splash followed a movement on the part of the midshipman, and Murray saw the calm sea agitated, and faint flashes of phosphorescent light appear, while directly after it was as if something made a rush; the depths grew ablaze with pale lambent cold fire, and Roberts gave vent to an ejaculation expressive of his delight.

"A shark for a shilling," he cried, "and a big one too. You see if he doesn't hang about the sloop and show himself in the morning, turning up his eyes on the lookout for whoever it was that tried to poison him."

"Turning up his eyes!" said Murray. "Nonsense! If it was as you say the shark would be turning up its white underparts and floating wrong way up."

"Maybe; but hold hard a minute; it's rather soon to exhibit the other dose, as old Reston calls it. I'm not going to make an exhibition of myself, though, this time, so here goes. You see if Jack Shark doesn't go for the bottle as soon as I throw it overboard. Here goes!" _Splash_!

"How stupid!" said Roberts. "I ought to have drawn the cork."

"Oh no," said Murray, laughing. "I don't suppose the directions said, to be taken in water."

"Um--no. But what's to be done? Look; he's got it."

For as the descent of the bottle Roberts had thrown in could be traced by the way in which the tiny phosphorescent creatures were disturbed, lower and lower through the deep water, there was another vivid flash made by some big fish as it gave a tremendous flourish with its tail, and the midshipman rubbed his hands with delight.

"He's got it, I'm sure," he cried. "But what's to be done? No use to pitch in a corkscrew."

"Not a bit, Dick," replied Murray cheerily.

"What a pity! I ought to have known better. He's got it, but the glass will stop the draught from having the proper effect."

"Oh no; perhaps not," said Murray, laughing. "I've read that sharks have wonderful digestions."

"Well, let's hope this one has. I shall like to look out for him to-morrow watching for the doctor, as he squints up from the wake of the sloop."

"More likely to be looking up for you, old fellow. The doctor didn't throw the bottle in."

"Oh, well, never mind that. I don't suppose the horrible beast knows the difference. I've got rid of the stuff, anyhow; that's all I care about; and nobody knows but you."

"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said a voice out of the darkness; "was you a-chucking anything overboard?"

There was a short time of silence, for Murray waited so as to give his messmate a chance to answer the question; but as the latter made no reply he took the duty upon himself.

"That you, Tom May?" he asked.

"Ay, ay, sir. Somebody chucked somethin' overboard twiced, and I was wondering whether it was you gents."

"Why?" said Roberts shortly. "Couldn't it have been one of the watch?"

"No, sir; they're aft, or t'other side of the ship."

"Well, it was, Tom."

"Oh, all right, sir. You'll 'scuse me asking? I only did 'cause the skipper's very partickler since one of the lads got making away with some of the ship's stores, and there's no knowing what mischief the boys might be up to. Then, o' course, sir, there's nothing for me to report to the officer of the watch?"

"No: nothing at all, Tom. Haven't got anything more to throw in, have you, Murray?"

"Not so much as a single pill," said Murray drily.

"Eh? No, of course not. The water's so still and clear, Tom," continued the middy hurriedly, "you can see the fish dash after anything, making the sea flash quite deep down."

"Oh yes, sir, I've seen that. It's the sharks, sir; there's often one hanging about right below the keel on the lookout for anything that may be chucked overboard. I believe, sir, as they've got sense enough to know that they may have a bit o' luck and have a chance at an onlucky chap as slips overboard or gets tempted into having a bathe. Wonderful cunning critters, sir, is sharks. I'm always glad when there's a hook with a bit o' pork trailed overboard and one's hauled aboard and cut up to see what he's got inside."

"What!" said Roberts excitedly. "Ripped up to see what's inside?"

"Yes, sir. Don't you remember that one we caught 'bout a month ago? Oh no, of course not. You was ashore with the skipper's gig at Seery Leony. That there was a whopper, sir, and he did lay about with his tail, till the cook had it off with a lucky chop of his meat axe. That quieted the beggar a bit, and give him a chance to open Mr Jack Shark up and see what he'd had for dinner lately."

"And did you find anything, Tom?" asked Roberts.

"Find anything, sir!" replied the man. "I should just think we did! I mean, the lads did, sir; I warn't going to mess myself up with the bloodthirsty varmint."

"Of course not," said Murray mischievously; "but what did they find? Anything bad?--Physic bottle, for instance? Bother! What are you doing, Roberts?" For his companion gave him a savage dig in the dark with his elbow. "Oh, nothing!"

"Physic bottle, sir?" continued the sailor wonderingly. "Not as I know on. More likely to ha' been an empty rum bottle. Wouldn't ha' been a full un," added the man, chuckling. "But I tell you what they did find, sir, and that was 'bout half-a-dozen o' them round brass wire rings as the black women wears on their arms and legs."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Roberts, with a shudder. "How horrible!"

"Yes, sir; that seemed to tell tales like. Looked as if Jack had ketched some poor black women swimming at the mouth o' one of the rivers as runs down into the sea."

"Possibly," said Murray.

"Yes, sir; that's it. I did hear once of a shark being caught with a jack knife inside him. It warn't no good, being all rusted up; but a jack knife it was, all the same, with a loop at the end o' the haft where some poor chap had got it hung round him by a lanyard--some poor lad who had fell overboard, and the shark had been waiting for him. You see, sir, such things as brass rings and jack knives wouldn't 'gest like, as the doctor calls it."

"No; suppose not," said Murray, who added, after drawing back a little out of the reach of Roberts's elbow, "and a bottle of physic would not digest either."

"Not it, sir," replied the man, "onless it got broken, or the cork come out."

"Er-r-r!" growled Roberts, in quite a menacing tone.

"He wouldn't like it, o' course, sir," said the man, speaking as if he were playing into the midshipman's hand and chuckling the while. "Doctors' stuff arn't pleasant to take for human sailors, and I don't s'pose it would 'gree with sharks. I've been thinking, though, that I should like to shy a bottle o' rum overboard, corked up, say, with a bit o' the cook's duff. That would 'gest, and then he'd get the rum. Think it would kill him, sir?"

"No, I don't," said Murray. "Ask Mr Roberts what he thinks. He's very clever over such things as that; eh, Roberts?"

"Oh, stuff!" cried the middy. "Nonsense!"

"You might tell him what you think, though," said Murray. "You know how fond you are of making experiments."

"Do talk sense," cried the lad petulantly. "Look here, May, I think it would be a great waste of useful stores to do such a thing."

"Yes, sir; so do I," said the man; "and that's talking sense, and no mistake. Beg pardon, gentlemen, but what do you think of the skipper's ideas?"

"What about?" asked Murray sharply. "We don't canvass what our officers plan to do."

"Don't know about canvassing them, sir," said the man, "but I meant no harm, only we've been talking it over a deal in the forc'sle, and we should like to know whether the captain means to give up trying after the slave skipper."

"No, certainly not."

"That's right, sir," said the man eagerly. "Glad on it. But it's got about that we was sailing away from the coast here, which is such a likely spot for dropping upon him."

"Well, I don't mind answering you about that, Tom. Mind, I don't want my name to be given as an authority, but I believe that Captain Kingsberry means to cross to the western shores and search every likely port for that schooner, and what is more, to search until he finds where she is."

"Hah!" ejaculated the sailor. "If the skipper has said that, sir, he has spoken out like a man. Hooroar! We shall do it, then, at last. But I dunno, though, sir," added the man thoughtfully.

"Don't know what?" asked Murray.

"Oh, nothing, sir."

"Bother! Don't talk like that," cried Murray. "Nothing is more aggravating than beginning to say something and then chopping it off in that way. Speak out and say what you mean."

"'Tain't no good, sir," said the man sulkily.

"No good?"

"No, sir. Why, if I was to say what I'd got inside my head you'd either begin to bullyrag me--"

"Nonsense, May! I'm sure I never do."

"Well, then, sir, call me a hidjit, and say it was all sooperstition."

"Well, that's likely enough," said Murray. "You sailors are full of old women's tales."

"Mebbe, sir," said the man, shaking his head slowly; "but old women is old, and the elders do grow wise."

"Sometimes, Tom," said Murray, laughing, "and a wise old woman is worth listening to; but you can't say that for a man who talks like a foolish old woman and believes in all kinds of superstitious nonsense."

"No, sir: of course not, sir," said the man solemnly; "but there is things, you know."

"Oh yes, I do know that, Tom--such as setting sail with a black cat on board."

"Oh, well, sir, come!" protested the sailor warmly. "You can't say as a man's a hidjit for believing that. Something always happens if you do that."

"I could say so, Tom," replied the middy, "but I'm not going to."

"Well, sir, begging your pardon as gentleman, I'm werry sorry for it; but there, you're very young."

"Go on, Tom."

"That's all, sir. I warn't going to say no more."

"But you are thinking a deal more. That was as good as saying that I'm very young and don't know any better."

"Oh, I didn't go so far as to think that, sir, because you're a hofficer and a gentleman, and a scholar who has larnt more things than I ever heerd of; but still, sir, I dessay you won't mind owning as a fellow as has been at sea from fourteen to four-and-thirty has picked up things such as you couldn't larn at school."

"Black cats, for instance, Tom?"

"Yes, sir. Ah, you may laugh to yourself, but there's more than you think of about a black cat."

"A black skin, for instance, Tom, and if the poor brute was killed and skinned he'd look exactly like a white cat or a tortoise-shell."

"Oh, that's his skin, sir; it's his nature."

"Pooh! What can there be in a black cat's nature?"

"Don't know; that's the mystery on it."

"Can't you explain what the mystery is?"

"No, sir, and I never met a shipmate as could."

"Bother the cat! It's all rubbish, Tom."

"Yes, sir, and it bothers the man; but there it is, all the same. You ask any sailor chap, and--"

"Yes, I know, Tom; and he'll talk just as much nonsense as you."

"P'raps so, sir, but something bad allus happens to a ship as has a black cat aboard."

"And something always happens to a ship that has any cat on board. And what is more, something always happens to a ship that has no cat at all on board. Look at our _Seafowl_, for instance."

"Yes, sir, you may well say that," said the man sadly. "The chaps have talked about it a deal, and we all says as she's an unfortnit ship."

"Oh, you all think so, do you, Tom?"

"Yes, sir, we do," said the man solemnly.

"Then you may depend upon it, Tom, that there's a black cat hidden away somewhere in the hold."

"Ah! Come aboard, sir, in port, after the rats? That would account for it, sir, and 'splain it all," cried the man eagerly. "You think that's it, do you, sir?"

"No, I don't, Tom; I'm laughing at you for being such an old woman. I did give you the credit of having more sense. I'm ashamed of you."

"Thankye, sir," said the man sadly.

"You are quite welcome, Tom," said Murray, laughing; "but I suppose you can't help all these weak beliefs."

"No, sir, we can't help it, some of us," said the man simply; "it all comes of being at sea."

"There being so much salt in the water, perhaps," said Murray.

"Mebbe, sir; but I don't see what the salt could have to do with it."

"Neither do I, Tom, and if I didn't know what a good fellow you are, and what a brave sailor, I should be ready to tell you a good deal more than I shall."

"Go on, sir; I don't mind, sir. I know you mean well."

"But look here; I'm sorry to hear that your messmates think the _Seafowl_ is an unfortunate craft. But not all, I hope?"

"Yes, sir; we all think so."

"That's worse still, Tom. But you don't mean to forsake her--desert--I hope?"

"Forsake her--desert? Not me! She's unlucky, sir, and no one can't help it. Bad luck comes to every one sometimes, same as good luck does, sir. We takes it all, sir, just as it comes, just as we did over the landing t'other day--Titely was the unlucky one then, and got a spear through his shoulder, while though lots of their pretty weapons come flying about us no one else was touched; on'y got a bit singed. He took it like a man, sir."

"That he did, Tom. It was most plucky of him, for he was a good deal hurt."

"Yes, sir--deal more than you young gents thought for. But no, sir: forsake or desert our ship? Not we! She's a good, well-found craft, sir, with a fine crew and fine officers. They ain't puffick, sir; but they might be a deal worse. I'm satisfied, sir."

"I believe you, Tom," said Murray, laughing, "and there is no black cat on board, for if there were some one must have seen her or him before now, and it wouldn't have made a bit of difference." _

Read next: Chapter 17. Overhauling A Stranger

Read previous: Chapter 15. The Doctor Is Riled

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