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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 18. Rather Fishy |
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_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. RATHER FISHY "What!" said the first lieutenant sharply. "Now, look here, Mr Roberts--and you too, Mr Murray, for you are just as bad. You both give yourselves airs, and though you say nothing you are always showing off, trying to impress the men with the idea that you are men grown." "I beg your pardon, sir--" began Roberts. "Now, don't deny it, sir. I know it for a fact. Do you think that I can't read you through and through--you in particular, Mr Roberts, for you are far the worst. Not that you have much to boast about, Mr Murray." "I am very sorry, sir," said the latter. "No, you are not, sir," said the chief officer abruptly. "Let's have deeds, not words. If you were really sorry that you had been playing the imitative monkey you would pitch the antics overboard." "Antics, sir?" cried Roberts. "Yes, sir--antics. I said antics," cried the officer sharply, "so don't repeat my words and force me to do the same. A boy's a boy, sir, and a man's a man. A good boy is a rarity on shipboard, but very valuable when you get him; and a good man--a really good man at sea is worth his weight in gold; but I detest a hobbledehoy who apes the man, and I generally look upon him as worthless. Don't grunt, Mr Roberts. It's disrespectful to your superior officer. You might very well follow the example of Mr Murray, who never resents reproof when he deserves it. There, you need not make that disparaging grimace. You might follow Mr Murray's example in a good many things. Now, I am sure he would not have come and asked leave like you did. It must have been your idea alone." "I'm afraid I had as much to do with it as Roberts, sir," said Murray frankly. "More shame for you to have to own it, sir," said the first lieutenant; "but I like you to own up all the same. Still, I don't like two young fellows who are trying to impress their elders that they are men to be seizing every opportunity to prove that they are mere boys with all the instincts wide awake of children." "I'm very sorry, sir," said Roberts again, this time very stiffly. "I am sorry I asked for permission." "I don't believe you, Mr Roberts," said the officer stiffly. "Now, both of you tell me this--are you perfectly efficient in your navigation?" Roberts uttered a snort. "No, sir," said Murray, "of course not. I'm a long way off being perfect." "Then why in the name of common sense don't you seize upon every opportunity to master that grand study, like a man, and not come bothering me like a little boy who wants to go out to the pond to catch tittlebats? I'm ashamed of you both." "It was only to have a little recreation, sir," said Murray. "What do you want with recreation, I should like to know? Do you ever see me running after recreation?" "No, sir," said Murray; "but then, sir, you're a first lieutenant." "Yes, sir, and that's what you will never be so long as you hanker after childish pastimes." "I'm very sorry, sir--" began Murray. "Don't keep saying you are very sorry; it only makes the matter worse, when I have so much upon my mind. It's absurd, gentlemen. I wonder at you. Just because you see a few dolphins and albicores swimming below the ship's counter you must want to begin playing with the grains. There, be off, both of you. What would be the good of the fish if you harpooned them?" "Make a nice change for the table, sir. The cook said--" "Hang the cook!" cried the officer angrily. "What are you laughing at?" "Only smiling, sir." "And pray what at? Is there anything peculiar in my face?" "No, sir," said Murray merrily. "I was only thinking of the consequences if we two obeyed your orders." "Orders! I gave no orders." "You said, hang the cook, sir," said Murray. "Rubbish! Absurd! There, I told you both to be off. I'm not going to give you leave to play idle boys. If you want leave, there's the captain yonder; go and ask him." "He'd only say, sir, why didn't we ask leave of you." "And very proper too," said the first lieutenant, "and if he does say so you can tell him I would not give you leave because I thought it waste of time for young men who want to rise in their profession. What was that you muttered, Mr Murray?" "I only said to myself, sir, 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'" "Yes; very true, my lad," said the officer, with a grim smile. "I'm not unreasonable, and I'd give you leave; but perhaps you had better ask your chief." "Thank you, sir," said Murray. "And look here, Murray; if you get permission, be careful. I don't want the routine of the ship to be interfered with and my men set hovering about to pick up a couple of useless idlers, and every one upset by the cry of a man overboard--I mean, a boy." "I'll try not to be that boy," said Murray, smiling; and the chief officer gave him a friendly nod and walked forward. "Bah!" grumbled Roberts. "There's favouritism." "Nonsense!" "'Tisn't. He always favours you." "Not he." "To turn upon us like that just because it's almost a calm! A growling old snarly! I never saw such a temper. Now he has gone forward to set the men to do something that doesn't want doing." "He's a bit out of temper this morning because the skipper has been at him about something." "Yes; I heard him at it. Nice pair they are, and a pretty life they lead the men!" "Oh, well, never mind that. Tom May has got the grains and the line ready, and I want to begin." "A boy! Apeing a man, and all that stuff!" muttered Roberts. "I suppose he never was a boy in his life." "Oh, wasn't he! There, never mind all that." "But I do mind it, sir," said Roberts haughtily, as he involuntarily began to pass his fingers over the spot just beneath his temples where the whisker down was singed. "I consider that his words were a perfect insult." "Perfect or imperfect, what does it matter? Come on, _sir_. I want to begin harpooning." "What do you mean by that?" cried Roberts, turning upon him angrily. "What do I mean?" "Yes; by using the word _sir_ to me in that meaning way." "You got on the stilts, and I only followed suit. There, there, don't be so touchy. Go on and ask the skipper for leave." "No, thank you. I don't want to play the idle boy." "Don't you? Then I do, and what's more, I know you do." "Then you are quite wrong." "If I'm wrong you told a regular crammer not half-an-hour ago, for you said you'd give anything for a turn with the grains this morning." "I have no recollection of saying anything of the kind," said the lad angrily. "What a memory! I certainly thought I heard you say so to Tom May; and there he is with the line and the jolly old trident all ready. There, come on and let's ask the chief." "If you want to go idling, go and ask him for yourself. I'm going down to our dog-hole of a place to study navigation in the dark." "Don't believe you, Dicky." "You can believe what you please, sir," said Roberts coldly. "All right. I'm off, and I shall ask leave for us both." "You dare! I forbid it," cried Roberts angrily. "All right," said Murray, turning on his heel, "but I shall ask for us both, and if you mean to forbid it you'd better come with me to the skipper." Murray waited a few moments, standing watching the captain where he was marching up and down the quarter-deck, and timing himself so as to meet him full as he walked forward. Roberts hesitated for a few moments and then followed closely, looking fiercely determined the while. "Well, Mr Murray," said the captain sharply, as he became aware of the presence of the lad, who touched his cap. "What is it--a petition?" "Yes, sir. A good many bonito are playing about the bows." "Yes; I saw them, my lad. Want to go fishing--harpooning?" "Yes, sir. Roberts and I." "Oh yes, of course, my lad. A good time for it, and I shall expect a nice dish for the cabin table. But look here, Mr Murray, I like to keep to the little forms of the service, and in cases of this sort you had better ask Mr Anderson for leave. You understand?" "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," said Murray. "No, no; I have not given you permission. Ask Mr Anderson. He will give you leave at once." Murray saluted; the captain marched on; and directly after the two midshipmen were face to face. "Then you have dared--" began Roberts. "Yes, all right," said Murray, laughing to himself, for he noticed that his companion spoke in a low tone of voice so that his words might not be heard by their chief. "Yes, it's all right, only we're to ask Anderson." "Yes, I heard what the skipper said, but I tell you at once I'm not going to stoop to do anything of the kind. Do you think I'm going to degrade myself by begging for leave again?" "No, old chap, of course not," cried Murray, thrusting his arm beneath his companion's. "I'll _do_ all that. But you must come now. Don't let's keep Tom May waiting any longer." "But I tell you that--" "Hush! Hold your tongue. Here's Anderson coming." "Well, young gentlemen," said that officer, coming up sharply, "have you asked the captain?" "Yes, sir, and he said that he would give us leave, but that he should prefer for us to ask your permission." "That's right, my lads; quite right," said the first lieutenant, speaking quite blandly now. "You'd better start at once, for I don't think this calm is going to last. Who is going to help you?" "Tom May, sir." "Oh yes, I see. A very good trustworthy man. Mind, we shall expect some fish for dinner." "He's a humbug, that's what he is," said Roberts angrily. "Blowing hot and cold with the same breath. I've a good mind to--" "Come and have the first try? And so you shall, old chap. Look alive! We must get a good dish now, and for the lads too." "Oh, I don't want to have anything to do with it," grumbled Roberts. But his companion paid no heed to his words, for just then Tom May, who had been watching their proceedings as he waited until the permission had been obtained, stepped out to meet them, armed with the trident-like grains and fine line, looking like a modern Neptune civilised into wearing the easy-looking comfortable garb of a man-o'-war's man, and offered the light lissome staff to Murray. "No, no," cried the lad. "Mr Roberts is going to have the first turn." "I told you I didn't--" began Roberts, with far less emphasis, but Murray interrupted him. "Best from the fore chains, won't it, Tom?" "Yes, sir. Hold on with the left fin and strike with the right." "Yes, of course. Now then, Dick, over with you; and don't go overboard, or I shall have to come after you." "Better let me make a slip-knot for you, sir," said the man, "so as you don't lose your line and the grains at the same time." The midshipman's lips parted for him to make another protest--a very faint one--but before he had spoken a word the sailor threw a running noose over his wrist, and, unable to resist the temptation of playing the part of harpooner of the good-sized fish that were playing in the clear water not far below the surface, he climbed over the bulwark and took his place in the chains outside the blocks which secured the shrouds, gathered the line in loops, and grasped the shaft of the long light implement, which somewhat resembled a delicately made eel spear, and stood ready to plunge it down into the first of the swiftly gliding fish which played about the side. "I say, Dick," cried Murray eagerly, "don't be in too great a hurry. Wait till you get a good chance at a big one." "All right," replied the lad, who at the first touch of the three-pronged spear forgot all his sham resistance and settled himself in an easy position with his left arm round one of the staying ropes, standing well balanced and ready to dart the implement down into one of the great beautifully-marked mackerel-natured fish, which with an easy stroke of its thin tail, shaped like a two-day-old moon, darted along the side, played round the sloop's stem, plunged beneath the keel and appeared again, to repeat its manoeuvres so rapidly that its coming and going resembled flashes of light. "I'll have one directly," said Roberts, after letting two or three chances go by, "and you, Tom, when I spear one and haul him up, you take hold of the fish just forward of his tail, where you can grip him easily." "Close up to his flukes, sir?" said the man, cocking one eye at Murray with a droll look which suggested the saying about instructing your grandmother. "All right, sir; I'll take care." "Yes, you'd better!" said the midshipman, who was now all eagerness. "I'll spear one, Frank, and then you shall take the next turn." "No, no; get a couple first, old chap," replied Murray, "or say three. We don't want to change too often." "Oh, very well, just as you like. Ha!" For a chance had offered itself; one of the bonitos had risen towards the surface and turned sharply preparatory to swimming back to pass round the stem of the _Seafowl_, and Roberts plunged down his spear; but he had not been quick enough. "My word, that was near! Eh, Tom?" cried Murray. "Near as a toucher," grunted the sailor, with his eyes twinkling. "Never mind, Dick; you'll do it next time. Straight down, old chap; but you must allow for the water's refraction." "Oh yes, I know," said the lad coolly, as he gathered in the dripping line in loops once more and again grasped the light ash pole ready for another stroke. As if perfectly satisfied of their safety, a couple more of the bonitos glided along from following the sloop, and the midshipman made as if to throw, but hesitated and let the first fish glide beneath his feet, but darted the spear down at the second, and struck a little too soon, the swift creature apparently seeing the spear coming and with one wave of its tail darting into safety. "Bother!" grunted Roberts. "Third time never fails, sir," growled the sailor. That sailor told a great untruth, for when for the third time Roberts drove the trident he failed dismally, for in his excitement and hurry he took no care to hold the three-pronged fork so that it should strike the fish across the back, so that one or the other tooth should be driven into the flesh, but held it so that the blades were parallel with the fish's side, beside which they glided so that the bonito passed on unharmed. "Oh, hang the thing!" cried the lad. "Well, strike it first," said Murray, laughing. "We'll hang it then if you like." "Do it yourself, then," growled Roberts angrily, hauling up the line and trident, before preparing to loosen the noose from his wrist. "Nonsense!" cried Murray. "Stop where you are, man. You were in such a hurry, and didn't half try." "No, you come and try. You are so much more handy with the grains than I am." He spoke sourly, but his companion's last words had softened him a little. "Stop where you are, man!" sounded pleasant, and he hesitated. "That's right. There, tighten the line again. I want to see you get one of those big ones, and you are not going to be beaten." "But I'm not skilful over it, Frank," said Roberts. "Be skilful, then, my lad. It's just the knack of it, that's all. Get that, and you'll hit one every time. Won't he, Tom?" "Yes, sir. It's just the knack; that's all. Just look down, sir; there's no end of thumpers coming along, and if you wait your time, sir, you're sure to have one." Roberts knit his brows as he gazed down beneath him at the shadow-like fish, which now looked dark, now reflected golden and greenish tints from their burnished sides, and once more prepared to strike; but he hesitated, and the bonito was gone. "Here, you're nervous, Dick," cried Murray. "You're too anxious and want to make too sure. Be sharper and more careless. Just measure the distance as the next one comes along, make sure of him and let drive." Roberts said nothing, but set his teeth hard as he balanced the ash pole in his hand, being careful to hold the spear so that the prongs were level with the horizon, and was in the act of driving the implement down when Murray whispered hoarsely--"Now then!" That interruption proved to be just sufficient to throw the lad off his aim, and once more he missed. "My fault, Dick; my fault, Tom. I put him out," cried Murray excitedly. "Yes, sir, that was it," said the sailor. "He'd have had that one for certain. You try again, Mr Roberts, sir; and don't you say a word to put him out, Mr Murray, sir, and you'll see him drive the grains into one of them biggest ones." "All right, Tom. I'll be dumb as a dumb-bell. Go on, Dick; there are some splendid ones about now." Roberts said nothing, but frowned and set his teeth harder than ever as he stood up now in quite a classic attitude, waiting till one of the finest of the fish below him came gliding along beneath his feet, and then reaching well out he darted the trident down with all his might. The line tightened suddenly, for he had struck the fish, and the next moment, before the lad could recover himself from his position, leaning forward as he was, there was a heavy jar at his wrist, the line tightened with quite a snap, and as the fish darted downward the midshipman was jerked from where he stood, and the next moment plunged head first with a heavy splash into the sea, showing his legs for a brief space, and then, in a shadowy way that emulated the fishes' glide, he went downward into the sunlit depths, leaving his two companions staring aghast at the result of the stroke. _ |
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