Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas. Louis Becke
his side, and at intervals thrusting his great splay foot into the nose of Julia, the ship's pig, which, not satisfied with the peelings he threw her, kept trying to make a rush past through the narrow gangway, and get at the contents of the bucket.
Just before seven bells, the mate, who did such navigating work as was required, put his head up out of the companion, sextant in hand, and then laying the instrument down on the skylight, turned to the skipper.
'He says he feels bully this morning, and wants to come on deck.'
The little squat skipper nodded, hurried below, and in a few minutes reappeared with a bundle of rugs and rather dirty pillows, which he at once proceeded to arrange between the up-ended flaps of the skylight, then he hailed the black gentleman potato-peeler.
'Steward' (the term cook was never used by the worthy old captain), 'come aft here and lend a hand.'
'Ay, ay, sah,' replied the negro, in his rich, 'fruity' voice, 'I'se comin', sah;' and with a final and staggering kick with the ball of his foot on Julia's fat side, he put the bucket inside the galley, slid the door to, and followed the captain below, whilst the mate, a young, dark-faced, and grave-looking man, swiftly passed his sun-tanned hand over the couch made by the skipper, to see that there were no inequalities or discomforting lumps in the thick layer of rugs.
And then, curly wool and sooty black face first, and white head and red face beneath, up comes Tom Wallis, borne between them into life and sunshine again; but not the same Tom as he was ten days before-only an apology for him-with a shaven head, and an old, wan, and shrunken face, with black circles under the eyes, a bandaged foot, and left hand in a sling.
'Gently, there now, steward, gently does it. Hallo! youngster, you're laughing, are you? Right glad am I to see it, my lad. Steady now, steward, lower him away easy… There! how's that, son?'
'Thank you, sir,' said Tom, as the two men laid him down upon the rugs. 'Oh, how lovely it is to see the sky again! Where are we now, sir?'
'Thirty mile or thereabout nor'-east o' Sandy Cape. How's the foot?'
'Much better, sir, thank you; but I think I might have the things off my hand now. I can move all my fingers quite easily.'
Hawkins turned to the mate. 'What do you think, Mr. Collier?'
The grave-faced young mate nodded, sat down beside the lad on the edge of the skylight, and taking Tom's hand out of the sling, began to unwind the bandages from his fingers, which he examined critically, and, pressing them carefully, asked the lad if he felt much pain.
'No, sir,' said Tom, lying manfully, as he looked into the officer's eyes-so calm, patient, and quiet, like those of his own father-'not much.'
'Then we'll have these off,' said Collier, as with a kindly smile he unfastened the bandages; 'but you won't be able to use that foot for another week or two.'
'I don't know how I managed to cut it,' said Tom, as he lay back with a sigh of relief, and watched the brig's royalmasts make a sweeping arc through the air as she rolled from side to side. 'I put on my boots when I came to the rocks beyond Misty Head.'
Captain Hawkins laughed. 'You was non compos mentis of the first class and stark naked in a state of noodity, and when we saw you spread-eagled as it were on the beach, and put ashore to see whether you were dead or alive we couldn't see a stitch of clothing anywhere, could we, William Henry?'
The Maori helmsman nodded his head affirmatively, and then, as eight bells were struck, and he was relieved at the wheel, he came and stood beside the master and mate, and a pleased expression came into his somewhat set and heavy features when Tom put out his hand to him.
'It was you who saw me first, and saved my life, wasn't it?' he said; and then with boyish awkwardness-'I am very much obliged to you, Mr. William Henry.'
The big half-caste took Tom's hand in his own for a moment, and shuffling his bare feet, muttered in an apologetic tone that 'it didn't matter much,' as he 'couldn't help a-seeing' him lying on the beach. Then he stood for'ard.
'Do you know who he is, young fellow?' said the skipper, impressively, to Tom, as soon as the big man was out of hearing.
Tom shook his head.
'That's Bill Chester, William Henry Chester is his full name he's the feller that won the heavy-weight championship in Sydney two years ago didn't you never hear of him?'
Tom again shook his head.
'Well you know him now and it'll be something for you to look back on when you comes to my age to say you've shook hands with a man like him. Why he's a man as could be ridin' in his own carriage and a hobnobbin' with dukes and duchesses in London if he'd a mind to; but no he ain't one of that sort a more modester man I never saw in my life. Why he stood his trial for killin' a water policeman once and only got twelve months for it the evidence showin' he only acted in self-defence being set upon by six of them Sydney water police every one of 'em being a bad lot and dangerous characters as I know; and the judge saying that he only stiffened the other man under serious provocation and a lenient sentence would meet the requirements of the case; seventeen pound ten me and some other men give the widow who said that she wished it had happened long before and saved her misery he being a man who when he wasn't ill-usin' sailor men was a-bootin' and beltin' his wife eleven years married to him although he was in the Government service I'll tell you the whole yarn some day and… Now then where are you steerin' to? I don't want you a cockin' your ears to hear what I'm sayin'. Mind your steerin' you swab an' no eaves-droppin' or you'll get a lift under your donkey's lug.'
The man who had relieved 'William Henry'-a little, placid-faced old creature, who had sailed with Hawkins ever since that irascible person had bought the Lady Alicia when she was lying in Port Phillip, deserted by her crew, twenty years before, said, 'Ay, ay, sir,' and glued his eyes to the compass-although he had no more intention of listening to the skipper's remarks than he had of leading a mutiny and turning the brig into a pirate. He had been threatened with fearful physical damage so often during his score of years' service with the boisterous old captain, that had it been actually administered he would have died in a fit of astonishment, for 'old Sam' had never been known to strike one of his hands in his life, although he was by no means averse, as mentioned above, to displaying his pugilistic qualifications on shore, if any one had the temerity to make derogatory remarks about his wonderful old brig.
Swelling with importance, the old man, after glaring at the man at the wheel for a moment or two, turned to the mate-
'Mr. Collier this young person being an infant in the eyes of the law and this ship being on Government service and to-day being his convalescency as it were I shall require you to verify any or whatsoever statements as shall appear to be written in the log of this ship. I know my duty sir and I hereby notify you that I rely on you to assist and expiate me in every manner;' and the fussy little man waddled down the companion way with a kindly nod at Tom.
Tom began to laugh. 'He talks something like old Foster, Mr. Collier-the old man I was telling you about.'
The mate smiled. 'He's a good old fellow, my lad, good, and honest, and true; and now that he is out of hearing, I may tell you that, ever since you were brought on board he has studied your comfort, and has never ceased talking about you. Three days ago, when you were able to talk, and tell us how you came to be where we found you, he was so distressed that he told me that he was more than half inclined to turn the brig round and head for Sydney, so that you might be enabled from there to return to your father.'
Tom's eyes filled at once. 'My poor father! He will never expect to see me again;' and then, as his thoughts turned to home and all that was dear to him, he placed his hands over his face, and his tears flowed freely.
The officer laid his hand on his shoulder. 'Try and think of the joy that will be his when he sees you again, Tom. And, above all, my dear boy, try and think of the mercy of Him who has spared you. Try and think of Him and His goodness and-'
He rose to his feet, and strode to and fro on the poop, his dark, handsome features aglow with excitement. Then he stopped, and called out sharply to a couple of hands to loose the fore and main royals, for the wind was now lessening and the sea going down.
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