"MayGoddamnyoursoultohell,WolfLarsen,onlyhell’stoogoodforyou,youcoward,youmurderer,youpig!"washisopeningsalutation。
Iwasthunderstruck。Ilookedforhisinstantannihilation。ButitwasnotWolfLarsen’swhimtoannihilatehim。Hesaunteredslowlyforwardtothebreakofthepoop,and,leaninghiselbowonthecornerofthecabin,gazeddownthoughtfullyandcuriouslyattheexcitedboy。
AndtheboyindictedWolfLarsenashehadneverbeenindictedbefore。
Thesailorsassembledinafearfulgroupjustoutsidetheforecastlescuttleandwatchedandlistened。Thehunterspiledpell—melloutofthesteerage,butasLeach’stiradecontinuedIsawthattherewasnolevityintheirfaces。Eventheywerefrightened,notattheboy’sterriblewords,butathisterribleaudacity。ItdidnotseempossiblethatanylivingcreaturecouldthusbeardWolfLarseninhisteeth。IknowformyselfthatIwasshockedintoadmirationoftheboy,andIsawinhimthesplendidinvinciblenessofimmortalityrisingabovethefleshandthefearsoftheflesh,asintheprophetsofold,tocondemnunrighteousness。
Andsuchcondemnation!HehaledforthWolfLarsen’ssoulnakedtothescornofmen。HeraineduponitcursesfromGodandHighHeaven,andwithereditwithaheatofinvectivethatsavoredofamediaevalexcommunicationoftheCatholicChurch。Heranthegamutofdenunciation,risingtoheightsofwraththatweresublimeandalmostGodlike,andfromsheerexhaustionsinkingtothevilestandmostindecentabuse。
Hisragewasamadness。Hislipswerefleckedwithasoapyfroth,andsometimeshechokedandgurgledandbecameinarticulate。Andthroughitall,calmandimpassive,leaningonhiselbowandgazingdown,WolfLarsenseemedlostinagreatcuriosity。Thiswildstirringofyeastylife,thisterrificrevoltanddefianceofmatterthatmoved,perplexedandinterestedhim。
EachmomentIlooked,andeverybodylooked,forhimtoleapupontheboyanddestroyhim。Butitwasnothiswhim。Hiscigarwentout,andhecontinuedtogazesilentlyandcuriously。
Leachhadworkedhimselfintoanecstasyofimpotentrage。
"Pig!Pig!Pig!"hewasreiteratingatthetopofhislungs。"Whydon’tyoucomedownandkillme,youmurderer?Youcandoit!ain’tafraid!There’snoonetostopyou!Damnsightbetterdeadandoutayourreachthanaliveandinyourclutches!Comeon,youcoward!Killme!Killme!Killme!"
ItwasatthisstagethatThomasMugridge’serraticsoulbroughthimintothescene。Hehadbeenlisteningatthegalleydoor,buthenowcameout,ostensiblytoflingsomescrapsovertheside,butobviouslytoseethekillinghewascertainwouldtakeplace。HesmirkedgreasilyupintothefaceofWolfLarsen,whoseemednottoseehim。ButtheCockneywasunabashed,thoughmad,starkmad。HeturnedtoLeach,saying:
"Suchlangwidge!Shockin’!"
Leach’sragewasnolongerimpotent。Hereatlastwassomethingreadytohand。AndforthefirsttimesincethestabbingtheCockneyhadappearedoutsidethegalleywithouthisknife。ThewordshadbarelylefthismouthwhenhewasknockeddownbyLeach。Threetimeshestruggledtohisfeet,strivingtogainthegalley,andeachtimewasknockeddown。
"Oh,Lord!"hecried。"’Elp!’Elp!Tyke’imaw’y,carn’tyer?Tyke’imaw’y!"
Thehunterslaughedfromsheerrelief。Tragedyhaddwindled,thefarcehadbegun。Thesailorsnowcrowdedboldlyaft,grinningandshuffling,towatchthepummellingofthehatedCockney。AndevenIfeltagreatjoysurgeupwithinme。IconfessthatIdelightedinthisbeatingLeachwasgivingtoThomasMugridge,thoughitwasasterrible,almost,astheoneMugridgehadcausedtobegiventoJohnson。ButtheexpressionofWolfLarsen’sfaceneverchanged。Hedidnotchangehispositioneither,butcontinuedtogazedownwithagreatcuriosity。Forallhispragmaticcertitude,itseemedasifhewatchedtheplayandmovementoflifeinthehopeofdiscoveringsomethingmoreaboutit,ofdiscerninginitsmaddestwrithingsasomethingwhichhadhithertoescapedhim,——thekeytoitsmystery,asitwere,whichwouldmakeallclearandplain。
Butthebeating!ItwasquitesimilartotheoneIhadwitnessedinthecabin。TheCockneystroveinvaintoprotecthimselffromtheinfuriatedboy。Andinvainhestrovetogaintheshelterofthecabin。Herolledtowardit,grovelledtowardit,felltowarditwhenhewasknockeddown。
Butblowfollowedblowwithbewilderingrapidity。Hewasknockedaboutlikeashuttlecock,until,finally,likeJohnson,hewasbeatenandkickedashelayhelplessonthedeck。Andnooneinterfered。Leachcouldhavekilledhim,but,havingevidentlyfilledthemeasureofhisvengeance,hedrewawayfromhisprostratefoe,whowaswhimperingandwailinginapuppyishsortofway,andwalkedforward。
Butthesetwoaffairswereonlytheopeningeventsoftheday’sprogramme。
IntheafternoonSmokeandHendersonfellfoulofeachother,andafusilladeofshotscameupfromthesteerage,followedbyastampedeoftheotherfourhuntersforthedeck。Acolumnofthick,acridsmoke——thekindalwaysmadebyblackpowder——wasarisingthroughtheopencompanionway,anddownthroughitleapedWolfLarsen。Thesoundofblowsandscufflingcametoourears。Bothmenwerewounded,andhewasthrashingthembothforhavingdisobeyedhisordersandcrippledthemselvesinadvanceofthehuntingseason。Infact,theywerebadlywounded,and,havingthrashedthem,heproceededtooperateupontheminaroughsurgicalfashionandtodresstheirwounds。servedasassistantwhileheprobedandcleansedthepassagesmadebythebullets,andIsawthetwomenendurehiscrudesurgerywithoutanaestheticsandwithnomoretoupholdthemthanastifftumblerofwhiskey。
Then,inthefirstdog—watch,troublecametoaheadintheforecastle。
Ittookitsriseoutofthetittle—tattleandtale—bearingwhichhadbeenthecauseofJohnson’sbeating,andfromthenoiseweheard,andfromthesightofthebruisedmennextday,itwaspatentthathalftheforecastlehadsoundlydrubbedtheotherhalf。
Theseconddog—watchandthedaywerewoundupbyafightbetweenJohansenandthelean,Yankee—lookinghunter,Latimer。ItwascausedbyremarksofLatimer’sconcerningthenoisesmadebythemateinhissleep,andthoughJohansenwaswhipped,hekeptthesteerageawakefortherestofthenightwhileheblissfullyslumberedandfoughtthefightoverandoveragain。TheSeaWolf:Chapter13CHAPTER13
ForthreedaysIdidmyownworkandThomasMugridge’stoo;andIflattermyselfthatIdidhisworkwell。IknowthatitwonWolfLarsen’sapproval,whilethesailorsbeamedwithsatisfactionduringthebrieftimemyrgimelasted。
"ThefirstcleanbitesinceIcomeaboard,"Harrisonsaidtomeatthegalleydoor,ashereturnedthedinnerpotsandpansfromtheforecastle。
"SomehowTommy’sgrubalwaystastesofgrease,stalegrease,andIreckonheain’tchangedhisshirtsinceheleft’Frisco。"
"Iknowhehasn’t,"Ianswered。
"AndI’llbethesleepsinit,"Harrisonadded。
"Andyouwon’tlose,"Iagreed。"Thesameshirt,andhehasn’thaditoffonceinallthistime。"
ButthreedayswasallWolfLarsenallowedhiminwhichtorecoverfromtheeffectsofthebeating。Onthefourthday,lameandsore,scarcelyabletosee,soclosedwerehiseyes,hewashaledfromhisbunkbythenapeoftheneckandsettohisduty。Hesniffledandwept,butWolfLarsenwaspitiless。
"Andseethatyouservenomoreslops,"washispartinginjunction。
"Nomoregreaseanddirt,mind,andacleanshirtoccasionally,oryou’llgetatowovertheside。Understand?"
ThomasMugridgecrawledweaklyacrossthegalleyfloor,andashortlurchoftheGhostsenthimstaggering。Inattemptingtorecoverhimself,hereachedfortheironrailingwhichsurroundedthestoveandkeptthepotsfromslidingoff;buthemissedtherailing,andhishand,withhisweightbehindit,landedsquarelyonthehotsurface。Therewasasizzleandodorofburningflesh,andasharpcryofpain。
"Oh,Gawd,Gawd,wot’aveIdone?"hewailed,sittingdowninthecoal—boxandnursinghisnewhurtbyrockingbackandforth。"W’y’asallthiscomeonme?Itmykesmefairsick,itdoes,an’Itryso’ardtogothroughlife’armlessan’’urtin’nobody。"
Thetearswererunningdownhispuffedanddiscoloredcheeks,andhisfacewasdrawnwithpain。Asavageexpressionflittedacrossit。
"Oh,’owI’ate’im!’OwI’ate’im!"hegrittedout。
"Whom?"Iasked;butthepoorwretchwasweepingagainoverhismisfortunes。
Lessdifficultitwastoguesswhomhehatedthanwhomhedidnothate。
ForIhadcometoseeamalignantdevilinhimwhichimpelledhimtohatealltheworld。Isometimesthoughtthathehatedevenhimself,sogrotesquelyhadlifedealtwithhim,andsomonstrously。Atsuchmomentsagreatsympathywelledupwithinme,andIfeltshamethatIhadeverjoyedinhisdiscomfitureorpain。Lifehadbeenunfairtohim。Ithadplayedhimascurvytrickwhenitfashionedhimintothethinghewas,andithadplayedhimscurvytrickseversince。Whatchancehadhetobeanythingelsethanhewas?
Andasthoughansweringmyunspokenthought,hewailed:
"Inever’adnochance,nor’arfachance!’Oowastheretosendmetoschool,orputtommyinmy’ungrybelly,orwipemybloodynoseforme,w’enIwasakiddy?’Ooeverdidanythingforme,heh?’Oo,Is’y?"
"Nevermind,Tommy,"Isaid,placingasoothinghandonhisshoulder。
"Cheerup。It’llallcomerightintheend。You’velongyearsbeforeyou,andyoucanmakeanythingyoupleaseofyourself。"
"It’salie!abloodylie!"heshoutedinmyface,flingingoffthehand。"It’salie,andyouknowit。I’malreadymyde,an’mydeoutofleavin’san’scraps。It’sallrightforyou,’Ump。Youwasbornagentleman。Youneverknewwotitwastogo’ungry,tocryyerselfasleepwithyerlittlebellygnawin’an’gnawin’,likearatinsideyer。Itcarn’tcomeright。
IfIwasPresidentoftheUnitedStytesto—morrer,’owwoulditfillmybellyforonetimew’enIwasakiddyanditwentempty?
"’Owcouldit,Is’y?Iwasborntosufferin’andsorrer。I’ve’admorecruelsufferin’thananytenmen,I’ave。I’vebeeninorspitalarfmybleedin’life。I’ve’adthefeverinAspinwall,in’Avana,inNewOrleans。
IneardiedofthescurvyandwasrottenwithitsixmonthsinBarbadoes。
Smallpoxin’Onolulu,twobrokenlegsinShanghai,pneumoniainUnalaska,threebustedribsan’myinsidesalltwistedin’Frisco。An’’ereIamnow。Lookatme!Lookatme!Myribskickedloosefrommybackagain。I’llbecoughin’bloodbeforeeyghtbells。’Owcanitbemydeuptome,Iarsk?
’Oo’sgoin’todoit?Gawd?’OwGawdmust’ave’atedmew’en’esignedmeonforavoyageinthisbloomin’worldof’is!"
Thistiradeagainstdestinywentonforanhourormore,andthenhebuckledtohiswork,limpingandgroaning,andinhiseyesagreathatredforallcreatedthings。Hisdiagnosiswascorrect,however,forhewasseizedwithoccasionalsicknesses,duringwhichhevomitedbloodandsufferedgreatpain。Andashesaid,itseemedGodhatedhimtoomuchtolethimdie,forheultimatelygrewbetterandwaxedmoremalignantthanever。
SeveraldaysmorepassedbeforeJohnsoncrawledondeckandwentabouthisworkinahalf—heartedway。Hewasstillasickman,andImorethanonceobservedhimcreepingpainfullyalofttoatopsail,ordroopingwearilyashestoodatthewheel。But,stillworse,itseemedthathisspiritwasbroken。HewasabjectbeforeWolfLarsenandalmostgrovelledtoJohansen。
NotsowastheconductofLeach。Hewentaboutthedecklikeatigercub,glaringhishatredopenlyatWolfLarsenandJohansen。
"I’lldoforyouyet,youslab—footedSwede,"IheardhimsaytoJohansenonenightondeck。
Thematecursedhiminthedarkness,andthenextmomentsomemissilestruckthegalleyasharprap。Therewasmorecursing,andamockinglaugh,andwhenallwasquietIstoleoutsideandfoundaheavyknifeimbeddedoveraninchinthesolidwood。Afewminuteslaterthematecamefumblingaboutinsearchofit,butIreturneditprivilytoLeachnextday。HegrinnedwhenIhandeditover,yetitwasagrinthatcontainedmoresincerethanksthanamultitudeoftheverbositiesofspeechcommontothemembersofmyownclass。
Unlikeanyoneelseintheship’scompany,Inowfoundmyselfwithnoquarrelsonmyhandsandinthegoodgracesofall。Thehunterspossiblynomorethantoleratedme,thoughnoneofthemdislikedme;whileSmokeandHenderson,convalescentunderadeckawningandswingingdayandnightintheirhammocks,assuredmethatIwasbetterthananyhospitalnurseandthattheywouldnotforgetmeattheendofthevoyagewhentheywerepaidoff。(AsthoughIstoodinneedoftheirmoney!I,whocouldhaveboughtthemout,bagandbaggage,andtheschooneranditsequipment,ascoreoftimesover!)Butuponmehaddevolvedthetaskoftendingtheirwounds,andpullingthemthrough,andIdidmybestbythem。
WolfLarsenunderwentanotherbadattackofheadachewhichlastedtwodays。Hemusthavesufferedseverely,forhecalledmein,andobeyedmycommandslikeasickchild。ButnothingIcoulddoseemedtorelievehim。
Atmysuggestion,however,hegaveupsmokinganddrinking;thoughwhysuchamagnificentanimalasheshouldhaveheadachesatallpuzzlesme。
"’TisthehandofGod,I’mtellin’you,"isthewayLouisseesit。"’Tisavisitationforhisblack—hearteddeeds,andthere’smorebehindandcomin’,orelse——"
"Orelse,"Iprompted。
"Godisnoddin’andnotdoin’hisduty,thoughit’smeasshouldn’tsayit。"
IwasmistakenwhenIsaidthatIwasinthegoodgracesofall。NotonlydoesThomasMugridgecontinuetohateme,buthehasdiscoveredanewreasonforhatingme。Ittookmenolittlewhiletopuzzleitout,butIfinallydiscoveredthatitwasbecauseIwasmoreluckilybornthanhe——"gentlemanborn,"heputit。
"Andstillnomoredeadmen,"ItwittedLouis,whenSmokeandHenderson,sidebyside,infriendlyconversation,tooktheirfirstexerciseondeck。
Louissurveyedmewithhisshrewdgrayeyesandshookhisheadportentously。
"She’sa—comin’,Itellyou,andit’llbesheetsandhalyards,standbyallhands,whenshebeginstohowl。I’vehadthefeelivitthislongtime,andIcanfeelitnowasplainlyasIfeeltheriggingivadarknight。
She’sclose,she’sclose。"
"Whogoesfirst?"Iqueried。
"NotoldfatLouis,Ipromiseyou,"helaughed。"For’tisinthebonesivmeIknowthatcomethistimenextyearI’llbegazin’intheoldmother’seyes,wearywithwatchin’ivtheseaforthefivesonsshegavetoit。"
"Wot’s’ebeens’yin’toyer?"ThomasMugridgedemandedamomentlater。
"Thathe’sgoinghomesomedaytoseehismother,"Ianswereddiplomatically。
"Inever’adnone,"wastheCockney’scomment,ashegazedwithlustreless,hopelesseyesintomine。TheSeaWolf:Chapter14CHAPTER14
IthasdawneduponmethatIhaveneverplacedapropervaluationuponwomankind。Forthatmatter,thoughnotamativetoanyconsiderabledegreesofarasIhavediscovered,Iwasneveroutsidetheatmosphereofwomenuntilnow。Mymotherandsisterswerealwaysaboutme,andIwasalwaystryingtoescapethem;fortheyworriedmetodistractionwiththeirsolicitudeformyhealthandwiththeirperiodicinroadsonmyden,whenmyorderlyconfusion,uponwhichIpridedmyself,wasturnedintoworseconfusionandlessorder,thoughitlookedneatenoughtotheeye。Inevercouldfindanythingwhentheyhaddeparted。Butnow,alas,howwelcomewouldhavebeenthefeeloftheirpresence,thefrou—frouandswish—swishoftheirskirtswhichIhadsocordiallydetested!Iamsure,ifIevergethome,thatIshallneverbeirritablewiththemagain。Theymaydosemeanddoctormemorning,noon,andnight,anddustandsweepandputmydentorightseveryminuteoftheday,andIshallonlyleanbackandsurveyitallandbethankfulinthatIampossessedofamotherandsomeseveralsisters。
Allofwhichhassetmewondering。WherearethemothersofthesetwentyandoddmenontheGhost?Itstrikesmeasunnaturalandunhealthfulthatmenshouldbetotallyseparatedfromwomenandherdthroughtheworldbythemselves。Coarsenessandsavageryaretheinevitableresults。Thesemenaboutmeshouldhavewives,andsisters,anddaughters;thenwouldtheybecapableofsoftness,andtenderness,andsympathy。Asitis,notoneofthemismarried。Inyearsandyearsnotoneofthemhasbeenincontactwithagoodwoman,orwithintheinfluence,orredemption,whichirresistiblyradiatesfromsuchacreature。Thereisnobalanceintheirlives。Theirmasculinity,whichinitselfisofthebrute,hasbeenoverdeveloped。
Theotherandspiritualsideoftheirnatureshasbeendwarfed——atrophied,infact。
Theyareacompanyofcelibates,grindingharshlyagainstoneanotherandgrowingdailymorecallousedfromthegrinding。Itseemstomeimpossiblesometimesthattheyeverhadmothers。Itwouldappearthattheyareahalf—brute,half—humanspecies,araceapart,whereinthereisnosuchthingassex;
thattheyarehatchedoutbythesunliketurtleeggs,orreceivelifeinsomesimilarandsordidfashion;andthatalltheirdaystheyfesterinbrutalityandviciousnessandintheenddieasunlovelyastheyhavelived。
Renderedcuriousbythisnewdirectionofideas,ItalkedwithJohansenlastnight——thefirstsuperfluouswordswithwhichhehasfavoredmesincethevoyagebegan。HeleftSwedenwhenhewaseighteen,isnowthirty—eight,andinalltheinterveningtimehasnotbeenhomeonce。Hehadmetatownsman,acoupleofyearsbefore,insomesailorboarding—houseinChile,sothatheknewhismothertobestillalive。
"Shemustbeaprettyoldwoman,now,"hesaid,staringmeditativelyintothebinnacleandthenjerkingasharpglanceatHarrison,whowassteeringapointoffthecourse。
"Whendidyoulastwritetoher?"
Heperformedhismentalarithmeticaloud。"Eighty—one;no——eighty—two,eh?no——eighty—three?Yes,eighty—three。Tenyearsago。FromsomelittleportinMadagascar。Iwastrading。
"Yousee,"hewenton,asthoughaddressinghisneglectedmotheracrosshalfthegirthoftheearth,"eachyearIwasgoinghome。Sowhatwasthegoodtowrite?Itwasonlyayear。Andeachyearsomethinghappened,andIdidnotgo。ButIammate,now,andwhenpayoffat’Frisco,maybewithfivehundreddollars,Iwillshipmyselfonawind—jammerroundtheHorntoLiverpool,whichwillgivememoremoney;andthenIwillpaymypassagefromtherehome。Thenshewillnotdoanymorework。"
"Butdoesshework?now?Howoldisshe?"
"Aboutseventy,"heanswered。Andthen,boastingly,"Weworkfromthetimewearebornuntilwedie,inmycountry。That’swhywelivesolong。
Iwilllivetoahundred。"
Ishallneverforgetthisconversation。ThewordswerethelastIeverheardhimutter。Perhapstheywerethelasthedidutter,too。For,goingdownintothecabintoturnin,Idecidedthatitwastoostuffytosleepbelow。Itwasacalmnight。WewereoutoftheTrades,andtheGhostwasforgingaheadbarelyaknotanhour。SoItuckedablanketandpillowundermyarmandwentupondeck。
AsIpassedbetweenHarrisonandthebinnacle,whichwasbuiltintothetopofthecabin,Inoticedthathewasthistimefullythreepointsoff。Thinkingthathewasasleep,andwishinghimtoescapereprimandorworse,Ispoketohim。Buthewasnotasleep。Hiseyeswerewideandstaring。
Heseemedgreatlyperturbed,unabletoreplytome。
"What’sthematter?"Iasked。"Areyousick?"
Heshookhishead,andwithadeepsigh,asofawakening,caughthisbreath。
"You’dbettergetonyourcourse,then,"Ichided。
Heputafewspokesover,andIwatchedthecompass—cardswingslowlytoNNWandsteadyitselfwithslightoscillations。
Itookafreshholdonmybedclothesandwaspreparingtostarton,whensomemovementcaughtmyeyeandIlookedasterntotherail。Asinewyhand,drippingwithwater,wasclutchingtherail。Asecondhandtookforminthedarknessbesideit。Iwatched,fascinated。WhatvisitantfromthegloomofthedeepwasItobehold?Whateveritwas,knewthatitwasclimbingaboardbythelog—line。Isawahead,thehairwetandstraight,shapeitself,andthentheunmistakableeyesandfaceofWolfLarsen。Hisrightcheekwasredwithblood,whichflowedfromsomewoundinthehead。
Hedrewhimselfinboardwithaquickeffort,andarosetohisfeet,glancingswiftly,ashedidso,atthemanatthewheel,asthoughtoassurehimselfofhisidentityandthattherewasnothingtofearfromhim。Thesea—waterwasstreamingfromhim。Itmadelittleaudiblegurgleswhichdistractedme。AshesteppedtowardmeIshrankbackinstinctively,forIsawthatinhiseyeswhichspelleddeath。
"Allright,Hump,"hesaidinalowvoice。"Where’sthemate?"
Ishookmyhead。
"Johansen!"hecalledsoftly。"Johansen!"
"Whereishe?"hedemandedofHarrison。
Theyoungfellowseemedtohaverecoveredhiscomposure,forheansweredsteadilyenough,"Idon’tknow,sir。Isawhimgofor’ardalittlewhileago。"
"SodidIgofor’ard。ButyouwillobservethatIdidn’tcomebackthewayIwent。Canyouexplainit?"
"Youmusthavebeenoverboard,sir。"
"ShallIlookforhiminthesteerage,sir?"Iasked。
WolfLarsenshookhishead。"Youwouldn’tfindhim,Hump。Butyou’lldo。Comeon。Nevermindyourbedding。Leaveitwhereitis。"
Ifollowedathisheels。Therewasnothingstirringamidships。
"Thosecursedhunters,"washiscomment。"Toodamnedfatandlazytostandafour—hourwatch。"
Butontheforecastle—headwefoundthreesailorsasleep。Heturnedthemoverandlookedattheirfaces。Theycomposedthewatchondeck,anditwastheship’scustom,ingoodweather,toletthewatchsleepwiththeexceptionoftheofficer,thehelmsman,andthelook—out。
"Who’slook—out?"hedemanded。
"Me,sir,"answeredHolyoak,oneofthedeep—watersailors,aslighttremorinhisvoice。"Iwinkedoffjustthisveryminute,sir。I’msorry,sir。Itwon’thappenagain。"
"Didyouhearorseeanythingondeck?"
"No,sir,I——"
ButWolfLarsenhadturnedawaywithasnortofdisgust,leavingthesailorrubbinghiseyeswithsurpriseathavingbeenletoffsoeasily。
"Softly,now,"WolfLarsenwarnedmeinawhisper,ashedoubledhisbodyintotheforecastlescuttleandpreparedtodescend。
Ifollowedwithaquakingheart。WhatwastohappenIknewnomorethandidIknowwhathadhappened。Butbloodhadbeenshed,anditwasthroughnowhimofWolfLarsenthathehadgoneoverthesidewithhisscalplaidopen。Besides,Johansenwasmissing。
Itwasmyfirstdescentintotheforecastle,andIshallnotsoonforgetmyimpressionofit,caughtasIstoodonmyfeetatthebottomoftheladder。Builtdirectlyintheeyesoftheschooner,itwasoftheshapeofatriangle,alongthethreesidesofwhichstoodthebunks,indouble—tier,twelveofthem。ItwasnolargerthanahallbedroominGrubStreet,andyettwelvemenwereherdedintoittoeatandsleepandcarryonallthefunctionsofliving。Mybedroomathomewasnotlarge,yetitcouldhavecontainedadozensimilarforecastles,andtakingintoconsiderationtheheightoftheceiling,ascoreatleast。
Itsmelledsourandmusty,andbythedimlightoftheswingingsea—lampIsaweverybitofavailablewall—spacehungdeepwithsea—boots,oilskins,andgarments,cleananddirty,ofvarioussorts。Theseswungbackandforthwitheveryrollofthevessel,givingrisetoabrushingsound,asoftreesagainstarooforwall。Somewhereabootthumpedloudlyandatirregularintervalsagainstthewall;and,thoughitwasamildnightonthesea,therewasacontinualchorusofthecreakingtimbersandbulkheadsandofabysmalnoisesbeneaththeflooring。
Thesleepersdidnotmind。Therewereeightofthem,——thetwowatchesbelow,——andtheairwasthickwiththewarmthandodoroftheirbreathing,andtheearwasfilledwiththenoiseoftheirsnoringandoftheirsighsandhalf—groans,tokensplainoftherestoftheanimal—man。Butweretheysleeping?allofthem?Orhadtheybeensleeping?ThiswasevidentlyWolfLarsen’squest——tofindthemenwhoappearedtobeasleepandwhowerenotasleeporwhohadnotbeenasleepveryrecently。AndhewentaboutitinawaythatremindedmeofastoryoutofBoccaccio。
Hetookthesea—lampfromitsswingingframeandhandedittome。Hebeganatthefirstbunksforwardonthestarboardside。InthetoponelayOofty—Oofty,aKanakaandsplendidseaman,sonamedbyhismates。Hewasasleeponhisbackandbreathingasplacidlyasawoman。Onearmwasunderhishead,theotherlayontopoftheblankets。WolfLarsenputthumbandforefingertothewristandcountedthepulse。InthemidstofittheKanakaroused。Heawokeasgentlyasheslept。Therewasnomovementofthebodywhatever。Theeyes,only,moved。Theyflashedwideopen,bigandblack,andstared,unblinking,intoourfaces。WolfLarsenputhisfingertohislipsasasignforsilence,andtheeyesclosedagain。
第8章