Bloody Bill - Dark surmises - A strange sail, and a strange crew, and a still stranger cargo - New reasons for favouring missionaries - A murderous massacre, and thoughts thereon.
THREE weeks after the conversation narrated in the last chapter, Iwas standing on the quarter-deck of the schooner watching the gambols of a shoal of porpoises that swam round us.It was a dead calm.One of those still, hot, sweltering days, so common in the Pacific, when Nature seems to have gone to sleep, and the only thing in water or in air that proves her still alive, is her long, deep breathing, in the swell of the mighty sea.No cloud floated in the deep blue above; no ripple broke the reflected blue below.
The sun shone fiercely in the sky, and a ball of fire blazed, with almost equal power, from out the bosom of the water.So intensely still was it, and so perfectly transparent was the surface of the deep, that had it not been for the long swell already alluded to, we might have believed the surrounding universe to be a huge blue liquid ball, and our little ship the one solitary material speck in all creation, floating in the midst of it.
No sound broke on our ears save the soft puff now and then of a porpoise, the slow creak of the masts, as we swayed gently on the swell, the patter of the reef-points, and the occasional flap of the hanging sails.An awning covered the fore and after parts of the schooner, under which the men composing the watch on deck lolled in sleepy indolence, overcome with excessive heat.Bloody Bill, as the men invariably called him, was standing at the tiller, but his post for the present was a sinecure, and he whiled away the time by alternately gazing in dreamy abstraction at the compass in the binnacle, and by walking to the taffrail in order to spit into the sea.In one of these turns he came near to where I was standing, and, leaning over the side, looked long and earnestly down into the blue wave.
This man, although he was always taciturn and often surly, was the only human being on board with whom I had the slightest desire to become better acquainted.The other men, seeing that I did not relish their company, and knowing that I was a protege of the captain, treated me with total indifference.Bloody Bill, it is true, did the same; but as this was his conduct towards every one else, it was not peculiar in reference to me.Once or twice Itried to draw him into conversation, but he always turned away after a few cold monosyllables.As he now leaned over the taffrail close beside me, I said to him, -"Bill, why is it that you are so gloomy? Why do you never speak to any one?"Bill smiled slightly as he replied, "Why, I s'pose it's because Ihaint got nothin' to say!"
"That's strange," said I, musingly; "you look like a man that could think, and such men can usually speak.""So they can, youngster," rejoined Bill, somewhat sternly; "and Icould speak too if I had a mind to, but what's the use o' speakin'
here! The men only open their mouths to curse and swear, an' they seem to find it entertaining; but I don't, so I hold my tongue.""Well, Bill, that's true, and I would rather not hear you speak at all than hear you speak like the other men; but I don't swear, Bill, so you might talk to me sometimes, I think.Besides, I'm weary of spending day after day in this way, without a single soul to say a pleasant word to.I've been used to friendly conversation, Bill, and I really would take it kind if you would talk with me a little now and then."Bill looked at me in surprise, and I thought I observed a sad expression pass across his sun-burnt face.
"An' where have you been used to friendly conversation," said Bill, looking down again into the sea; "not on that Coral Island, I take it?""Yes, indeed," said I energetically; "I have spent many of the happiest months in my life on that Coral Island;" and without waiting to be further questioned, I launched out into a glowing account of the happy life that Jack and Peterkin and I had spent together, and related minutely every circumstance that befell us while on the island.
"Boy, boy," said Bill, in a voice so deep that it startled me, "this is no place for you.""That's true," said I; "I'm of little use on board, and I don't like my comrades; but I can't help it, and at anyrate I hope to be free again soon.""Free?" said Bill, looking at me in surprise.
"Yes, free," returned I; "the captain said he would put me ashore after this trip was over.""THIS TRIP! Hark'ee, boy," said Bill, lowering his voice, "what said the captain to you the day you came aboard?""He said that he was a trader in sandal-wood and no pirate, and told me that if I would join him for this trip he would give me a good share of the profits or put me on shore in some civilized island if I chose."Bill's brows lowered savagely as he muttered, "Ay, he said truth when he told you he was a sandal-wood trader, but he lied when - ""Sail ho!" shouted the look-out at the masthead.
"Where, away?" cried Bill, springing to the tiller; while the men, startled by the sudden cry jumped up and gazed round the horizon.
"On the starboard quarter, hull down, sir," answered the look-out.
At this moment the captain came on deck, and mounting into the rigging, surveyed the sail through the glass.Then sweeping his eye round the horizon he gazed steadily at a particular point.
"Take in top-sails," shouted the captain, swinging himself down on the deck by the main-back stay.
"Take in top-sails," roared the first mate.
"Ay, ay, sir-r-r," answered the men as they sprang into the rigging and went aloft like cats.
