The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 19
CHAPTER IV
THE YELLOW FLAG
The schooner _Farallone_ lay well out in the jaws of the pass, where theterrified pilot had made haste to bring her to her moorings and escape.Seen from the beach through the thin line of shipping, two objects stoodconspicuous to seaward: the little isle, on the one hand, with its palmsand the guns and batteries raised forty years before in defence of QueenPomare's capital; the outcast _Farallone_, upon the other, banished tothe threshold of the port, rolling there to her scuppers, and flauntingthe plague-flag as she rolled. A few sea-birds screamed and cried aboutthe ship; and within easy range, a man-of-war guard-boat hung off and onand glittered with the weapons of marines. The exuberant daylight andthe blinding heaven of the tropics picked out and framed the pictures.
A neat boat, manned by natives in uniform, and steered by the doctor ofthe port, put from shore towards three of the afternoon, and pulledsmartly for the schooner. The fore-sheets were heaped with sacks offlour, onions, and potatoes, perched among which was Huish dressed as aforemast hand; a heap of chests and cases impeded the action of theoarsmen; and in the stern, by the left hand of the doctor, sat Herrick,dressed in a fresh rig of slops, his brown beard trimmed to a point, apile of paper novels on his lap, and nursing the while between his feeta chronometer, for which they had exchanged that of the _Farallone_,long since run down and the rate lost.
They passed the guard-boat, exchanging hails with the boatswain's matein charge, and drew near at last to the forbidden ship. Not a catstirred, there was no speech of man; and the sea being exceeding highoutside, and the reef close to where the schooner lay, the clamour ofthe surf hung round her like the sound of battle.
"_Ohe la goelette!_" sang out the doctor, with his best voice.
Instantly, from the house where they had been stowing away stores, firstDavis, and then the ragamuffin, swarthy crew made their appearance.
"Hullo, Hay, that you?" said the captain, leaning on the rail. "Tell theold man to lay her alongside, as if she was eggs. There's a hell of arun of sea here, and his boat's brittle."
The movement of the schooner was at that time more than usually violent.Now she heaved her side as high as a deep-sea steamer's, and showed theflashing of her copper; now she swung swiftly towards the boat until herscuppers gurgled.
"I hope you have sea-legs," observed the doctor. "You will requirethem."
Indeed, to board the _Farallone_, in that exposed position where shelay, was an affair of some dexterity. The less precious goods werehoisted roughly; the chronometer, after repeated failures, was passedgently and successfully from hand to hand; and there remained only themore difficult business of embarking Huish. Even that piece of deadweight (shipped A.B. at eighteen dollars, and described by the captainto the consul as an invaluable man) was at last hauled on board withoutmishap; and the doctor, with civil salutations, took his leave.
The three co-adventurers looked at each other, and Davis heaved a breathof relief.
"Now let's get this chronometer fixed," said he, and led the way intothe house. It was a fairly spacious place; two state-rooms and agood-sized pantry opened from the main cabin; the bulk-heads werepainted white, the floor laid with waxcloth. No litter, no sign of liferemained; for the effects of the dead men had been disinfected andconveyed on shore. Only on the table, in a saucer, some sulphur burned,and the fumes set them coughing as they entered. The captain peered intothe starboard state-room, where the bed-clothes still lay tumbled in thebunk, the blanket flung back as they had flung it back from thedisfigured corpse before its burial.
"Now, I told these niggers to tumble that truck overboard," grumbledDavis. "Guess they were afraid to lay hands on it. Well, they've hosedthe place out; that's as much as can be expected, I suppose. Huish, layon to these blankets."
"See you blooming well far enough first," said Huish, drawing back.
"What's that?" snapped the captain. "I'll tell you, my young friend, Ithink you make a mistake. I'm captain here."
"Fat lot I care," returned the clerk.
"That so?" said Davis. "Then you'll berth forward with the niggers! Walkright out of this cabin."
"O, I dessay!" said Huish. "See any green in my eye? A lark's a lark."
"Well, now, I'll explain this business, and you'll see, once for all,just precisely how much lark there is to it," said Davis. "I'm captain,and I'm going to be it. One thing of three. First, you take my ordershere as cabin steward, in which case you mess with us. Or, second, yourefuse, and I pack you forward--and you get as quick as the word's said.Or, third and last, I'll signal that man-of-war and send you ashoreunder arrest for mutiny."
"And, of course, I wouldn't blow the gaff? O no!" replied the jeeringHuish.
"And who's to believe you, my son?" inquired the captain. "No, _sir_!There ain't no larking about my captainising. Enough said. Up with theseblankets."
Huish was no fool, he knew when he was beaten; and he was no cowardeither, for he stepped to the bunk, took the infected bed-clothesfairly in his arms, and carried them out of the house without a check ortremor.
"I was waiting for the chance," said Davis to Herrick. "I needn't do thesame with you, because you understand it for yourself."
"Are you going to berth here?" asked Herrick, following the captain intothe state-room, where he began to adjust the chronometer in its place atthe bed-head.
"Not much!" replied he. "I guess I'll berth on deck. I don't know as I'mafraid, but I've no immediate use for confluent small-pox."
"I don't know that I'm afraid either," said Herrick. "But the thought ofthese two men sticks in my throat; that captain and mate dying here, oneopposite to the other. It's grim. I wonder what they said last?"
"Wiseman and Wishart?" said the captain. "Probably mighty smallpotatoes. That's a thing a fellow figures out for himself one way, andthe real business goes quite another. Perhaps Wiseman said, 'Here, oldman, fetch up the gin, I'm feeling powerful rocky.' And perhaps Wishartsaid, 'O, hell!'"
"Well, that's grim enough," said Herrick.
"And so it is," said Davis.--"There; there's that chronometer fixed. Andnow it's about time to up anchor and clear out."
He lit a cigar and stepped on deck.
"Here, you! What's _your_ name?" he cried to one of the hands, alean-flanked, clean-built fellow from some far western island, and of adarkness almost approaching to the African.
"Sally Day," replied the man.
"Devil it is," said the captain, "Didn't know we had ladies onboard.--Well, Sally, oblige me by hauling down that rag there. I'll dothe same for you another time." He watched the yellow bunting as it waseased past the cross-trees and handed down on deck. "You'll float nomore on this ship," he observed. "Muster the people aft, Mr. Hay," headded, speaking unnecessarily loud, "I've a word to say to them."
It was with a singular sensation that Herrick prepared for the firsttime to address a crew. He thanked his stars indeed that they werenatives. But even natives, he reflected, might be critics too quick forsuch a novice as himself; they might perceive some lapse from thatprecise and cut-and-dry English which prevails on board a ship; it waseven possible they understood no other; and he racked his brain, andoverhauled his reminiscences of sea romance, for some appropriate words.
"Here, men! tumble aft!" he said. "Lively now! all hands aft!"
They crowded in the alleyway like sheep.
"Here they are, sir," said Herrick.
For some time the captain continued to face the stern; then turned withferocious suddenness on the crew, and seemed to enjoy their shrinking.
"Now," he said, twisting his cigar in his mouth and toying with thespokes of the wheel. "I'm Captain Brown. I command this ship. This isMr. Hay, first officer. The other white man is cabin steward, but he'llstand watch and do his trick. My orders shall be obeyed smartly. Yousavvy, '_smartly_'? There shall be no growling about the kaikai, whichwill be above allowance. You'll put a handle to the mate's name, andtack on 'sir' to every order I give you. If you're smart a
nd quick, I'llmake this ship comfortable for all hands." He took the cigar out of hismouth. "If you're not," he added, in a roaring voice, "I'll make it afloating hell.--Now, Mr. Hay, we'll pick watches, if you please."
"All right," said Herrick.
"You will please use 'sir' when you address me, Mr. Hay," said thecaptain. "I'll take the lady. Step to starboard, Sally." And then hewhispered in Herrick's ear, "Take the old man."
"I'll take you, there," said Herrick.
"What's your name?" said the captain. "What's that you say? O, that'snot English; I'll have none of your highway gibberish on my ship. We'llcall you old Uncle Ned, because you've got no wool on the top of yourhead, just the place where the wool ought to grow. Step to port, Uncle.Don't you hear Mr. Hay has picked you? Then I'll take the white man.White Man, step to starboard. Now, which of you two is the cook? You?Then Mr. Hay takes your friend in the blue dungaree. Step to port,Dungaree, There, we know who we all are: Dungaree, Uncle Ned, Sally Day,White Man, and Cook. All F.F.V.'s I guess. And now, Mr. Hay, we'll upanchor, if you please."
"For heaven's sake, tell me some of the words," whispered Herrick.
An hour later the _Farallone_ was under all plain sail, the rudder harda-port, and the cheerfully-clanking windlass had brought the anchorhome.
"All clear, sir," cried Herrick from the bow.
The captain met her with the wheel, as she bounded like a stag from herrepose, trembling and bending to the puffs. The guard-boat gave aparting hail, the wake whitened and ran out; the _Farallone_ was underweigh.
Her berth had been close to the pass. Even as she forged ahead Davisslewed her for the channel between the pier-ends of the reef, thebreakers sounding and whitening to either hand. Straight through thenarrow band of blue she shot to seaward; and the captain's heart exultedas he felt her tremble underfoot, and (looking back over the taffrail)beheld the roofs of Papeete changing position on the shore and theisland mountains rearing higher in the wake.
But they were not yet done with the shore and the horror of the yellowflag. About midway of the pass there was a cry and a scurry, a man wasseen to leap upon the rail, and, throwing his arms over his head, tostoop and plunge into the sea.
"Steady as she goes," the captain cried, relinquishing the wheel toHuish.
The next moment he was forward in the midst of the Kanakas, belaying-pinin hand.
"Anybody else for shore?" he cried, and the savage trumpeting of hisvoice, no less than the ready weapon in his hand, struck fear in all.Stupidly they stared after their escaped companion, whose black head wasvisible upon the water, steering for the land. And the schoonermeanwhile slipped like a racer through the pass, and met the long sea ofthe open ocean with a souse of spray.
"Fool that I was, not to have a pistol ready!" exclaimed Davis. "Well,we go to sea short-handed; we can't help that. You have a lame watch ofit, Mr. Hay."
"I don't see how we are to get along," said Herrick.
"Got to," said the captain. "No more Tahiti for me."
Both turned instinctively and looked astern. The fair island wasunfolding mountain-top on mountain-top; Eimeo, on the port board, liftedher splintered pinnacles; and still the schooner raced to the open sea.
"Think!" cried the captain, with a gesture, "yesterday morning I dancedfor my breakfast like a poodle dog."