The Blood Ship

otherwise, what with the mate's obscene, shrill voice ringing through the ship, and the rattle of blocks, the cries of men, and the t

port crew-who had lifted anchor and taken the Golden Bough to sea-back to San Francisco. And we were fairly to se

ugh. To wait for an order, was, I knew well enough, to wait for a blow. The crowd were already at the lee braces, commencing to trim up the yards, and I tailed onto the line an

s out of the foc'sle, and now he joined with the mate in forcible encouragement of our efforts. The port gang had hoist

ning, such a crowd of sick, suffering, terrified men. Most of them knew not one rope from another, some of them knew not a word of English, half of them were still drunk, and stumbled and fell as they were driven about, the other half were seasick and all but helpless. Oh, they caught it, I tell you! The mates were merciless, as their reputations declared the

e during the morning. He already bore Fitzgibbon's mark in the shape of a raw gash on his forehead, and his blood-specked eyes were hot with mingled rage an

aloft. "He done gib her too much wheel!

fearful glances as I rushed about beneath his arctic glare, now swung about and damned the helmsman's eye with soft voiced

the days that came after. It was like a book page before my eyes, revealing the dif

lagged. But they did not rasp your soul. You knew there was no personal application to them. They were the oaths of a bluff, hard man who wou

sentment; the same words that came clean from Lynch's lips, sounded vile from Fitzgibbon, because the man, himsel

odious from his lips, but they were forked with poison and viciousness. As we of the foc'sle listened to him curse the helmsman, that first morning out, each man felt fea

he main fife rail. "What's this, Misters?" he sang out. "Going asleep on the job? Rush those dogs-rus

e man nearest him, and commenced to curse us in a steady stream. Lynch reached out and dragged me aw

ed man was watching my progress. Nineteen-year-old man I might be, able seaman and hard case, but I'll admit I

e might be after facing the Old Man's tirade, and when I took the spokes from his nerveless grasp he had not sufficient wit left to give me the cour

rd. Through his beard I could see the tip of his tongue rimming his lips, as he contemplated the frightened boy, much like a cat contemplating a choi

devil, ran beside him, showering blows upon his unprotected head, and as they reached the break of the poop he knocked the boy down. Then he gave him the boots, commenced to kick him heavily about the body, while the boy squirmed, and pleaded in agonized, broken English for mercy. It was a brutal, revolting exh

-toned evil curses that slid from his lips. He leaned over the bruised, insensible form, grasped the clothes, and heaved the boy clear off the poop, much as one m

ause of the work he had just done; he was a man who found pleasure in inflicting pain upon others! He paused at my side, glanced sharply at me, then aloft at the highest weather leech, for I was steering full and by. But he found no cause for offense, and af

and mustache covered half of it, and there was a peculiar and disturbing glitter in his black eyes. Some of my fear was caused, I think, by the sinister softness of his voice. But most of it was caused by the impression the man, himself, gave-call it personality, if you like. It was much like the impression of utter recklessness that Newma

t, Shreve!" I thought. "This packet is so hot she sizzles, and this Old Man is a bad egg, and no fa

I had not shown myself such a hard case back there in the Swede's. I cursed myself for the vainglorious fool I was for having put myself in such a hole. The only rift in my cloud of gloom was Lynch; the second mate seemed favorably dis

streak, and cleared out? No. My grim, reserved companion of the night before had had some strong, secret purpose in joining the

hearing. "We have them all hustling except two," he told Swope. "One jasper the Swede dosed with his black bottle, and another one

hand shy?" exclaim

e ship themselves. There's one of them at the wheel. But the other one, the big one, was gone this morning. Best

is the fellow who came on b

ied. "He had disappeared wh

r neck for you!" He stood silent a moment, opening and shutting his fingers, just

ut for'ard for hi

t on board," the s

to know. "If the swab is gone, he's gone. Drive th

g of the poop, while

ed by the ending of the

n would blame me for Ne

ate fresh in my mind

Swope's

ver, I was sorry to see the last of him. I wondered why he had not stayed. It w

I slept? What was he-a discarded lover? Was she the lass in the beggarman's yarn? Had he shipped so he might worship his beloved from the lowly foc'sle? Or was he seeking vengeance

ared. Was she really an incarnate Mercy in this floating hell? Did she really go forward and bind up the men's hu

tion was harsh, bruising oaths, felt the feminine accents as a healing salve. They stirred forgotten memories; they sent my mind leaping backwards over the hard years to my childhood, and the sound of my mother's voice.

arsh voices forward, came aft and stood near the wheel. And at the first glance, I knew that foc'sle re

ness of her figure, or the mere physical beauty of her features that touched the hearts, and made reverent the v

donna, and the master who had painted it had given the Mother's face an expression of brooding tenderness as deep as the sea, an expression of

ous cruelty in a man's world, and that she understood, and forgave. You felt her soul had passed through a fierce, white heat of pain, and had emerged burned clean of dross, free of all petty rancor or hatred. It glowed

pon me, as I stood there at the wheel, and the red blood flushed my cheeks, while the mask of cynical hardness I had striven so hard to cultivate fled from my face. She saw through my pretence, did the lady, she saw me as I really was,

she said, in a surprised voice. Then her face seemed to diffuse a sweet sympathy and understanding. I can't explain it, but I knew that the lady knew just why I had shipped. She looked inside of me, and read my heart-and

an eyelash had he shown himself aware of her presence. Now he suddenly paused nearby. Perhaps his sailor's sense of fitness was ruffled by the sight of her in conversatio

ring voice. "Well, from all signs for'ard, you had better overhaul your medic

ted, as though with pain. Just for an instant-then she was serenity again, and

way forward, by the foc'sle door, Mister Lynch was engaged in dressing down the Cockney. This was not a particularly interesting exhib

o, Lynch declared, was neither sailor, nor bum. There on the poop, we could not overhear the small man's words for Mister Fitz's shrill cursing, but he seemed to be expostulating with the mate. And he seemed intent on forcing past the mate and coming aft. He

arded them, and her slight figure seemed to droop a bit. Then, with a queer little shrug, she squared her shoulders, and faced the Captain with up-tilted chin. . . . Aye, and I sensed the meaning of that little shrug, and the squared shoulders. It meant t

t the man much as one looks at some loathsome yet inevitable object-a snake, or a toad. And she turned away without further words, and descended to the cabin. S