The Cruise of the Midge. Michael Scott

by this vile fever? Safe us, it's a' into lumps like aitmeal in brose, and noo the lumps have hardened into a consistence like flint—losh! how they rattle in my skull like chucky stanes in a wean's rash-basket!" Another shake of his head. "Ech, the very fire-sparks are fleeing from my ee. I wonder if they can be hardened ideas; at ony rate they have struck fire frae ilk ither. Do ye ken I could write poetry the noo—I'll be up and overboard, if you dinna haud me—I'll be up and overboard."

      Discreet even in his madness, he had given warning and time for the hint to be taken by his mess-mates, and he was now forcibly held down.

      As he lay back he continued to murmur, "Oh, puir Saunders Skelp, puir Saunders Skelp, that ye should hae gotten yer death-blow frae a bloody wee heathen god, and you the son of a minister's man—a godly bairn of the Reformation!" Then lifting his head, as if his own exclamation had startled him, "Saunders Skelp—wha ca's on Saunders Skelp—there is nae Saunders Skelp here, I trow? As for you, ye wee blackened deevil," (me, Benjie Brail, viz.) "Oh, man, if I had gotten the educating o' ye, my taws wad hae driven mair lair intil ye at the but-end, than ten Southern maisters wha appeal till the head."

      Our attention was here diverted by the hail of the look-out on deck.

      "Boat, ahoy!" A pause. "Coming here?" Still no answer.

      I scrambled up the ladder, by this time replaced, accompanied by Mr. Sprawl and Lanyard, who, during my idle palaver with the Scotch corporal, had made an overhaul of all the poor fellows, and seen every one's wants attended to. When we came on deck, we found a cluster of people at the aftermost part of the felucca. The moment we advanced, little Binnacle said, "Some one has twice hailed us from the water astern, sir, but we can make nothing of it. We hear the voice, but we cannot see the man who shouts, sir."

      Both Davie Doublepipe and myself strained our eyes to catch the object; for although it was a bright moonlight overhead, yet astern of us the thick mist that had rolled down the river, and still hovered in that direction, concealed everything under its watery veil.

      Presently we heard the splash of a paddle, and a voice shouted out, "Oh, dis current, dis current! I never sall be able to stem him. Send a boat to pick me up; do—send a boat, massa."

      This was one thing we begged to decline doing.

      "My man, whoever you may be, you must shove ahead, and get alongside yourself, for no boat shall be sent to you until we make you out," sung out old Dick.

      Here we could hear the creature, whatever it was, puff and blow, and the splashing of the paddle became louder, while every now and then it gave a thump with its open palm on the side of the canoe, or whatever it might be it was in. At length a small dory, as it is called in the West Indies, a tiny sort of canoe, shot out of the fog, with a dark figure paddling with all his might in the stern, while a slighter one was sitting in the bow. He was soon alongside, and who should scramble on board but our friend the resetter. He took no notice of any of us, but, turning round, stooped down over the side, and said something in an African dialect, that I could not understand, to the figure in the boat, who immediately handed up what appeared to me to be a log of wood, which he put away carefully beside the long-gun. He then called out again to the party remaining in the canoe to come on deck, when a handsome young Eboe woman stepped on board.

      "Now, captain," said our free-and-easy friend—"now, captain, will you hab de goodness to hoist in my dory?"

      "And for what should I do that same?" said the fourth lieutenant, a little taken aback by the fellow's cool impudence. "Little reason why I should not knock you overboard, my darling, after the transactions of this morning."

      "Transaction, captain? O, massa, I don't know him; but dis I knows, if you hab got into one scrape dis day, you desarve it—ah, very mosh."

      A momentary feeling of irritation shot across Lanyard, but the absurdity of the whole affair instantly quelled it, and, in spite of himself, he could not help laughing.

      "Well, well, Clinker, take care of this man, and the woman who is with him, will ye? and tell Jerry to get supper in the cabin."

      The lieutenants and I resumed our walk on the confined deck of the little vessel for a quarter of an hour, when the steward came and announced that supper was ready. We went below, where our comforts in a small way had been excellently well attended to; the lamp was burning cheerily, the small table was covered with an immaculate table-cloth, although none of the finest; and two well-filled decanters of Teneriffe sparkled on the board, while a beautiful junk of cold salt beef, and a dish of taties in their skins, with the steam smoking up through the cracks in them, and a large case-bottle of capital old Jamaica, gave assurance of a small streak of comfort after the disasters and fatigues of the day.

      Speaking of potatoes, stop till I immortalize my old mother's receipt. "To dress a potato—wash it well, but no scraping; at the thickest end cut off a piece"—(I beg the dear old woman's pardon—pace)—"cut off a piece the size of a sixpence. This is the safety-valve through which the steam escapes, and all rents in the skin are thereby prevented—just as the aforesaid valve prevents a rupture in the steam-boiler; and if you do this carefully, oh for the mealiness (maliness) thereof!"

      Lanyard had asked old Pumpbolt the master, little Binnacle his only mid, the youngster who had behaved so gallantly at the start, to sup with him; along with Mr. Marline, one of the master's mates of the Gazelle; and young De Walden, another reefer of the dear old barky, a most beautiful, tall, handsome, although slightly framed, boy. So far as I can judge, the youngster stood about five feet ten. He might have been more. He had his shoes on, but no stockings—very wide trowsers—no waistcoat nor jacket, but a broad white-and-blue striped shirt, folded very far back at the throat, and no neckcloth. He wore an enormously broad-brimmed straw hat, with a black ribbon round it, in rather a natty bow on the left side, while his loins were still girt with his by no means maiden sword. As I was diving into the cabin through the small companion, he came up to me—"Do you know, sir, that I cannot sup with Mr. Lanyard to-night? I wish you would ask him to excuse me, sir"—

      "Indeed, Master de Walden," said I, "I cannot; you must come; I am sure a glass of wine will do you good."

      "I know, sir, I know, and am very much obliged to you; but—but I have no clothes, sir. I wet my jacket this morning in weighing the stream-anchor, and my only other one is so covered with mud, that really I am unable decently to appear in it."

      "Poo, never mind, boy; come down in any way you choose."

      We adjourned to the cabin. Old David, as pleasant a fellow as ever stepped, notwithstanding his peculiarities; Dick Lanyard, a darling in his way; Pumpbolt and myself sat down at one side of the table, having first deliberately taken our coats off. We were confronted by little Binnacle, and the other midshipmen, who came down immediately after. Young de Walden sat in his trowsers and shirt, with his black silk cravat tied only once round his neck, and a red silk handkerchief round his waist. The dress set off the handsome young fellow's figure to great advantage, the fineness of his waist giving a splendid relief to the spread of his shoulders, while his beautifully moulded neck, white as the driven snow, contrasted strikingly with his noble but sun-burnt countenance; while his hair curled in short black ringlets far back on his large marble forehead.

      The salt junk was placed on the table, and we all began our operations with great zeal; the biscuit vanished in bushelsful—the boys were happy as princes, the smallest, little Binnacle, becoming talkative from the comfortable meal, and the exhilarating effects of a stiffish glass of grog, when who should walk into the cabin but Sergeant Quacco himself? He had diversified his loveliness after a most remarkable manner; first, he was naked as the day his mother bore him, all to his waistcloth of red serge. He had sandals of coarse untanned leather on his feet, a cross belt of black leather slung over his right shoulder, which supported a bayonet without a sheath, and into which the rust had eaten—the whole affair being much honeycombed—while his broad chest and brawny arms were tatooed in gunpowder or indigo, with the most fantastic shapes. On his head he wore an old military shacko, the brass ornaments cruelly tarnished, and carried a long wand of wild cane in his hand, of the thickness of my thumb, and about ten feet high, the top of which kept rasp,