Wolf Larsen! he snorted a moment later. Listen to the word, will ye! Wolf tis what he is. Hes not black-hearted like some men. Tis no heart he has at all. Wolf, just wolf, tis what he is. Dye wonder hes well named?
But if he is so well-known for what he is, I queried, how is it that he can get men to ship with him?
An how is it ye can get men to do anything on Gods earth an sea? Louis demanded with Celtic fire. How dye find me aboard if twasnt that I was drunk as a pig when I put me name down? Theres them that cant sail with better men, like the hunters, and them that dont know, like the poor devils of wind-jammers forard there. But theyll come to it, theyll come to it, an be sorry the day they was born. I could weep for the poor creatures, did I but forget poor old fat Louis and the troubles before him. But tis not a whisper Ive dropped, mind ye, not a whisper.
Them hunters is the wicked boys, he broke forth again, for he suffered from a constitutional plethora of speech. But wait till they get to cutting up iv jinks and rowin round. Hes the boyll fix em. Tis him thatll put the fear of God in their rotten black hearts. Look at that hunter iv mine, Horner. Jock Horner they call him, so quiet-like an easy-goin, soft-spoken as a girl, till yed think butter wouldnt melt in the mouth iv him[49]. Didnt he kill his boat-steerer last year? Twas called a sad accident, but I met the boat-puller in Yokohama an the straight iv it was given me. An theres Smoke, the black little devil didnt the Roosians have him for three years in the salt mines of Siberia, for poachin on Copper Island, which is a Roosian preserve? Shackled he was, hand an foot, with his mate. An didnt they have words or a ruction of some kind? for twas the other fellow Smoke sent up in the buckets to the top of the mine; an a piece at a time he went up, a leg to-day, an to-morrow an arm, the next day the head, an so on.
But you cant mean it! I cried out, overcome with the horror of it.
Mean what! he demanded, quick as a flash. Tis nothin Ive said. Deef I am, and dumb, as ye should be for the sake iv your mother; an never once have I opened me lips but to say fine things iv them an him, God curse his soul, an may he rot in purgatory ten thousand years, and then go down to the last an deepest hell iv all!
Johnson, the man who had chafed me raw when I first came aboard, seemed the least equivocal of the men forward or aft. In fact, there was nothing equivocal about him. One was struck at once by his straightforwardness and manliness, which, in turn, were tempered by a modesty which might be mistaken for timidity. But timid he was not. He seemed, rather, to have the courage of his convictions, the certainty of his manhood. It was this that made him protest, at the commencement of our acquaintance, against being called Yonson. And upon this, and him, Louis passed judgment and prophecy.
Tis a fine chap, that squarehead Johnson weve forard with us, he said. The best sailorman in the focsle. Hes my boat-puller. But its to trouble hell come with Wolf Larsen, as the sparks fly upward[50]. Its meself that knows. I can see it brewin an comin up like a storm in the sky. Ive talked to him like a brother, but its little he sees in takin in his lights or flyin false signals. He grumbles out when things dont go to suit him, and therell be always some tell-tale carryin word iv it aft to the Wolf. The Wolf is strong, and its the way of a wolf to hate strength, an strength it is hell see in Johnson no knucklin under, and a Yes, sir, thank ye kindly, sir, for a curse or a blow. Oh, shes a-comin! Shes a-comin! An God knows where Ill get another boat-puller! What does the fool up an say, when the old man calls him Yonson, but Me name is Johnson, sir, an then spells it out, letter for letter. Ye should iv seen the old mans face! I thought hed let drive at him on the spot.[51] He didnt, but he will, an hell break that squareheads heart, or its little I know iv the ways iv men on the ships iv the sea.
Thomas Mugridge is becoming unendurable. I am compelled to Mister him and to Sir him with every speech. One reason for this is that Wolf Larsen seems to have taken a fancy to him. It is an unprecedented thing, I take it, for a captain to be chummy with the cook; but this is certainly what Wolf Larsen is doing. Two or three times he put his head into the galley and chaffed Mugridge good-naturedly, and once, this afternoon, he stood by the break of the poop and chatted with him for fully fifteen minutes. When it was over, and Mugridge was back in the galley, he became greasily radiant, and went about his work, humming coster songs in a nerve-racking and discordant falsetto.
I always get along with the officers, he remarked to me in a confidential tone. I know the wy, I do, to myke myself uppreciyted. There was my last skipper wy I thought nothin of droppin down in the cabin for a little chat and a friendly glass. Mugridge, sez e to me, Mugridge, sez e, youve missed yer vokytion. An ows that? sez I. Yer should a been born a gentleman, an never ad to work for yer livin. God strike me dead, Ump, if that aynt wot e sez, an me a-sittin there in is own cabin, jolly-like an comfortable, a-smokin is cigars an drinkin is rum.
This chitter-chatter drove me to distraction. I never heard a voice I hated so. His oily, insinuating tones, his greasy smile and his monstrous self-conceit grated on my nerves till sometimes I was all in a tremble. Positively, he was the most disgusting and loathsome person I have ever met. The filth of his cooking was indescribable; and, as he cooked everything that was eaten aboard, I was compelled to select what I ate with great circumspection, choosing from the least dirty of his concoctions.
My hands bothered me a great deal, unused as they were to work. The nails were discoloured and black, while the skin was already grained with dirt which even a scrubbing-brush could not remove. Then blisters came, in a painful and never-ending procession, and I had a great burn on my forearm, acquired by losing my balance in a roll of the ship and pitching against the galley stove. Nor was my knee any better. The swelling had not gone down, and the cap was still up on edge. Hobbling about on it from morning till night was not helping it any. What I needed was rest, if it were ever to get well.
Rest! I never before knew the meaning of the word. I had been resting all my life and did not know it. But now, could I sit still for one half-hour and do nothing, not even think, it would be the most pleasurable thing in the world. But it is a revelation, on the other hand. I shall be able to appreciate the lives of the working people hereafter. I did not dream that work was so terrible a thing. From half-past five in the morning till ten oclock at night I am everybodys slave, with not one moment to myself, except such as I can steal near the end of the second dog-watch. Let me pause for a minute to look out over the sea sparkling in the sun, or to gaze at a sailor going aloft to the gaff-topsails, or running out the bowsprit, and I am sure to hear the hateful voice, Ere, you, Ump, no sodgerin, Ive got my peepers on yer[52].
There are signs of rampant bad temper in the steerage, and the gossip is going around that Smoke and Henderson have had a fight. Henderson seems the best of the hunters, a slow-going fellow, and hard to rouse; but roused he must have been, for Smoke had a bruised and discoloured eye, and looked particularly vicious when he came into the cabin for supper.