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Show II Us JthHJ Chilli 1 JACK LON- krrl tt( lvVS:; ( dows sea ex- aRIX11o .iStiK VPERIENCE 1S 'I YLj! ISEDWITH ALL THEQWgR . ' -. copyright tfv .JCX LONDON- ' ' ' ''-' -" '-; j one (lay, and I had j'.ut finished putting put-ting the cabin in order, when Wolf Lai'sen and Thomas Mugridge de- j scended the companion stairs. Though I the cook had a cubbyhole of a state- j room opening off from the cabin, in the cabin itself he had never dared to linger or .to be seen, and he flitted to and fro, once or twice a day, like a timid specter. "So you know how to play 'Nap,' " Wolf Larsen was saying in a pleased sort of voice. "I might have guessed an Englishman would know. 1 learned it myself in English ships." Thomas Mugridge was beside himself, him-self, a blithering imbecile, so pleased was he at chumming thus with the captain. The little airs he put on and the painful striving to assume the easy carriage of a man born to a dignified dig-nified place in life would have been sickening had they not been ludicrous. He quite ignored my presence, though i I credited him with being simply un- j able to see me. His pale, wishy-washy eyes were swimming like lazy summer seas, though what blissful visions they beheld were beyond my imagination. "Get the cards, Hump," Wolf Larsen Lar-sen ordered, as they took seats at the table. "And bring out the cigars and the whisky you'll find in my berth." I returned with the articles in time to hear the cockney hinting broadly that there was a mystery about him, that he might be a gentleman's son gone wrong or something or other; also, that he was a remittance man and was paid to keep away from England Eng-land "p'yed 'ansomely to sling my 'ook an' keep slingin' it." I had brought the customary liquor glasses, but Wolf Larsen frowned, shook his head, and signaled with his hands for me to bring the tumblers. These he filled two-thirds full with undiluted whisky "a gentleman's drink," quoth Thomas Mugridge and they clinked their glasses to the glorious glo-rious game of "Nap," lighted cigars, and fell to shuffling and dealing the cards. They played for money. They increased in-creased the amounts of the bets. They drank whisky, they drank it neat, and I fetched more. I do not know whether wheth-er Wolf Larsen cheated or not a thing he was thoroughly capable of doing but he won steadily. The cook made repeated journeys to his bunk for money. Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. He grew maudlin, familiar, could hardly see the cards or sit upright. As a preliminary to another an-other journey to his bunk, he hooked Wolf Larsen's buttonhole with a greasy forefinger and vacuously proclaimed pro-claimed and reiterated, "1 got money. 1 got money, I tell yer, an' I'm a gentleman's gen-tleman's son." Wolf Larsen was unaffected by the drink, yet he drank glass for glass, and if anything his glasses were fuller. There was no change in him. He did not appear even amused at the other's antics. (TO BE CONTINUED.) himseO' Yes. But 1 do not accept his estimate. He sadly overrates himself. him-self. There is plenty more life demanding de-manding to be born. To himself only was he of value, and to show how fictitious even this value was, being dead he is unconscious that he has lost himself. He alone rated himself beyond be-yond diamonds and rubies. Diamonds and rubies are gone, spread out on the deck to be washed away by a bucket, of sea-water, and he does not even know that the diamonds and rubies are gone. He does not lose anything, for with the loss of himself he loses the knowledge of loss. Don't you see? And what have you to say?" "That you are at least consistent," was all I could say, and I went on washing the dishes. CHAPTER VII. At last, after three days of variable winds, we have caught the northeast trades. I came on deck, after a good night's rest in spite of my poor knee, to find the Ghost foaming along, wing-and-wing, and every sail drawing except ex-cept the jibs, with a fresh breeze astern. Ten knots, twelve knots, eleven knots, varying from time to time, is the speed we are making. And ever out of the northeast the brave wind blows, driving us on our course 250 miles between the dawns. Each day grows perceptibly warmer. In the second dog-watch the sailors come on deck, stripped, and heave buckets of water upon one another from overside. Flying fish are beginning begin-ning to be seen, and during the night the watch above scrambles over the deck in pursuit of those that fall aboard. In the morning Thomas Mug ridge being duly bribed, the galley is pleasantly areek with the odor of their frying, while dolphin meat is served fore and aft on such occasions as Johnson catches the blazing beauties beau-ties from the bowsprit end. The days and nights are "all a wonder won-der and a wild delight," and though I have little time from my dreary work, I steal odd moments to gaze and SYNOPSIS. 5 Humphrey Van Weyden. critic and dilettante, dilet-tante, is tin-own into the water by t lie sinking of a ferryboat in a fog In San Francisco bay. and becomes unconscious before help reaches him. On coming to his senses he finds himself aboard the sealing schooner Ghost, Captain Wolf I. arson, bound to .lapan waters, witnesses the death of the first mate and hears the captain curse the dead man for presuming to die at the beginning of the voyage. The captain refuses to put Humphrey ashore and makes him cabin boy "for the good of his son!." Humphrey sees the body of the mate dumped into the sea. He begins to learn potato peeling and dish washing under the cockney cook. Mugridge. Is caught by a heavy sea shipped over the quarter as he is carrying tea aft and his knee is seriously hurt, but no one pays any attention to his injury. Hump's quarters quar-ters are changed aft. Mugridge steals his money and chases him when accused of it. Later he listens to Wolf give his Idea of life "like yeast, a ferment . . . the big eat the little . . ." CHAPTER VI Continued. A cruel thing happened just before supper, indicative of the callousness and brutishness of these men. There is one green hand in the crew, Harrison Harri-son by name, a clumsy-looking country boy, mastered, I imagine, by the spirit of adventure, and making his first voy age. In some way, when Harrison was aloft, the sheet jammed in the block through which it runs at the end of the gaff. As I understood it, there were two ways of getting it cleared first, by lowering the foresail, which was comparatively easy and without danger; and, second, by climbing out the peak-halyards to the end of the gaff itself, an exceedingly hazardous performance. Johansen called out to Harrison to go out the halyards. The Ghost was rolling emptily in a long sea, and with iach roll the halyards slacked and Jerked taut. They were capable of snapping a man off like a fly from a whiplash. Harrison heard the order and hesi tated. , It was probably the first time he had been aloft in his life. Johansen Johan-sen burst out with a volley of abuse and curses. "That'll do, Johansen," Wolf Larsen said brusquely. "I'll have you know that I do the swearing on this ship At half after five 1 went below to set the cabin table, but I hardly knew what 1 did, for my eyes and brain were filled with the vision of a man, white-faced white-faced and trembling, comically like a bug, clinging to the thrashing gaff. At six o'clock, when I served supper, going on deck to get the food from the galley, I saw Harrison, still in the same position. The conversation at the table was of other things. Nobody seemed interested in the wantonly imperiled im-periled life. But, making an extra trip to the galley a little later, I was gladdened by the sight of Harrison staggering weakly from the rigging to the forecastle scuttle. He had finally summoned the courage to descend. Before closing this incident, 1 must give a scrap of conversation I had with Wolf Larsen in the cabin, while I was washing dishes. "You were looking squeamish this afternoon," he began. "What was the matter?" I could see that he knew what had made me possibly as sick as Harrison, Harri-son, that he was trying to draw me, and I answered, "It was because of the brutal treatment of that boy." He gave a short laugh. "Like seasickness, sea-sickness, I Luppose. Some men are subject to it, and others are not." "Not so," I objected. "Just so," he went on. "The earth is as full of brutality as the sea is full of motion. And some men are made sick by the one, and some by the other. That's the only reason." "But you, who make a mock of human hu-man life, don't you place any value upon it whatever?" I demanded. "Value? What value?" He looked at me, and though his eyes were steady and motionless, there seemed a cynical smile in them. "What kind of value? How do you measure it? Who values it?" "I do," I made answer. "Then what is it worth to you? Another An-other man's life, 1 mean. Come, now, what is it worth?" The value of life? How could I put a tangible value upon it? Somehow, I, who have always had expression. gaze at the unending glory of what I never dreamed the world possessed. 1 do not forget one night, when I should have been asleep, of lying on the forecastle fore-castle head and gazing down at the spectral ripple of foam thrust aside by the Ghost's forefoot. It sounded like the gurgling of a brook over mossy stones in some quiet dell, and the crooning song of it lured me away and out of myself till I was no longer Hump the cabin-boy, nor Van Wey-den, Wey-den, the man who had dreamed away thirty-five years among books. But a voice behind me. the unmistakable voice of Wolf Larsen. strong with the invincible certitude of the man and mellow with appreciation of the words he was quoting, aroused me. "O the blazing tropic night, when the wake's a welt of light That holds the hot sky tame. And the steady forefoot snores through the planet-powdered floors Where the scared whale tlukes in flame. Her plates are scarred by the sun. dear las. And her ropes are taut with the dew. For we're booming down on the old trail. our own trail, the out trail. We're sagging south on the Long Trail the trail that Is always new." "Eh, Hump? How's it strike you?" he asked, after the due pause which the words and setting demanded. I looked into his face. It was aglow with light, as the sea itself, and the eyes were flashing in the starshine. "It strikes me as remarkable, to say the least, that you should show enthusiasm," enthu-siasm," I answered coldly. "Why, man, it's living! It's life!" he cried. "Which is a cheap thing and without with-out value," I flung his words at him. He laughed, and it was the first time If I need your assistance, 1 11 call you m-" "Yes, sir," the mate acknowledged submissively. In the meantime Harrison had started out on the halyards. It was a slight uphill climb, for the foresail peaked high. When he was half way out, the Ghost took a long roll to windward and back again into the hollow hol-low between two seas. It was the snap of the whip. His clutch was broken. His body pitched out and down, but in some way he managed to save himself with his legs, hanging head downward. A quick effort brought his hands up to the halyards again; but he was a long time regaining his former position, where he hung, a pitiable object. "I'll bet he has no appetite for supper," sup-per," I heard Wolf Larsen's voice, which came to me around the corner of the galley. "It's a shame," I heard ' Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me. "The boy is willing enough. He will learn if he has a chance. But this is" He paused awhile, for the word "murder" was his final judgment. "Hist, will ye!" Louis whispered to him. "For the love iv your mother hold your mouth!" It took Harrison fully ten minutes to get started again. A little later he made the end of the gaff, where, astride the spar itself, he cleared the sheet, and was free to return. But he had lost his nerve. Johansen called vainly for him to come down. At any moment he was liable to be snapped off the gaff, but he was helpless with fright. Wolf Larsen, walking up and u 'Mil I Kite "You're Off Your Course, My Man." lacked expression when with Wolf Larsen. The sacredness of life I had accepted as axiomatic. That it was intrinsically valuable was a truism I had never questioned. But when he challenged the truism I was speechless. speech-less. "We were talking about this yesterday." yes-terday." be said. "1 held that life was a ferment, a yeast, something which devoured life that it might live, and that living was merely successful piggishness Why, if there is anything down with Smoke and in conversation, took no more notice of him. though he cried sharply once to the man at the wheel: "You're off your course, my man! Be careful, unless you're looking for 1 trouble!" "Ay, ay. sir," the helmsman respond ed, putting a couple of spokes down He had been guilty of running the Ghost several points off her course in order that what little wind there was should fill the foresail and hold it steady. He had striven to help the J unfortunate Harrison at the risk of Incurring Wolf Larsen's anger. Fully half an hour went by.' and then I saw Johnson and Louis in some sort of altercation. It ended with Johnson flinging off Louis' detaining arm and starting forward. He crosso : the deck, sprang into the fore rigging, and began to climb. Rut the quick eye of Wolf Larsen caught him. "Here, you, what are you up to?" he cried. Jo'inson's ascent was arrested. He looked his captain in the eyes and replied slowly : "1 am going to get that boy down." "You'll get down out of that rigging and damn lively about it! D'ye hear? Get down!" Johnson hesitated, but the long vcars of obedience to the masters of hips overpowerel him. and he dropped ulU'iily to the deck and went ou for- in supply and demand, life is the cheapest thing in the world. There is only so much water, so much earth, .so much air; but the life that is demanding de-manding to he born is limitless. Nature Na-ture is a spendthrift. Life? Bah! It has no value. Of cheap things it is the cheapest. Everywhere it goes begging. Nature spills it out with a lavish hand. Where there is room for one life, she sows a thousand lives and it's life oats life till the strongest and most piggish life is left." "You have read Darwin." 1 said. "But you read him misunderstanding-ly misunderstanding-ly when you conclude that the struggle for existence sanctions your wanton destruction of life." He shrugged his shoulders. "Yon know you only mean that in relation to human life, for of the flesh and fowl and the fish you destroy as much as I or any other man. And human life is in no wise different, though you feel it is and think that you reason why it is. Why should I be parsimonious with this life which is so cheap and without value?" He staited for the companion stairs but turned his head for a final word. "Do you know the only value lite has is what life puts upon itself? And it is of course overestimated, since it is of necessity prejudiced in its own favor. Take that man I had aloft. He held on as if he were a precious thing, a treasure beyond diamonds or rubies To you? No. Tome? Not at all. To 1 had heard honest mirth in his voice. "Ah, I cannot get you to understand, cannot drive it into your bead, what a thing this life is. Of course life Is valueless, except to itself. And 1 can tell you that my life is pretty valuable just now to myself. It is beyond price, which you will acknowledge is a terrific overrating, but which I cannot can-not help, for it is the life that is in me that makes the rating." He left me as suddenly as he had come, springing to the deck with the weight and softness of a tiger. Some times 1 think him mad. or half mad at least, what of his strange moods and vagaries. At other times 1 take him for a great man. a genius who has never arrived. He is cerlainly an in dividualist of the most pronounced type. Not only that, but he is very lonely. His tremendous virility and mental strength wall him apart. Men are more like children to him. even the hunters, and as children he treats j thorn, descending perforce to their level and phiying with them as a man plays with puppies. Or else he probes them with the cruel hand of a vivisec-tionist. vivisec-tionist. groping about in their mental processes as though to see of what soul-stuff is made. While on the question of vagaries. 1 shall tell what befell Thomas Mug ridge in the cabin, and at the same time complete an incident upon which l have already touched once or twice The twelve o'clock dinner was over. |