The Cruise of the Midge. Michael Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "If it really be as Quacco says," said Wadding, in a sympathizing tone, "why, then, I will believe it is all fancy—all a barn."

      Here the black serjeant, in great tribulation, rose to go forward, evidently with a desire to reconnoitre whether the graven image was really there in the body or no. After a long search, he came back and sat down, blank and stupified, on the spot where he had risen from.

      "And pray, Mr. Drainings, when did you see this curious appearance?" persisted Lennox.

      "At the wery instant of time," drawled Cookey, with his arms crossed, and his hands stuck into the open bosom of his greasy shirt, that had once been red flannel, and with a short black stump of a pipe in his mouth, from which he puffed out a cloud between every word, "at the wery instant of time, by the glass, that Serjeant Quacco there mended the fire."

      "Oh—oh—oh!"—Here all hands of the rogues who were in the secret, began again to roll about and grimace, as if a travelling menagerie of baboons had suddenly burst, and capsized its inmates all about. Quacco all this while was twisting and turning himself, and, although evidently in a deuced quandary, trying to laugh the affair off as a joke.

      "Well," at length said he, "I don't believe in fetish—now dat I is among whiteman Christian. So I will tank you, Massa Draining, to hand me over my chocolate."

      But I noticed that the devil a drop would he take into his mouth, although he made believe to drink it. The jest went on—at length there was a calm, when who should again break ground but Serjeant Quacco—who made a last attempt to laugh off the whole affair.

      "But where de debil can he be?" said he, almost involuntarily—"gone, sure enough."

      "Oh—oh—oh—" sung out all hands once more, with their fists stuck into their midriffs.

      "Oh, that vile fetish," screamed Lennox; "we must all be bewitched—Quacco, we are all bewitched.'"

      "Bewitch!" responded the black Serjeant, jumping off the deck, and now at his wit's end; "and I believe it is so. I hab pain in my tomak too—just dis moment—oh, wery sharp!"

      "Confound your fetish," groaned the old cook; "it was just as you stuck those chips of cedarwood into the fire—precisely at the wery moment I snuffed the delicious smell of them, that I saw the devil himself first put his ugly fiz up in the middle of the peas-soup, and gibber, and twinkle his eyes, and say"——

      "Say!" shouted Lennox—"why did he really and truly speak, Mr. Drainings?"

      "Speak!" responded he of the slush bucket—"speak! ay, as plain as I do now."

      "And what said he?" quoth Dogvane.

      "Why, just as he shook off the spray from the barb at the end of his tail, says he—'Damme, I'm off,' says he."

      "Oh, oh, oh! I am pinned through my ground tier with a harpoon," groaned Drainings.

      "Where, in the devil's name, since we have seen him, got you those cedar chips, Quacco?" yelled old Clinker.

      A light seemed to break in on the poor Serjeant's bewildered mind. "Chip, chip!—where I get dem chip?" Here the poor fellow gave an idiotic laugh, as if he had been all abroad. "I get dem from Corporal Lennox, to be sure,"—and he turned his eyes with the most intense earnestness towards the marine, who was rolling about the deck over and over.

      "Where got I the chips, did you ask, Quacco? Oh, oh, oh!—Why, Heaven forgive me—but I am punished for it now—they are the very splinters of your fetish, that you brought on board!"

      Up started the black resetter as if bit by a rattlesnake, dancing and jumping, "Oh, my tomack, oh, my tomack!—de fetish have get into my tomack—de leetle debil in a my tomack. Oh, doctor, doctor!—one evil spirit in me—oh, doctor, someting to make him fly—someting to get him out! Doctor, de debil in a my belly—physic—physic, doctor; de strongerer de more betterer. Oh Lord!" And away he tumbled down the fore-hatchway, roaring for Esculapius like a perfect bull of Bashan.

      While we were laughing at this to our heart's content, Mr. Marline came aft to us. "There are a good many dark specks passing and repassing above us in the furthermost reach of the river, yonder, sir—as far as you can see there, sir. Will you please to look at them, Mr. Sprawl?"

      Sprawl took a long squint first, and then handed the glass to me. I peered, and peered. The glorious stream was rolling down like a shining flow of quicksilver; but although all continued quiet in our vicinity, yet, where it narrowed nearly to a bright point in the distance above, I could perceive a tiny dark object slowly descend the river, and send up a thick cloud of smoke, after which it remained stationary, while a number of small black spots were seen cruising hither and thither all around it.

      Sprawl had also noticed this. "Why, Brail, those gentry seem mustering in some strength. There cannot be many fewer than a hundred canoes paddling about there. What say you?"

      It was now near three, P.M., and we were bethinking ourselves of going to dinner, when a perfect cloud of the dark specks, fifty at the least, began to drop down with the ebb in a solid phalanx, looking in the distance like a compact black raft of wood. Presently they sheered off right and left; and although the craft from which we had seen the smoke arise, still remained at anchor in the stream, the attendant canoes vanished, one and all, amongst the mangroves, on either bank. "Poo—nonsense!" said Dick Lanyard. "Come along, Sprawl—come along. Why, man, we shall get as thin as whipping-posts, if we allow these barbarian demonstrations to interfere with our comforts."

      "You may be right, my boy—you may be right," said old Davie; but he appeared to have some strange misgivings.

      However, we went to dinner; the reefers were all with us, little Joe Peake among the rest, who was now quite recovered from the thump he had got on shore, and old Pumpbolt; and we were in the very middle of it, when down came Wadding, the gunner.—"Beg pardon, sir," said the old seaman, sidling in, and trying to appear at his ease, although he was very far from that same. "Beg pardon—but them chaps are coming more nearer, sir, than seems quite convenient—they are fast dropping down with the afternoon's ebb, sir."

      "Indeed!" said old Sprawl, "We must keep a bright look-out here, Brail, at any rate."

      We went on deck, and the report was literally true; but although the mass above us continued to increase until the whole surface of the river in the distance seemed swarming, as one has seen a pool with those blue water-insects which, I believe, as boys, we used to call sailors, still there was no warlike demonstration made, beyond the occasional descent of a fast-pulling canoe now and then, a mile or so below the main body. But they were always very easily satisfied in their reconnoitring, so far as we could judge, for the whole of them kept a wary distance.

      We returned to the cabin for half an hour, and having finished off with a caulker of good cogniac, all hands of us once more came on deck.

      It was now half-past four, and low water as near as could be. The bar astern of us—by this time the breeze having taken off, we were riding to the ebb—was one roaring ledge of white breakers; but it was smooth water where we lay, the fall of the tide having completely broken the heave of the heavy swell that rolled in from the offing on the bar. The clouds had risen over the land, some large drops of rain fell, and altogether we had strong prognostications of a wet, if not a tempestuous evening.

      The declining sun, however, was yet shining brightly; and although, calculating СКАЧАТЬ