The Complete Travel Writings of Mark Twain: The Innocents Abroad + Roughing It + A Tramp Abroad + Following the Equator + Some Rambling Notes of an Idle Excursion. Mark Twain

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СКАЧАТЬ fine day.”

      He put his hand on his stomach and said, “Oh, my!” and then staggered away and fell over the coop of a skylight.

      Presently another old gentleman was projected from the same door with great violence. I said:

      “Calm yourself, Sir — There is no hurry. It is a fine day, Sir.”

      He, also, put his hand on his stomach and said “Oh, my!” and reeled away.

      In a little while another veteran was discharged abruptly from the same door, clawing at the air for a saving support. I said:

      “Good morning, Sir. It is a fine day for pleasuring. You were about to say — ”

      “Oh, my!”

      I thought so. I anticipated him, anyhow. I stayed there and was bombarded with old gentlemen for an hour, perhaps; and all I got out of any of them was “Oh, my!”

      I went away then in a thoughtful mood. I said, this is a good pleasure excursion. I like it. The passengers are not garrulous, but still they are sociable. I like those old people, but somehow they all seem to have the “Oh, my” rather bad.

      I knew what was the matter with them. They were seasick. And I was glad of it. We all like to see people seasick when we are not, ourselves. Playing whist by the cabin lamps when it is storming outside is pleasant; walking the quarterdeck in the moonlight is pleasant; smoking in the breezy foretop is pleasant when one is not afraid to go up there; but these are all feeble and commonplace compared with the joy of seeing people suffering the miseries of seasickness.

      I picked up a good deal of information during the afternoon. At one time I was climbing up the quarterdeck when the vessel’s stem was in the sky; I was smoking a cigar and feeling passably comfortable. Somebody ejaculated:

      “Come, now, that won’t answer. Read the sign up there — NO SMOKING ABAFT THE WHEEL!”

      It was Captain Duncan, chief of the expedition. I went forward, of course. I saw a long spyglass lying on a desk in one of the upper-deck staterooms back of the pilothouse and reached after it — there was a ship in the distance.

      “Ah, ah — hands off! Come out of that!”

      I came out of that. I said to a deck-sweep — but in a low voice:

      “Who is that overgrown pirate with the whiskers and the discordant voice?”

      “It’s Captain Bursley — executive officer — sailing master.”

      I loitered about awhile, and then, for want of something better to do, fell to carving a railing with my knife. Somebody said, in an insinuating, admonitory voice:

      “Now, say — my friend — don’t you know any better than to be whittling the ship all to pieces that way? You ought to know better than that.”

      I went back and found the deck sweep.

      “Who is that smooth-faced, animated outrage yonder in the fine clothes?”

      “That’s Captain L****, the owner of the ship — he’s one of the main bosses.”

      In the course of time I brought up on the starboard side of the pilothouse and found a sextant lying on a bench. Now, I said, they “take the sun” through this thing; I should think I might see that vessel through it. I had hardly got it to my eye when someone touched me on the shoulder and said deprecatingly:

      “I’ll have to get you to give that to me, Sir. If there’s anything you’d like to know about taking the sun, I’d as soon tell you as not — but I don’t like to trust anybody with that instrument. If you want any figuring done — Aye, aye, sir!”

      He was gone to answer a call from the other side. I sought the deck-sweep.

      “Who is that spider-legged gorilla yonder with the sanctimonious countenance?”

      “It’s Captain Jones, sir — the chief mate.”

      “Well. This goes clear away ahead of anything I ever heard of before. Do you — now I ask you as a man and a brother — do you think I could venture to throw a rock here in any given direction without hitting a captain of this ship?”

      “Well, sir, I don’t know — I think likely you’d fetch the captain of the watch may be, because he’s a-standing right yonder in the way.”

      I went below — meditating and a little downhearted. I thought, if five cooks can spoil a broth, what may not five captains do with a pleasure excursion.

      CHAPTER IV.

      Table of Contents

      We plowed along bravely for a week or more, and without any conflict of jurisdiction among the captains worth mentioning. The passengers soon learned to accommodate themselves to their new circumstances, and life in the ship became nearly as systematically monotonous as the routine of a barrack. I do not mean that it was dull, for it was not entirely so by any means — but there was a good deal of sameness about it. As is always the fashion at sea, the passengers shortly began to pick up sailor terms — a sign that they were beginning to feel at home. Halfpast six was no longer halfpast six to these pilgrims from New England, the South, and the Mississippi Valley, it was “seven bells”; eight, twelve, and four o’clock were “eight bells”; the captain did not take the longitude at nine o’clock, but at “two bells.” They spoke glibly of the “after cabin,” the “for’rard cabin,” “port and starboard” and the “fo’castle.”

      At seven bells the first gong rang; at eight there was breakfast, for such as were not too seasick to eat it. After that all the well people walked arm-in-arm up and down the long promenade deck, enjoying the fine summer mornings, and the seasick ones crawled out and propped themselves up in the lee of the paddle-boxes and ate their dismal tea and toast, and looked wretched. From eleven o’clock until luncheon, and from luncheon until dinner at six in the evening, the employments and amusements were various. Some reading was done, and much smoking and sewing, though not by the same parties; there were the monsters of the deep to be looked after and wondered at; strange ships had to be scrutinized through opera-glasses, and sage decisions arrived at concerning them; and more than that, everybody took a personal interest in seeing that the flag was run up and politely dipped three times in response to the salutes of those strangers; in the smoking room there were always parties of gentlemen playing euchre, draughts and dominoes, especially dominoes, that delightfully harmless game; and down on the main deck, “for’rard” — for’rard of the chicken-coops and the cattle — we had what was called “horse billiards.” Horse billiards is a fine game. It affords good, active exercise, hilarity, and consuming excitement. It is a mixture of “hopscotch” and shuffleboard played with a crutch. A large hopscotch diagram is marked out on the deck with chalk, and each compartment numbered. You stand off three or four steps, with some broad wooden disks before you on the deck, and these you send forward with a vigorous thrust of a long crutch. If a disk stops on a chalk line, it does not count anything. If it stops in division No. 7, it counts 7; in 5, it counts 5, and so on. The game is 100, and four can play at a time. That game would be very simple played on a stationary floor, but with us, to play it well required science. СКАЧАТЬ