CHAPTER XIV
PEGGY SIMMS
"Caught with the goods!" said Lund. "Two tries at mutiny in one day, mylads. You want to git it into your boneheads that I'm runnin' this shipfrom now on. I can sail it without ye and, by God, I'll set the bunch ofye ashore same's you figgered on doin' with me if you don't sit up an'take notice! The rifles an' guns"--he glanced at the orderly display ofweapons in racks on the wall--"are too vallyble to chuck over, but herego the shells, ev'ry last one of them. So that nips _that_ little plan,Deming."
He turned back the slip to display the contents.
"Open a port, Rainey, an' heave the lot out."
Rainey did so while the hunters gazed on in silent chagrin.
"There's one thing more," said Lund, grinning at them. "If enny of yousaw a man hurtin' a dog, you'd probably fetch him a wallop. But youdon't think ennything of scarin' the life out of a half-baked kid an'markin' up his hide like a patchwork quilt. Thet kid's stayin' aft afterthis. One of you monkey with him, an' you'll do jest what he's bindoin', wish you was dead an' overboard."
He turned on his heel and walked to the door, Rainey following.
"Burial of the skipper at dawn," said Lund. "All hands on deck, cleanan' neatly dressed to stand by. An' see yore behavior fits the occasion.Deming, you'll turn out, too. No malingerin'."
It was plain that the news of the captain's death was known to them.They showed no surprise. Rainey was sure that Tamada had not mentionedit. It had leaked out through the grape-vine telegraphy of all ships.Doubtless, he thought, the after-cabin and its doings was always beingspied upon.
"Will you take the service ter-morrer?" Lund asked Rainey when theywere back in the cabin. "Bein' as yo're an eddicated chap?"
"Why--I don't know it. Is there a prayer-book aboard? I thought theskipper always presided."
"I'm only deputy-skipper w'en it comes down to that," said Lund. "Itain't my ship. I'm jest runnin' it under contract with my late partner.The ship belongs to the gal. And yo're top officer now, in the regularrun. As to a prayer-book, there ain't sech an article aboard to myknowledge. But I'd like to have it go off shipshape. For Simms' sake aswell as the gal's. I reckon he used his best jedgment 'bout puttin' backafter me on the floe. I might have done the same thing myself."
Rainey doubted that statement, and set it down to Lund's generosity.Many of his late words and actions had displayed a latent depth offeeling that he had never credited Lund with possessing. He could nothelp believing that, in some way, the girl had brought them to thesurface.
"I thought I saw a Bible in the safe," he said, "when we were lookingfor the shells. There may be a prayer-book. I suppose there have beenoccasions for it. The mate died at sea last trip."
"There may be," returned Lund. "That's where Simms 'ud keep it. Hewarn't what you'd call a religious man. We'll take a look afore we turnin."
There were offices to be performed for the dead captain that the girl,with all her willingness, could not attempt. Lund did not mention them,and Rainey vacillated about disturbing her until he saw Tamada gothrough the cabin with folded canvas and a flag. The Japanese tapped onthe door, which was instantly opened to him. He had been expected.
There was no doubt that Tamada, with his medical experience, was bestfitted for the task, but it seemed to Rainey also that the girl haddeliberately ignored their services and that, despite her involuntaryadmiration of Lund's fight against odds, or in revulsion of it, shereckoned them hostile to her sentiments. Lund roused him by talking ofthe burial-service for Simms.
"You're a writer," he said. "What's the good of knowin' how to handlewords if you can't fake up some sort of a service? One's as good asanother, long as it sounds like the real thing.
"I reckon there's a God," he went on. "Somethin' that started things,somethin' that keeps the stars from runnin' each other down, but, afterHe wound up the clock He made, I don't figger He bothers much about theworks.
"Luck's the big thing that counts. We're all in on the deal. Some of usgit the deuces an' treys, an' some git the aces. If yo're born luckythings go soft for you. But, if it warn't for luck, for the chance an'the hope of it, things 'ud be upside down an' plain anarchy in a jiffy.If it warn't the pore devil's idea that his luck has got to change forthe better, mebbe ter-morrer, he'd start out an' cut his own throat, orsome one else's, if he had ginger enough."
"It's hardly all luck, is it?" asked Rainey. "Look at you! You're biggerthan most men, stronger, better equipped to get what you want."
"Hell!" laughed Lund. "I was lucky to be born that way. But you've gotto fudge up some sort of a service to suit the gal. You've got thatBible. It ought to be easy. Simms wouldn't give a whoop, enny more'n Iwould. When yo're dead yo're through, so far's enny one can prove it toyou. A dead body's a nuisance, an' the sooner it's got rid of thebetter. But if it's goin' to make the livin' feel enny better forspielin' off some fine words, why, hop to it an' make up yore speech."
Peggy Simms saved Rainey by producing a prayer-book, bringing it toLund, her face pale but composed enough, and her shadowed eyes calm asshe gave it to him.
"I reckon Rainey here 'ud read it better'n me," he said. "He's ascholar."
"If you will," asked the girl. She seemed to have outworn her firstsorrow, to have obtained a grip of herself that, with the dignity of herbereavement, the very control of her undoubted grief, set up a barrierbetween her and Lund. Rainey was conscious of this fence behind whichthe girl had retreated. She was polite, but she did not ask this serviceas a favor, as a friendly act. Refusal, even, would not have visiblyaffected her, he fancied. There was an invisible armor about her thatmight be added to at any moment by a shield of silent scorn. Somehow, ifsex had, for a swift moment, brought her and Lund into any contact, thatsame sex, showing another aspect, set them far apart.
Lund showed that he felt it, running his splay fingers through his beardin evident embarrassment, while Rainey took the book silently, lookingthrough the pages for the ritual of "Burial at Sea."
Arrangements had been made on deck long before dawn. A section of therail had been removed and a grating arranged that could be tipped atthe right moment for the consignment of the captain's body to the deep.
The sea was running in long heaves, and the sun rose in a clear sky. Theocean was free from ice, though the wind was cold. Here and there aberg, far off, caught the sparkle of the sun and, to the north, parallelto their course, the peaks of the Aleutian Isles, broken buttresses ofan ancient seabridge, showed sharply against the horizon.
At four bells in the morning watch all hands had assembled, save forTamada and Hansen, who appeared bearing the canvas-enveloped,flag-draped body of Simms, his sea-shroud weighted by heavy pieces ofiron. Peggy Simms followed them, and, as the crew, with shuffling feetand throats that were repeatedly cleared, gathered in a semicircle, shearranged the folds of the Stars and Stripes that Hansen attached to alight line by one corner.
Whatever Lund affected, the solemnity of the occasion held the men. Theyuncovered and stood with bowed heads that hid the bruised faces of thehunters. Lund's own damaged features were lowered as Rainey commenced toread. Only Deming's face, gray from the effort of coming on deck and thepain in his arm, held the semblance of a sneer that was largely bravado.A hunter had his arm tucked in that of his comrade with the broken ribs.A seaman was told off to the wheel and the schooner was held to the windwith all sheets close inboard, rising and falling on an almost levelkeel.
"_And the body shall be cast into the sea._"
At the words Lund and Hansen tilted the grating. There was a slightpause as if the body were reluctant to start on its last journey, andthen it slid from the platform and plunged into the sea, disappearinginstantly under the urge of the weights, with a hissing aeration of thewater. The flag, held inboard by the line, fluttered a moment andsubsided over the grating. The girl turned toward them, her head up.
"Thank you," she said, and went below.
"That's over," said Lund, letting out whatever emoti
ons he might haverepressed in a long breath. "Now, then, trim ship! Watch-off, get below.We're goin' to drive her for all she's worth."
He took the wheel himself as the men jumped to the sheets and soon Lundwas getting every foot of possible speed out of the schooner. He was asgood a sailor as Simms, inclined to take more chances, but capable ofhandling them.
The girl kept below and seldom came out of her cabin, Tamada serving hermeals in there. Rainey could see Lund's resentment growing at thisattitude that seemed to him normal enough, though it might presentdifficulty later if persisted in. But the morning that they headed upthrough Sequam Pass between the spouting reefs of Sequam and AmliaIslands, she came on deck and went forward to the bows, taking in deepbreaths of the bracing air and gazing north to the free expanse ofBering Strait. Rainey left her alone, but Lund welcomed her as she cameback aft.
"Glad to see you on deck again, Miss Peggy," he said. "You need sun andair to git you in shape again."
His glance held vivid admiration of her as he spoke, a glance that ranover her rounded figure with a frank approval that Rainey resented, butto which the girl paid no attention. She seemed to have made up her mindto a change of attitude.
"How far have we yet to go?" she asked.
"A'most a thousan' miles to the Strait proper," said Lund. "TheNome-Unalaska steamer lane lies to the east. Runs close to thePribilofs, three hundred miles north, with Hall an' St. Matthew threehundred further. Then comes St. Lawrence Isle, plumb in the middle ofthe Strait, with Siberia an' Alaska closin' in."
He was keen to hold her in conversation, and she willing to listen,assenting almost eagerly when he offered to point out their positionson the chart, spread on the cabin table. Lund talked well, for all hislimited and at times luridly inclined vocabulary, whenever he talked ofthe sea and of his own adventures, stating them without brag, butbringing up striking pictures of action, full of the color and savor oflife in the raw. From that time on Peggy Simms came to the table andtalked freely with Lund, more conservatively with Rainey.
The newspaperman was no experienced analyst of woman nature, but he saw,or thought he saw, the girl watching Lund closely when he talked,studying him, sometimes with more than a hint of approbation, at otherswith a look that was puzzled, seeming to be working at a problem. Thegiant's liking for her, boyish at times, or swiftly changing to bolderappraisal, grew daily.
The girl, Rainey decided, was humoring Lund, seeking to know how withher feminine methods she might control him, keep him within bounds. Hercoldness, it seemed, she had cast aside as an expedient that might provetoo provoking and worthless.
And Rainey's valuation of her resources increased. She was handling herwoman's weapons admirably, yet when he sometimes, at night, under thecabin lamp, saw the smoldering light glowing in Lund's agate eyes, heknew that she was playing a dangerous game.
"What d'ye figger on doin' with yore share, Rainey?" Lund asked him thenight that they passed Nome. It was stormy weather in the Strait, andthe _Karluk_ was snugged down under treble reefs, fighting her waynorth. Ice in the Narrows was scarce, though Lund predicted broken floesonce they got through. The cabin was cozy, with a stove going. PeggySimms was busied with some sewing, the canary and the plants gave theplace a domestic atmosphere, and Lund, smoking comfortably, waseminently at ease.
"'Cordin' to the way the men figgered it out," he went on, "though Ireckon they're under the mark more'n over it, you'll have fortythousan' dollars. That's quite a windfall, though nothin' to Miss Peggy,here, or me, for that matter. I s'pose you got it all spent already."
"I don't know that I have," said Rainey. "But I think, if all goes well,I'll get a place up in the Coast Range, in the redwoods looking over thesea, and write. Not newspaper stuff, but what I've always wanted to.Stories. Yarns of adventure!"
Peggy Simms looked up.
"You've never done that?" she asked.
"Not satisfactorily. I suppose that genius burns in a garret, but Idon't imagine myself a genius and I don't like garrets. I've an idea Ican write better when I don't have to stand the bread-and-butter strainof routine."
"Goin' to write second-hand stuff?" asked Lund. "Why don't you _live_what you write? I don't see how yo're goin' to git under a man's skin bysquattin' in a bungalow with a Jap servant, a porcelain bathtub, an'breakfast in bed. Why don't you travel an' see stuff as it is? How inblazes are you goin' to write Adventure if you don't live it?
"Me, I'm goin' to git a schooner built accordin' to my own ideas. Have akicker engine in it, mebbe, an' go round the world. What's the use oflivin' on it an' not knowin' it by sight? Books and pictures are allright in their way, I reckon, but, while my riggin' holds up, I'm fortravel. Mebbe I'll take a group of islands down in the South Seas aftera bit an' make somethin' out of 'em. Not jest _copra_ an' pearl-shell,but cotton an' rubber."
"A king and his kingdom," suggested the girl.
"Aye, an' mebbe a queen to go with it," replied Lund, his eyes wide openin a look that made the girl flush and Rainey feel the hidden issue thathe felt was bound to come, rising to the surface.
"That's a _man's_ life," went on Lund. "Travel's all right, but a man'sgot to do somethin', buck somethin', start somethin'. An' a red-bloodedman wants the right kind of a woman to play mate. Polish off his roughedges, mebbe. I'd rather be a rough castin' that could stand filin' abit, than smooth an' plated. An', when I find the right woman, one of myown breed, I'm goin' to tie to her an' her to me.
"I'm goin' to be rich. They've cleaned up the sands of Nome, but there'sothers'll be found yit between Cape Hope an' Cape Barry. Meantime, we'vegot a placer of our own. With plenty of gold they ain't much limit towhat a man can do. I've roughed it all my life, an' I'm not lookin' forease. It makes a man soft. But--"
He swept the figure of the girl in a pause that was eloquent of his lineof thought. She grew uneasy of it, but Lund maintained it until sheraised her eyes from her work and challenged his. Rainey saw her breastheave, saw her struggle to hold the gaze, turn red, then pale. Hethought her eyes showed fear, and then she stiffened. Almostunconsciously she raised her hand to where Rainey was sure she kept thelittle pistol, touched something as though to assure herself of itspresence, and went on sewing. Lund chuckled, but shifted his eyes toRainey.
"Why don't you write up _this_ v'yage? When it's all over? There'sadventure for you, an' we ain't ha'f through with it. An' romance, too,mebbe. We ain't developed much of a love-story as yit, but you never cantell."
He laughed, and Peggy Simms got up quietly, folded her sewing, and said"Good night" composedly before she went to her room.
"How about it, Rainey?" quizzed Lund. "How about the love part of it?She's a beauty, an' she'll be an heiress. Ain't you got enny red bloodin yore veins? Don't you want her? You won't find many to hold a candleto her. Looks, built like a racin' yacht, smooth an' speedy. Smart, an'rich into the bargain. Why don't you make love to her?"
Rainey felt the burning blood mounting to his face and brain.
"I am not in love with Miss Simms," he said. "If I was I should not tryto make love to her under the circumstances. She's alone, and she'sfatherless. I do not care to discuss her."
"She's a woman," said Lund. "And yo're a damned prig! You'd like to bustme in the jaw, but you know I'm stronger. You've got some guts, Rainey,but yo're hidebound. You ain't got ha'f the git-up-an'-go to ye that shehas. She's a woman, I tell you, an' she's to be won. If you want her,why don't you stand up an' try to git her 'stead of sittin' around likea sick cat whenever I happen to admire her looks?
"I've seen you. I ain't blind enny longer, you know. She's a woman an'I'm a man. I thought you was one. But you ain't. Yore idea of makin'love is to send the gal a box of candy an' walk pussy-footed an' writepoems to her. You want to _write_ life an' I want to _live_ it. So doesa gal like that. She's more my breed than yores, if she has goteddication. An' she's flesh and blood. Same as I am. Yo're half sawdust.Yo're stuffed."
He went on deck laughing, leaving Rainey raging but help
less. Lundappeared to think the situation obvious. Two men, and a woman who wasattractive in many ways. The _only_ woman while they were aboard theschooner, therefore the more to be desired, admired by men cut off fromthe rest of the world.
He expected Rainey to be in love with her, to stand up and say so, toendeavor to win her. Lund sought the ardor of competition. He might belooking for the excuse to crush Rainey.
But he had said she was of his breed, and that was a true saying. IfLund was a son of the sea, she was a daughter of a line of seamen. Lund,sooner or later, meant to take her, willing or unwilling. He had saidso, none too covertly, that very evening. And, if Rainey meant to standbetween her and Lund as a protector, Lund would accept him in thatcharacter only as the girl's lover and his rival.
And Rainey did not know whether he was in love with her or not. He couldnot even be certain of the girl. There were times when Lund seemed tofascinate her. One thing he braced himself to do, to be ready to aid heragainst Lund if occasion came, and she needed protection. The luck, asLund phrased it, that had given brawn to the giant, had given Raineybrains. When the time came he would use them.
After this the girl avoided Lund's company as much as possible byseeking Rainey's. They worked through the Strait and headed into theArctic Ocean. Ice was all about them, fields formed of vast blocks offrozen water divided by broad lanes through which the _Karluk_ slowlymade her way, a maze of ice, always threatening, calling for all ofLund's skill while he fumed at every barrier, every change of theweather that grew steadily colder.
The sky was never entirely unveiled by mist, and at night, as theysailed down a frozen fiord with lookouts doubled, the grinding smashingnoises of the ice seemed the warning voice of the North, as they sailedon into the wilderness.
The hunters kept below. Lund bossed the ship. Deming, it seemed, managedto hold his cards and deal them despite his mending arm in splints. Andhe was steadily winning. The girl talked with Rainey of her own lifeashore and at sea on earlier trips with her father, of his own desire towrite, of his ambitions, until there was little he had not told her,even to the girl who was the daughter of the Lumber King.
And the spell of her nearness, her youth, her beauty, naturally heldhim. When he was on deck duty she remained in her room. When Lundrelieved him, the day's work giving Lund, Hansen, and Rainey each tworegular watches of four hours, though Lund put in most of the night asthe ice grew more difficult to navigate, Rainey occasionally saw thegiant's eyes sizing him up with a sardonic twinkle.
For the time being, the safety of the _Karluk_ and the successfulcarrying out of the purpose of the trip took all of Lund's attention andenergy. Twice he had been thwarted by the weather from gleaning hisgolden harvest, and it began to look as if the third attempt might be nomore fortunate.
"The _Karluk's_ stout," he said once, "but she ain't built for theArctic. If we git nipped badly she'll go like an eggshell."
"And then what?" Rainey asked.
"Git the gold! That's what we come for. If we have to make sleds an' usethe hunters for a dorg-team." He laughed indomitably. "We'll make a manof you yit, Rainey, afore we git back."
Lund was snatching sleep in scraps, seeking always to feel a way towardthe position of the island through the ice that continually baffledprogress. Several times they risked the schooner in a narrow lane whena lull of the often uncertain wind would have seen them ground betweenthe edges of the floe. Twice Lund ordered out the boats to save them.Once all hands fended desperately with spars to keep her clear, and onlythe schooner's overhung stern saved her rudder from the savagelyclashing masses that closed behind them.
But he showed few signs of strain. Once in a while he would sit withclosed eyes or pass his hands across his brows as if they pained him.But he never complained, and the ice, taking on the dull hues of sea andsky, gave off no glare that should affect the sight. Against allopposition Lund forced his way until, just after sunset one night, asthe dusk swept down, he gave a shout and pointed to a fitful flare overthe port bow. Rainey thought it the aurora, but Lund laughed at him.
"It's the crater atop the island," he said. "Nothin' dangerous. Reg'larlighthouse. Now, boys," he went on, his deep voice ringing withexhilaration, "there's gold in sight! Whistle for a change of weather,every mother's son of you!"
The deck was soon crowded. On the previous trip the schooner hadapproached the island from a different angle, but the men were swift toacknowledge the glow of the volcano as the expected landfall. Lundremained on deck, and it was late before any of the crew turned in.Rainey, during his watch, saw the mountain fire-pulse, glowing andwinking like the eye of a Cyclops, its gleam reflected in the eyes ofthe watchers who were about to invade the island and rob it of itsgolden sands.
The change of weather came about three in the morning, though not asLund had hoped. A sudden wind materialized from the north, stiffeningthe canvas with its ice-laden breath, glazing the schooner wherevermoisture dripped, bringing up an angry scud of clouds that fought withthe moon. The sea appeared to have thickened. The _Karluk_ wentsluggishly, as if she was sailing in a sea of treacle.
"Half slush already," said Lund. "We're in for a real cold snap.There'll be pancake ice all around us afore dawn. That is sure a hardbeach to fetch. But it's too early for winter closing. After this nipwe'll have a warm spell. An' we got to git the stuff aboard an' startkitin' south afore the big freeze-up catches us."