*CHAPTER XIV.*
*TRIBULATIONS.*
The two men worked steadily and cheerily over the fish, sorting anddressing and packing them in salt, only leaving off long enough to eatsome bread and cheese with dry salt codfish.
"Come, boys, dinner's ready. Step up and help yourselves," said thecaptain, with his mouth full of bread and cheese, which he had made intoa sandwich for convenience and speed.
"We don't feel hungry," answered Ben, looking out from the blanket longenough to see that the captain was complacently munching his food as hesat astride of the board on which he had been dressing the fish.
"Don't feel hungry! That's queer. _I_ do, now. This salt air ought tomake you eat like a shark," exclaimed the captain, as he set his teeththrough an enormous piece of dried cod. "I'm hungry enough to eat thosemackerel raw, if there was nothing else handy."
"Oh, don't!" groaned Ralph, crawling further under the blanket, andfeeling his stomach rise up and roll over uneasily.
All the afternoon the fishermen worked over their "catch," and the boysdid not venture out from their retreat until a great splashing of watertold them that Marcus was washing the deck. Then they began to lookaround and breathe in the sea air, that seemed to bring a revival ofspirits to the boys.
Before supper-time another school of mackerel came by, and the lineswere again thrown out, and lively work recommenced.
The two boys watched the sport as the men tended their lines sodexterously, going from one to another, and keeping a fish in the aircontinually, as Ben said.
The two boys watched the sport.]
This was exciting enough to make even Ralph forget his sea-sickness forthe time; but when the "school" had passed, the work of dressingmackerel began again, and this was not at all soothing to disturbedstomachs.
"Let's go to bed, and get out of this, Ben," exclaimed Ralph in disgust.
"All right."
They tiptoed by the pile of fish that were still flapping feebly, andlooked down into the cabin. It was not an inviting place, and Ralphhesitated.
"Going to turn in, boys?" asked the captain, thrusting his knife into afish before he looked up.
"Yes, we thought of it."
"Without any supper? That will never do. Help yourselves in there.The biscuit-barrel's in the corner, and the codfish hangs right over it.Eat a good meal, and you'll feel better. There ain't nothin' equal todry codfish for turning sea-sickness."
"Thanks; but we don't feel hungry," said Ben.
"That's queer. It beats me how anybody can be out to sea and not feelhungry! Well, a night's rest will make you better, like as not. You'llsleep like a couple of tops; that is, if you've got good cleanconsciences afore God."
The boys made no reply.
"I hope you have. It's bad work being out to sea, or anywhere else, forthat matter, with anything lying heavy on your conscience. Now, I don'tpretend to be any guide for any one. I'm bad enough myself; but Ialways says every night, 'Just look me over, Lord, and if there is anybad in me'--and of course I know there is plenty of it--'forgive it, andhelp me to start better to-morrow.' It's mighty comfortin' for me toknow that He sees that I _mean_ fairer than I _do_."
After these remarks the captain finished dressing the fish he held onthe board, and the boys disappeared down the short flight of stepsleading into the cabin.
It was a close place there, and filled with odours of fish; in fact thewhole vessel seemed to be stuccoed with fish-scales.
"Are we first or second cabin passengers, Ralph?" asked Ben laughingly,"or are we steerage?"
"Steerage, sure enough!"
"Well, it isn't the worst place that ever was. I'd rather be here thanoutside there in the sea, with a shark after me," continued Ben, who wasfar more inclined than Ralph to be jolly under difficulties.
"Bad as it is, I'd rather be here than on the island camping out, withJoe Chester left behind," said Ralph.
"Yes, of course you would. If I had my fiddle here I'd cheer you up;that is, if I didn't feel kind of gone about my own stomach." And Bensat down suddenly on the captain's green chest in the corner, lookingvery pale.
It was Ralph's turn now to wait upon _him_, and putting his head out ofthe door he shouted, "Captain, where shall we sleep?"
"Oh, anywhere you've a mind to. Take the bunks if you want to. Marcusand I'll look out for ourselves."
Ralph looked sharply at the rough bed, and said, "It isn't a royalcouch, but tumble in, Ben." Ben was too sick to care where he went, andletting Ralph pull off his boots and coat, he literally tumbled in, asrequested.
Whether it was a lack of good consciences that the old captain hadspoken of, or the strangeness of their situation, or the awfulsea-sickness, the boys could not sleep. They lay and tossed in theirclose berths, listening to the "thud" and "swish" of the waves againstthe sides of the little vessel, and the creak of the yards, as thecanvas swung around in the wind.
It was a bright moonlight night, and the fishing was good, so the noiseon deck continued nearly all night, making it still more impossible forthe boys to sleep, until, their labours being over, Marcus came belowfor a nap. Rolling himself in a blanket, he dropped down in the cornerof the cabin, and in less than five minutes he was snoring loud enoughto drown the creak of the sails.
Ralph and Ben slept at last, and were only aroused in the morning by thecaptain's voice as he hailed another fishing-vessel. Marcus waspreparing breakfast, and the odour of the coffee came into the cabin totempt the boys.
"That smells good," cried Ben, throwing off his blanket. "Let's get outof this pen, Ralph, as quick as ever we can. I believe I'm hungry."
"Good!" said the captain, looking down into the little cabin, havingoverheard the exclamation. "How fare ye this morning?"
The boys answered as cheerily as they could, and hastening up on deck,they washed their faces and hands in sea water, and were ready forbreakfast.
The deck was scrubbed clean, and the sea air was pure and sweet. EvenRalph felt hungry, and the fried mackerel, with biscuits and coffee,tasted very good. The fishing was dull that day; no schools of mackerelwere to be seen, and the men busied themselves with trolling for cod andhake, or anything that would bite; and before night a long row of fishwas spread out on the top of the cabin to dry, much to the boys'disgust. The second night was passed much like the first, in trying tobecome accustomed to their close quarters; and the third was much likethe second. The only excitement was in running down schools of fish; butas this was always followed by the disagreeable work of dressing them,the dainty passengers were earnestly hoping they might not see any more.
"How long before you go ashore, captain?" asked Ben, as he walked thedeck uneasily.
"Oh, when I get my load."
"But what do you call a load?"
"Now, that's a question I never could answer. I never saw the time Icouldn't get on one more haul of fish. A smack is like an omnibus--italways has room for one more," said the captain laughing.
"You are pretty full now."
"Bless you, no! This isn't a trifle to what we ought to do. Mightypoor fishing this trip. Reckon I've got a Jonah aboard."
"A couple of them, perhaps," answered Ben, with a wink at Ralph.
"The fog is coming on," continued the captain, looking off seaward. "Weshan't be able to see our hands afore our faces to-night, like as not."
"What do you do in a fog?" asked Ralph eagerly.
"Do? why, we make the best of it, boy. What do you suppose?"
"I thought, perhaps, you went ashore, or anchored somewhere," said Ralphhesitatingly.
"Oh, you did? The fog lasts two or three weeks sometimes. No; we goahead, and catch every fish we can."
"Aren't you afraid some other vessel will run you down?"
"It would be about as bad for her as it would for us," answered thecaptain, puffing the smoke from his pipe contentedly. "I'd rather haveit pleasant; but we d
on't have the ordering of the weather, and I'vefallen into the way of making the best of things--weather and everythingelse. If it's good weather, I'm glad; if it isn't, I don't fret. Ifthe fish bite, I'm glad; if they don't, I just stay out the longer; andsooner or later I get a good load. It don't do no good to be frettin'and fussin'."
The captain's words did not cheer the boys. They felt far fromcontented at the prospect of a fog at sea; and when it came rolling inand closing down around them, hiding not only the strip of shore in thedistance, but also the island and the other vessels that were near them,they wished themselves on shore more earnestly than ever.
"We didn't bargain for this," said Ben, making a wry face at hiscompanion.
"No, nor for anything else we have had. I'd rather be in the RockyMountains," grumbled Ralph.
"So had I, or on the top of the North Pole, provided it is planted insolid ground instead of water," was Ben's laughing reply.
"I'm in earnest. I hate the sea. I'm afraid of it just as soon as itbegins to be rough. I don't see what possessed us to come to sea,"continued Ralph, peering uneasily through the fog.
"We couldn't help it, if I recollect right," said Ben. "There wasn't anyplace to run to on land, so we took to the water like musk-rats. But weare all right. Captain Dare knows everything about vessels and fogs. Iam not going to worry myself about it at any rate, unless a big stormcomes; then I suppose I would be scared enough."