Chapter XXI.A Seasick Passenger.
The good ship _Columbia_ had got fifty miles under way before Dodgeropened his eyes.
He looked about him languidly at first, but this feeling was succeededby the wildest amazement, as his eyes took in his unusualsurroundings.
He had gone to sleep on a bed--he found himself on awakening in aship's bunk.
He half arose in his birth, but the motion of the vessel and a slightfeeling of dizziness compelled him to resume a recumbent position.
"I must be dreaming," thought Dodger. "It's very queer. I am dreamingI am at sea. I suppose that explains it."
He listened and heard the swish of the waters as they beat against thesides of the vessel.
He noted the pitching of the ship, and there was an unsteady feelingin his head, such as those who have gone to sea will readily recall.
Dodger became more and more bewildered.
"If it's a dream, it's the most real dream I ever had," he said tohimself.
"This seems like a ship's cabin," he continued, looking about him. "Ithink if I got up I should be seasick. I wonder if people ever getseasick in dreams?"
There was another pitch, and Dodger instinctively clung to the edge ofhis berth, to save himself from being thrown out.
"Let me see," he said, trying to collect his scattered recollection."I went to sleep in a house uptown--a house to which Curtis Waringlured me, and then made me a prisoner. The house was somewhere nearOne Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street. Now it seems as if I was on boarda ship. How could I get here? I wish somebody would come in that Icould ask."
As no one came in, Dodger got out of the berth, and tried to stand onthe cabin floor.
But before he knew it he was staggering like one intoxicated, and hishead began to feel bad, partly, no doubt, on account of the sleepingpotion which he had unconsciously taken.
At this moment the steward entered the cabin. "Hello, young man! Haveyou got up?" he asked.
"Where am I?" asked Dodger, looking at him with a dazed expression.
"Where are you? You're on the good ship _Columbia_, to be sure?"
"Are we out to sea?"
"Of course you are."
"How far from land?"
"Well, about fifty miles, more or less, I should judge."
"How long have I been here?"
"It seems to me you have a poor memory. You came on board lastevening."
"I suppose Curtis Waring brought me," said Dodger, beginning to gethis bearings.
"There was a gentleman came with you--so the mate told me. I don'tknow his name."
"Where is the ship bound?"
"To San Francisco, around Cape Horn. I supposed you knew that."
"I never heard of the ship _Columbia_ before, and I never had any ideaof making a sea voyage."
The steward looked surprised.
"I suppose your guardian arranged about that. Didn't he tell you?"
"I have no guardian."
"Well, you'll have to ask Capt. Barnes about that. I know nothing,except that you are a passenger, and that your fare has been paid."
"My fare paid to San Francisco?" asked Dodger, more and more at sea,both mentally and physically.
"Yes; we don't take any deadheads on the _Columbia_."
"Can you tell me what time it is?"
"About twelve o'clock. Do you feel hungry?"
"N--not very," returned Dodger, as a ghastly expression came over hisface, and he tumbled back into his berth, looking very pale.
The steward smiled.
"I see how it is," he said; "you are getting initiated."
"What's that?" muttered Dodger, feebly.
"You're going to be seasick. You'll hardly be able to appear at thedinner table."
"It makes me sick to think of eating," said Dodger, feebly.
As he sank back into his berth, all thoughts of his unexpectedposition gave way to an overpowering feeling of seasickness.
He had never been tried in this way before, and he found the sensationfar from agreeable.
"If only the vessel would stop pitching," he groaned. "Oh, how happy Ishould be if I were on dry land."
But the vessel wouldn't stop--even for a minute.
The motion, on the other hand, seemed to increase, as was natural, forthey were getting farther and farther from land and were exposed tothe more violent winds that swept the open ocean.
There is something about seasickness that swallows up and draws awayall minor cares and anxieties, and Dodger was too much affected toconsider how or why it was that he so unexpectedly found himself apassenger to California.
"Lie flat on your back," said the steward. "You will feel better ifyou do."
"How long is it going to last?" groaned Dodger, feeling quitemiserable.
"Oh, you'll feel better to-morrow. I'll bring you some porridgepresently. You can get that clown, and it is better to have somethingon your stomach."
He was right. The next day Dodger felt considerably better, andventured to go upon deck. He looked about him in surprise.
There had been a storm, and the waves were white with foam.
As far as the eye could see there was a tumult and an uproar.
The ship was tossed about like a cockle shell. But the sailors wentabout their work unruffled. It was no new sight for them.
Though his head did not feel exactly right, the strong wind enteredDodger's lungs, and he felt exhilarated. His eyes brightened, and hebegan to share in the excitement of the scene.
Pacing the deck was a stout, bronzed seaman, whose dress made it cleareven to the inexperienced eyes of Dodger that he was the captain.
"Good-morning, Master Grant," he said, pleasantly. "Are you gettingyour sea legs on?"
The name was unfamiliar to Dodger, but he could see that the remarkwas addressed to him.
"Yes, sir," he answered.
"Ever been to sea before?"
"No, sir."
"You'll get used to it. Bless me, you'll stand it like an old sailorbefore we get to 'Frisco."
"Is it a long voyage, captain?" asked Dodger.
"Five months, probably. We may get there a little sooner. It dependson the winds and weather."
"Five months," said Dodger to himself, in a tone of dismay.
The captain laughed.
"It'll be a grand experience for a lad like you, Arthur!" said thecaptain, encouragingly.
Arthur! So his name was Arthur! He had just been called Master Grant,so Arthur Grant was his name on board ship.
Dodger was rather glad to have a name provided, for he had only beenknown as Dodger heretofore, and this name would excite surprise. Hehad recently felt the need of a name, and didn't see why this wouldn'tanswer his purpose as well as any other.
"I must write it down so as not to forget it," he resolved. "It wouldseem queer if I forgot my own name."
"I shouldn't enjoy it much if I were going to be seasick all thetime," he answered.
"Oh, a strong, healthy boy like you will soon be all right. You don'tlook like an invalid."
"I never was sick in my life."
"But your guardian told me he was sending you on a sea voyage for yourhealth."
"Did Mr. Waring say that?"
"Yes; didn't you know the object of your sea trip?" asked Capt.Barnes, in surprise.
"No."
"There may be some tendency to disease in your system--some hereditarytendency," said the captain, after a pause.
"Were your parents healthy?"
"They--died young," answered Dodger, hesitatingly.
"That accounts for your guardian's anxiety. However, you look strongenough, in all conscience; and if you're not healthy, you will bebefore the voyage ends."
"I don't know what I am to do for clothes," said Dodger, as a newsource of perplexity presented itself. "I can't get along with oneshirt and collar for five months."
"You will find plenty of clothes in your valise. Hasn't it been givenyou?"
"No, sir."
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"You may ask the steward for it. You didn't think your guardian wouldsend you on a five-months' voyage without a change of clothing, didyou?"
And the captain laughed heartily.
"I don't know Mr. Waring very well," said Dodger, awkwardly.
As he went downstairs to inquire about his valise, this questionhaunted him:
"Why did Curtis Waring send him on a sea voyage?"