Read Jack Harvey's Adventures; or, The Rival Campers Among the Oyster Pirates Page 7


  CHAPTER VI THE WORKING OF THE LAW

  "Shake out the reefs and get the foresail on her," called Haley. "Lively,now, we've lost time."

  The mate repeated the order; the two available seamen began untying thereef-points, which had been knotted when sail had been shortened in thebreeze of the previous day. It was simple enough work, merely theloosening and untying of a series of square knots. Harvey had done thelike a hundred times aboard his own sloop. He hastened to assist, and didhis part as quickly as the other two. Jim Adams, somewhat surprised, eyedhim curiously.

  "You're a right smart youngster, ain't you?" he said, patronizingly."Reckon you'll be so mightily pleased you'll come again some time."

  There was something so insolent in the tone, so sheer and apparent anexulting in his power to compel the youth to do his bidding, that theblood mounted in Harvey's cheeks, and he felt his pulses beat quicker.But he went on soberly with his work, and the mate said no more.

  Ignorant of all things aboard a vessel, and too weak to work if he hadbeen skilled at it, Tom Edwards stood helplessly by. The humiliation ofhis repulse at the hands of the captain, and his dismay at the dismalprospect, overwhelmed him. He gazed at the receding shore, and groaned.

  The foresail was run up, and with that and the mainsail winged out onopposite sides, the bug-eye ran before the wind at an easy clip. Sheresponded at once to the increased spread of canvas. Her evident sailingqualities appealed to Harvey, and lifted him for the moment out of hisapprehension and distress.

  "Now you get your breakfas'," said Jim Adams, and the two sailorsshuffled aft, followed by Harvey and Tom Edwards. Harvey was hungry, withthe keen appetite of youth and health, and he seated himself with a zestat the table in the cabin. But the place would have blunted the appetiteof many a hungry man.

  It was a vile, stuffy hole, reeking, like the forecastle, with a stalefishy odour, uncleanly and shabby. A greasy smell of cooking came in fromthe galley. A tin plate and cup and a rusty knife and fork set for eachseemed never to have known the contact of soap and water. Jack Harveyrecalled the praise which his absent friend, Mr. Jenkins, had bestowedupon the quarters of the schooner, and that young gentleman'sdisparagement of the comparative accommodations of a bug-eye; and heendorsed the sentiments fully. Compared with the cabin of the schooner,the cabin of the Z. B. Brandt was, indeed, a kennel.

  There was little comfort, either, apparently, in the association of thetwo sailors. The fellow directly opposite Harvey, whom the mate hadaddressed once that morning as "Jeff," stared sullenly and dully at theyouth, with a look that was clearly devoid of interest. He was a heavyset, sluggish man of about thirty-five years, for whom hard work and illusage had blunted whatever sensibilities he may have once possessed.Evidently he was willing to bear with the treatment, and the poor foodaboard the vessel, for the small wages he would receive at the winter'send.

  The other man was slightly more prepossessing, but clearly at present notinclined to any sociability. He had a brighter eye and a face of moreexpression than his companion; though he, too, under the grinding labouraboard the oyster dredger, had come to toil day by day silently, in dumbobedience to the captain and mate. He was one Sam Black, by name,somewhat taller and larger than his comrade.

  These two paid little heed to the new arrivals. It is doubtful if theyreally took notice of their being there, in the sense that they thoughtanything about it. Life was a drudgery to them, in which it matteredlittle whether others shared or not. They scarcely spoke to each otherduring the meal, and not at all to Harvey or Tom Edwards.

  Presently there stepped out of the galley an uncouth, slovenly appearingman, who might have passed as a smaller edition of Captain HamiltonHaley, by his features. He was, in fact, of the same name, Haley, andthere was some relationship of a remote degree between them, whichaccounted for his employment aboard the vessel. He was not so stout ashis kinsman, however, and more active in his movements.

  Whatever may have been the latent abilities of Mr. George Haley in theart of cooking, they were not in evidence, nor required aboard thebug-eye. Jack Harvey and Tom Edwards were now to behold the evidence ofthat fact.

  The cook bore in his hands a greasy wooden box, that had once held smokedfish, and set it down on the table. Just what its contents consisted ofwas not at first apparent to Harvey. When, however, the two sailorsreached over with their forks, speared junks of something from the boxand conveyed them to their plates, Harvey followed their example.

  He looked at the food for a moment before he made out what it was. Itproved to be dough, kneaded and mixed with water, and a mild flavouringof molasses, and fried in lard. Harvey gazed at the mess in dismay. If itshould prove to taste as bad as it looked, it must needs be hard fare.But he observed that the sailors made away with it hungrily; so he cutoff a piece and tasted it. It was, indeed, wretched stuff, greasy andunpalatable. There was nothing else of food forthcoming, however, and hemanaged to swallow a few more mouthfuls.

  The cook came to his aid in slight measure. He reappeared, bringing apail of steaming, black liquid, the odour of which bore some slightresemblance to coffee. It was what passed for coffee aboard the bug-eye,a sorry composition of water boiled with several spoonfuls of an essenceof coffee--the flavour of which one might further disguise, if he chose,with a spoonful of black molasses from a tin can set out by the cook.

  Harvey filled his cup with alacrity, hoping to wash down the mess offried bread with the hot coffee. He made a wry face after one swallow,and looked with dismay at his companion in misery.

  "It's awful," he said, "but it's hot. You better drink some of it. Itwill warm you up."

  Tom Edwards put out a shaky hand and conveyed a cup of the stuff to hislips. He groaned as he took a swallow, and set the cup down.

  "Beastly!" he exclaimed; and added, "I never did like coffee withoutcream, anyway."

  Harvey laughed, in spite of his own disgust. "The cream hasn't comeaboard yet, I guess," he said. "But you drink that down quick. You needit."

  Like one obeying an older person, instead of a younger, Tom Edwards didas Harvey urged. He drained the cup at a draught. Then he staggered tohis feet again.

  "I can't eat that mess," he said. "Oh, but I'm feeling sick. I think I'llgo out on deck. It's cold out there, though. I don't know what to do."

  He was not long in doubt, however; for, as Harvey emerged on deck, themate approached.

  "You tell that Mister Edwards," he said, "he can jes' lie down on one ofthem parlour sofas in the fo'-castle till we gets across to Hoopers. Thenwe'll need him."

  Harvey did the errand, and the unhappy Tom Edwards made his way forwardonce more, and threw himself down in the hard bunk, pale and ill. Harveyreturned on deck. The morning was clear, and not cold for November, butthe wind sent a chill through his warm sweater, and he beat himself withhis arms, to warm up.

  "Didn't get you'self any slickers, did you, 'fore you came aboard?"inquired the mate.

  "No, sir," replied Harvey, remembering how the man had cautioned him toaddress him; "I didn't have a chance. They sailed off with me in thenight."

  The mate grinned. "That was sure enough too bad," he said, mockingly."Well, you see the old man 'bout that. He sells 'em very cheap, and asight better than they have ashore in Baltimore. Awful advantage theytake of poor sailors there. Mr. Haley, he'll fit you out, I reckon."

  They stepped aft, and the mate made known their errand.

  Haley nodded. "He'll need 'em sooner or later," he assented. "May as wellhave 'em now, as any time. Take the wheel."

  The mate assumed the captain's seat on the wheel box, and Captain Haleynodded to Harvey to follow him below. He fumbled about in a dark lockerand finally drew forth two garments--the trousers and jacket of anoil-skin suit. They were black and frayed with previous wear, theiroriginal hue of yellow being discoloured by smears and hard usage.

  "There," said Haley, holding up the slickers approvingly, "there's a suitas has been
worn once or twice, but isn't hurt any. As good as new, andgot the stiffness out of it. Cost you seven dollars to get that suit newin Baltimore. You'll get it for five, and lucky you didn't buy anyashore. There's a tarpaulin, too, that you can have for a dollar. Ioughtn't to let 'em go so cheap."

  Harvey hardly knew whether to be angry or amused. He had not shipped forthe money to be earned, to be sure, and the absurd prices for the almostworthless stuff excited his derision. But the gross injustice of thebargain made him indignant, too. He had bought oil-skins for himself,before, and knew that a good suit, new, could be had for about threedollars and a half, and a new tarpaulin for seventy-five cents. But herealized that protest would be of no avail. So he assented.

  "There's a new pair of rubber boots, too," continued Haley, producing apair that were, indeed, much nearer new than the oil-skins. "Those willcost you five dollars. They're extra reinforced; not much like thatslop-shop stuff."

  The boots thereupon became Harvey's property; likewise a thin andthreadbare old bed quilt, for the bunk in the forecastle, at an equallyextortionate price. Then a similar equipment was provided for Harvey'sfriend, Tom Edwards, the captain assuring Harvey that they would surelyfit Edwards, and he could take them forward to him.

  Suddenly the captain paused and looked at Harvey shrewdly, out of hiscold gray eyes.

  "Of course I provide all this for a man, in advance of his wages," hesaid, "when he comes aboard, like the most of 'em, without a cent; butwhen he has some money, he has to pay. Suppose he gets drowned--it's alldead loss to me. You got any money?"

  Harvey thanked his stars for Tom Edwards's precaution.

  "I've got some," he said, and began to feel in his pockets, as though hewere uncertain just how much he did have. "Here's five dollars--and let'ssee, oh, yes, I've got some loose change, sixty-three cents." He broughtforth the bill and the coins. Haley pounced on the money greedily. Heeyed Harvey with some suspicion, however.

  "Turn your pockets out," he said. "I can't afford to take chances. Let'ssee if you've been holding back any."

  Harvey did as he was ordered.

  "All right," muttered Haley. But he was clearly disappointed.

  "Can that fellow, Edwards, pay?" he asked.

  "He told me he hadn't a cent," answered Harvey, promptly. "He was robbedafter they got him drugged."

  Haley's face reddened angrily.

  "He wasn't drugged--nor robbed, either," he cried. "Don't you go talkinglike that, or you'll get into trouble. Leastwise, I don't know nothin'about it. If he was fixed with drugs, it was afore he came into my hands.I won't stand for anything like that. Get out, now, and take that stufffor'ard."

  Harvey went forward, carrying his enforced purchases. An unpleasant sightconfronted him as he neared the forecastle.

  The two men that had been brought aboard the bug-eye, stupefied, had beendragged out on deck, where they lay, blinking and dazed, but evidentlycoming once more to their senses. The mate gave an order to one of thesailors. The latter caught up a canvas bucket, to which there wasattached a rope, threw it over the side and drew it back on deck filledwith water.

  "Let's have that," said the mate.

  He snatched it from the sailor's hand, swung it quickly, and dashed thecontents full in the face of one of the prostrate men. The fellow gaspedfor breath, as the icy water choked and stung him; he half struggled tohis feet, opening his eyes wide and gazing about him with amazement. Hehad hardly come to a vague appreciation of where he was, putting hishands to his eyes and rubbing them, to free them of the salt water,before he received a second bucket-full in the face. He cried out infright and, spurred on by that and the shock of the cold water, got uponhis feet and stood, trembling and shivering. Jim Adams laughed withpleasure at the success of his treatment.

  "Awful bad stuff they give 'em in Baltimore, sometimes," he said,chuckling, as though it were a huge joke; "but this fetches 'em out of itjust like doctor's medicine. You got 'nuff, I reckon. Now you trot 'longdown into the cabin, and get some of that nice coffee, an' you'll feelpretty spry soon."

  The fellow shambled away, led by one of the crew.

  Jack Harvey, his blood boiling at the inhumanity of it, saw Jim Adams's"treatment" applied with much the same success to the other helplessprisoner; and this man, too, soon went the way of the other, for suchcomfort and stimulus as the cabin and coffee afforded. Harvey depositedhis load of clothing in the forecastle, and returned to the deck.

  In the course of some seven miles of sailing, as Harvey reckoned it, theyapproached a small island which he heard called out as Barren island.Still farther to the eastward of this, there lay a narrow stretch ofland, some two or three miles long, lying lengthwise approximately northand south. Off the shore of this, which bore the name of Upper Hooperisland, the dredging grounds now sought by the Brandt extended southwardfor some ten miles, abreast of another island, known as Middle Hooperisland.

  Preparations were at once begun to work the dredges; and Harvey watchedwith anxious interest. Here was the real labour, that he had by this timecome to look forward to with dread. He recalled the utterance of thedismal sailor aboard the schooner, "You breaks yer back at a bloodywinder;" and he saw a prospect now of the fulfilment of the man'sdescription of the work.

  In the mid-section of the bug-eye, on either side, there were set up whatlooked not unlike two huge spools. Wound around each one of these wasfathom upon fathom of dredge line. Each spool rested in a frame that wasshaped something like a carpenter's saw-horse, and, in the process ofwinding, was revolved by means of a crank at either end, worked by men atthe handles. The frame was securely bolted to the deck at the foursupports.

  Connected with each dredge line, by an iron chain, was the dredge. Thisconsisted, first, of four iron rods, coming to a point at the chain, andspread out from that in the form of a piece of cheese cut wedge-shaped,and rounded in a loop at the broad end. Fastened to this was a great meshof iron links, made like a purse, or bag, This metal bag was a capaciousaffair, made to hold more than a bushel of oysters. There were two largeriron links in the mesh, by which it could be hooked and lifted aboard,when it had been wound up to the surface of the water.

  There was a locking device on the end of the support, so that the spoolwould hold, without unwinding, when the handles were released.

  The huge spools were set up lengthwise of the vessel. On either side ofthe craft were rollers; one of these was horizontal, to drag the dredgeaboard on; one was perpendicular, for the dredge-line to run free on, asit was paid out, or drawn in, while the vessel was in motion.

  Captain Haley, at the wheel, gave his orders sharply. The sailors and JimAdams, lifting the dredges, threw them overboard on either side, and thework was begun. The bug-eye, with sheets started, took a zig-zag course,laterally across the dredging ground.

  Obeying orders, Harvey took his place at one of the handles of a winder;one of the sailors at the other. Presently appeared Jim Adams, followedby the disconsolate Tom Edwards. The latter, pale and sea-sick, seemedscarcely able to walk, much less work; but the mate led him along to thehandle of the other winder. Tom Edwards was not without making one morefeeble attempt as resistance, however.

  "See here," he said, addressing Adams, "you've got no right to force meto work here. I'm a business man, and I was brought down here by a trick,drugged. You'll pay dear for it. I warn you."

  Jim Adams grinned from ear to ear, his expansive mouth exhibiting ashining row of white teeth. He put a big, bony hand on Tom Edwards'sshoulder.

  "Don't you go worrying 'bout what I'll get, mister," he answered; andthere was a gleam of fire in his eyes as he spoke. "I reckon you might aswell know, first as last, that I don't care where we get you fellows, norhow we gets yer; nor I don't care whether you come aboard drugged orsober; nor whether you've got clothes on, nor nothin' at all. All I caresis that you's so as you can turn at this ere windlass. That's all thereis 'bout that. Now you jes' take a-hold of that handle, and do's you'retold, or you'll go overboard; and don't you
forget that."

  Tom Edwards was silent. He stood, hand upon the windlass, shivering.

  "You'll be warm 'nuff soon, I reckon," was Jim Adams's consolation.

  They got the order to wind in, presently, and the men began to turn thehandles. It was hard work, sure enough. The huge iron bags, filled withthe oysters, torn from the reefs at the bed of the bay, were heavy ofthemselves; and the strain of winding them in against the headway of thebug-eye was no boys' play.

  Harvey and his companion at their winder were strong and active, andpresently the dredge was at the surface, whence it was seized and draggedaboard. There it was emptied of its contents, a mass of shells, allshapes and sizes. Then followed the work of "culling," or sorting andthrowing overboard the oysters that were under two inches and a halflong, which the law did not allow to be kept and sold.

  "You need a pair of mittens," volunteered Harvey's working comrade, asHarvey started in to help, with bare hands. "You'll get cut and have sorehands, if you don't," he added. "The cap'n sells mittens."

  The mittens, at a price that would have made the most hardenedshop-keeper blush, were provided, and Harvey resumed work.

  The seriousness of the situation had developed in earnest. It wasdrudgery of the hardest and most bitter kind.

  "Just wait till the month is up," said Harvey, softly; "I'll cut out ofthis pretty quick. A sea experience, eh? Well, I've got enough of it inthe first half hour."

  Spurred on by the harsh commands of the mate, Tom Edwards managed to holdout for perhaps three quarters of an hour. Then he collapsed entirely;and, seeing that nothing more could be gotten out of him for the rest ofthe day, the mate suffered him to drag himself off to the forecastle.

  "But see that you're out sharp and early on deck here to-morrow morning,"said Jim Adams. "We don't have folks livin' high here for nothin'. You'lljes' work your board and lodgin', I reckon."

  Thus the day wore on, drearily. The exciting sea experience that JackHarvey had pictured to himself was not at present forthcoming; only amonotonous winding at the windlass--hard and tiring work--and the cullingof the oysters, and stowing them below in the hold from time to time. Hewas sick of it by mid-day; and, as the shades of twilight fell, he waswell nigh exhausted.

  "And only to think of this for nearly four weeks more," he groaned. "Nexttime--oh, hang it! What's the use of thinking of that? I'm in for it.I've got to go through. But won't I scoot when the month is up!"

  Toward evening, they ran up under the lee of Barren island, in what themate said was Tar Bay, and anchored for the night. Almost too wearied toeat, too wearied to listen to the commiseration of Tom Edwards, who laygroaning in his bunk, Jack Harvey tumbled in with his clothes on, and wasasleep as soon as he had stretched himself out.