The Young Trawler by Robert Michael Ballantyne (books to get back into reading TXT) 📖

Gunter, who had risen, staggered and fell, so that the skipper missed his aim and tumbled over him. In a moment Gunter had regained his feet and prepared for combat, but his adversary's head had struck on the side of the vessel, and he lay stunned and helpless on the deck.

Luke, who had recovered almost immediately, now assisted Gunter and Billy to raise the prostrate man. It was not an easy matter to handle one whose frame was so heavy, but with the assistance of the owner of the Coper they managed it.

"It's only a slight cut," said Billy, looking anxiously round at Trevor.

"Ay, lad, it ain't the cut or the blow as keeps him down, but the grog. Come, we must git him aboard sharp. Haul up the boat Gunter, while I stop the leak in his skull."

With a kerchief, Luke soon bound up the slight wound that the wretched man had received, and then they tried to rouse him, but the effort was in vain. David did indeed recover sufficient intelligence to be able to bellow once or twice for more grog, but he could not be brought to the condition of helping himself in any way.

"What'll we do, Luke?" asked Billy, in a tone and with a look of deep distress, as the huge form of his father lay, a scarcely animate mass, on the deck at his feet. "We _must_ get him aboard somehow."

"Never fear, Billy, my boy," said Luke, cheerfully, "we'll get him aboard somehow. It's not the first time I've had to do it. Come along, Gunter, lend a hand."

"Not I!" said Gunter, with a drunken swagger. "_I'm_ not goin' for an hour or more."

"Oh yes, you are," returned Luke, dipping one of the Coper's buckets over the side and pulling it up full of water.

"No, I ain't. Who'll make me?"

"I will," said Luke, and he sent the contents of the bucket straight into his comrade's face.

"Hooray!" shouted Billy, convulsed at once with delight and surprise at the suddenness of the act to say nothing of its violence. "Give it 'im, Luke--polish 'im off!"

Luke did not however, take the pugnacious boy's advice; instead of awaiting the attack of the enraged Gunter, he ran laughing round the capstan and defied him to catch him. Gunter soon found, after bruising his shins and elbows, and stumbling over ropes, etcetera, that the effort was hopeless, and gave it up.

"But I'll pay you off w'en I gits a hold of 'ee, Luke. You make sure o' that," he growled as he gave up the chase.

"All right, Gunter; I'll give you a chance to-morrow, lad, if you'll only bear a hand wi' the skipper just now."

Without another word Gunter, who was somewhat sobered by the cold bath, went to where the skipper lay, and attempted to raise him. Being joined by the others the skipper was rolled to the side of the vessel, and then lifted in a half-sitting position on to the rail, where he was held in the grasp of Gunter and the Coper's skipper, while Luke and Billy, jumping into the boat, hauled it close under the spot.

There was what Billy called a "nasty jobble of a sea on," so that many difficulties met in the job they had in hand. These may be best stated by the actors themselves.

"Now then, boy, haul up a bit--ever so little, there; too much; ease off a bit. Hold on!"

"All right Luke, but she pitches about so, that a feller can't hit the exact spot."

"Look out now, Gunter," said Luke; "let 'im go so as he'll come plump into my arms. Not too soon, else you'll stand a chance o' sendin' us both through the bottom of the boat."

"No, nor yet too late," cried the anxious Billy, "else he'll go flop into the sea!"

It was nervous work, for if he should go flop into the sea he would have been certain to go down like a stone.

One or two attempts were made. The boat, rising up from a hollow in the sea to a height of several feet, surged close to where the men with their drunken burden stood.

"Look out!" cried Luke, with arms extended and ten fingers in a claw-like position.

"Now then," growled Gunter.

But the treacherous wave fell short, and David Bright was on the point of being dropt into the sea when his friends' fingers clawed him back to safety.

"Better make fast a rope to him," suggested Billy, in breathless anxiety.

The skipper of the Coper acted on the advice at once, and made the end of a rope fast round Bright's waist.

Again the boat rose, surged seaward, then swooped towards the Coper, against which it would have been dashed but for the strong arms of Luke. It rose so high that the drunk man was for a moment on a level with the gunwale. It was too good a chance to be missed.

"Shove!" roared Gunter.

Over went the skipper into the arms of Luke, who lost his balance, and both rolled into the bottom of the boat as it sank into the succeeding hollow.

The danger being past, poor Billy signalised the event, and at the same time relieved his feelings, with a lusty cheer.

In a very short time Joe Davidson steered the _Evening Star_ close to their tossing boat. Billy stood ready with the painter, and the instant the sides touched, he was over the rail like a monkey and made fast.

The taking of the drunk man out of the boat was by no means so difficult as getting him into it had been. Joe, Luke, Spivin, and Zulu, as well as Billy, leaned over the side of the smack, with their ten arms extended and their fifty fingers curled like crabs' claws or grappling-irons, ready to hook on and hold on. David Bright's extended and helpless form was held in position by Gunter. When it came within reach the fifty fingers closed; the boat surged away, and David was safe, though still held in suspense over the deep.

But that was only for a moment. A good heave placed him on the vessel's rail, and another laid him on the deck.

"Brought on board his own smack like a dead pig!" muttered Gunter, whose anger at the skipper rekindled when he saw him once more in safety.

"He's fifty times better than you, even as he lies, you surly old grampus," cried Billy, with flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.

"Come, Billy," said Joe Davidson, kindly, "lend a hand, boy, to carry him below. It's a sad break-down, but remember--he's not past redemption. Come."

Four of the fishermen raised the skipper in their strong arms, and conveyed him to his own bunk, where they left him to sleep off the effects of his debauch.


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.


CONVERSE IN THE CABIN--THE TEMPTER AGAIN--AN ACCIDENT.

One night, some days after the incident just recorded, the _Evening Star_ shot her gear, in obedience to orders, on the port hand, and proceeded, with the rest of the fleet, to give a pressing invitation to those fish which inhabited that particular shoal in the North Sea known to fishermen by the name of Skimlico. The name, when properly spelt, runs thus: Schiermonik-oog. But our fishermen, with a happy disregard of orthography, and, perhaps, with an eye to that brevity which is said to be the soul of wit, prefer to call it Skimlico.

When the gear was down the men retired to their little cabin to refresh themselves with a meal and a pipe.

The skipper, who had recovered neither his spirits nor his self-respect since his recent fall, preferred to remain on deck. Billy, who had never lost either, joined the revellers below--with all the more satisfaction that Evan, the rescued mate of the _Sparrow_, was with them.

"Out o' the road, Zulu," cried Ned Spivin, pushing the cook aside, and sitting down close to the fire, "I'll have a bit o' fish."

He stuck on the end of his knife a piece of sole, out of which the life had barely departed, and held it up before the fire to roast.

"Hand me a mug o' tea, an' a biscuit, Zulu," said Joe Davidson; "fill it up, boy. I like good measure."

"Are them taters ready?" asked Luke Trevor. "An' the plum-duff? You haven't got any for us to-day, have 'ee?"

"Shut up!" cried Zulu. "How many hands you tink I've got?"

"Eight at the very least," said Spivin, "an' I can prove it."

"How you do dat?" asked Zulu, opening up his great eyes.

"Easy. Hold out your paws. Isn't that one hand?" (pointing to his left.)

"Yes."

"An' doesn't that make two hands?" (pointing to his right.)

"Yes."

"Well, ain't one hand and two hands equal to three hands, you booby? an' don't you know that monkeys have hands instead o' feet? So as you're a monkey, that's six hands. And haven't you a handsome face, an' a handsome figgur, which is eight, you grampus! Come, use one o' your many hands an' pass the biscuits."

"Sartinly!" said Zulu, at once kicking a small bit of biscuit which Spivin still held in his hand to the other end of the cabin, where it fell into the lap of Trevor, who thanked Zulu kindly, and ate it up.

"Oh! forgib me, massa," cried Zulu, in mock repentance. "I's nebber nebber do it again! But you know you ax me to use one o' my hands to pass de biskit. Well, I 'bey orders. I use 'im, an' pass de biskit on to Luke."

"Come, Ned, Zulu's more than a match for you there. Let him alone," cried Joe Davidson, "and don't be so stingy with your sugar, Zulu. Here, fill up again."

The conversation at this point became what is sometimes styled general, but was interrupted now and then, as one and another of the men dropped into the anecdotal tone, and thus secured undivided attention for a longer or shorter space according to his powers in story-telling.

"What a appetite you've got, Luke," said Joe, as he helped his comrade to a second large plateful of salt beef, potatoes, and duff.

"Hold on, Joe! I've a pretty fair appetite, but am not quite up to that."

"Nonsense, Luke, you've only got to try. A man has no notion what 'e can do till 'e tries."

"Ah, that's true," said Ned Spivin, checking a lump of salt beef on the end of his clasp-knife half way to his mouth; "did I ever tell 'ee, lads, that little hanecdote about a man we called Glutton, he was such an awful eater?"

"No, never heard on it," said several voices.

"Well, then, this is 'ow it was," said Spivin, clearing his voice. "You must know, I was once in Callyforny, where all the goold comes from. Me an' most o' my mates had runned away from our ship to the diggin's, you see, which of course none on us would have thought of doin'--oh dear no--if it hadn't bin that the skipper runned away too; so it was no use for us to