ting
listening to us in this arm-chair here--he let drive suddenly with his
stick at the floor, and roars out, 'Skunks!' . . . Made us all jump.
Vanlo's manager winks at us and asks, 'What's the matter, Captain
O'Brien?' 'Matter! matter!' the old man began to shout; 'what are you
Injuns laughing at? It's no laughing matter. It's a disgrace to human
natur'--that's what it is. I would despise being seen in the same room
with one of those men. Yes, sir!' He seemed to catch my eye like, and
I had to speak out of civility. 'Skunks!' says I, 'of course, Captain
O'Brien, and I wouldn't care to have them here myself, so you're quite
safe in this room, Captain O'Brien. Have a little something cool to
drink.' 'Dam' your drink, Egstrom,' says he, with a twinkle in his eye;
'when I want a drink I will shout for it. I am going to quit. It stinks
here now.' At this all the others burst out laughing, and out they go
after the old man. And then, sir, that blasted Jim he puts down the
sandwich he had in his hand and walks round the table to me; there was
his glass of beer poured out quite full. 'I am off,' he says--just like
this. 'It isn't half-past one yet,' says I; 'you might snatch a smoke
first.' I thought he meant it was time for him to go down to his work.
When I understood what he was up to, my arms fell--so! Can't get a man
like that every day, you know, sir; a regular devil for sailing a boat;
ready to go out miles to sea to meet ships in any sort of weather. More
than once a captain would come in here full of it, and the first thing
he would say would be, 'That's a reckless sort of a lunatic you've got
for water-clerk, Egstrom. I was feeling my way in at daylight under
short canvas when there comes flying out of the mist right under my
forefoot a boat half under water, sprays going over the mast-head, two
frightened niggers on the bottom boards, a yelling fiend at the tiller.
Hey! hey! Ship ahoy! ahoy! Captain! Hey! hey! Egstrom & Blake's man
first to speak to you! Hey! hey! Egstrom & Blake! Hallo! hey! whoop!
Kick the niggers--out reefs--a squall on at the time--shoots ahead
whooping and yelling to me to make sail and he would give me a lead
in--more like a demon than a man. Never saw a boat handled like that in
all my life. Couldn't have been drunk--was he? Such a quiet, soft-spoken
chap too--blush like a girl when he came on board. . . .' I tell you,
Captain Marlow, nobody had a chance against us with a strange ship when
Ji