michael, brother of jerry-第12章

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The　Ancient　Mariner　dreamed　back　into　the　steward's　eyes　with　a　blank；　unseeing　gaze。

〃On　the　Wide　Awake　all　the　stewards　were　young；　mere　boys；〃　he　murmured。

〃Yes；　sir；〃　Daughtry　agreed　pleasantly。　　〃From　all　you　say；　the　Wide　Awake；　with　all　its　youngsters；　was　sure　some　craft。　　Not　like　the　crowd　of　old　'uns　on　this　here　hooker。　　But　I　doubt；　sir；　that　them　youngsters　ever　played　as　clever　games　as　is　being　played　aboard　us　right　now。　　I　just　got　to　admire　the　fine　way　it's　being　done；　sir。〃

〃I'll　tell　you　something；〃　the　Ancient　Mariner　replied；　with　such　confidential　air　that　almost　Daughtry　leaned　to　hear。　　〃No　steward　on　the　Wide　Awake　could　mix　a　high…ball　in　just　the　way　I　like；　as　well　as　you。　　We　didn't　know　cocktails　in　those　days；　but　we　had　sherry　and　bitters。　　A　good　appetizer；　too；　a　most　excellent　appetizer。〃

〃I'll　tell　you　something　more；〃　he　continued；　just　as　it　seemed　he　had　finished；　and　just　in　time　to　interrupt　Daughtry　away　from　his　third　attempt　to　ferret　out　the　true　inwardness　of　the　situation　on　the　Mary　Turner　and　of　the　Ancient　Mariner's　part　in　it。　　〃It　is　mighty　nigh　five　bells；　and　I　should　be　very　pleased　to　have　one　of　your　delicious　cocktails　ere　I　go　down　to　dine。〃

More　suspicious　than　ever　of　him　was　Daughtry　after　this　episode。　But；　as　the　days　went　by；　he　came　more　and　more　to　the　conclusion　that　Charles　Stough　Greenleaf　was　a　senile　old　man　who　sincerely　believed　in　the　abiding　of　a　buried　treasure　somewhere　in　the　South　Seas。

Once；　polishing　the　brasswork　on　the　hand…rails　of　the　cabin　companionway；　Daughtry　overheard　the　ancient　one　explaining　his　terrible　scar　and　missing　fingers　to　Grimshaw　and　the　Armenian　Jew。　　The　pair　of　them　had　plied　him　with　extra　drinks　in　the　hope　of　getting　more　out　of　him　by　way　of　his　loosened　tongue。

〃It　was　in　the　longboat；〃　the　aged　voice　cackled　up　the　companion。　〃On　the　eleventh　day　it　was　that　the　mutiny　broke。　　We　in　the　sternsheets　stood　together　against　them。　　It　was　all　a　madness。　We　were　starved　sore；　but　we　were　mad　for　water。　　It　was　over　the　water　it　began。　　For；　see　you；　it　was　our　custom　to　lick　the　dew　from　the　oar…blades；　the　gunwales；　the　thwarts；　and　the　inside　planking。　　And　each　man　of　us　had　developed　property　in　the　dew…　collecting　surfaces。　　Thus；　the　tiller　and　the　rudder…head　and　half　of　the　plank　of　the　starboard　stern…sheet　had　become　the　property　of　the　second　officer。　　No　one　of　us　lacked　the　honour　to　respect　his　property。　　The　third　officer　was　a　lad；　only　eighteen；　a　brave　and　charming　boy。　　He　shared　with　the　second　officer　the　starboard　stern…sheet　plank。　　They　drew　a　line　to　mark　the　division；　and　neither；　lapping　up　what　scant　moisture　fell　during　the　night…hours；　ever　dreamed　of　trespassing　across　the　line。　They　were　too　honourable。

〃But　the　sailorsno。　　They　squabbled　amongst　themselves　over　the　dew…surfaces；　and　only　the　night　before　one　of　them　was　knifed　because　he　so　stole。　　But　on　this　night；　waiting　for　the　dew；　a　little　of　it；　to　become　more；　on　the　surfaces　that　were　mine；　I　heard　the　noises　of　a　dew…lapper　moving　aft　along　the　port…　gunwalewhich　was　my　property　aft　of　the　stroke…thwart　clear　to　the　stern。　　I　emerged　from　a　nightmare　dream　of　crystal　springs　and　swollen　rivers　to　listen　to　this　night…drinker　that　I　feared　might　encroach　upon　what　was　mine。

〃Nearer　he　came　to　the　line　of　my　property；　and　I　could　hear　him　making　little　moaning；　whimpering　noises　as　he　licked　the　damp　wood。　　It　was　like　listening　to　an　animal　grazing　pasture…grass　at　night　and　ever　grazing　nearer。

It　chanced　I　was　holding　a　boat…stretcher　in　my　handto　catch　what　little　dew　might　fall　upon　it。　　I　did　not　know　who　it　was；　but　when　he　lapped　across　the　line　and　moaned　and　whimpered　as　he　licked　up　my　precious　drops　of　dew；　I　struck　out。　　The　boat…　stretcher　caught　him　fairly　on　the　noseit　was　the　bo's'nand　the　mutiny　began。　　It　was　the　bo's'n's　knife　that　sliced　down　my　face　and　sliced　away　my　fingers。　　The　third　officer；　the　eighteen…　year…old　lad；　fought　well　beside　me；　and　saved　me；　so　that；　just　before　I　fainted；　he　and　I；　between　us；　hove　the　bo's'n's　carcass　overside。〃

A　shifting　of　feet　and　changing　of　positions　of　those　in　the　cabin　plunged　Daughtry　back　into　his　polishing；　which　he　had　for　the　time　forgotten。　　And；　as　he　rubbed　the　brass…work；　he　told　himself　under　his　breath：　　〃The　old　party's　sure　been　through　the　mill。　Such　things　just　got　to　happen。〃

〃No；〃　the　Ancient　Mariner　was　continuing；　in　his　thin　falsetto；　in　reply　to　a　query。　　〃It　wasn't　the　wounds　that　made　me　faint。　　It　was　the　exertion　I　made　in　the　struggle。　　I　was　too　weak。　　No；　so　little　moisture　was　there　in　my　system　that　I　didn't　bleed　much。　And　the　amazing　thing；　under　the　circumstances；　was　the　quickness　with　which　I　healed。　　The　second　officer　sewed　me　up　next　day　with　a　needle　he'd　made　out　of　an　ivory　toothpick　and　with　twine　he　twisted　out　of　the　threads　from　a　frayed　tarpaulin。〃

〃Might　I　ask；　Mr。　Greenleaf；　if　there　were　rings　at　the　time　on　the　fingers　that　were　cut　off？〃　Daughtry　heard　Simon　Nishikanta　ask。

〃Yes；　and　one　beauty。　　I　found　it　afterward　in　the　boat　bottom　and　presented　it　to　the　sandalwood　trader　who　rescued　me。　　It　was　a　large　diamond。　　I　paid　one　hundred　and　eighty　guineas　for　it　to　an　English　sailor　in　the　Barbadoes。　　He'd　stolen　it；　and　of　course　it　was　worth　more。　　It　was　a　beautiful　gem。　　The　sandalwood　man　did　not　merely　save　my　life　for　it。　　In　addition；　he　spent　fully　a　hundred　pounds　in　outfitting　me　and　buying　me　a　passage　from　Thursday　Island　to　Shanghai。〃


〃There's　no　getting　away　from　them　rings　he　wears；〃　Daughtry　overheard　Simon　Nishikanta　that　evening　telling　Grimshaw　in　the　dark　on　the　weather　poop。　　〃You　don't　see　that　kind　nowadays。　They're　old；　real　old。　　They're　not　men's　rings　so　much　as　what　you'd　call；　in　the　old…fashioned　days；　gentlemen's　rings。　　Real　gentlemen；　I　mean；　grand　gentlemen；　wore　rings　like　them。　　I　wish　collateral　like　them　came　into　my　loan　offices　these　days。　They're　worth　big　money。〃


〃I　just　want　to　tell　you；　Killeny　Boy；　that　maybe　I'll　be　wishin'　before　the　voyage　is　over　that　I'd　gone　on　a　lay　of　the　treasure　instead　of　straight　wages；〃　Dag　Daughtry　confided　to　Michael　that　night　at　turning…in　time　as　Kwaque　removed　his　shoes　and　as　he　paused　midway　in　the　draining　of　his　sixth　bottle。　　〃Take　it　from　me；　Killeny；　that　old　gentleman　knows　what　he's　talkin'　about；　an'　has　been　some　hummer　in　his　days。　　Men　don't　lose　the　fingers　off　their　hands　and　get　their　faces　chopped　open　just　for　nothingnor　sport　rings　that　makes　a　Jew　pawnbroker's　mouth　water。〃



CHAPTER　XI



Before　the　voyage　of　the　Mary　Turner　came　to　an　end；　Dag　Daughtry；　sitting　down　between　the　rows　of　water…casks　in　the　main…hold；　with　a　great　laugh　rechristened　the　schooner　〃the　Ship　of　Fools。〃　But　that　was　some　weeks　after。　　In　the　meantime　he　so　fulfilled　his　duties　that　not　even　Captain　Doane　could　conjure　a　shadow　of　complaint。

Especially　did　the　steward　attend　upon　the　Ancient　Mariner；　for　whom　he　had　come　to　conceive　a　strong　admiration；　if　not　affection。　　The　old　fellow　was　different　from　his　cabin…mates。　They　were　money…lovers；　everything　in　them　had　narrowed　down　to　the　pursuit　of　dollars。　　Daughtry；　himself　moulded　on　generously　careless　lines；　could　not　but　appreciate　the　spaciousness　of　the　Ancient　Mariner；　who　had　evidently　lived　spaciously　and　who　was　ever　for　sharing　the　treasure　they　sought。

〃You'll　get　your　whack；　steward；　if　it　comes　out　of　my　share；〃　he　frequently　assured　Daughtry　at　times　of　special　kindness　on　the　latter's　part。　　〃There's　oodles　of　it；　and　oodles　of　it；　and；　without　kith　or　kin；　I　have　so　little　time　longer　to　live　that　I　shall　not　need　it　much　or　much　of　it。〃

And　so　the　Ship　of　Fools　sailed　on；　all　aft　fooling　and　befouling；　from　the　guileless…eyed；　gentle…souled　Finnish　mate；　who；　with　the　scent　of　treasure　pungent　in　his　nostrils；　with　a　duplicate　key　stole　the　ship's　daily　position　from　Captain　Doane's　locked　desk；　to　Ah　Moy；　the　cook；　who　kept　Kwaque　at　a　distance　and　never　whispered　warning　to　the　others　of　the　risk　they　ran　from　continual　contact　with　the　carrier　of　the　terrible　disease。

Kwaque　himself　had　neither　thought　nor　worry　of　the　matter。　　He　knew　the　thing　as　a　thing　that　occasionally　happened　to　human　creatures。　　It　bothered　him；　from　the　pain　standpoint；　scarcely　at　all；　and　it　never　entered　his　kinky　head　that　his　master　did　not　know　about　it。　　For　the　same　reason　he　never　suspected　why　Ah　Moy　kept　him　so　at　a　distance。　　Nor　had　Kwaque　other　worries。　　His　god；　over　all　gods　of　sea　and　jungle；　he　worshipped；　and；　himself　ever　intimately　allowed　in　the　presence；　paradise　was　wherever　he　and　his　god；　the　steward；　might　be。

And　so　Michael。　　Much　in　the　same　way　that　Kwaque　loved　and　worshipped　did　he　love　and　worship　the　six…quart　man。　　To　Michael　and　Kwaque；　the　daily；　even　hourly；　recognition　and　consideration　of　Dag　Daughtry　was　tantamount　to　resting　continuously　in　the　bosom　of　Abraham。　　The　god　of　Messrs。　Doane；　Nishikanta；　and　Grimshaw　was　a　graven　god　whose　name　was　Gold。　　The　god　of　Kwaque　and　Michael　was　a　living　god；　whose　voice　could　be　always　heard；　whose　arms　could　be　always　warm；　the　pulse　of　whose　heart　could　be　always　felt　throbbing　in　a　myriad　acts　and　touches。

No　greater　joy　was　Michael's　than　to　sit　by　the　hour　with　Steward　and　sing　with　him　all　songs　and　tunes　he　sang　or　hummed。　　With　a　quantity　or　pitch　even　more　of　genius　or　unusualness　in　him　than　in　Jerry；　Michael　learned　more　quickly；　and　since　the　way　of　his　education　was　singing；　he　came　to　sing　far　beyond　the　best　Villa　Kennan　ever　taught　Jerry。

Michael　could　howl；　or　sing；　rather　（because　his　howling　was　so　mellow　and　so　controlled）；　any　air　that　was　not　beyond　his　register　that　Steward　elected　to　sing　with　him。　　In　addition；　he　could　sing　by　himself；　and　unmistakably；　such　simple　airs　as　〃Home；　Sweet　Home；〃　〃God　save　the　King；〃　and　〃The　Sweet　By　and　By。〃　　Even　alone；　prompted　by　Steward　a　score　of　feet　away　from　him；　could　he　lift　up　his　muzzle　and　sing　〃Shenandoah〃　and　〃Roll　me　down　to　Rio。〃

Kwaque；　on　stolen　occasions　when　Steward　was　not　around；　would　get　out　his　Jews'　harp　and　by　the　sheer　compellingness　of　the　primitive　instrument　make　Michael　sing　with　him　the　barbaric　and　devil…devil　rhythms　of　King　William　Island。　　Another　master　of　song；　but　one　in　whom　Michael　delighted；　came　to　rule　over　him。　This　master's　name　was　Cocky。　　He　so　introduced　himself　to　Michael　at　their　first　meeting。

〃Cocky；〃　he　said　bravely；　without　a　quiver　of　fear　or　flight；　when　Michael　had　charged　upon　him　at　sight　to　destroy　him。　　And　the　human　voice；　the　voice　of　a　god；　issuing　from　the　throat　of　the　tiny；　snow…white　bird；　had　made　Michael　go　back　on　his　haunches；　while；　with　eyes　and　nostrils；　he　quested　the　steerage　for　the　human　who　had　spoken。　　And　there　was　no　human　。　。　。　only　a　small　cockatoo　that　twisted　his　head　impudently　and　sidewise　at　him　and　repeated；　〃Cocky。〃

The　taboo　of　the　chicken　Michael　had　been　well　taught　in　his　earliest　days　at　Meringe。　　Chickens；　esteemed　by　MISTER　Haggin　and　his　white…god　fellows；　were　things　that　dogs　must　even　defend　instead　of　ever　attack。　　But　this　thing；　itself　no　chicken；　with　the　seeming