michael, brother of jerry-第5章

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ll　to　admit　that　Michael's　sensations　were　not　quite　so　poignant；　say　in　the　matter　of　a　needle…thrust　through　his　foot　as　compared　with　a　needle…thrust　through　the　palm　of　a　hand。　　Also；　it　is　admitted；　when　consciousness　suffused　his　brain　with　a　thought；　that　the　thought　was　dimmer；　vaguer　than　a　similar　thought　in　a　human　brain。　　Furthermore；　it　is　admitted　that　never；　never；　in　a　million　lifetimes；　could　Michael　have　demonstrated　a　proposition　in　Euclid　or　solved　a　quadratic　equation。　　Yet　he　was　capable　of　knowing　beyond　all　peradventure　of　a　doubt　that　three　bones　are　more　than　two　bones；　and　that　ten　dogs　compose　a　more　redoubtable　host　than　do　two　dogs。

One　admission；　however；　will　not　be　made；　namely；　that　Michael　could　not　love　as　devotedly；　as　wholeheartedly；　unselfishly；　madly；　self…sacrificingly　as　a　human。　　He　did　so　lovenot　because　he　was　Michael；　but　because　he　was　a　dog。

Michael　had　loved　Captain　Kellar　more　than　he　loved　his　own　life。　No　more　than　Jerry　for　Skipper；　would　he　have　hesitated　to　risk　his　life　for　Captain　Kellar。　　And　he　was　destined；　as　time　went　by　and　the　conviction　that　Captain　Kellar　had　passed　into　the　inevitable　nothingness　along　with　Meringe　and　the　Solomons；　to　love　just　as　absolutely　this　six…quart　steward　with　the　understanding　ways　and　the　fascinating　lip…caress。　　Kwaque；　no；　for　Kwaque　was　black。　　Kwaque　he　merely　accepted；　as　an　appurtenance；　as　a　part　of　the　human　landscape；　as　a　chattel　of　Dag　Daughtry。

But　he　did　not　know　this　new　god　as　Dag　Daughtry。　　Kwaque　called　him　〃marster〃；　but　Michael　heard　other　white　men　so　addressed　by　the　blacks。　　Many　blacks　had　he　heard　call　Captain　Kellar　〃marster。〃　　It　was　Captain　Duncan　who　called　the　steward　〃Steward。〃　　Michael　came　to　hear　him；　and　his　officers；　and　all　the　passengers；　so　call　him；　and　thus；　to　Michael；　his　god's　name　was　Steward；　and　for　ever　after　he　was　to　know　him　and　think　of　him　as　Steward。

There　was　the　question　of　his　own　name。　　The　next　evening　after　he　came　on　board；　Dag　Daughtry　talked　it　over　with　him。　　Michael　sat　on　his　haunches；　the　length　of　his　lower　jaw　resting　on　Daughtry's　knee；　the　while　his　eyes　dilated；　contracted　and　glowed；　his　ears　ever　pricking　and　repricking　to　listen；　his　stump　tail　thumping　ecstatically　on　the　floor。

〃It's　this　way；　son；〃　the　steward　told　him。　　〃Your　father　and　mother　were　Irish。　　Now　don't　be　denying　it；　you　rascal〃

This；　as　Michael；　encouraged　by　the　unmistakable　geniality　and　kindness　in　the　voice；　wriggled　his　whole　body　and　thumped　double　knocks　of　delight　with　his　tail。　　Not　that　he　understood　a　word　of　it；　but　that　he　did　understand　the　something　behind　the　speech　that　informed　the　string　of　sounds　with　all　the　mysterious　likeableness　that　white　gods　possessed。

〃Never　be　ashamed　of　your　ancestry。　　An'　remember；　God　loves　the　IrishKwaque！　　Go　fetch　'm　two　bottle　beer　fella　stop　'm　along　icey…chestis！Why；　the　very　mug　of　you；　my　lad；　sticks　out　Irish　all　over　it。〃　　（Michael's　tail　beat　a　tattoo。）　　〃Now　don't　be　blarneyin'　me。　　'Tis　well　I'm　wise　to　your　insidyous；　snugglin'；　heart…stealin'　ways。　　I'll　have　ye　know　my　heart's　impervious。　'Tis　soaked　too　long　this　many　a　day　in　beer。　　I　stole　you　to　sell　you；　not　to　be　lovin'　you。　　I　could've　loved　you　once；　but　that　was　before　me　and　beer　was　introduced。　　I'd　sell　you　for　twenty　quid　right　now；　coin　down；　if　the　chance　offered。　　An'　I　ain't　goin'　to　love　you；　so　you　can　put　that　in　your　pipe　'n'　smoke　it。〃

〃But　as　I　was　about　to　say　when　so　rudely　interrupted　by　your　'fectionate　ways〃

Here　he　broke　off　to　tilt　to　his　mouth　the　opened　bottle　Kwaque　handed　him。　　He　sighed；　wiped　his　lips　with　the　back　of　his　hand；　and　proceeded。

〃'Tis　a　strange　thing；　son；　this　silly　matter　of　beer。　　Kwaque；　the　Methusalem…faced　ape　grinnin'　there；　belongs　to　me。　　But　by　my　faith　do　I　belong　to　beer；　bottles　'n'　bottles　of　it　'n'　mountains　of　bottles　of　it　enough　to　sink　the　ship。　　Dog；　truly　I　envy　you；　settin'　there　comfortable…like　inside　your　body　that's　untainted　of　alcohol。　　I　may　own　you；　and　the　man　that　gives　me　twenty　quid　will　own　you；　but　never　will　a　mountain　of　bottles　own　you。　You're　a　freer　man　than　I　am；　Mister　Dog；　though　I　don't　know　your　name。　　Which　reminds　me〃

He　drained　the　bottle；　tossed　it　to　Kwaque；　and　made　signs　for　him　to　open　the　remaining　one。

〃The　namin'　of　you；　son；　is　not　lightly　to　be　considered。　　Irish；　of　course；　but　what　shall　it　be？　　Paddy？　　Well　may　you　shake　your　head。　　There's　no　smack　of　distinction　to　it。　　Who'd　mistake　you　for　a　hod…carrier？　　Ballymena　might　do；　but　it　sounds　much　like　a　lady；　my　boy。　　Ay；　boy　you　are。　　'Tis　an　idea。　　Boy！　　Let's　see。　Banshee　Boy？　　Rotten。　　Lad　of　Erin！〃

He　nodded　approbation　and　reached　for　the　second　bottle。　　He　drank　and　meditated；　and　drank　again。

〃I've　got　you；〃　he　announced　solemnly。　　〃Killeny　is　a　lovely　name；　and　it's　Killeny　Boy　for　you。　　How's　that　strike　your　honourableness？high…soundin'；　dignified　as　a　earl　or　。　。　。　or　a　retired　brewer。　　Many's　the　one　of　that　gentry　I've　helped　to　retire　in　my　day。〃

He　finished　his　bottle；　caught　Michael　suddenly　by　both　jowls；　and；　leaning　forward；　rubbed　noses　with　him。　　As　suddenly　released；　with　thumping　tail　and　dancing　eyes；　Michael　gazed　up　into　the　god's　face。　　A　definite　soul；　or　entity；　or　spirit…thing　glimmered　behind　his　dog's　eyes；　already　fond　with　affection　for　this　hair…grizzled　god　who　talked　with　him　he　knew　not　what；　but　whose　very　talking　carried　delicious　and　unguessable　messages　to　his　heart。

〃Hey！　　Kwaque；　you！〃

Kwaque；　squatted　on　the　floor；　his　hams　on　his　heels；　paused　from　the　rough…polishing　of　a　shell　comb　designed　and　cut　out　by　his　master；　and　looked　up；　eager　to　receive　command　and　serve。

〃Kwaque；　you　fella　this　time　now　savvee　name　stop　along　this　fella　dog。　　His　name　belong　'm　him；　Killeny　Boy。　　You　make　'm　name　stop　'm　inside　head　belong　you。　　All　the　time　you　speak　'm　this　fella　dog；　you　speak　'm　Killeny　Boy。　　Savvee？　　Suppose　'm　you　no　savvee；　I　knock　'm　block　off　belong　you。　　Killeny　Boy；　savvee！　　Killeny　Boy。　　Killeny　Boy。〃

As　Kwaque　removed　his　shoes　and　helped　him　undress；　Daughtry　regarded　Michael　with　sleepy　eyes。

〃I've　got　you；　laddy；〃　he　announced；　as　he　stood　up　and　swayed　toward　bed。　　〃I've　got　your　name；　an'　here's　your　numberI　got　that；　too：　　HIGH…STRUNG　BUT　REASONABLE。　　It　fits　you　like　the　paper　on　the　wall。

〃High…strung　but　reasonable；　that's　what　you　are；　Killeny　Boy；　high…strung　but　reasonable；〃　he　continued　to　mumble　as　Kwaque　helped　to　roll　him　into　his　bunk。

Kwaque　returned　to　his　polishing。　　His　lips　stammered　and　halted　in　the　making　of　noiseless　whispers；　as；　with　corrugated　brows　of　puzzlement；　he　addressed　the　steward：

〃Marster；　what　name　stop　'm　along　that　fella　dog？〃

〃Killeny　Boy；　you　kinky…head　man…eater；　Killeny　Boy；　Killeny　Boy；〃　Dag　Daughtry　murmured　drowsily。　　〃Kwaque；　you　black　blood…drinker；　run　n'　fetch　'm　one　fella　bottle　stop　'm　along　icey…chestis。〃

〃No　stop　'm；　marster；〃　the　black　quavered；　with　eyes　alert　for　something　to　be　thrown　at　him。　　〃Six　fella　bottle　he　finish　altogether。〃

The　steward's　sole　reply　was　a　snore。

The　black；　with　the　twisted　hand　of　leprosy　and　with　a　barely　perceptible　infiltration　of　the　same　disease　thickening　the　skin　of　the　forehead　between　the　eyes；　bent　over　his　polishing；　and　ever　his　lips　moved；　repeating　over　and　over；　〃Killeny　Boy。〃



CHAPTER　V



For　a　number　of　days　Michael　saw　only　Steward　and　Kwaque。　　This　was　because　he　was　confined　to　the　steward's　stateroom。　　Nobody　else　knew　that　he　was　on　board；　and　Dag　Daughtry；　thoroughly　aware　that　he　had　stolen　a　white　man's　dog；　hoped　to　keep　his　presence　secret　and　smuggle　him　ashore　when　the　Makambo　docked　in　Sydney。

Quickly　the　steward　learned　Michael's　pre…eminent　teachableness。　In　the　course　of　his　careful　feeding　of　him；　he　gave　him　an　occasional　chicken　bone。　　Two　lessons；　which　would　scarcely　be　called　lessons；　since　both　of　them　occurred　within　five　minutes　and　each　was　not　over　half　a　minute　in　duration；　sufficed　to　teach　Michael　that　only　on　the　floor　of　the　room　in　the　corner　nearest　the　door　could　he　chew　chicken　bones。　　Thereafter；　without　prompting；　as　a　matter　of　course　when　handed　a　bone；　he　carried　it　to　the　corner。

And　why　not？　　He　had　the　wit　to　grasp　what　Steward　desired　of　him；　he　had　the　heart　that　made　it　a　happiness　for　him　to　serve。　Steward　was　a　god　who　was　kind；　who　loved　him　with　voice　and　lip；　who　loved　him　with　touch　of　hand；　rub　of　nose；　or　enfolding　arm。　As　all　service　flourishes　in　the　soil　of　love；　so　with　Michael。　Had　Steward　commanded　him　to　forego　the　chicken　bone　after　it　was　in　the　corner；　he　would　have　served　him　by　foregoing。　　Which　is　the　way　of　the　dog；　the　only　animal　that　will　cheerfully　and　gladly；　with　leaping　body　of　joy；　leave　its　food　uneaten　in　order　to　accompany　or　to　serve　its　human　master。

Practically　all　his　waking　time　off　duty；　Dag　Daughtry　spent　with　the　imprisoned　Michael；　who；　at　command；　had　quickly　learned　to　refrain　from　whining　and　barking。　　And　during　these　hours　of　companionship　Michael　learned　many　things。　　Daughtry　found　that　he　already　understood　and　obeyed　simple　things　such　as　〃no；〃　〃yes；〃　〃get　up；〃　and　〃lie　down；〃　and　he　improved　on　them；　teaching　him；　〃Go　into　the　bunk　and　lie　down；〃　〃Go　under　the　bunk；〃　〃Bring　one　shoe；〃　〃Bring　two　shoes。〃　　And　almost　without　any　work　at　all；　he　taught　him　to　roll　over；　to　say　his　prayers；　to　play　dead；　to　sit　up　and　smoke　a　pipe　with　a　hat　on　his　head；　and　not　merely　to　stand　up　on　his　hind　legs　but　to　walk　on　them。

Then；　too；　was　the　trick　of　〃no　can　and　can　do。〃　　Placing　a　savoury；　nose…tantalising　bit　of　meat　or　cheese　on　the　edge　of　the　bunk　on　a　level　with　Michael's　nose；　Daughtry　would　simply　say；　〃No　can。〃　　Nor　would　Michael　touch　the　food　till　he　received　the　welcome；　〃Can　do。〃　　Daughtry；　with　the　〃no　can〃　still　in　force；　would　leave　the　stateroom；　and；　though　he　remained　away　half　an　hour　or　half　a　dozen　hours；　on　his　return　he　would　find　the　food　untouched　and　Michael；　perhaps；　asleep　in　the　corner　at　the　head　of　the　bunk　which　had　been　allotted　him　for　a　bed。　　Early　in　this　trick　once　when　the　steward　had　left　the　room　and　Michael's　eager　nose　was　within　an　inch　of　the　prohibited　morsel；　Kwaque；　playfully　inclined；　reached　for　the　morsel　himself　and　received　a　lacerated　hand　from　the　quick　flash　and　clip　of　Michael's　jaws。

None　of　the　tricks　that　he　was　ever　eager　to　do　for　Steward；　would　Michael　do　for　Kwaque；　despite　the　fact　that　Kwaque　had　no　touch　of　meanness　or　viciousness　in　him。　　The　point　was　that　Michael　had　been　trained；　from　his　first　dawn　of　consciousness；　to　differentiate　between　black　men　and　white　men。　　Black　men　were　always　the　servants　of　white　menor　such　had　been　his　experience；　and　always　they　were　objects　of　suspicion；　ever　bent　on　wreaking　mischief　and　requiring　careful　watching。　　The　cardinal　duty　of　a　dog　was　to　serve　his　white　god　by　keeping　a　vigilant　eye　on　all　blacks　that　came　about。

Yet　Michael　permitted　Kwaque　to　serve　him　in　matters　of　food；　water；　and　other　offices；　at　first　in　the　absence　of　Steward　attending　to　his　ship　duties；　and；　later；　at　any　time。　　For　he　realized；　without　thinking　about　it　at　all；　that　whatever　Kwaque　did　fo