Ralph Denham's Adventures in Burma: A Tale of the Burmese Jungle Read online

  CHAPTER II

  A GALE

  It was of little use for Captain Rogers to trouble himself in the hopeof avoiding jealousy of Ralph on the part of the other apprentices, forthe feeling was already rife on the part of Kirke.

  That ill-conditioned young man despised everyone on board for not beingmen of good family, as he himself was, though he was more conscious ofhis good birth than careful to prove himself a gentleman by his conduct.He could not see why he should be made to work, and the son of amerchant's book-keeper, a lad whose mother let lodgings for her support,should be cockered up in the captain's cabin, reading and writing at hisease, practically exempt from hard toil.

  Ralph had not enjoyed a tenth part of the educational advantages whichKirke had thrown away, and was anxious to improve himself now that achance of doing so was presented.

  Mr. Gilchrist was teaching him mathematics and French, lending him booksupon botany and natural history, especially such as treated of thecountry for which he was bound, and also a few volumes of history andtravels. He taught him much by conversation upon these subjects; andRalph, feeling that he had one foot planted upon the social ladder,earnestly desiring to rise higher, flung himself enthusiastically intothese studies as a means for so doing. His uncle did not demand muchmanual labour from him; he performed that cheerfully, but saw no reasonwhy, his allotted task being done, he should occupy his own time insaving Kirke from doing his share of duty.

  There was no great good-feeling between these lads; and Harry Jackson,the third apprentice, was a weak, ordinary sort of boy, who admiredKirke for his adventitious graces, and had become completely his tool.

  The three boys all slept in part of a deckhouse amidships, a placedivided between the galley and the apprentices' cabin. The ship being anold one, there were no berths for the youngsters, who slept in hammocksslung up at night, and taken down in the morning, rolled up, and stowedaway to make room for their meals and accommodation through the day.

  Ralph breakfasted with the other two apprentices, their hours beingearlier than those of his uncle's cabin. After this meal, he did whatwork was expected from him, and liked to be clean and ready by the timewhen Mr. Gilchrist could attend to him in the poop, where chiefly hespent the remainder of the day.

  One morning Ralph awoke suddenly, experiencing a very disagreeableshock. The time-honoured joke of letting his hammock down at the headhad been played upon him, and Kirke lay comfortably on his own bedsquirting water all over him.

  "Have done, Kirke!" he cried angrily. "How would you like to be servedso?"

  "Try it on if you dare," retorted Kirke, aiming a stream of water rightinto his face. "I only wish you would try it on, just once, and youwould see. Get up! You must swab the decks to-day, I did it yesterday."

  "Drop that squirt, I tell you!" roared Ralph, as his shirt was madedripping wet, and a fresh supply of water was drawn into the tube fromthe basin which Kirke held between his knees.

  Kirke's only reply was another jet, which streamed down Ralph's back.

  Ralph sprang upon his tormentor, and a struggle took place forpossession of the squirt. The tin basin was upset all over thebedclothes, but Denham flung it away and seized hold of the squirt.

  Indignation gave him superior strength, he wrenched the instrument outof Kirke's hands, and Kirke drove his clenched fist, straight from hisshoulder, into Ralph's face and hit him in the eye.

  Fireworks flashed before his vision, and he proceeded to revenge himselfin a fair fight; but Jackson ran screaming out of the cabin upon seeingRalph pitch Kirke out of his hammock as a preliminary, and called to themate on the watch.

  "Mr. Denham is fighting Mr. Kirke," cried he, "and has upset a basin ofwater all over him in his hammock."

  The mate came in.

  "Now, my lads," commanded he, "just you understand that I'll allow norowdy work of that sort. Shut up at once, both of you."

  It was the voice of authority, and Ralph scorned to tell tales, so hedesisted, pulled a dry shirt out of his chest, and went on deck as soonas he could.

  Being a good-natured lad, his anger had then cooled down, and he beganto swab the deck, thinking that it would act as a peace-offering to giveKirke the help voluntarily.

  Kirke came out slowly and moodily, but did not begin to work on hispart. He stood with his hands in his pockets, a sneer conquering thelowering gloom on his face.

  "I am glad you know your place at last," said he, as Ralph came nearhim. "I'll teach you a little more before I have done with you."

  Ralph bit his lip to force down an angry reply. He did not want toquarrel with anyone, as that might give his uncle trouble, but it was asmuch as he could do to keep silence.

  At this moment the captain himself stepped out.

  "Ralph!" shouted he. "Have you seen my three-foot rule? I can't findit."

  "I know where it is," replied he. "I'll fetch it."

  "What are you swabbing the deck for?" asked his uncle. "Why are you notdoing your own work, Kirke? I'll have no shirking. Set to at once!Ralph, I want you in my cabin."

  Kirke had no option but to take up the bucket and begin the menial workwhich he hated so fiercely.

  "Mr. Gilchrist is not well," said the captain. "I hope he is not in foran attack of dysentery, but he is certainly very poorly. I havepersuaded him to lie still, and I wish you would put yourself tidy andcome and attend to him. Go to the storehouse and get out some brandy forhim. Here are the keys. I am wanted on deck to see about twenty thingsall at once."

  Ralph hastened to obey. The ship was victualled upon teetotalprinciples, but a little spirit was kept for cases of emergency orillness. None had been used hitherto upon this voyage, and the decanterswere empty.

  Ralph opened the locker where the bottles were stored, took out somebrandy, filled one of the little decanters which stood in a silver case,and hurried with it to the invalid's cabin, leaving everything open inthe storeroom, for the moment, from his haste to relieve his friend.

  Mr. Gilchrist was very unwell indeed. He said that he was subject tothese attacks at times; he did not believe that this was dysentery, hehad taken a chill and should be better soon.

  Ralph procured some hot water and prepared the cordial for him, but hewas sick at once after taking it; he shivered violently, his teethchattering in his head. This frightened his young nurse very much, forthey were now in latitudes where the heat was great; no doctor was onboard, and he knew little about illness.

  However, the patient was better after a time, the sickness ceased, theheadache was lessened, a gentle perspiration broke out, and he fellasleep.

  Ralph ventured to steal softly away, and went to lock up the spiritbottles in the storeroom. There he found, to his surprise, that not onlythe one which he had opened was quite empty, but one of brandy and oneof rum were missing.

  He called his uncle, who, holding strong opinions upon the subject oftemperance, was very angry. He made a strict investigation into thematter, but failed to discover the culprit. The bottles weregone--vanished; nobody would confess to knowing anything about them.

  Captain Rogers was very uneasy in his secret mind, for appearances wereagainst Ralph. No one else had been trusted with the keys, and thespirit could not have gone without hands. He knew very little personallyabout his nephew, being so much at sea himself. He only saw him at longintervals, and in the presence of others; he seemed a steady boy then,and Rogers liked him, but this was the first chance he had met with uponwhich he could have gone wrong, in this manner, to his uncle'sknowledge. With this doubt about him, the captain spoke very sharply toRalph as to his carelessness in leaving the locker open.

  Mr. Gilchrist took Ralph's part. He said that he must have smelt theliquor upon the boy's breath had he drunk it, but the captain knew thatabout Ralph's family history which he did not choose to talk about.

  Ralph called himself a strict teetotaler, which the captain was not; butthe elder Denham had been a drunkard, and had died from the consequenceof his excesses. Had the madn
ess broken out in his son? Did he inheritit in his blood? Had it taken that worst of all forms--secret drinking?He knew what his sister had suffered from her husband's conduct; was thesame thing to begin all over again in the person of her son?

  For two days the captain was miserable from this unspoken fear. Ralphhad all the appearance of truth and honesty; Mr. Gilchrist was stronglyin favour of his innocence; but the mate remarked that nobody but Mr.Denham had been trusted with the keys of the locker, not even the cookor the cook's mate, who, between them, discharged the functions ofsteward.

  For two wretched, suspicious, anxious days did this doubt cark at thecaptain's heart. Then was little Harry Jackson found drunk--drunk as alord--late one evening when off his watch.

  Fresh investigations were set on foot, and it appeared that Kirke hadgiven the boy some liquor as a bribe for silence regarding his ownpotations, of which Jackson could not fail to know as they shared thesame cabin. Denham had not slept there since Mr. Gilchrist's illness,for he was still unwell, though better; and Ralph had begged to beallowed a bed upon the floor of his cabin, so as to attend upon him ifnecessary through the night.

  Taking advantage of his absence, Kirke had been enjoying himself, afterhis own fashion, with the stolen spirits, and inducing Harry to join himso as to ensure his silence.

  The elder lad's head could already stand copious libations, but that ofthe younger one could not, and the very means adopted to secure safetyled to detection.

  The captain, deeply annoyed with himself for suspecting his own nephew,highly wrathful for the trouble thus caused to him, punished Kirke allthe more severely, to give him, as he said, "a lesson which he would notforget in a hurry." Ralph tried to beg him off, but his uncle was in arage and refused to listen to him.

  Kirke might have had all the blood of all the Howards running in hisveins so great was his anger at his punishment, and he vowed to himselfto abscond from the ship as soon as it touched shore, nor ever to runthe risk of such ignominy again.

  Things were very uncomfortable after this event for Denham. Hisannoyance while it was pending had been great, it had made himpositively unhappy. He felt himself to blame for carelessness in leavingthe locker open; he was indignant that the real culprit should cast theonus upon him, knowing him to be perfectly innocent; and he thought thathis uncle should have trusted him better. At least he should have sparedhis own nephew from the charge of dishonesty.

  He could not be as friendly as before with either Kirke or Jackson, andfelt very lonely.

  Mr. Gilchrist continued to be very unwell, unable to talk to him asusual. He had to pursue his studies without help; difficulties besethim; and the other apprentices made themselves extremely disagreeable,keeping up a constant system of petty persecution which rendered life intheir cabin almost unendurable, yet of which he scorned to complain tothe captain, each separate annoyance being so trivial.

  Besides this, the wind increased in strength, and so severe a gale fromthe westward set in that the _Pelican_ had to scud before it under barepoles.

  For two days there was cause for considerable anxiety, then the mercuryrose, a calm clear night succeeded, followed by a bright sunny morning.

  "I hope the gale is over," said Ralph, coming into the deckhouse andgreeting the other lads cheerfully.

  "I daresay you do," growled Kirke. "Counter-jumpers and land-lubbersfunk a capful of wind mightily."

  "I think we have had rather more than a capful these last two days,"replied Ralph, ignoring the insulting language.

  "You manage to shirk all the trouble it causes, anyway. I don't see thatyou need complain," said Kirke with a sneer.

  Ralph was silent. He finished his breakfast quickly and went out.

  The men were letting all the reefs out of the topsails, and getting thetop-gallant yards across, in hopes of a fine day in which to make themost of the favourable gale.

  It was a bright, bustling scene, and Ralph was amused by looking on.

  The old carpenter stood by him. This man and the sailmaker both camefrom the same country village in Cornwall where Captain Rogers andRalph's mother had been born. They always sailed with the captain, ifpossible, from clannish attachment to him; and loved a chat with Ralphfrom the same feeling.

  "Nice day, Wills," said the boy.

  "'Ees, zur, but it won't last," said the carpenter.

  "'Lamb's wool skies, and filley's tails, Make lofty ships carry low sails,'"

  and he pointed to the drifting clouds.

  "That is it, is it?" said Ralph. "Are we not having rather a bad voyage,Wills? Do ships always have so much bad weather as we are meeting with?"

  "No, zur, but uz sailed on a Vriday."

  "What could that have to do with it, Wills? Why should that bring badluck?"

  "Can't zay, zur, but it du."

  "You Cornishmen are always superstitious, aren't you?"

  "Doan't knaw, your honour, as we'm more so than others. 'Tis no use tofly in the face of Providence ef He've given we the gumption to zeemore'n other volks."

  "Did you ever see the Flying Dutchman in these latitudes, Wills?"

  "No, zur, I can't zay as I have zeed 'un, but 'tain't given to everychield to do so. I've zeed Jack Harry's Lights, though, and we worwrecked then, too."

  "Where was that?" asked Ralph with interest.

  "Close to home, it wor. We heerd the bells of the old church-towera-calling the volks to evening service all the time we was clinging tothe maintop, and the gear flying in ribbons about our faces, a-lashinguz like whips, and all of uz as worn't fast tied to the mast swept awayby the sea that awful Sunday night. Jim Pascoe wor lashed aside of me,and 'Sam,' zays he, 'I wonder whether my old mawther be a-praying for meat this minute, up to church.' It didn't save he even ef she wor, for abig sea rose up, and came thundering down on uz, and he got the fullheft of it right upon him, so that it beat the last spunk of life out ofhim then and there. There wor but six of uz, out of twenty-one, broughtashore that time alive; and there wor but life, and that wor all, amongsome of we."

  "How dreadful!" cried Ralph. "What did you think about while you stoodthere all that time?"

  "I doan't knaw as I did think much, at all. Zemmed as ef all thoughtwor beat out of uz. But they there seamen as wor drownded then answer totheir names still on a stormy night when the wind blows strong from thewest upon thiccee rocks."

  "Answer to their names?"

  "Ay. You may hear the roll called out, and they men answer 'Here' asplain as you can wish, at midnight, in the heft of a storm."

  "Do you really believe that? Did you ever hear it, Wills?"

  "Well I can't zay as ever I actually heerd 'un call them, but I knawsthey as has; and why for no', Maister Ralph. Perhaps 'ee'll believe I,and find that I speak truth, when I tell 'ee this voyage is doomed to beunfortunate because we set sail on a Vriday. I telled captain it wouldbe, but he wouldn't wait for Sunday though I did beg and pray 'un to doso."

  "I can't see what difference two days could make. It would not havesaved us the weather we had two days since, nor will it make anydifference in whatever may come two days hence."

  "Theer's a-many things as 'ee be too young to onnerstand yet, MaisterDenham."

  "But 'ee did ought to pay heed to 'un, maister," put in Osborn, "because'ee be Cornish the same as we."

  "I have never been in Cornwall, though, Osborn."

  "No, I du knaw thiccee, more's the pity," replied the man. "But uz dumind your ma, when hur wor a mighty pretty little maid, a-dancing anda-singing about 'long shore, and a-chattering so gay. Uz du all comefrom the same place, zur, and we'm proud to knaw 'ee, and to have 'ee onboard, ef it be but for the trip. 'Tis one and all to home, 'ee knaweth,zur."

  "Yes," laughed Ralph. "I am proud enough of my Cornish blood, and wouldlike to know more of the good old county, though I fear it will be longbefore I shall have the chance. You know I am going to Rangoon, to pushmy way and try to help my mother. She does not dance nor sing much inthese days. She has a lot of tr
ouble."

  "So we've heerd, zur. Poor little Miss Amy, we be main sorry to think ofit. Ef Wills or me can ever be of any service to 'ee, zur, 'ee must lookout for uz when the _Pelican_ comes to Rangoon. We shall always stick tocap'n, zur, as we've done for many a day. Uz b'ain't likely to leave 'unto be sarved by any old trade picked up out of the slums."

  "That is well; and if I can help either of you at any time, you maydepend upon me. It is a bargain between us," said Ralph, laughing.

  The appearance of fine weather was delusive, for the bright sunshinechanged within a few hours to fog and rain. The wind sprang up again,and the captain was forced to order the mainsail to be hauled in, thetopsails close reefed, and the top-gallant yards struck.

  The mercury fell, the gale increased in force, and the sea ran extremelyhigh. There was a sharp frost in the night, with snow, and the storm wasas furious as ever next morning.

  The hatches had to be battened down, and it was dreadful for Mr.Gilchrist and Ralph, wholly inexperienced in nautical matters, unable tosee or understand what was going on, or what degree of danger there was,to hear the raging of the elements, while they were in the dark withnothing to distract their thoughts.

  There they were, Mr. Gilchrist in his berth, coughing incessantly, andRalph sitting beside him, listening to the tramp of hurried feet and theshouting voices overhead. The great sea would strike the poor labouringvessel with a force that caused it to shudder in every straining timber;it would seem to be tossed on high, and then plunge into fathomlessdeeps, as if sinking to the very bottom of the sea. Tons of water came,ever and anon, rushing overhead. Did this mean that their last hour hadarrived? Were they to be drowned in this awful darkness, like rats in ahole? Were they never to see God's light of day again, or look once moreover the fair expanse of sea and sky?

  They grasped each other's hands at these times, for touch was the onlycomfort which companionship could give. They could not talk,--aweparalysed speech.

  Then the volumes of water seemed to drain off in descending streamsthrough the scupper-holes, and voices would be heard again, and a fewsentences of prayer would break from Mr. Gilchrist's lips.

  This lasted for two days, awful days for these poor prisoners; but thewind was in their favour, and blew them on their way, though a littletoo far southwards, and it moderated in course of time.

  The captain had the dead-lights removed, the hatches raised, and camedown to see how his passengers had fared.

  "I never could have believed that light and air would be so welcome,"said Ralph; "and it is but a Scotch mist yet, no pleasant sunshine."

  "No," replied the captain, "but you will soon have enough of sunshinenow. Perhaps you may even have too much of it one of these days. We havelost poor little Jackson," continued he, turning to Mr. Gilchrist.

  "What! the boy apprentice?" asked he.

  "Ay, poor child! Washed overboard in the night, and one of the seamenyesterday morning. We could not help either of them, the sea wasrunning so high. Would you like to come up for a bit and see the wavesfor yourself now?"

  But Mr. Gilchrist declined. He dreaded bringing on one of his paroxysmsof cough more than the closeness and confinement of the cabin; butRalph, shocked by his uncle's announcement, was eager to go on deck.

  He was not used to death, and it was very awful to him to think that,while he sat in comparative safety below, yet fearing for his own deathevery moment, this boy, so much younger than himself, had passedsuddenly through a watery grave to the portals of that unknown worldwhere he must meet his God.

  Where was he now? What could he be doing? He seemed as unfit for aspiritual life as anyone whom Ralph had ever met. A mere troublesomenaughty boy, of the most ordinary type; rough, dirty, hungry,--a boy whocould laugh at a coarse joke, use bad words, shirk his work whenever hehad the chance, and who did nothing except idle play in his leisuretime.

  What could he be doing among white-robed angels, among the spirits ofgood men made perfect, among cherubim and seraphim, with their pureeyes, around the Father's throne? Yet had God taken him.

  The mysteries of life and death came home, in a vivid light, to Ralph'ssoul, as he stood holding on to a rope, and gazing down on that boilingsea, whence he dreaded, every moment, to see his young companion's whiteface looking up at him.

  Kirke came by, and Denham's good heart prompted him to turn round andoffer him his hand. Little Jackson had run after Kirke like a dog,admired, followed, idolised him, and Ralph thought he must be as muchimpressed as himself by this awful event.

  So he put out his hand, saying--

  "Oh, Kirke, I am so sorry to hear about Jackson!"

  "Bother you and your sorrow! I wish it had been you," replied Kirkerudely.

  Ralph turned away in silence. He, too, almost wished it had beenhimself, not that he felt more fit to go, but that the heartlessness ofthis fellow struck a chill to his heart.

  But Kirke was not so heedless of the event as he tried to seem, nor sowholly ungrateful for Ralph's sympathy as he chose to appear. This wasthe first blow which had struck home to him, and in his pride and sullenhumour he was trying to resist its softening influence. Not for theworld would he have displayed any better feeling at that time, though itwas not altogether absent from his heart.