Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast - Page 220/334

Mayo knew something of the methods of schooner masters and was not

surprised by the last remark.

In the gallant old days, when it was the custom to thrash out a blow,

the later plan of anchoring a big craft in the high seas off the

Delaware coast, with Europe for a lee, would have been viewed with a

certain amount of horror by a captain.

But the modern skipper figures that there's less wear and tear if he

anchors and rides it out. To be sure, it's no sort of a place for a

squeamish person, aboard a loaded schooner whose mudhook clutches

bottom while the sea flings her about, but the masters and crews of

coal-luggers are not squeamish.

Mayo, glancing aft, saw two men coming forward slowly, stopping at

regular intervals. The light of a lantern played upon their dripping

oilskins. When they arrived at the break of the main-deck, near the

forward house, he recognized Captain Downs and the first mate. The

second mate stepped out and replied to the captain's hail.

"Bring a maul and some more wedges!" commanded the master.

"Drusilla is getting her back up some more," commented the second

mate, starting for the storeroom. "I don't blame her much. This is no

place for an old lady, out here to-night." He ordered Mayo to accompany

him.

In a few moments they reported to the captain, the mate carrying the

two-headed maul and the young man bearing an armful of wedges.

Captain Downs bestowed on Mayo about the same attention he would have

allowed to a galley cockroach. He pointed to a gap in the rail.

"There--drive one in there," he told the mate. "Let that nigger hold the

wedge." There was rancor in his voice--baleful hostility shone in his

snapping eyes; no captain tolerates disobedience at sea, and Mayo had

disregarded all discipline in the cabin.

The young man kneeled and performed the service and followed the party

dutifully when they moved on to the next gap.

The pitching schooner groaned and grunted and squalled in all her

fabric.

Every angle joint was working--yawing open and closing with dull

grindings as the vessel rolled and plunged.

"By goofer, she's gritting her teeth in good shape!" commented the first

mate.

"She ought to have been stiffened a year ago, when she first began to

loosen and work!" declared Captain Downs. His anxiety stirred both his

temper and his tongue. "I was willing to have my sixteenth into her

assessed for repairs, but a stockholder don't have to go to sea! I wish

I had an excursion party of owners aboard here now."