Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast - Page 75/334

* The strange adventure of the Polly is not an

improbability of fiction. A Bath, Maine, schooner, lumber-

laden, was tripped in exactly this fashion off Hatteras.

Captain Boyd Mayo's exploit has been paralleled in real life

in all details. My good friend Captain Elliott C. Gardner,

former skipper of the world's only seven-master, the Thomas

W. Lawson, furnished those details to me, and after writing

this part of the tale I submitted the narrative to him for

confirmation. It has received his indorsement.--H. D.

There was only one thing to do, he decided: take advantage of any

period of truce which their ancient enemy, the sea, had allowed in that

desperate battle.

A sailor is prey to hazards and victim of the unexpected in the

ever-changing moods of the ocean; he must needs be master of expedients

and ready grappler of emergencies.

"Where are your tools--a saw--a chisel?" demanded Mayo. He was obliged

to repeat that query several times. His companions appeared to be wholly

absorbed in their personal woes.

At last Mr. Speed checked his groans long enough to state that the tools

were in "the lazareet."

The lazaret of a coaster is a storeroom under the

quarter-deck--repository of general odds and ends and spare equipment.

"Any way to get at it except through the deck-hatch?"

"There's a door through, back of the companion ladder," said Mr. Speed,

with listless indifference.

Mayo crowded his way past the ladder after he had waded and stumbled

here and there and had located it. He set his shoulders against the

slope of the steps and pushed at the door with his feet. After he had

forced it open he waded into the storeroom. It was blind business,

hunting for anything in that place. He knew the general habits of the

hit-or-miss coasting crews, and was sure that the tools had been thrown

in among the rest of the clutter by the person who used them last. If

they had been loose on the floor they would now be loose on the ceiling.

He pushed his feet about, hoping to tread on something that felt like a

saw or chisel.

"Ahoy, you men out there!" he called. "Don't you have any idea in what

part of this lazaret the tools were?"

"Oh, they was probably just throwed in," said Mr. Speed. "I wish you

wouldn't bother me so much! I'm trying to compose my mind to pray."

There were so much ruck and stuff under his feet that Mayo gave up

searching after a time. He had held his breath and ducked his head under

water so that he might investigate with his bare hands, but he found

nothing which would help him, and his brain was dizzy after his efforts

and his mouth was choked by the dirty water.