Gordon Young

“ With the slow turn of the deck as the Mariana settled in the plunge down another mountain slope, the men dropped away, gravity with them, anger in their hearts. The water fled before them, pulling at the chest, saving it from the hands of men. The chest struggled, submerged. It did not want to fight, only to get away. Men clawed it, pounded it, lay on it. ”

“ They had never imagined quickness like that in a man. One arm struck with a knotted hand, the other with a knife, and both went right and left. Murphy loosened a sheath-knife and sprang; but stopped in mid-air and fell to the deck, writhing in a gush of blood. Jorgan staggered to his feet, clawing at Williams's back. In a flash he was shaken off, his chest ripped.
The crew fled, amazed. It was not a coolie behind the bronze mask; and men who estimated him by the naked muscles did not see at all the source of his strength. ”

“ Raffle was about the deck, under water. Rope-ends like long threshing snakes whipped about. Men in oilskins clawed themselves along their rigged life-lines, browsing tacks and hauling clewlines, tightening stays, wearily pulling themselves aloft.
That madman seemed determined to set every stitch of canvas. The confusion over the decks, the wind's howl and eldritch orchestration of rigging, the heeling and pitching of the bark, gave the im pression of impending disaster. Men expected the masts to go or at least that sails would cannonade off from bolt-ropes. ”

“ The Finn sat on a sea-chest, arms folded. Murphy, by his side, jabbed with an elbow. The Finn grunted. Murphy was methodically trying to win every man over to his way of thinking.
Jorgan, a big, slow, thoughtful fellow, laborious of speech, sat with his legs swinging from the edge of a bunk. He sat in meditation many hours of sleep-time, thinking over words shoved into his brain by a quick, restless little fellow.
Old Billy always gave argument to Murphy's discontent. Old Billy hated “mut'neers an pirates.” No matter who had the ship, 'twas a sailor's duty to do his work. ”

“ They braced themselves and hauled. The chest, full of sluggish fighting weight, pulled back in the leeward roll. They jeered it: loud, derisive, they scorned it. The fight was over.
“Chest all fast, sir!” said Mr. Edwins, short of breath.
“The foresail—shake out the reefs!”
Mr. Edwins gasped, all breath gone. Then he passed the word with a roar. Dark shapes stirred with clumsy quickness, calling the order, one to another.
And the Mariana took it. Something had to give way under that terrific press of sail, and it was the big seas that beat her. ”

“ They were kept so busy working they had no time to think.
Williams scarcely stirred though others were shunted to and fro by the deck's heave. He could not have appeared more indifferent toward the crew had he been their lawful captain.
The Mariana had three Kanakas in her crew, but there were more than that about the deck. They worked willingly and hard.
All the while the sail was being set, the bark shivered and plunged. Rigging screeched. Vibrant intensity was everywhere. The canvas bulged hard as granite. Only the stars, remote, cold, were at peace. ”

“ Whenever in future days there might be ears to listen, they would add their words to the evil told of him. The crew had gone aft, respectfully. He had jumped into them, cutting and stabbing; and they could do nothing but try to get away. Murphy had not been one of those to get away. He was dead. Jorgan, slashed by a blow meant for his heart, got no attention at all except such as his shipmates could give him. But two days later when that Finn, bucked from a yard, fell, smashing his shoulder—why, that “lousy for'ner was carried aft, put in a stateroom, had niggers to wait on him!” ”

“ Planters, who needed the natives for slaves, especially wanted to wipe him off the map. He had captured and kept more than one blackbird schooner and used it for pearling, and had piled up a fortune in pearls and fine shell. Gunmeyer stole it.
Williams, who stopped at nothing, came right into Sydney itself with a handful of natives, Brundage and McGuire; and part of them signed on with the Mariana's crew and helped to stow him and the others away down in the forepeak. Williams had had no use for his pearls; he had less for a big iron bark, but he felt that she was his and he took her. ”

“ They were filled with the depression of the windless evening, full of ghastly light shot by the dying sun into the murky northward heaven from whence the clouds with heavy tramp of thunder and flicker of lightning came on with great smoke-like heads, slowly tumbling and writhing across the sky. ”

“ An inner anger grew from the notion that Williams did not think him and others like him of strong enough fiber. Mental comparison of himself with the seemingly puny McGuire, lazy, careless, inflamingly suggested injustice, a bad kink in the scheme of things. He urged the others into discontent about their rights. As for the blacks that Williams counted on so much—“a bunch o' niggers,” he thought them. White men have despised them, ridden them, broken them, beaten them from the day of the curse on Noah's son. ”

“ Loaded with a general cargo of wool, wheat, timber, a small gold shipment, eight passengers, eighteen men and three mates, she had put out of Sydney and never touched at Hobart, where she was expected the following Tuesday.
A storm had come up her first night out. Ships were knocked about and aground as in every storm off the Australian coast. Shipping men then recalled that Gunmeyer was a bullheaded “Dutchman” who would stick to bad judgment rather than admit that he had made a mistake, so perhaps the Mariana had gone on the rocks. ”

“ Gunmeyer cried.
Mr. Butler told him that the Mariana, being iron, could be hit by lightning forty times without loosening a rivet; and that made the captain angry. He called Mr. Butler a fool and began to bellow about the amount of canvas set. He ordered the flying jib taken in and reefs put in the mainsail.
“But there's wind coming,” Mr. Butler cried. “A gale of it—and there—there's the rocks you'll be on in the morning if you don't claw off.”
The wind came and came hard. The rain had stopped. The clouds were flying by, and the wind hauled quickly about two points to the east. ”

“ At daybreak the crew hung motionless, cramped hands at pin-rails and ropes. Silent, cold, tired, they watched nothing at all with the glazed steadiness of sick men.
Their second mate, Mr. Edwins, had been called aft. That voice had spoken. Mr. Edwins went by them, his oilskins swishing. They never saw him on deck again.
Brundage was recognized, loitering erect on the poop. The men stared and mumbled, then grew agitated. What had happened? It must be all right—the officers were on deck through the night. But the man with that voice had not been their captain. ”

“ Gunmeyer said that he was going to heave to and ride out the blow.
“Heave to! Heave to, sir!” Mr. Butler cried. “The time's gone when we can heave to. We are making leeway—an there's the mainland! We need more canvas—ought to take the reefs out of the mainsail. We have to get out to sea!”
But Gunmeyer said that he would do it in his own way. He ordered all hands called; but even when both watches were on deck, Gunmeyer still hesitated.
The bark pitched desperately. The men, feeling that they could scarcely live in the waist, had started to come on to the poop ”

“ McGuire gouged his eyes with hard knuckles.
“The officers?”
“Well,” said McGuire with the impudence of a court jester, “Edwins was cryin'. He's young an' thinks somebody ought to be hit over the head. I put Kabuloo in his room. Let 'im start on Kabuloo.”
Kabuloo was seven feet tall with a chest like a ship's bows.
“Butler's quiet after usin' up all the sea-words learned in twenty years. Thinkin' of some more, maybe. He's got a plenty.”
McGuire hardly ever knew if Williams listened. Sometimes he had seen the bronze face relax a little, but there was never an answering smile. ”