Gordon Young

“ His shadow blotted out the side of the shack, and he said simply:
“You ain't that kind. Nor me. We got to look out for Raikes, though.”
I wondered: Did this big fellow have blood on his own hands and think to shelter himself under the leadership of Hurricane Williams? Certainly no innocent, either of us. Certainly not villains either.
I was a wastrel and knew it and did not care—except perhaps when sober. Hawkins was not a ruffian. True, he was not such a simpleton as he appeared. Excitement, the zest for adventure, has made more villains than ever bad blood. ”

“ I am about as thin as a hawser, and my joints are loose; so one evening when Moore was away two bushy roughs came by, and were not mistaken in thinking I was an easy one to dispose of, and that they might then plunder the shack.
Hawkins, inside in the dark, quietly, so he might accuse the rats of having made off with it, was eating a slab of “damper.” I had time to make one little squeak before a hangman's grip was around my neck—then a mountain came through the doorway. ”

“ Hawkins stewed and fussed as he saw the backsliders; but I cheered him up as best I could and waited.
All manner of rumors were in the air as to just how crazy we were. Was there ever a ship went out of port in those days, or these, where the truth was told to the forecastle? Perhaps—not.
Douglas Moore came back. He had nothing to say more than that I had done it in my own crazy way, as usual, and ask how many could reef and steer?
“Four say they can, but three are liars. One one-eyed little fellow wants off the mainland, bad. He's a sailor.” ”

“ I whispered. “Moore's made a stake. He wants a ship and crew. You're the man to get it. He's only a landlubber himself. You and I'll run the ship.
“You have the gift of eloquence, Ben. Pick out good husky sailor boys, or if they aren't sailors, good husky lads able to warp a schooner off a mud-bank. You don't want to heave back and forth to rock 'er off.
“Remember that iced hold and the layer of bottled ale. Go quietly up and down, whispering to this man and that. Talk pearls and don't forget the haystack.” ”

“ Many men found it more profitable to be friendly with him than to snatch at the price on his head. For one thing it was convenient to have Moore to blame for their own crimes. For another, supposing he wasn't caught and learned who set officers in his wake? Moore stayed clear of white men as much as he could. He was called a renegade. Natives liked him. Plenty of natives would have given him up, but some would not. Many a chief lied for him, and native kings to a man almost were as his blood- brothers.
Gin and rifles? ”

“ I did not exactly mistrust him; but it isn't restful to wake up and find a stranger has your secret.
We talked about Raikes. We knew where he was. We knew about what he would be doing. ... When Douglas Moore, who might as well be called by his better known name, Williams—termed “Hurricane,” not so much to commemorate any experience with a wild blow, as because of certain personal characteristics—when he, I say, came in shortly before day he found his bunk occupied.
Williams was muddy, wet and two-thirds naked. Hawkins and I were drowsily playing seven-up with dirty dog-eared cards. ”

“ Moore had said.
It wasn't the first time I had got him a crew, even of whites. I knew all that he wanted was eight or ten strong men, and no more than two or three needed to be sailors. He'd make sailors out of them. “Plenty quick, damyes” as a black boy of fair observation powers had remarked.
I served out gin and lies generously. Moore had gone to Melbourne with Davenant. I had a free hand. I talked of fresh milk and haystacks, bottled ale and a hold of ice; and fired some men, made others dubious, and convinced many that there was nothing to it. ”

“ There is a powerful pull of tide on the southern coast, where the whole of the antarctic draws its breath; and an occasional land breeze; also sand-banks.
One evening after a moody, protracted silence about the lone wavering candle, jammed into a bottle-neck and dripping to the table, Hawkins said to me:
“I heard of a fellow once broke the hemp three times. What'd they do with a man o' my weight? And when 're you goin' 'o buy them cows?”
“Meaning?”
“The Lady Betty,” he whispered, folding his thick hands across his belly and staring at me. ”

“ The hold full of ice, covered with bottled ale and porter, and forty kegs of beer in the waist, with a spigot, cup and no sentry; sherry, gin and rum, and three hundred pounds of books. And only eight good men besides yourself—to have it all.
“Northward we'll climb over the softly breathing breast of the ocean and take on a batch of Kanakas to do the work. Well find a little island and pick up pearls, and all come back rich as nabobs. But they must be good men, good sailormen—so you won't have to do any work yourself.” ”

“ And back we trudged, loaded down with gin, rum and tobacco; the necessities of life. We left to Moore the supplying of incidentals such as flour, sugar, mutton, bacon, butter and tea. Oh, yes; we each bought a candle apiece so we could see to use the corkscrew, in the dark. Hawkins ate his—the candle I mean. ”

“ Here's a master's certificate to sail any ship he can get his feet on. Don't want 'o buy it, do you? I'm a starvin' man. Think o' the years I worked and toiled to get this little piece of paper I'm offering you for a guinea. You keep the paper for security. ”