Each Had His Private
Opinions As To Her Management.
Naturally, the Maltese should
have been captain, but the soldier was both supercargo and
part owner, and though it was blowing hard and the sails were
fully large, the foreigner, who was but a poor little
creature, had to obey orders.
As the river widened and grew rougher, we were wetted from
stem to stern at every plunge; and when it became evident
that the soldier could not handle the sails if the Maltese
was kept at the helm, the heavy rifleman who was on board,
declaring that he knew the river, took upon himself to steer
us. In a few minutes the boat was nearly swamped. The
Maltese prayed and blasphemed in language which no one
understood. The oaths of the soldier were intelligible
enough. The 'heavy,' now alarmed, nervously asked what had
better be done. My advice was to grease the bowsprit, let go
the mast, and splice the main brace. 'In another minute or
two,' I added, 'you'll steer us all to the bottom.'
Fred, who thought it no time for joking, called the rifleman
a 'damned fool,' and authoritatively bade him give up the
tiller; saying that I had been in Her Majesty's Navy, and
perhaps knew a little more about boats than he did. To this
the other replied that 'he didn't want anyone to learn him;
he reckon'd he'd been raised to boating as well as the next
man, and he'd be derned if he was going to trust his life to
anybody!' Samson, thinking no doubt of his own, took his
pipe out of his mouth, and towering over the steersman, flung
him like a child on one side. In an instant I was in his
place.
It was a minute or two before the boat had way enough to
answer the helm. By that time we were within a dozen yards
of a reef. Having noticed, however, that the little craft
was quick in her stays, I kept her full till the last, put
the helm down, and round she spun in a moment. Before I
could thank my stars, the pintle, or hook on which the rudder
hangs, broke off. The tiller was knocked out of my hand, and
the boat's head flew into the wind. 'Out with the sweeps,' I
shouted. But the sweeps were under the gear. All was
confusion and panic. The two men cursed in the names of
their respective saints. The 'heavy' whined, 'I told you how
it w'd be.' Samson struggled valiantly to get at an oar,
while Fred, setting the example, begged all hands to be calm,
and be ready to fend the stern off the rocks with a boathook.
As we drifted into the surf I was wondering how many bumps
she would stand before she went to pieces. Happily the water
shallowed, and the men, by jumping overboard, managed to drag
the boat through the breakers under the lee of the point.
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