south sea tales-第26节

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trip。　Then　I'm　going　home　to　stay。〃



〃I'll　wager　the　wine　you　don't；〃　Roberts　challenged。　〃You'll　die　in　the

harness；　not　at　home。〃



Captain　Woodward　promptly　accepted　the　bet；　but　personally　I　think　Charley

Roberts　has　the　best　of　it。







THE　SEED　OF　McCOY



The　Pyrenees；　her　iron　sides　pressed　low　in　the　water　by　her　cargo　of　wheat；

rolled　sluggishly；　and　made　it　easy　for　the　man　who　was　climbing　aboard　from

out　a　tiny　outrigger　canoe。　As　his　eyes　came　level　with　the　rail；　so　that　he

could　see　inboard；　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　saw　a　dim；　almost　indiscernible

haze。　It　was　more　like　an　illusion；　like　a　blurring　film　that　had　spread

abruptly　over　his　eyes。　He　felt　an　inclination　to　brush　it　away；　and　the　same

instant　he　thought　that　he　was　growing　old　and　that　it　was　time　to　send　to　San

Francisco　for　a　pair　of　spectacles。



As　he　came　over　the　rail　he　cast　a　glance　aloft　at　the　tall　masts；　and；　next；

at　the　pumps。　They　were　not　working。　There　seemed　nothing　the　matter　with　the

big　ship；　and　he　wondered　why　she　had　hoisted　the　signal　of　distress。　He

thought　of　his　happy　islanders；　and　hoped　it　was　not　disease。　Perhaps　the　ship

was　short　of　water　or　provisions。　He　shook　hands　with　the　captain　whose　gaunt

face　and　care…worn　eyes　made　no　secret　of　the　trouble；　whatever　it　was。　At　the

same　moment　the　newcomer　was　aware　of　a　faint；　indefinable　smell。　It　seemed

like　that　of　burnt　bread；　but　different。



He　glanced　curiously　about　him。　Twenty　feet　away　a　weary…faced　sailor　was

calking　the　deck。　As　his　eyes　lingered　on　the　man；　he　saw　suddenly　arise　from

under　his　hands　a　faint　spiral　of　haze　that　curled　and　twisted　and　was　gone。

By　now　he　had　reached　the　deck。　His　bare　feet　were　pervaded　by　a　dull　warmth

that　quickly　penetrated　the　thick　calluses。　He　knew　now　the　nature　of　the

ship's　distress。　His　eyes　roved　swiftly　forward；　where　the　full　crew　of

weary…faced　sailors　regarded　him　eagerly。　The　glance　from　his　liquid　brown

eyes　swept　over　them　like　a　benediction；　soothing　them；　rapping　them　about　as

in　the　mantle　of　a　great　peace。　〃How　long　has　she　been　afire；　Captain？〃　he

asked　in　a　voice　so　gentle　and　unperturbed　that　it　was　as　the　cooing　of　a

dove。



At　first　the　captain　felt　the　peace　and　content　of　it　stealing　in　upon　him；

then　the　consciousness　of　all　that　he　had　gone　through　and　was　going　through

smote　him；　and　he　was　resentful。　By　what　right　did　this　ragged　beachcomber；　in

dungaree　trousers　and　a　cotton　shirt；　suggest　such　a　thing　as　peace　and

content　to　him　and　his　overwrought；　exhausted　soul？　The　captain　did　not　reason

this；　it　was　the　unconscious　process　of　emotion　that　caused　his　resentment。



〃Fifteen　days；〃　he　answered　shortly。　〃Who　are　you？〃



〃My　name　is　McCoy；〃　came　the　answer　in　tones　that　breathed　tenderness　and

compassion。



〃I　mean；　are　you　the　pilot？〃



McCoy　passed　the　benediction　of　his　gaze　over　the　tall；　heavy…shouldered　man

with　the　haggard；　unshaven　face　who　had　joined　the　captain。



〃I　am　as　much　a　pilot　as　anybody；〃　was　McCoy's　answer。　〃We　are　all　pilots

here；　Captain；　and　I　know　every　inch　of　these　waters。〃



But　the　captain　was　impatient。



〃What　I　want　is　some　of　the　authorities。　I　want　to　talk　with　them；　and　blame

quick。〃



〃Then　I'll　do　just　as　well。〃



Again　that　insidious　suggestion　of　peace；　and　his　ship　a　raging　furnace

beneath　his　feet！　The　captain's　eyebrows　lifted　impatiently　and　nervously；　and

his　fist　clenched　as　if　he　were　about　to　strike　a　blow　with　it。



〃Who　in　hell　are　you？〃　he　demanded。



〃I　am　the　chief　magistrate；〃　was　the　reply　in　a　voice　that　was　still　the

softest　and　gentlest　imaginable。



The　tall；　heavy…shouldered　man　broke　out　in　a　harsh　laugh　that　was　partly

amusement；　but　mostly　hysterical。　Both　he　and　the　captain　regarded　McCoy　with

incredulity　and　amazement。　That　this　barefooted　beachcomber　should　possess

such　high…sounding　dignity　was　inconceivable。　His　cotton　shirt；　unbuttoned；

exposed　a　grizzled　chest　and　the　fact　that　there　was　no　undershirt　beneath。



A　worn　straw　hat　failed　to　hide　the　ragged　gray　hair。　Halfway　down　his　chest

descended　an　untrimmed　patriarchal　beard。　In　any　slop　shop；　two　shillings

would　have　outfitted　him　complete　as　he　stood　before　them。



〃Any　relation　to　the　McCoy　of　the　Bounty？〃　the　captain　asked。



〃He　was　my　great…grandfather。〃



〃Oh；〃　the　captain　said；　then　bethought　himself。　'my　name　is　Davenport；　and

this　is　my　first　mate；　Mr。　Konig。〃



They　shook　hands。



〃And　now　to　business。〃　The　captain　spoke　quickly；　the　urgency　of　a　great　haste

pressing　his　speech。　〃We've　been　on　fire　for　over　two　weeks。　She's　ready　to

break　all　hell　loose　any　moment。　　That's　why　I　held　for　Pitcairn。　I　want　to

beach　her；　or　scuttle　her；　and　save　the　hull。〃



〃Then　you　made　a　mistake；　Captain；　said　McCoy。　〃You　should　have　slacked　away

for　Mangareva。　There's　a　beautiful　beach　there；　in　a　lagoon　where　the　water　is

like　a　mill　pond。〃



〃But　we're　here；　ain't　we？〃　the　first　mate　demanded。　〃That's　the　point。　We're

here；　and　we've　got　to　do　something。〃



McCoy　shook　his　head　kindly。



〃You　can　do　nothing　here。　There　is　no　beach。　There　isn't　even　anchorage。〃



〃Gammon！〃　said　the　mate。　〃Gammon！〃　he　repeated　loudly；　as　the　captain　signaled

him　to　be　more　soft　spoken。　〃You　can't　tell　me　that　sort　of　stuff。　Where　d'ye

keep　your　own　boats；　heyyour　schooner；　or　cutter；　or　whatever　you　have？　Hey？

Answer　me　that。〃



McCoy　smiled　as　gently　as　he　spoke。　His　smile　was　a　caress；　an　embrace　that

surrounded　the　tired　mate　and　sought　to　draw　him　into　the　quietude　and　rest　of

McCoy's　tranquil　soul。



〃We　have　no　schooner　or　cutter；〃　he　replied。　〃And　we　carry　our　canoes　to　the

top　of　the　cliff。〃



〃You've　got　to　show　me；〃　snorted　the　mate。　〃How　d'ye　get　around　to　the　other

islands；　heh？　Tell　me　that。〃



〃We　don't　get　around。　As　governor　of　Pitcairn；　I　sometimes　go。　　When　I　was

younger；　I　was　away　a　great　dealsometimes　on　the　trading　schooners；　but

mostly　on　the　missionary　brig。　But　she's　gone　now；　and　we　depend　on　passing

vessels。　Sometimes　we　have　had　as　high　as　six　calls　in　one　year。　At　other

times；　a　year；　and　even　longer；　has　gone　by　without　one　passing　ship。　Yours　is

the　first　in　seven　months。〃



〃And　you　mean　to　tell　me〃　the　mate　began。



But　Captain　Davenport　interfered。



〃Enough　of　this。　We're　losing　time。　What　is　to　be　done；　Mr。　McCoy？〃



The　old　man　turned　his　brown　eyes；　sweet　as　a　woman's；　shoreward；　and　both

captain　and　mate　followed　his　gaze　around　from　the　lonely　rock　of　Pitcairn　to

the　crew　clustering　forward　and　waiting　anxiously　for　the　announcement　of　a

decision。　'mcCoy　did　not　hurry。　He　thought　smoothly　and　slowly；　step　by　step；

with　the　certitude　of　a　mind　that　was　never　vexed　or　outraged　by　life。



〃The　wind　is　light　now；〃　he　said　finally。　〃There　is　a　heavy　current　setting　to

the　westward。〃



〃That's　what　made　us　fetch　to　leeward；〃　the　captain　interrupted；　desiring　to

vindicate　his　seamanship。



〃Yes；　that　is　what　fetched　you　to　leeward；〃　McCoy　went　on。　　〃Well；　you　can't

work　up　against　this　current　today。　And　if　you　did；　there　is　no　beach。　Your

ship　will　be　a　total　loss。〃



He　paused；　and　captain　and　mate　looked　despair　at　each　other。



〃But　I　will　tell　you　what　you　can　do。　The　breeze　will　freshen　tonight　around

midnightsee　those　tails　of　clouds　and　that　thickness　to　windward；　beyond　the

point　there？　That's　where　she'll　come　from；　out　of　the　southeast；　hard。　It　is

three　hundred　miles　to　Mangareva。　Square　away　for　it。　There　is　a　beautiful　bed

for　your　ship　there。〃



The　mate　shook　his　head。



〃Come　in　to　the　cabin；　and　we'll　look　at　the　chart；〃　said　the　captain。



McCoy　found　a　stifling；　poisonous　atmosphere　in　the　pent　cabin。　　Stray

waftures　of　invisible　gases　bit　his　eyes　and　made　them　sting。　The　deck　was

hotter；　almost　unbearably　hot　to　his　bare　feet。　The　sweat　poured　out　of　his

body。　He　looked　almost　with　apprehension　about　him。　This　malignant；　internal

heat　was　astounding。　It　was　a　marvel　that　the　cabin　did　not　burst　into　flames。

He　had　a　feeling　as　if　of　being　in　a　huge　bake　oven　where　the　heat　might　at

any　moment　increase　tremendously　and　shrivel　him　up　like　a　blade　of　grass。



As　he　lifted　one　foot　and　rubbed　the　hot　sole　against　the　leg　of　his　trousers；

the　mate　laughed　in　a　savage；　snarling　fashion。



〃The　anteroom　of　hell；〃　he　said。　〃Hell　herself　is　right　down　there　under　your

feet。〃



〃It's　hot！〃　McCoy　cried　involuntarily；　mopping　his　face　with　a　bandana

handkerchief。



〃Here's　Mangareva；〃　the　captain　said；　bending　over　the　table　and　pointing　to　a

black　speck　in　the　midst　of　the　white　blankness　of　the　chart。　〃And　here；　in

between；　is　another　island。　Why　not　run　for　that？〃



McCoy　did　not　look　at　the　chart。



〃That's　Crescent　Island；〃　he　answered。　〃It　is　uninhabited；　and　it　is　only　two

or　three　feet　above　water。　Lagoon；　but　no　entrance。　No；　Mangareva　is