English
Thelasttwenty-fourhourshavewitnessedacarnivalofbrutality.
Fromcabintoforecastleitseemstohavebrokenoutlikeacontagion.Iscarcelyknowwheretobegin.WolfLarsenwasreallythecauseofit.
Therelationsamongthemen,strainedandmadetensebyfeuds,quarrelsandgrudges,wereinastateofunstableequilibrium,andevilpassionsflaredupinflamelikeprairie-grass.
ThomasMugridgeisasneak,aspy,aninformer.
Hehasbeenattemptingtocurryfavourandreinstatehimselfinthegoodgracesofthecaptainbycarryingtalesofthemenforward.
Heitwas,Iknow,thatcarriedsomeofJohnson’shastytalktoWolfLarsen.
Johnson,itseems,boughtasuitofoilskinsfromtheslop-chestandfoundthemtobeofgreatlyinferiorquality.
Norwasheslowinadvertisingthefact.
Theslop-chestisasortofminiaturedry-goodsstorewhichiscarriedbyallsealingschoonersandwhichisstockedwitharticlespeculiartotheneedsofthesailors.
Whateverasailorpurchasesistakenfromhissubsequentearningsonthesealinggrounds;for,asitiswiththehunterssoitiswiththeboat-pullersandsteerers—intheplaceofwagestheyreceivea“lay,”arateofsomuchperskinforeveryskincapturedintheirparticularboat.
ButofJohnson’sgrumblingattheslop-chestIknewnothing,sothatwhatIwitnessedcamewithashockofsuddensurprise.
Ihadjustfinishedsweepingthecabin,andhadbeeninveigledbyWolfLarsenintoadiscussionofHamlet,hisfavouriteShakespeariancharacter,whenJohansendescendedthecompanionstairsfollowedbyJohnson.
Thelatter’scapcameoffafterthecustomofthesea,andhestoodrespectfullyinthecentreofthecabin,swayingheavilyanduneasilytotherolloftheschoonerandfacingthecaptain.
“Shutthedoorsanddrawtheslide,”WolfLarsensaidtome.
AsIobeyedInoticedananxiouslightcomeintoJohnson’seyes,butIdidnotdreamofitscause.
Ididnotdreamofwhatwastooccuruntilitdidoccur,butheknewfromtheveryfirstwhatwascomingandawaiteditbravely.
AndinhisactionIfoundcompleterefutationofallWolfLarsen’smaterialism.
ThesailorJohnsonwasswayedbyidea,byprinciple,andtruth,andsincerity.
Hewasright,heknewhewasright,andhewasunafraid.
Hewoulddiefortherightifneedsbe,hewouldbetruetohimself,sincerewithhissoul.
Andinthiswasportrayedthevictoryofthespiritovertheflesh,theindomitabilityandmoralgrandeurofthesoulthatknowsnorestrictionandrisesabovetimeandspaceandmatterwithasuretyandinvinciblenessbornofnothingelsethaneternityandimmortality.
Buttoreturn.InoticedtheanxiouslightinJohnson’seyes,butmistookitforthenativeshynessandembarrassmentoftheman.
Themate,Johansen,stoodawayseveralfeettothesideofhim,andfullythreeyardsinfrontofhimsatWolfLarsenononeofthepivotalcabinchairs.
AnappreciablepausefellafterIhadclosedthedoorsanddrawntheslide,apausethatmusthavelastedfullyaminute.ItwasbrokenbyWolfLarsen.
“Yonson,”hebegan.
“MynameisJohnson,sir,”thesailorboldlycorrected.
“Well,Johnson,then,damnyou!CanyouguesswhyIhavesentforyou?”
“Yes,andno,sir,”wastheslowreply.“Myworkisdonewell.Themateknowsthat,andyouknowit,sir.Sotherecannotbeanycomplaint.”
“Andisthatall?”WolfLarsenqueried,hisvoicesoft,andlow,andpurring.
“Iknowyouhaveitinforme,”Johnsoncontinuedwithhisunalterableandponderousslowness.“Youdonotlikeme.You—you—”
“Goon,”WolfLarsenprompted.“Don’tbeafraidofmyfeelings.”
“Iamnotafraid,”thesailorretorted,aslightangryflushrisingthroughhissunburn.
“IfIspeaknotfast,itisbecauseIhavenotbeenfromtheoldcountryaslongasyou.
YoudonotlikemebecauseIamtoomuchofaman;thatiswhy,sir.”
“Youaretoomuchofamanforshipdiscipline,ifthatiswhatyoumean,andifyouknowwhatImean,”wasWolfLarsen’sretort.
“IknowEnglish,andIknowwhatyoumean,sir,”Johnsonanswered,hisflushdeepeningatthesluronhisknowledgeoftheEnglishlanguage.
“Johnson,”WolfLarsensaid,withanairofdismissingallthathadgonebeforeasintroductorytothemainbusinessinhand,“Iunderstandyou’renotquitesatisfiedwiththoseoilskins?”
“No,Iamnot.Theyarenogood,sir.”
“Andyou’vebeenshootingoffyourmouthaboutthem.”
“IsaywhatIthink,sir,”thesailoransweredcourageously,notfailingatthesametimeinshipcourtesy,whichdemandedthat“sir”beappendedtoeachspeechhemade.
ItwasatthismomentthatIchancedtoglanceatJohansen.
Hisbigfistswereclenchingandunclenching,andhisfacewaspositivelyfiendish,somalignantlydidhelookatJohnson.
Inoticedablackdiscoloration,stillfaintlyvisible,underJohansen’seye,amarkofthethrashinghehadreceivedafewnightsbeforefromthesailor.
ForthefirsttimeIbegantodivinethatsomethingterriblewasabouttobeenacted,—what,Icouldnotimagine.
“Doyouknowwhathappenstomenwhosaywhatyou’vesaidaboutmyslop-chestandme?”WolfLarsenwasdemanding.
“Iknow,sir,”wastheanswer.
“What?”WolfLarsendemanded,sharplyandimperatively.
“Whatyouandthematetherearegoingtodotome,sir.”
“Lookathim,Hump,”WolfLarsensaidtome,“lookatthisbitofanimateddust,thisaggregationofmatterthatmovesandbreathesanddefiesmeandthoroughlybelievesitselftobecompoundedofsomethinggood;thatisimpressedwithcertainhumanfictionssuchasrighteousnessandhonesty,andthatwillliveuptotheminspiteofallpersonaldiscomfortsandmenaces.Whatdoyouthinkofhim,Hump?
Whatdoyouthinkofhim?”
“Ithinkthatheisabettermanthanyouare,”Ianswered,impelled,somehow,withadesiretodrawuponmyselfaportionofthewrathIfeltwasabouttobreakuponhishead.
“Hishumanfictions,asyouchoosetocallthem,makefornobilityandmanhood.
Youhavenofictions,nodreams,noideals.Youareapauper.”
Henoddedhisheadwithasavagepleasantness.“Quitetrue,Hump,quitetrue.
Ihavenofictionsthatmakefornobilityandmanhood.
Alivingdogisbetterthanadeadlion,sayIwiththePreacher.
Myonlydoctrineisthedoctrineofexpediency,anditmakesforsurviving.
Thisbitofthefermentwecall‘Johnson,’whenheisnolongerabitoftheferment,onlydustandashes,willhavenomorenobilitythananydustandashes,whileIshallstillbealiveandroaring.”
“DoyouknowwhatIamgoingtodo?”hequestioned.
Ishookmyhead.
“Well,Iamgoingtoexercisemyprerogativeofroaringandshowyouhowfaresnobility.Watchme.”
ThreeyardsawayfromJohnsonhewas,andsittingdown.Ninefeet!
Andyetheleftthechairinfullleap,withoutfirstgainingastandingposition.
Heleftthechair,justashesatinit,squarely,springingfromthesittingposturelikeawildanimal,atiger,andlikeatigercoveredtheinterveningspace.
ItwasanavalancheoffurythatJohnsonstrovevainlytofendoff.
Hethrewonearmdowntoprotectthestomach,theotherarmuptoprotectthehead;butWolfLarsen’sfistdrovemidwaybetween,onthechest,withacrushing,resoundingimpact.
Johnson’sbreath,suddenlyexpelled,shotfromhismouthandassuddenlychecked,withtheforced,audibleexpirationofamanwieldinganaxe.
Healmostfellbackward,andswayedfromsidetosideinanefforttorecoverhisbalance.
Icannotgivethefurtherparticularsofthehorriblescenethatfollowed.Itwastoorevolting.
ItturnsmesickevennowwhenIthinkofit.
Johnsonfoughtbravelyenough,buthewasnomatchforWolfLarsen,muchlessforWolfLarsenandthemate.Itwasfrightful.
Ihadnotimaginedahumanbeingcouldenduresomuchandstillliveandstruggleon.AndstruggleonJohnsondid.
Ofcoursetherewasnohopeforhim,nottheslightest,andheknewitaswellasI,butbythemanhoodthatwasinhimhecouldnotceasefromfightingforthatmanhood.
Itwastoomuchformetowitness.IfeltthatIshouldlosemymind,andIranupthecompanionstairstoopenthedoorsandescapeondeck.
ButWolfLarsen,leavinghisvictimforthemoment,andwithoneofhistremendoussprings,gainedmysideandflungmeintothefarcornerofthecabin.
“Thephenomenaoflife,Hump,”hegirdedatme.“Stayandwatchit.
Youmaygatherdataontheimmortalityofthesoul.
Besides,youknow,wecan’thurtJohnson’ssoul.
It’sonlythefleetingformwemaydemolish.”
Itseemedcenturies—possiblyitwasnomorethantenminutesthatthebeatingcontinued.
WolfLarsenandJohansenwereallaboutthepoorfellow.
Theystruckhimwiththeirfists,kickedhimwiththeirheavyshoes,knockedhimdown,anddraggedhimtohisfeettoknockhimdownagain.
Hiseyeswereblindedsothathecouldnotset,andthebloodrunningfromearsandnoseandmouthturnedthecabinintoashambles.
Andwhenhecouldnolongerrisetheystillcontinuedtobeatandkickhimwherehelay.
“Easy,Johansen;easyasshegoes,”WolfLarsenfinallysaid.
Butthebeastinthematewasupandrampant,andWolfLarsenwascompelledtobrushhimawaywithaback-handedsweepofthearm,gentleenough,apparently,butwhichhurledJohansenbacklikeacork,drivinghisheadagainstthewallwithacrash.
Hefelltothefloor,halfstunnedforthemoment,breathingheavilyandblinkinghiseyesinastupidsortofway.
“Jerkopenthedoors,—Hump,”Iwascommanded.
Iobeyed,andthetwobrutespickedupthesenselessmanlikeasackofrubbishandhovehimclearupthecompanionstairs,throughthenarrowdoorway,andoutondeck.
Thebloodfromhisnosegushedinascarletstreamoverthefeetofthehelmsman,whowasnoneotherthanLouis,hisboat-mate.
ButLouistookandgaveaspokeandgazedimperturbablyintothebinnacle.
NotsowastheconductofGeorgeLeach,theerstwhilecabin-boy.
Foreandafttherewasnothingthatcouldhavesurprisedusmorethanhisconsequentbehaviour.
HeitwasthatcameuponthepoopwithoutordersanddraggedJohnsonforward,wherehesetaboutdressinghiswoundsaswellashecouldandmakinghimcomfortable.
Johnson,asJohnson,wasunrecognizable;andnotonlythat,forhisfeatures,ashumanfeaturesatall,wereunrecognizable,sodiscolouredandswollenhadtheybecomeinthefewminuteswhichhadelapsedbetweenthebeginningofthebeatingandthedraggingforwardofthebody.
ButofLeach’sbehaviour—BythetimeIhadfinishedcleansingthecabinhehadtakencareofJohnson.
Ihadcomeupondeckforabreathoffreshairandtotrytogetsomereposeformyoverwroughtnerves.
WolfLarsenwassmokingacigarandexaminingthepatentlogwhichtheGhostusuallytowedastern,butwhichhadbeenhauledinforsomepurpose.SuddenlyLeach’svoicecametomyears.
Itwastenseandhoarsewithanovermasteringrage.
Iturnedandsawhimstandingjustbeneaththebreakofthepoopontheportsideofthegalley.
Hisfacewasconvulsedandwhite,hiseyeswereflashing,hisclenchedfistsraisedoverhead.
“MayGoddamnyoursoultohell,WolfLarsen,onlyhell’stoogoodforyou,youcoward,youmurderer,youpig!”washisopeningsalutation.
Iwasthunderstruck.Ilookedforhisinstantannihilation.
ButitwasnotWolfLarsen’swhimtoannihilatehim.
Hesaunteredslowlyforwardtothebreakofthepoop,and,leaninghiselbowonthecornerofthecabin,gazeddownthoughtfullyandcuriouslyattheexcitedboy.
AndtheboyindictedWolfLarsenashehadneverbeenindictedbefore.
Thesailorsassembledinafearfulgroupjustoutsidetheforecastlescuttleandwatchedandlistened.
Thehunterspiledpell-melloutofthesteerage,butasLeach’stiradecontinuedIsawthattherewasnolevityintheirfaces.
Eventheywerefrightened,notattheboy’sterriblewords,butathisterribleaudacity.
ItdidnotseempossiblethatanylivingcreaturecouldthusbeardWolfLarseninhisteeth.
IknowformyselfthatIwasshockedintoadmirationoftheboy,andIsawinhimthesplendidinvinciblenessofimmortalityrisingabovethefleshandthefearsoftheflesh,asintheprophetsofold,tocondemnunrighteousness.
Andsuchcondemnation!HehaledforthWolfLarsen’ssoulnakedtothescornofmen.
HeraineduponitcursesfromGodandHighHeaven,andwithereditwithaheatofinvectivethatsavouredofamediævalexcommunicationoftheCatholicChurch.
Heranthegamutofdenunciation,risingtoheightsofwraththatweresublimeandalmostGodlike,andfromsheerexhaustionsinkingtothevilestandmostindecentabuse.
Hisragewasamadness.Hislipswerefleckedwithasoapyfroth,andsometimeshechokedandgurgledandbecameinarticulate.
Andthroughitall,calmandimpassive,leaningonhiselbowandgazingdown,WolfLarsenseemedlostinagreatcuriosity.
Thiswildstirringofyeastylife,thisterrificrevoltanddefianceofmatterthatmoved,perplexedandinterestedhim.
EachmomentIlooked,andeverybodylooked,forhimtoleapupontheboyanddestroyhim.Butitwasnothiswhim.Hiscigarwentout,andhecontinuedtogazesilentlyandcuriously.
Leachhadworkedhimselfintoanecstasyofimpotentrage.
“Pig!Pig!Pig!”
hewasreiteratingatthetopofhislungs.
“Whydon’tyoucomedownandkillme,youmurderer?Youcandoit!Iain’tafraid!There’snoonetostopyou!
Damnsightbetterdeadandoutayourreachthanaliveandinyourclutches!Comeon,youcoward!Killme!Killme!Killme!”
ItwasatthisstagethatThomasMugridge’serraticsoulbroughthimintothescene.
Hehadbeenlisteningatthegalleydoor,buthenowcameout,ostensiblytoflingsomescrapsovertheside,butobviouslytoseethekillinghewascertainwouldtakeplace.
HesmirkedgreasilyupintothefaceofWolfLarsen,whoseemednottoseehim.
ButtheCockneywasunabashed,thoughmad,starkmad.HeturnedtoLeach,saying:
“Suchlangwidge!Shockin’!”
Leach’sragewasnolongerimpotent.Hereatlastwassomethingreadytohand.
AndforthefirsttimesincethestabbingtheCockneyhadappearedoutsidethegalleywithouthisknife.
ThewordshadbarelylefthismouthwhenhewasknockeddownbyLeach.
Threetimeshestruggledtohisfeet,strivingtogainthegalley,andeachtimewasknockeddown.
“Oh,Lord!”hecried.“’Elp!’Elp!Tyke’imaw’y,carn’tyer?Tyke’imaw’y!”
Thehunterslaughedfromsheerrelief.Tragedyhaddwindled,thefarcehadbegun.
Thesailorsnowcrowdedboldlyaft,grinningandshuffling,towatchthepummellingofthehatedCockney.
AndevenIfeltagreatjoysurgeupwithinme.
IconfessthatIdelightedinthisbeatingLeachwasgivingtoThomasMugridge,thoughitwasasterrible,almost,astheoneMugridgehadcausedtobegiventoJohnson.
ButtheexpressionofWolfLarsen’sfaceneverchanged.
Hedidnotchangehispositioneither,butcontinuedtogazedownwithagreatcuriosity.
Forallhispragmaticcertitude,itseemedasifhewatchedtheplayandmovementoflifeinthehopeofdiscoveringsomethingmoreaboutit,ofdiscerninginitsmaddestwrithingsasomethingwhichhadhithertoescapedhim,—thekeytoitsmystery,asitwere,whichwouldmakeallclearandplain.
Butthebeating!ItwasquitesimilartotheoneIhadwitnessedinthecabin.
TheCockneystroveinvaintoprotecthimselffromtheinfuriatedboy.
Andinvainhestrovetogaintheshelterofthecabin.
Herolledtowardit,grovelledtowardit,felltowarditwhenhewasknockeddown.
Butblowfollowedblowwithbewilderingrapidity.
Hewasknockedaboutlikeashuttlecock,until,finally,likeJohnson,hewasbeatenandkickedashelayhelplessonthedeck.Andnooneinterfered.
Leachcouldhavekilledhim,but,havingevidentlyfilledthemeasureofhisvengeance,hedrewawayfromhisprostratefoe,whowaswhimperingandwailinginapuppyishsortofway,andwalkedforward.
Butthesetwoaffairswereonlytheopeningeventsoftheday’sprogramme.
IntheafternoonSmokeandHendersonfellfoulofeachother,andafusilladeofshotscameupfromthesteerage,followedbyastampedeoftheotherfourhuntersforthedeck.
Acolumnofthick,acridsmoke—thekindalwaysmadebyblackpowder—wasarisingthroughtheopencompanion-way,anddownthroughitleapedWolfLarsen.
Thesoundofblowsandscufflingcametoourears.
Bothmenwerewounded,andhewasthrashingthembothforhavingdisobeyedhisordersandcrippledthemselvesinadvanceofthehuntingseason.
Infact,theywerebadlywounded,and,havingthrashedthem,heproceededtooperateupontheminaroughsurgicalfashionandtodresstheirwounds.
Iservedasassistantwhileheprobedandcleansedthepassagesmadebythebullets,andIsawthetwomenendurehiscrudesurgerywithoutanæstheticsandwithnomoretoupholdthemthanastifftumblerofwhisky.
Then,inthefirstdog-watch,troublecametoaheadintheforecastle.
Ittookitsriseoutofthetittle-tattleandtale-bearingwhichhadbeenthecauseofJohnson’sbeating,andfromthenoiseweheard,andfromthesightofthebruisedmennextday,itwaspatentthathalftheforecastlehadsoundlydrubbedtheotherhalf.
Theseconddog-watchandthedaywerewoundupbyafightbetweenJohansenandthelean,Yankee-lookinghunter,Latimer.
ItwascausedbyremarksofLatimer’sconcerningthenoisesmadebythemateinhissleep,andthoughJohansenwaswhipped,hekeptthesteerageawakefortherestofthenightwhileheblissfullyslumberedandfoughtthefightoverandoveragain.
Asformyself,Iwasoppressedwithnightmare.
Thedayhadbeenlikesomehorribledream.
Brutalityhadfollowedbrutality,andflamingpassionsandcold-bloodedcrueltyhaddrivenmentoseekoneanother’slives,andtostrivetohurt,andmaim,anddestroy.Mynerveswereshocked.Myminditselfwasshocked.
Allmydayshadbeenpassedincomparativeignoranceoftheanimalityofman.
Infact,Ihadknownlifeonlyinitsintellectualphases.
BrutalityIhadexperienced,butitwasthebrutalityoftheintellect—thecuttingsarcasmofCharleyFuruseth,thecruelepigramsandoccasionalharshwitticismsofthefellowsattheBibelot,andthenastyremarksofsomeoftheprofessorsduringmyundergraduatedays.
Thatwasall.Butthatmenshouldwreaktheirangeronothersbythebruisingofthefleshandthelettingofbloodwassomethingstrangelyandfearfullynewtome.
NotfornothinghadIbeencalled“Sissy”VanWeyden,Ithought,asItossedrestlesslyonmybunkbetweenonenightmareandanother.
Anditseemedtomethatmyinnocenceoftherealitiesoflifehadbeencompleteindeed.
Ilaughedbitterlytomyself,andseemedtofindinWolfLarsen’sforbiddingphilosophyamoreadequateexplanationoflifethanIfoundinmyown.
AndIwasfrightenedwhenIbecameconsciousofthetrendofmythought.
Thecontinualbrutalityaroundmewasdegenerativeinitseffect.
Itbidfairtodestroyformeallthatwasbestandbrightestinlife.
MyreasondictatedthatthebeatingThomasMugridgehadreceivedwasanillthing,andyetforthelifeofmeIcouldnotpreventmysouljoyinginit.
AndevenwhileIwasoppressedbytheenormityofmysin,—forsinitwas,—Ichuckledwithaninsanedelight.IwasnolongerHumphreyVanWeyden.
IwasHump,cabin-boyontheschoonerGhost.
WolfLarsenwasmycaptain,ThomasMugridgeandtherestweremycompanions,andIwasreceivingrepeatedimpressesfromthediewhichhadstampedthemall.
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