Looking Seaward Again | Page 8

disturbing character,
until one morning a steamer came in and was moored alongside the
Claverhouse. Yaunie was the pilot, and after completing his work he
went aboard the Claverhouse and asked to see the captain.

"He is not astir yet," said the steward.
"I must speak with him at once," said Yaunie.
The captain, overhearing the conversation, called out, "All right, come
to my room."
"Well, Yaunie, what news this morning?" asked the captain.
"Ah, it is very bad news," replied Yaunie. "That fool Farquarson,"
pointing to where the other steamer lay, "speaks all the time about what
happened when you went from the port without permission. He say that
he was aboard the gunboat asking for a torpedo channel-pilot, and that
he could not get one because they were firing at you all the time. They
asked him the name of the steamer, but he told some other. I say to him
he was wrong, but he say no; and he will jabb, as you call it."
"Well, Yaunie, what's to be done? What is the remedy?"
"What's to be done--I don' know what you call the other. I say, get the
steamer loaded quick and away. I don' tink trouble, but O Chresto! his
tong go like steam-winch, and you much better Black Sea dan here."
"Very excellent advice, Yaunie. Now let us go on deck."
A sudden inspiration came to the captain, which caused him to
exclaim--
"Yaunie, I'll ask him to eat with us. This is our English mode of settling
obstacles, and making and retaining friendships. Don't you think it a
good suggestion?"
"Do anything you like. Give him the Sacrament, but keep him quiet. He
is very dangerous now."
The captain of the other steamer was on deck, and as soon as he got his
eye on them he bellowed out in terms of unjustifiable familiarity--
"Hallo, old fellow, how are ye? So they've not sent ye to the silver
mines yet?"
"No," smartly retorted the captain, with some warmth, "they've not, or I
wouldn't have been here. But they d--d soon will if you don't keep your
mouth shut!"
Without heeding what was said to him, the distinguished commander of
the new-comer slapped his thigh vigorously with his right hand, and
laughed out--
"By Joshua, you were in a tight corner, and will never be nearer being
popped! [sunk]. They were furious at me, and would have blown all
England up because I said I didn't know who it was."

"Oh," said the _Claverhouse's_ commander, "that is old history. Come
aboard and have breakfast with me."
"All right," said Farquarson, "I'll have a wash up, and then come. But
what a darned funny thing not to blow you up with the mines. I just
said to my mate, they are a lot of lazy beasts, or there's something
wrong with the wires. But the mate said, 'No; he's taken them
unawares.' 'Unawares be d----d!' said I; 'he's not taken these gunboat
chaps unawares, for I couldn't get them to stop firing.'"
"He's off again!" interjected Yaunie.
"All right, all right!" replied the impatient captain to his voluble
compatriot. "Come to breakfast as quick as you can, there's a good
fellow."
Farquarson got to the companion-way--_i.e._ the entrance to the
cabin--and was about to make some further remarks when the captain
of the Claverhouse said to Yaunie, "Let's go below, for God's sake! As
long as he sees us he'll keep on."
When they got into the cabin, the burly pilot was almost inarticulate.
All he could say was--
"My goodness, what a tong! He must be dangerous to his owners. I
have never see such a tong."
In due course the irrepressible person appeared, and was received with
professional cordiality. He had no sooner taken his seat at the table than
he became convulsed with laughter, slapped his hand on the table, and
shouted--
"By Cocker, I'll never forget it! The rage of them Russians, and the way
they blazed away their shot, and it never going within miles of where
you were! Miles, mind you!"
Yaunie and his friend looked at each other in savage despair, as he
persisted in reeling off quantities of disconnected incoherencies. But
relief to his perturbed friends came when the steward placed the
breakfast on the table. He stopped the flow of narration, and
exclaimed--
"Ah! that's what I like--dry hash and a bit of ham with an egg or two. I
was just saying to my mate--who's as big a born fool as ever drank
whisky--there's not a better meal made at sea than dry hash."
By this time his mouth was full, and it was difficult to know what he
wished to convey. His eating was quite as boundless as his talk, though

he could not do both