Sheila of Big Wreck Cove | Page 5

Tunis Latham. His sternness and fitness to

command were revealed at first glance; his softer attributes dawned
upon one later.
As he swayed back and forth across the deck of the flying Seamew,
rolling easily in sailor gait to the pitching of the schooner, his sharp
glance cast alow and then aloft betrayed the keen perception and
attentive mind of the master mariner, while his surface appearance
merely suggested a young man pridefully enjoying the novelty of
pacing the deck of his first command. For this was the maiden trip of
the Seamew under this name and commanded by this master.
She was not a new vessel, but neither was she old. At least, her decks
were not marred, her rails were ungashed with the wear of lines, and
even her fenders were almost shop-new. Of course, any craft may have
a fresh suit of sails; and new paint and gilding on the figurehead or a
new name board under the stern do not bespeak a craft just off the
builder's ways. Yet there was an appearance about the schooner-yacht
which would assure any able seaman at first glance that she was still to
be sea-tried. She was like a maiden at her first dance, just venturing out
upon the floor.
An old salt hung to the Seamew's wheel as the bonny craft sped
channelward. Horace Newbegin was a veritable sea dog. He had sailed
every navigable sea in all this watery world, and sailed in almost every
conceivable sort of craft. And he had sailed many voyages under Tunis
Latham's father, who had owned and commanded the four-master Ada
May, which, ill-freighted and ill-fated at last, had struck and sunk on
the outer Hebrides, carrying to the bottom most of the hands as well as
the commander of the partially insured ship.
This misfortune had kept Tunis Latham out of a command of his own
until he was thirty; for Cape Cod boys that come of masters' families
and are born navigators usually tread their own decks years before the
age at which Tunis was pacing that of the Seamew on this summer day.
"How does she handle now, Horry?" asked the skipper, wheeling
suddenly to face the old steersman.

"Thar's still that tug to sta'bo'd, Captain Tunis," growled the old man.
"But you keep her full on her course."
"Spite o' that? In course. But I can feel her tuggin' like a big bluefish
trying to bolt with hook and sinker. Never did feel that same tug to
sta'bo'd but once before on any craft. I told you that."
Tunis Latham nodded. The old man's keen eyes tried to read the
skipper's face. He could scan the signs in sea and sky at a glance, but he
confessed that the captain of the Seamew revealed no more of his inner
thoughts than had the mahogany countenance of the older Captain
Latham with whom Horry Newbegin had so long sailed.
"Well," the steersman said finally, "I've told ye all I can tell ye. That
other schooner that had a tug to sta'bo'd like this, the Marlin B., got a
bad name from the Georges to Monomoy P'int. You know that."
"Cat's foot!" ejaculated Tunis cheerfully. "The Marlin B. was sold for a
pleasure yacht and taken half around the world. A Chilean guano
millionaire bought her the year after the Sutro Brothers took her off the
Banks."
"Ye-as. That's what Sutro Brothers says," and the old man wagged his
head doubtfully. "But there's just as much difference in ships, as there
is in men. Ain't never been two men just perzact-ly alike. No two craft
ever sailed or steered same as same, Captain Tunis. I steered the Martin
B. out o' Salem on her second trip, without knowing what she'd been
through, you can believe, on her first."
"Well, well!" Tunis broke in sharply. "Just keep your mind on what you
are doing now, Horry. You're supposed to be steering the Seamew into
Big Wreck Cove. Don't undertake to shave a piece off the Lighthouse
Point reef."
The steersman did not answer. From long experience with these
Lathams, Horace Newbegin knew just how much interference or advice
they would stand.

"And, by gum, that ain't much!" he growled to himself.
He took the beautifully sailing schooner in through the channel in a
masterly manner. He knew that more ancient skippers than Cap'n Ira
Ball, up there on Wreckers' Head, would be watching the Seamew
make the cove, and old Horry Newbegin wanted them to say it was
well done.
Half an hour later the anchor was dropped fifty yards off Portygee
Town. Captain Tunis ordered the gig lowered to take him ashore and,
after giving the mate some instructions regarding stowage and the
men's shore leave, he was rowed over to Luiz