The Island Treasure | Page 7

sliding door under the break of the poop, which was the `back
entrance,' as it were, to the cabin.
The ship being close-hauled, heeled over so much to leeward that her
port side was almost under water, the waves that broke over the fo'c's'le
running down in a cataract into the waist and forming a regular river
inside the bulwarks, right flush up with the top of the gunwale, which
slushed backwards and forwards as the vessel pitched and rose again,
one moment with her bows in the air, and the next diving her nose deep
down into the rocking seas; so, I had to scramble along towards the
galley on the weather side, holding on to every rope I could clutch to
secure my footing, the deck slanting so much from the Denver City
laying over to the wind, even under the reduced canvas she had spread.
To add to my difficulties, also, in getting forwards, the sheets of foam
and spindrift were carried along by the fierce gusts-- which came now
and again between the lulls, when it blew more steadily, cutting off the
tops of the billows and hurling the spray over the mainyard--drenched
me almost to the skin before I arrived within hail of the fo'c's'le.
However, I reached the galley all right at last, if dripping; when, as I
looked in over the half-door that barred all admittance to the cook's
domain except to a privileged few, what did I see but Sam Jedfoot
sitting down quite cosily in front of a blazing fire he had made up under
the coppers containing the men's tea, which would be served out bye
and bye at `four bells', enjoying himself as comfortably as you please,
and actually playing the banjo--just as if he had nothing else to do, and
there was no such person as Captain Snaggs in existence!
He had his back turned to me, and so could not notice that I was there,
listening to him as he twanged the strings of the instrument and struck
up that `tink-a-tink a tong-tong' accompaniment familiar to all
acquainted with the Christy Minstrels, the cook also humming away
serenely to himself an old ditty dear to the darkey's heart, and which I
had heard the negroes often sing when I was over in New York, on the

previous voyage I had taken a few months before, to which I have
already alluded--when I ran away to sea, and shipped as a cabin boy on
board one of the Liverpool liners, occupying a similar position to that I
now held in the Denver City.
This was the song the cook chaunted, with that sad intonation of voice
for which, somehow or other, the light-hearted African race always
seem to have such a strange predilection. Sam touching the strings of
the banjo in harmonious chords to a sort of running arpeggio
movement:--
"Oh, down in Alabama, 'fore I wer sot free, I lubbed a p'ooty yaller girl,
an' fought dat she lubbed me; But she am proob unconstant, an' leff me
hyar to tell How my pore hart am' breakin' fo' croo-el Nancy Bell!"
He wound up with a resounding "twang" at the end of the bar, before
giving the chorus--
"Den cheer up, Sam! Don' let yer sperrits go down; Dere's many a gal
dat I'se know wal am waitin' fur you in de town!"
"I fancy you do want cheering up, Sam," said I, waiting till he had
finished the verse. "The skipper's in a regular tantrum about you, and
says you're to come aft at once."
"My golly, sonny!" cried he, turning round, with a grin on his ebony
face, that showed all his ivories, and looking in no whit alarmed, as I
expected, at the captain's summons, proceeding to reach up one of his
long arms, which were like those of a monkey, and hang the banjo on
to a cleat close to the roof of the galley, out of harm's way. "What am
de muss about?"
"Because you didn't turn out on deck when all hands were called just
now to reef topsails," I explained. "The `old man' is in a fine passion, I
can tell you, though he didn't notice your not being there at first. It was
that mean sneak, the first-mate, that told him, on purpose to get you
into a row."

"Ah-ha! Jess so, I sabby," said Sam, getting up from his seat; although
he did not look any the taller for standing, being a little man and having
short legs, which, however, were compensated for by his long arms and
broad shoulders, denoting great strength. "I'se know what dat mean
cuss do it fo'--'cause I wouldn't bring no hot coffee to um cabin fo' him
dis mornin'. Me tell him dat lazy