“Ready, sir!” The mate shouted up to the poop deck.
“Helmsman, ease it down,” the captain ordered.
“Helm down, aye, aye, sir,” the helmsman replied.
“Raise tacks and sheets!” The captain shouted
Seamen let go of the main lines then hauled the sails up by their clews so they would swing free. The ship came around, closer to the wind, with sails flopping and rattling, lines flailing, and masts vibrating. Cade could feel the pulsation in his feet through the deck.
The turn slowed as the sails lost the wind’s force and the waves slapping and pounding on the weather side, resisted the vessel’s pivot. Now the ship was almost head to the wind with all momentum lost.
When the captain sensed that the bowsprit was within a point or two of its head into the wind, he yelled the crucial order, “Mainsail haul!”
At once the seamen hauled hard and fast on the mainsail braces, Cade pulling as well, his nausea forgotten. The yard swung around with just enough momentum to bring the bow through so that the ship could push ahead, now with the help of the following waves.
“Starboard Watch, stand down,” Barkley said, and rarely had Cade heard more welcome words.
12
THE STARBOARD WATCH caught a break in that their time on duty ended while the Port Watch, who had worked just as hard in trimming the ship to ride out the storm, had to remain on deck. Cade and the others were able to return to the fo’c’sle for some much needed rest.
“We’ll be at the Plate by mid-mornin’ tomorrow,” Pops said. “We’ll be off-loadin’ some of our goods there, ‘n pickin’ up some tanned cowhides to take to California.”
“Is the Plate a town?”
Pops shook his head. “It’s a river,” he said, “They call it Rio de la Plata. It separates Argentina from Uruguay.”
“What city is there?”
“It’s Buenos Aires, only we won’t be dockin’ there. Fact is, even with the tide in our favor, we can’t get no closer ‘n ten miles from the docks, on account of it’s too shallow. What they do is, they send lighters out to the ship, ‘n we put on them lighters what we’re goin’ to off load here, then some more lighters will be bringin’ the hides out to us. It ain’t nothin’ at all like most ports o’ call, bein’ as there ain’t no goin’ ashore here, no liquor, no women, no nothin’, but stayin on board the ship ‘till all the work is done.”
“Where is Tait?” Bento asked.
“Tait? I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since we stood down,” Cade said. “Pops, Stumpy, have either of you seen him?”
Both men shook their heads.
“I seen ‘im lyin’ up on the fo’c’sle deck near the bo’sun’s locker,” one of the other sailors said.
“What do you mean you saw him lying there?” Cade asked. “You mean he was actually lying on the deck?”
“Yeah, that’s what he was doin’.”
“And you didn’t say or do anything?”
“What did you want me to do? Turn ‘im in? I figured he was just tryin’ to hide from the second mate, seein’ as how Barkley’s been pickin’ on ‘im so much. Seemed to me the best thing to do was just let him stay there.”
“That doesn’t sound right. I’m going up to get him,” Cade said.
“I’ll go with you,” Bento offered.
Cade and Bento scrambled up the companion ladder, and even though it had now grown quite dark, they were able to find the man lying just where the sailor told them he would be.
“Is he alive?” Bento asked.
When Cade touched him, Tait reacted.
“Please, don’t hit me again,” Tait begged. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore.”
“We’re not going to hurt you, Willoughby,” Cade said. “We’re here to help you.”
With Cade on one side, and Bento on the other, the two men helped Tait to the companion ladder way. Cade went down first, then Bento lowered Tait from above, and Cade took him from below so that the two of them managed to get the boy down, and into his own hammock. The back of Tait’s shirt was red with blood, and when Cade tried to take it off, Tait cried out in pain.
Cade had to cut the shirt off in strips.
“My God!” Pops said when he saw Tait’s back. “I been at sea, man and boy for over thirty years, ‘n I ain’t never seen nothin’ this bad.”
There was no part of Tait’s actual skin that could be seen. His back was nothing but bloody welts.
“Stumpy, take a pail up ‘n scoop up some salt water,” Pops said. “We need to clean this boy’s back.”
“Aye, aye,” Stumpy replied, just as if he had been given the order by one of the ship’s officers.
Half an hour later the blood had been washed away, but the wounds still looked just as bad.
“I got some creosote in my sea-bag,” Pops said. “We’ll put some o’ that on him. That’ll ease the pain somewhat, ‘n also keep the wounds from putrifyin’.”
“There’s no way he’ll be able to make watch tonight, or even tomorrow mornin’,” one of the other sailors said.
“It won’t matter that much tonight,” Pops said as, very gently, he applied the black substance, spreading it evenly over Tait’s back. “There won’t be no sail changes to make, so ‘bout the only thing we’ll have to do is be on deck. And Barkley sleeps through most of the night watches anyhow, so he’ll never notice. But we’ll be on watch ‘bout the time the first lighter gets here, ‘n I don’t see no way this boy will be up to helpin’ us off-load the grain. Barkley will for sure notice it then.”
“Maybe if we all just take it up a notch, ‘n get all the work done without ‘im, Barkley won’t even know,” Stumpy suggested.
“He’ll know,” Pops said. “I don’t know why, but he’s got it in just real special for that boy.”
“We’ll just have to see what happens tomorrow,” Cade said.
The Fremad dropped anchor at nine –thirty-five the next morning, which was thirty - one days after leaving New Orleans. At this point they were ten miles off-shore from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, so far that the land was little more than a thin and irregular line on the distant horizon.
When the lighter came alongside, all hands were called on deck to begin unloading the grain that was being delivered here.
The lighter had brought fresh beef and sweet potatoes with it, and as the men worked to move grain from the hold of the Fremad to the deck of the flat hulled scow, the smell of cooking beef permeated the ship. The men worked eagerly, anxious for their first real meal in over a month.
It took an hour and a half for the barge to be loaded, then with its cargo, the lighter started for shore. The Fremad’s time here wasn’t over, however. Before it could leave anchorage, it would have to take on ten tons of tanned cowhides for shipment to San Francisco. The barge with the cowhides had come out to the Fremad at the same time as the lighter which just left. During the morning it had been anchored one hundred yards abeam the starboard, patiently awaiting its turn to come alongside.
“Mr. Drake, give the men half an hour for lunch,” Captain Mumford ordered.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Drake replied.
The men went happily to the galley. Cade petitioned the cook to provide him with an extra bowl to take to Willoughby Tait.
“Ifen he wants to eat, he’ll come here ‘n eat it like ever’ one else,” the cook said.
“He can’t come,” Cade said. “He’s too badly hurt.”
“Hurt? How’d he get hurt? I ain’t heard o’ no one havin’ no accident.”
“He’s been too badly beaten.”
The cook shook his head. “There ain’t hardly no sailor at all that I know of who ain’t felt the lash a time or two. I can’t be doin’ no special favors for someone just ‘cause he ain’t man enough to stand up to a little punishment. Now get on with you.”
Cade had his meal in his bowl and he started toward the table then he stopped.
“What are you going to do, Pogue?” Be
nto asked, still referring to Cade by the name he had learned.
“I’m going to take half my dinner to Tait.”
“I’ll take half of mine, as well.”
“No, you’ll give him one third of yours, I’ll give him one third of mine, and that way, we’ll all three have two thirds.”
Hernandez smiled and nodded his head.
When they reached the fo’c’sle a few minutes later, Tait was lying on his side in his hammock.
“How are you doing?” Cade said.
“I can’t lie on my back.”
“Well, hell, you wouldn’t want to anyway. Pops smeared your back with some black concoction and all you would do is get your hammock dirty. You wouldn’t want to sleep in a dirty hammock, would you?” Cade teased.
Tait smiled. “I guess not.”
“We brought you something to eat.”
Tait shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t think I can eat another bite of salt pork.”
“Who said anything about salt pork? Take a sniff of this,” Cade said.
Tait raised himself up and Cade held the bowl under his nose.
“What is that? Fresh beef? How did we . . .”
“We’re anchored off the coast of Argentina, and the lighter brought it aboard.”
“We’re in port?”
Laboriously, and with help, Tait climbed out of his hammock. “Pogue, here is our opportunity! We could go ashore and see the American consulate here. We could get word to my father and he would send us enough money to get back home.”
“You don’t understand, when I say off the coast, I mean at least ten miles off coast,” Cade said. “We can’t get any closer because the water is too shallow.”
“Where is your bowl? Bento asked. “I am hungry and want to eat.”
“Do you feel up to sitting at the card table? We can eat there,” Cade suggested.
“Yes, I can sit there.”
Tait found his bowl, and at the card table, Cade and Bento apportioned the meals. As Cade hoped it would, the food seemed to make Tait feel better, and he even began to share more of himself.
“There is something I haven’t told either of you,” Tait said. “I haven’t spoken of it before, because the irony is just too bitter to contemplate.”
“Irony?” Bento replied.
“The . . . bitter absurdity,” Tait said. “I told you my father is a wealthy man in Boston. What I didn’t tell you is that he owns a shipping company.” Tait waved his hand, taking in the ship. “And now, here I am, a common sailor on a ship just like the dozen or so he owns.”
“Tait Shipping Company?” Bento said. “I shipped out once on the Success.”
“Yes! That’s one of my father’s ships!” Tait said, showing more animation than he had at any time since coming on board. He laughed. “You know what; this might turn out to be a good thing. One day I will probably own that company. And because of my experience on this ship, I will make certain that everyone who sails for me will be fairly treated.”
“Well, Bento and I need to get back to work,” Cade said when they finished eating.
“Maybe I had better try and come with you,” Tait suggested.
“Don’t be silly. In your condition you would just get in the way,” Cade said.
They heard someone coming down the ladder and looking toward it, saw that it was the second mate.
“Here you are, you malingerin’ bastards,” Barkley said. “It’s time to get back to work.”
“We’re going,” Cade said, as he and Bento started toward the ladder.
“You didn’t repair for duty this morning, did you?” Barkley said, walking over to the table where Tait was still sitting. “It’s to the mast with you . . .you sniveling son of a bitch, and thirty lashes this time.”
Cade, who by now had reached the foot of the ladder, turned back toward the second mate.
“Are you insane, Barkley? He’s in no condition to work, and thirty lashes would kill him.”
“Then I’ll just take care of him here,” Barkley growled.
Both Cade and Bento started back toward the table where Tait was sitting, defenseless before Barkley’s assault. Cade didn’t notice until it was too late that Barkley was carrying a bludgeon. When Cade reached for him, Barkley whirled around, the club striking Cade just above his ear. Cade went down.
“Bastardo!” Bento shouted, just before Barkley turned the club on him as well.
Now, with neither Cade nor Bento able to interfere, Barkley turned all his attention, and his fury on the boy who sat helpless before him.
“You have been nothing but trouble ever since you were brought aboard!” Barkley said, hitting Tait in the face with his club. The blow broke Tait’s nose, and it began to bleed. Tait cried out and put both hands in front of his face. That seemed to anger Barkley even more, and he brought the club down with even more force on Tait’s head, and Tait collapsed onto the table.
Cade managed to get to his feet, and seeing a broken belaying pin on the deck near the bulkhead, he grabbed it.
“Barkley,” Cade said. “Leave the boy alone!”
With a loud, guttural yell, Barkley raised his club and charged Cade. Cade stepped to one side, like a matador teasing a bull, then he brought the belaying pin down on the second mate’s head with as much force as he could muster. Barkley collapsed.
“Willoughby!” Cade shouted, and he hurried to the boy’s inert form.
Tait groaned.
“Thank God you’re alive.”
“I don’t feel like I’m alive,” Tait said.
“Barkley’s dead,” Bento said from his squatting position by the second mate’s body.
“You’d better get out of here, fast,” Cade said. “There’s no way the captain is going to believe that you had no hand in this.”
“I do have a hand in this, Pogue,” Bento replied.
“He’s right, he did have a hand in it,” a third voice said, and Cade saw Pops standing at the foot of the ladder. “And now, so do I.”
“Pops! When did you get here?” Cade asked.
“I’ve been here long enough to know that you were right in what you did. But Barkley was an officer, and the word of an ordinary seaman ain’t goin’ to keep either one of you from bein’ hung. You’re both goin’ to have to run.”
“Run? How are we going to run? We’re ten miles off shore.”
“You let me handle that,” Pops said. He looked down at Barkley’s body. “First thing we’re goin’ to have to do is get rid of this son of a bitch.”
“What are we going to do with him?”
“We’ll put ‘im in the bo’sun’s locker, it’s far enough forward that nobody will see us, ‘n it’ll more ‘n like be several hours a’fore he’s found. By that time you two will be gone.”
Bento was the first one to the body, and he stuck his hand into Barkley’s pocket, then brought out a wad of currency.
“Look,” he said holding it up. “He had forty dollars!”
“That’s good,” Pops said. “Five dollars will get the two of you ashore, but you’d better hang on to the rest ‘cause you’re goin’ to be a’ needin’ it.”
13
“BEFORE WE MOVE HIM, we need to get Willoughby back in his hammock.”
“Do you think he’ll be . . .”
“All right? Yeah, especially now that Barkley won’t be hitting him anymore. He’s going to have a headache and a sore back for a few days, but I’ll take care of him.”
“I owe you my life, Pogue,” Tait said. “I think Barkley would have killed me.”
“Listen, maybe it’s time I told all of you something. My name isn’t Pogue Copley, it’s Cade McCall. I’ve got a brother, Adam, in Clarksville, Tennessee. If I don’t get off this ship alive, I’d like someone to get word to him.”
“I understand,” Pops said.
After hiding Barkley’s body, Cade, Bento, and Pops went to mid-deck. They were the first ones there, the crew was still enjoying their meal
in the galley, while the captain, Mr. Drake, and Bo’sun Higgins had not yet left the officer’s dining salon. The scow was tied alongside, and the three men of its crew were sitting on one of the bundles of cowhides, waiting to transfer their cargo to the Fremad.
“Give me five dollars,” Pops said.
Bento gave him a bill, and Pops climbed down into the barge, then engaged the boat master in a conversation that required many gestures and a lot of pointing. Finally the lighter master nodded his head, and took the proffered money.
Shortly after that, the work party returned, followed a moment later by the captain, the first mate, and the bo’sun.
“Burke, what are you doin’ down there?” the first mate asked.
“These here fellers was askin’ if they could have three men come down here to help ‘em with the loadin’,” Pops replied.
“Sure, grab a couple more,” Drake said.
“Copley, Hernandez, you’re in the Starboard Watch, climb down here,” Pops ordered, and quickly, the two men responded.
“Speaking of the Starboard Watch, where is Mr. Barkley?” Captain Mumford asked.
“I ain’t seen ‘im since he got up from the dinner table,” the bo’sun said.
“Well, until he shows up, you’re in charge of his watch.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
For the next half hour, Cade, Bento, Pops, and the three lighter crewmen began cutting down the size of the cargo that had been brought out. For the entire time they worked, Cade worried that someone was going to discover Barkley’s body in the bo’sun’s locker. Then, shortly before the last four bundles were passed up, the captain of the lighter signaled that Cade and Bento should get into the engine room, and this they did.
Not until they were a mile or so away from the Fremad did the two come out onto the deck.
When they drew alongside the lighter that had taken the grain from the Fremad, Cade saw that it was anchored at least three miles off shore, and still three-quarters filled with the bags of grain. Then he saw a very strange thing, horses, hip-deep in water, were drawing high-wheeled carts out to the anchored boat.
The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set Page 10
