CHAPTER XIII
Crossing the Line
"Mr. Mostyn."
"Sir?"
"Did you by any chance use the owner's code-book during the middlewatch?"
"No, sir."
"Very good; carry on."
This was the brief conversation between the Captain and the WirelessOfficer. The Old Man had by some unaccountable intuition fostered theidea that the code-book was the object of the intruder's presence.Mostyn had a right to make use of it, and, before probing deeper intothe problem, Captain Bullock had questioned him.
The skipper had a keen insight into human nature. In his officialcapacity he had come into contact with hundreds, nay thousands, ofhuman beings for whose safety and welfare he, under Providence, wasresponsible. Some were notables, the majority common-placeindividuals, and not a few persons with unenviable reputations. He hadhad on board escaping murderers, defaulting company promoters,fraudulent trustees, absconding cashiers, and a variety of othercriminals from the "flash" cracksman to the common "lag". Professionalgamblers, sharpers, and pickpockets had passed his way on the broadhighway between Great Britain and the Dominion of South Africa.
Captain Bullock was generally very quick in "knowing his man". Rarelywas he mistaken in his speedy yet calculating judgment. Already he hadhis Wireless Officer "sized up", and the verdict was favourable. HencePeter Mostyn's "No, sir," was sufficient. The Old Man knew that he hadspoken the truth and that he was not the mysterious intruder.
Anstey, the officer of the watch, was likewise questioned. He, too,was emphatic that he had not entered the Captain's cabin, nor had heseen anyone doing so during the middle watch.
For some days Captain Bullock pondered over the incident, blaminghimself for not having challenged the intruder. Then he began to letthe matter dwindle in importance, and by the time the ship reached LasPalmas he had practically forgotten all about it.
In fine, excessively hot weather the _West Barbican_ approached theLine. No tropical storm greeted her as she entered the once dreadedDoldrums, that belt of calms which has yielded its powers of holdingships captive for days on end, to the all-conquering steam andinternal-combustion engines. Rarely now is there a sailing-ship to besighted wallowing helplessly in the Doldrums, her decks and topsidesopening with the terrific heat, and her crew driven almost mad with thetorturing glare of the tropical sun. Auxiliary power has changed allthat, and even the huge, square-rigged ship engaged in trading roundthe Horn is now equipped with a semi-Diesel capable of pushing heralong at a modest four or five knots in a calm.
Preparations to pay the customary honours to Father Neptune were infull swing on board the _West Barbican_. For days before the ship wasdue to cross the Line all the officers and twenty-five per cent of thepassengers became temporary inquiry agents. Seemingly casualconversation was entered into with the primary object of discoveringwho had or who had not "crossed the Line". Within a few minutes of anunguarded remark being made by a passenger to the effect that he hadnot been in southern latitudes, that fact was duly recorded in anotebook by the indefatigable Acting Chief Officer. Preston was averitable sleuth-hound in these matters, and already his "bag" wasassuming favourable proportions.
Among the names recorded were those of Partridge and Plover. The twoWatchers had never heard of the time-honoured ceremony, and were inutter ignorance of the ordeal through which they would have to pass.Their lack of general knowledge, combined with a somewhat surlyreticence, had made them no friends on board. They kept to themselves,hardly exchanging a word with anyone else except when duty compelledthem to speak.
At length the eventful day arrived when the ship was due to cross theparallel of maximum length. Soon after day-break eager lascars hadbeen employed in spreading a huge tarpaulin over a rectangular frame,so as to form a large bath. At one end, facing the for'ard portion ofthe promenade deck, a platform was erected and draped with bunting.Behind locked doors officers off duty lurked in their cabins,contriving weird and startling disguises for the Sea King's festival.The donkey-engines were started--not with the idea of ejecting bilgewater, but for the purpose of pumping a copious supply of salt waterinto the improvised tank.
On the bridge Preston was "shooting the sun". Again and again helevelled his sextant, until he was satisfied that the ship was within afew miles of the Line. Then, hastily reporting the fact to the OldMan, he disappeared down the companion-ladder to change with the utmostspeed into a wondrous garb comprised chiefly of a bathing-suit,seaweed, and oyster-shells. Next, assisted by an individual whoresembled a cross between George Robey and Little Tich, and who was toappear as the doctor, Father Neptune donned flowing locks and beard ofpicked oakum, assumed a massive crown of tinsel, and grasped histrident.
At that moment the ship's siren gave a terrific blast. It was thesignal that Neptune's cortege had been sighted by the look out for'ard.
The fo'c'sle and foremost shrouds were packed with eagerlygesticulating lascars; native firemen squatted on the decks on eitherside of the tank, and clung like flies to the stanchion-rails. On thepromenade deck all available camp-chairs had been pressed into serviceand were occupied by excited passengers, trying to keep cool in vain,in spite of the double awnings.
Presently Captain Bullock, resplendent in white tropical uniform withgilt buttons and shoulder-straps, descended from the bridge and took upa position in the centre of the front row of crowded deck-chairs.
"Ahoy!" roared a deep voice for'ard. "What ship is that?"
"The S.S. _West Barbican_, of and from London," bawled the Old Man inreply.
"Then harkee, Skipper. Father Neptune demands entrance and the honourdue to his exalted rank."
"Come aboard, sir," rejoined the Old Man.
Heralded by a fanfare from hand fog-horns, and a terrific din from avariety of metal implements, begged, borrowed, or stolen from thegalley, Father Neptune appeared not exactly over but close to the bows.Brandishing his trident he bellowed a nautical greeting, and proceededto assist his Queen through the limited space of the hatchway. It wassoon evident that the lady was in difficulties and a plainly audible,"Steady on, old man," delivered in a very masculine voice, had theeffect of raising a boisterous chorus of laughter from the sightseers.
Amphitrite, disentangled from the embraces of a catch on thehatch-cover, appeared in her lord's wake, but the effect of her flowinglocks of golden hair and her deeply rouged face were somewhat marred bythe display of a pair of unmistakably masculine hands and feet.
The doctor and the barber next struggled for publicity, eachquestioning the other's right of precedence, with the result that eachcontrived to get his head through the hatchway and no farther.
It was not until the barber had converted the doctor's hat into aconcertina that the former contrived to make a complete appearance,followed by the doctor, who, in his broad Scotch that betrayed him asM'Turk the Chief Engineer, requested his companion "not to play thefule beforr your time".
Then came the bears--grotesquely garbed fellows recruited mainly fromthe Chief Steward's department, but with the residue of the engineersoff duty to leaven the whole lump. Almost before King Neptune and hisQueen were seated upon their respective thrones the zealous bears hadscattered to rope in the victims of the revels.
The first to be brought into the arena was Watcher Partridge. Hisopposite number, scenting trouble, had deserted him, and was making hisway to the stokehold, hotly pursued by a couple of brawny bears.
Partridge submitted sullenly. Without a word or act of protest he wasled before the doctor.
"Are ye no' weel, laddie?" inquired the doctor. "Open your mouth andshow your tongue."
The bird obeyed.
The next instant he was spluttering and coughing, for the doctor haddexterously placed a pill, composed of the unholiest ingredients of theengineers' stores, in the wide-open cavity. Still spluttering, he wasagain seized by the attendant bears, blindfolded, and forced into thebarber's chair.
The barber e
yed the agitated Partridge dispassionately.
"Hair cut or shave?" he inquired, and, receiving no reply, he seizedone of his razors, a formidable-looking instrument fashioned out of abarrel stave.
A few deft strokes and the deed was done. Partridge, released from thechair, sprang to his feet amidst the delighted howls of the spectators.One side of his face was streaked with Stockholm tar, the other withred ochre.
"Run for it!" exclaimed one of the bears, guiding the bewilderedPartridge towards the tank. The bird hopped it, trod on air as onefoot overstepped the narrow edge, and, with a sousing splash, heplunged headlong into the water.
He had barely time to gasp for breath when a bear ducked him. Thricethis operation was repeated before the pie-bald Watcher was allowed toescape, without even receiving King Neptune's congratulations uponbecoming a Son of the Sea.
The while other victims were being attended to by the doctor and thebarber, and unceremoniously bundled into the tank.
For the most part they accepted the situation with a good grace. Inthe case of the passengers who had not crossed the Line before, certainallowances had been made for them; nevertheless some were ratherrigorously handled before receiving their diplomas as Freemen of theSeas. Since they had received short notice to the effect that it wouldbe as well if they "rigged out" to be in readiness for a ducking, theytook the hint, changing into bathing-costumes or any old clothesobtainable.
One passenger, a burly, six-feet-two individual, with huge bicepsshowing up under the tight sleeves of his bathing-suit, certainly gavethe bears a run for their money; for, when they went to bring him toNeptune's court, they found that he had put on a pair of boxing-gloves.
"Come on!" he exclaimed, with a good-tempered laugh. "I'll take on thewhole crowd, Neptune included."
Nothing loth, a plucky little bear stooped and rushed in to collar thedefiant passenger round the waist. The next instant he was sentstaggering into the arms of one of his companions, and the twofloundered on the deck, capsizing the barber and his two pots of ochreand tar.
"At him, lads!" roared Neptune, forgetting in his excitement that hewas playing the role of King of the Sea.
Five or six bears rushed at the man from opposite sides. He waiteduntil they were almost on him, then, without the faintest sign of hisintention, dived straight at the feet of those on his right.
There was weight and power behind those hunched shoulders. Three ofhis assailants, swept off their feet, crashed to the deck, while theircomrades, unable to check the impetus of their rush, tumbled in aconfused heap upon the baffled, sprawling three.
From under this struggling mob, like a porpoise in an angry sea,emerged the stalwart passenger. Springing to his feet he dashed up theladder to the promenade-deck, cleared a way between the throng ofspectators, who cheered him heartily, and gained the boat-deck.
For a while he paused to contemplate the sorting out of the discomfitedbears; then, finding his pursuers hard on his track, he scaled the sideof the wireless-cabin. On the roof he took up his stand. With hisbroad back against the trunk of the aerial it looked as if he couldhold his own against all comers.
The lascars were beside themselves with excitement. The passengers,leaving the shelter of the double awnings, stood under the blazing sun,straining their eyes in the dazzling glare as they watched the tacticsof their champion.
"Lasso him, lads!" shouted Neptune, laying aside his trident andpreparing to take an active part in the subjugation of his recalcitrantsubject.
Some of the bears hurried off to obtain ropes. Others waited by thebase of the wireless-cabin, feeling decidedly uncomfortable as the hotsun played upon their scanty, wet garments.
Just then another party of bears came for'ard dragging the lucklessPlover, whom they had captured in an empty bunker.
The appearance of the second bird created a diversion. The bearsguarding the wireless-cabin, eager to witness the initiation of theunpopular Plover, lost interest in the huge passenger on the roof.
In a trice the latter slid down to the bridge, swung himself down by astanchion to the promenade-deck and thence to the enemies' camp--thetemporary court of Father Neptune.
Hurling aside the doctor, who had already received rougher treatmentthan he had meted out to his victims, the defiant subject of KingNeptune made a bull-like rush for that august monarch.
The next moment they were at grips. In spite of wearing boxing-glovesthe stalwart passenger held Neptune tightly round the waist. Thelatter strove with his sinewy hands to disengage himself from thepowerful embrace. In the struggle Neptune's tinsel crown slipped overone eye and his tow-beard fell off, revealing the rugged features ofActing Chief Officer Preston.
For about thirty seconds the two men struggled furiously, yet thekeenest observer could detect no trace of bad temper. The adversarieswere sportsmen both, who knew how to keep themselves under control.
With the sweat pouring in streams down their faces they continuedswaying and heaving. Both were of about the same weight and build.Preston had the handicap of about ten years, but he was as fit as afiddle and hard as nails.
Amphitrite had discreetly retired from the arena, while the bears,unwilling to take an unfair advantage of their intended prey, stood ina semicircle, impartially encouraging both adversaries. Even CaptainBullock, who through long usage had become bored stiff with the"crossing of the Line revels", was on his feet shouting excitedly atthe novel spectacle of Neptune being bearded in his den.
Suddenly the unexpected climax happened.
Before anyone could utter a warning or check the impetuous movement ofthe two wrestlers, Preston was forced to the edge of the temporarydais, which was on a level with the wire guard-rails.
Probably his antagonist was blinded by the perspiration running intohis eyes, because he failed to see the danger resulting from hisheadlong rush.
Locked in each other's arms the two men disappeared over the side ofthe ship.
THE TWO MEN DISAPPEARED OVER THE SIDE OF THE SHIP]
The Wireless Officer Page 13
