Wild Life in the Land of the Giants: A Tale of Two Brothers

by Burt L. Standish

we brothers took the position of second and thirdmates on the _Salamander_. There really was no such rating as thirdmate, but the captain and everyone else who had anything to do with theship, knew well we would not be parted if possible.

  In all these years we had only been twice home, for our ship had whatmight be called a roving commission. Captain Coates was part owner ofher and the rest of the owners knew well he would do all for the best,so that when abroad he invariably took whatever turned uppermost in theshape of trade. When unlading at one port, he seldom knew where hewould be sailing to next. Sometimes we would take several trips backand fore between the same two ports. In a word, Captain Coates despisedno trade or trip either by which he saw his way to make an honest penny.

  On our last return home, we found that mamma was much more cheerful andresigned, that Auntie Serapheema had not yet got married. It was noteven rumoured that she had refused many offers. She seemed wholly boundup in mamma.

  Mummy Gray, Sarah, and Robert, were just as we had left them, Robert andTrots the pony being both stiffening a trifle with age.

  Mattie was grown almost out of "kenning," as the Scotch say. She hadslipped up, but she was none the less wonderfully beautiful.

  Peter told her in his off-hand way, in Auntie's presence too, that whenshe was a few years older he might possibly make love to her, andprobably marry her, but not to build upon this as a promise.

  Mattie told him he was an old man, and he had better marry Sarah. Shesaid Robert wouldn't mind, because Robert had Trots, the pony.

  Mattie, and Jill, and I, visited the _Thunderbolt_. Mr Moore was stillin charge, and we talked much of old times and poor Tom Morley, but wedid not play at pirates, though Mrs Moore pulled out the black flag anddisplayed it. She was always going to keep it, she said, as a mementoof days gone by.

  On board the hulk, Mattie took me aside to show me something, which shedid with sparkling eyes and a heightened colour. It was only the littleletter that I had put on her pillow.

  "But," said Mattie, "of course we always pray for you when far away atsea, only there is one word in this letter that I don't like, quite Imean."

  "And what is that, Mattie?"

  "Why do you say, `Poor Jill'?" I do not know how it was, but at thatvery moment a kind of shadow passed over my heart: I cannot otherwisedefine it--a kind of cold feeling.

  "I don't know, Mattie," I replied, looking, I'm sure more serious than Iintended, for my looks were mirrored in Mattie's face. "I don't know,Mattie; but I often think something will happen to `poor Jill'--"

  "There it is again--`poor Jill.'"

  "Only," I added, "Heaven, forbid it should be in my lifetime, Mattie."

  "Amen," said the child.

  It was while I was at home this time--this last time for many years--that a very curious thing happened. A sailor died at Cardiff, and onhis death-bed called a priest and confessed to him that he alone hadbeen the murderer of Roderigo, the Spanish sailor and companion ofAdriano, who had suffered so long in prison.

  I felt extremely happy about this, and so did auntie. She, of course,had not known the story of the man at the time when he was instrumentalin saving Jill and me from probably an ugly fate. I had told herafterwards, however, when I knew Adriano had gone out of the country.And, with some show of reason perhaps, both auntie and Mummy Grayconnected him and the murdered Roderigo with the mystery that enshroudedMattie's life.

  "He will come again some day," auntie said, "and we will know all."

  "Yes," said Mummy Gray, solemnly, "I hope so."

  The Queen granted Adriano a free pardon. Auntie was disloyal enough tolaugh when she read that piece of intelligence in the newspaper.

  "Pardon for what?" she said, "after having kept the poor dear sailor inprison and bondage for so many terrible years. It sounds like addinghideous insult to awful injury."

  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  "COME TO ME, JACK, I CANNOT COME TO YOU."

  Peter Jeffries, now chief mate of the dear old _Salamander_, could nomore help chaffing Jill and me, than a monkey can help pulling itsmother's tail. And we used to tell him so.

  For instance, brother and I nearly always kept watch together, merelyfor company's sake. You see we were both put in the same watch becausethe _Salamander_ required no third mate. So Peter did not hesitate toremind us often enough that we were only one man between the two of us.But the fact was we were kept together on the _Salamander_, at auntie'swish, in order to become perfect sailors under bold Captain Coates, andnot, as Peter would have it, that we might have our socks seen to byMrs Coates, and our pocket-handkerchiefs aired by the black but comelyLeila.

  However, by way of paying him out for it, Jill would sometimes keepPeter's watch for him, and let him have four hours extra in, thusreturning wheat for chaff.

  During the next year of our life, Jill and I grew to to be quite men--seventeen, you know, or nearly--and Jill reminded Peter that he couldthrash him now, for we really were taller.

  The resemblance between us was not a whit marred, and to tell you thetruth we took a pride in it, and, just for the fun of the thing, alwaysdressed exactly alike, even to our scarves.

  About this time we were bound from the Cape to Rio, which we made infine form, though we kept a good look-out for Russian cruisers, it beingwar time. We often met ships that made us fidget for the time being,but the danger was never extreme at the best.

  From Rio we started for San Francisco, meaning at first to go round theHorn, but Captain Coates changed his mind, and determined to penetratethrough the Straits of Magellan.

  We received the first intimation of the captain's intention from Peter,when he came on deck one lovely morning to join my brother and me in ourwalk.

  There was about a six-knot breeze blowing aslant our course from thesouth-west by west, so though every stitch of canvas was set, there wasnot a deal doing.

  "The old man says you're to keep a few points closer to the wind," saidPeter.

  "All right," I replied, giving the necessary orders.

  Peter was in one of his funny moods to-day, I knew, because he askedJill if, having nothing else to do, he would mind whistling for somemore wind.

  "For a capful, if you like," said Jill, merrily; "may I have your cap tohold it in?"

  "Now, youngster, I own you're smart, but never cheek your superiorofficer. Besides, I'm older than either of you, and if you're both goodboys I'm going to marry your sister."

  We laughed outright.

  "Thank you," said Jill, "that is very good. I remember you told Mattieherself that last time we were home, and I thought at the time cheekcouldn't well go further."

  "If anybody marries Mattie," continued Jill, "it must be Jack."

  "Jack! What! Marry his sister?"

  I grew suddenly serious.

  "My dear Peter," I said, "it is strange that through all these years itnever occurred to me to tell you that Mattie is not our sister, thoughwe call her so, and love her just the same, but--"

  "Just the same as a sister?" said Peter, interrupting me. He had asmile on his face, but it was a made one--one of those smiles that curlround the lips, but never reach as far as the eyes; at the same time inthose eyes was a look of such earnestness as I but seldom saw there.

  Jill and I were standing side by side looking at Peter, and as thelatter spoke, our hands touched. I knew then, as I do now--thoughneither my brother nor I ever spoke of it--that the same thoughtthrilled through both of us: "Could Peter be in love with our littleMattie? To be sure she was barely fifteen, but then--"

  "I _ought_ to have told you," I continued, "that there is a sad mysteryabout Mattie's birth and parentage."

  "Ha!" said Peter, "a story, eh? Well, we will have it to-night in thefirst watch."

  "Very well."

  Peter brightened up again immeasurably.

  "Do you know why we altered course?" he asked.

  "Usual thing, I suppose."

  "No, not the usual thing.

 
"We're going to try to push through the straits. Fine weather, clearskies, a spanking bit of a breeze, and good luck will do it, though itis risky enough in all weathers for sailing ships, 'cause of courseyou're in and out, off and on, tacking and running, and all kinds ofcapers, and never off a lee-shore, morn, noon, and night, till you'reout into the Pacific Ocean.

  "Ever hear of Magellan, Greenie?" he continued, looking at poor Jill.He often called Jill "Greenie," which he said was a pet name.

  Now Jill and I knew all the history of the great navigator of ancienttimes. Our Aunt Serapheema took good care of that.

  "Magellan? let me see," said Jill. "Oh yes, there used to be a Magellanwho kept a