Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer Fish

by Herrick Johnstone

  CHAPTER VI.

  CROSSING THE LINE.

  The greatest holiday at sea is that of crossing the Equator. It is rarefun to the initiated, but to those who have the process in prospect itis a cause of sleepless nights and considerable mental anguish.

  The time drew rapidly on for the celebration of this holiday on boardthe Queer Fish. We were busy making preparations for it, a long timebeforehand. Almost every one was in excellent humor. Our cruise had,thus far, been eminently successful. We had captured upward of twelvevessels since our departure from Boston--a period of not more than twomonths. The prospect was that, if we should bring the cruise to asuccessful conclusion, we would each and all have something snug laid upat home, with ease and comfort the balance of our lives. So we were in amost excellent frame of mind for the merry-making that drew nigh.

  Stop! There were a few exceptions. If any of you had been on the QueerFish for a day or two prior to the passage of the equinox, you wouldhave noticed, I think, a certain fidgetyness in the manner of both DickyDrake and Mr. Adolphus de Courcy, in strange contrast to the generalcheerfulness of every one else. The latter of these individuals, it istrue, would pretend to be exceedingly careless and free-and-easy. Hewould be heard to hum the scraps of a great many little melodies and towhistle scraps of a great many more, but you would notice, upon closeobservation, that it was all put on, and that he was in reality faint atheart.

  Poor Dicky Drake hadn't the duplicity necessary for any suchmake-believe as this. He began to look miserable from the very momentthat it became known that the equinox was to be passed, and continued togrow worse from day to day, until the despondency of the poor lad waspositively pitiful, and I secretly promised myself to exert my influenceto render _his_ share of the initiation as light as possible.

  There had existed some controversy as to whether Roddy Prinn and hislittle chum, Willie Warner, were not also "liable." But they hadsucceeded in proving to the satisfaction of Captain Joker, that they hadmade the passage from Rio to the Bermudas, and it had eventually beendecided that they were exempt.

  There were several others of the crew, who were prospective victims. Butthey were genuine sailors, who really took the thing philosophically.One of them, a little Irishman, by the name of Teddy Tight, swore thathe longed for the day to arrive, and that he didn't sleep "aisy" forthinking of the fun in store for him.

  The preparations we had been and were making, were somewhat extensive.Everything was prepared beforehand, and we had several rehearsals. OldNick was to represent Neptune, and, from the description I have given ofhim, you may judge that he suited the character to a T. Bluefish waschosen for Amphitrite, the wife of the Ruler of the Waves, and, thoughhe had an unladylike habit of hitching up his skirts whenever he wantedto use his jack-knife, it was thought that he would go off verycreditably. I was one of the Tritons, whose principal duty, on theoccasion, was to assist at the initiation of neophytes, while TonyTrybrace, Roddy Prinn and Willie Warner were among the Nereids, who sungthe mystic songs of the ceremony. I can't vouch for the poetic merit ofthese musical attempts. One of them was:

  "We come from the depths of the ocean Where Neptune is the king. And the waves, with their commotion, Keep time with what we sing.

  "Huzza for the flag of the Union, The Stars and the Stripes of the free Our flag is the flag of the ocean, Huzza for the flag of the free!"

  I cannot say who was the author of these stanzas, but am compelled toadmit that I should keep exceedingly dark on the subject, if _I_ werethe author.

  Another fragment (even worse than that already quoted) ran:

  "Father Neptune, he is jolly, Drink, lads, drink away! Father Nep. hates melancholy, Joy reigns at the bottom of the _say_.

  "Drink, lads, drink, for Union, The old flag must have sway, Father Nep. hates communion, Down at the bottom of the say."

  I reckon the author of these must have been an Irishman; at any rate, noone can question him as a poet.

  Well, the day at length arrived.

  According to rules, the novices were kept in strict confinement, tillthe performance was ready to commence. The little captain stood lookingon, impatiently waiting for the opening ceremonies.

  At eight bells, all was ready. Neptune was in his throne, with a beardas blue as the sea, and with a great crown of shells and sea-weed strunground his brows. He had a conch-shell for a breast-pin, and each of hisshoes, or, rather, slippers, were surmounted with a large,brilliant-hued bivalve.

  Amphitrite sat by his side, with her flowing locks--constructed ofoakum--spangled with many varieties of weeds and shells and her longbeard (think of a sea queen with a beard!) daintily braided and plaitedinto grotesque ringlets, while her long, blue paper-muslin robe wasintended to have a resemblance to the sea she ruled. The Nereids weregrouped around, looking excessively feminine and bewitching (to asailor), with their long hair, and sea-green garments; while we merryTritons were rigged in a little more convenient costume, as our work wasto be heavy; but, rely on it, we looked hideous enough.

  As the ship's bells struck eight, three of us, at a signal from theRuler of the Waves, dove down below, and appeared, a moment afterward,with Dicky Drake, our first victim.

  The poor fellow was almost scared to death. He eyed the variouscontrivances, which had been prepared for his benefit, and shudderedfrom his cap to his boots.

  "Bring forth the culprit!" roared Father Neptune, in a voice of thunder;and we led the trembling victim before the throne.

  "What is his crime?" was the lofty question of the ocean king.

  "I ain't done nothin', yer Honor," began Dicky, thinking he might getoff by an eloquent appeal. "Yer see, I was brought up in Salem, I was--aplace as has furnished a great many sailors for yer Majesty's dominions.It's true I never crossed the line, yer know, but yer see, I almost didit onc't. It all as happened in this 'ere way. Ole Si Jinkins and I, westarted out on a mackerel fishin' an' got driv' away down south, almostonto the equator, when a sou'east storm springs up, and sends us back ajoe-kiting. Well, as I was about ter say--"

  "Peace!" roared Neptune in a voice of thunder.

  "Yes, your Majesty, but yer see--"

  "Peace!"

  "Oh, yes! Wery good! but, as I was about ter say, the--"

  "Peace, or I'll kick yer inter Davy Jones's locker!" was the dignifiedinterruption, and Dicky stopped short.

  "Lead the prisoner to the plank!" was the final order of Neptune.

  Visions of "walking the plank" immediately rose up before the wretchedyouth, and he began to appeal in heartrending accents.

  "But I didn't go an' do nothin', yer know. I was allers exceedinglyrespectful and perlite. Onc't on a time, I see'd a feller spit inter thesea, an' I remonstrated with indignation, because I thought yer Honormight be averse to tobacco. Yer see--"

  "Silence! Lead him to the plank and shave him!" roared the implacablesea-god, and we led him away.

  A great tank of water was situated right in front of the throne, andbetween the fore and mainmasts of the ship. Over this was drawn a lightplank of pine. And the tank, we might as well mention now as any time,was filled with salt water.

  Upon this plank we seated our victim, and began to lather him withsoft-soap, without paying any regard to his sight. He gave a wild shriekas the suds went into his eyes (but he had had fair warning from me tokeep them shut). Then, as my comrade held him fast, I proceeded toscrape his face with the piece of an iron hoop, which I had picked upand somewhat sharpened for the purpose. I laid it on as lightly as Icould, but, nevertheless, the performance was so ridiculously painfulthat the poor fellow yelled again with agony. For the sharp but grittyedge of the saw-like razor would grab the few hairs he had on the chin,and would pull outrageously.

  At length the barbering performance was over, and poor Dicky thoughtthat he had got through the whole passage of the equinox.

  But, no sooner was he shaved than the plank was suddenly je
rked fromunder him, and down he went into the cold sea-water, where he flounderedabout fully a dozen seconds before he could scramble out.

  He was next submitted to the tumbling apparatus. This was nothing morenor less than the mizzen-royal in the hands of a dozen men or so, two orthree grabbing each corner, while the victim was tossed into the middle,where he was flung up and down, now and then letting him down far enoughto give him a good bump against the deck. We finished him up with akeel-haul. There are two ways of doing this. The old way consisted inmaking the victim fast by either ankle, and then flinging him overboardat the bow, dragging him under the keel, with a rope on either side ofthe ship. But this was never resorted to as pastime; in fact, it wasconsidered the worst of nautical punishments. Victims frequently diedunder its infliction. If anything of that kind had been tried under theQueer Fish, the sufferer would most certainly have had a hard time ofit. For our bottom was completely covered with that small variety of thecarbuncle shell-fish, known to seamen as ship-lice, and any one beingdragged against them, would have been terribly lacerated.

  But, of course, nothing of _that_ kind was to be attempted upon such amerry and good-humored craft as the Queer Fish. _Our_ keel-haulingsimply consisted in making the victim fast by the ankles, and shootinghim out far behind in the wake of the vessel (always making sure thatthere were no sharks in the neighborhood), and whisking him back againbefore he could well know how wet he was.

  Poor Dicky Drake had stood everything else like a man, but his soulinstinctively revolted from keel-hauling--though, to tell the truth, itwas by far the easiest punishment inflicted in our category.

  We made fast to his ankles, and swung him over the side, in spite of hisentreaties. The ship was going at a spanking pace--a good eight knots anhour--as Dicky touched the water at her foaming wake. We let out livelyon the lines, and away he sped, a good fifteen fathoms, from the ship.He squealed like a stuck pig as he hit the water, but we brought himback so quick that his head swam.

  We then led him up to the throne of Father Neptune, who stretched hiswithered hands over his head, blessed him, and proclaimed him a true sonof the sea--made so by his last baptism therein. The victim was thenpermitted to dress himself, was given a rousing glass of grog, and in afew moments felt as merry as a king, quite anxious to laugh at the nextvictim. They followed, one after another, amid roars of laughter. Mostof them were old tars, who took the thing as an excellent joke, and wetherefore made little out of them.

  At last there were only two victims left. These were Teddy Tight and Mr.Adolphus de Courcy. The latter was reserved as the last, because weexpected to have the most fun out of him; end the former was kept asnext to last, because we half suspected that his eager anticipation ofthe fun that was in store for him was all gammon, and merely put on tocloak his terror.

  In fact it was the testimony of each of his predecessors in the"ceremonies" that, as his turn came nearer and nearer, Teddy's couragebegan to sink until, at last, it was at zero. When we led the doughtylittle Irishman on deck, he was as pale as a ghost, and shook like aleaf.

  On being led before the august presence of Father Neptune, however, hisnative blarney began to overflow, and excuse after excuse began to bepoured out in a profusion which would have been limitless, if we had notcut him short.

  "Och, yer Honor!" he cried, "w'at has yer Honor got ag'in' sich a poorlittle spalpeen as meself? Sure, an' hav'n't I sarved yer Honor well, byland and by say? Let me off this time, and I'll sarve ye better thaniver. Och, yer Honor, ye must surely remimber me father. He was owldBarney Tight of Killarney. The way he would lick any one who would dareto say onything ag'in' yer Honor's character was a caution to thewoorld. An' there was me uncle. Och, an' he was an ixcellent mon, yerHonor. I see'd him onc't knock the top-lights out of a murtherin'spalpeen who was afther injurin' yer Honor's reputation. An' there wasmy sister--God rest her sowl!--you should 'a' see'd her when she--"

  "Silence!" was the gruff reply of the ruler of the waves; and Teddy,though he kicked and squirmed like an ugly worm on a bodkin, was putthrough the necessary course of sprouts in short order, but with a will.

  Then Mr. Adolphus de Courcy was led up amid peals of laughter. He hadhad the philosophy to strip himself, with the exception of a pair of oldpantaloons, and now appeared on deck with an air of offended dignity,which made him ridiculous in his present attire.

  "What is yer crime?" was the gruff question of Neptune.

  Adolphus eyed the venerable figure of the ruler of the waves with alofty air of scorn, and did not, at first, deign to reply.

  "Yer crime?" bawled the king, seizing his scepter with a menacinggesture.

  "May hit please your hill-favored 'Ighness, has I hain't got hanythingof that kind habout my person, I hain't hable to produce hany."

  "You'r' accused of striving to usurp our throne," exclaimed old Neptune,wrathfully.

  "_W'ot!_" exclaimed the astonished cockney, with his breath almost takenaway by the novelty of the charge. "I--I husurp your throne! My dearhold fellow, I vouldn't 'ave it for ha gift."

  "Ha! do yer insult us? Executioners, do your duty!" roared the indignantmonarch.

  "Now, 'old hon, hexecutioners," argued the cockney, remonstrating, "letme warn you not to go han' do hanything so wery rash. Do you 'appen toknow 'oo I ham?"

  "Yes, you're the grandson of--the Lord Knows Who," said Father Nep.

  "Bless me, now, and 'ow did you know that my grandfather was a lord?That's wery astonishing, I declare. Wery well, you see I'm considerablydifferent from halmost all of you fellows, hinhasmuch has I was broughthup a gentleman, hand was born hin dear hold Hingland, the Hempress ofthe Hocean. Now, certainly, your Hexcellency won't be so unfortunatelyrash has to hoffend the Hempress of the Hocean by hany hunduehinterference with one of her favorite sons, while hin the pursuit of'is peaceful havocation."

  The Britisher argued this in his most solemn and impressive style, andlooked, when he was through, as if he thought the argument to beconclusive. But he roused a new enemy in an unexpected quarter. Scarcelyhad he finished his harangue, before Amphitrite (_n?e_ Bluefish) sprungfrom her throne, with a wild yell, and caught him by the hair.

  "Who dares to style any other than me the hempress of the briny deep?"she shrieked in his ear. "Ha! villain, thou art convicted out of thineown mouth. Usurper, thy time's come! Tritons, do your work!"

  "But I protest! I demand ha hinstantaneous release has a Hinglishman onthe 'igh seas! Captain, I happeal to you! This houtrage to Hinglishmenwill be hawfully havenged! I protest--I--"

  But he was now on the plank, undergoing the operation of shaving, andhis open mouth received the great brush of lather full between histeeth, almost choking him, and completely gagging him for some time tocome. Then the plank was whipped from under him, and down he went withan awful splash into the tub, protesting, amid the shouts of laughter,something about his being "a chosen son of hold Hingland."

  We tossed him in the sail with the jolliest vehemence, but, when theropes were being adjusted for the final part of the programme, that ofkeel-hauling, he begged off piteously.

  "Captain, I shall drown, I know I shall," he pleaded, turning with animploring gesture, to Captain Joker, who was enjoying the thingamazingly. "Captain, I 'ave a natural hantipathy to hanything but 'otwater. A bath hin my present state of perspiration will be the certaindeath of me, I know hit will. Now, please, captain, for the sake of hourhold and hardent friendship--for the sake--"

  But the captain was implacable, and the cockney, though strugglingviolently, was swung over the taffrail. He was truly in a melting mood.The day was hot enough, as you may judge by the latitude we were in, andthe course of sprouts through which we had been rushing our Englishvictim, had made the sweat come from every pore of his skin. Therevulsion, therefore, as his body hit the coolness of the rushing oceanstream, must have been very great. As it was, he gave an awful scream,and floundered like a stranded shark. Away he went, far out from thestern in the swift wake of the gliding ship. When we
drew him in andlanded him safe and sound, once more on deck, he was so overjoyed at hisrescue, that he pretended to have liked his bath.

  "Do you know, I henjoyed hit himmensely," he exclaimed.

  And when he was dressed, with a good, stiff glass of grog in his hold,he really was one of the merriest men on the ship.

  Well, that ended the ceremonies, but the holiday was not over by anymeans. We had an extraordinary dinner, and, after the sun had set andthe bright tropic moon had risen, Snollygoster brought out his violin,and we had a glorious dance. Grog was freely distributed, and I amafraid there were a good many heads that felt abnormally large nextmorning.