by Charles King
speedilymounted the table. The fiddles had been put on, and to these she heldfast; and she told Reginald all this next morning, adding, "And, oh,doc, it was so nice--dust (just) like a swinging-rope!"
But she had had a companion; for, after swimming several times round thetable, as if in search of dry land, the beautiful dog clambered up onthe table beside Matty. To be sure, he shook himself, but Matty shuther eyes, and wiped her face, and on the whole was very glad of hiscompany.
How solemn was that prayer of Mr Hall for the dead. Granted that hewas what is so foolishly called "a Dissenter" in England, his heart wasin the right place, and he prayed right from that Even his slight nasaltwang in no way detracted from the solemnity of that prayer. Ilda Hallhad her handkerchief to her face, but poor little cabin-boy RalphWilliams wept audibly. For the drowned sailor had ever been kind tohim.
The captain was certainly a gentleman, and an excellent sailor, but hehad sea ways with him, and now he ordered the main-brace to be spliced;so all the Jacks on board soon forgot their grief.
"His body has gone to Davy Jones," said one, "but his soul has gonealoft."
"Amen," said others.
They stayed at Orotava long enough to see the sights, and Reginaldhimself and a sailor got high up the peak. He was on board in time fordinner, but confessed to being tired. He had not forgotten to bring asplendid basket of fruit with him, however, nor wildflowers rich andrare.
A long lonely voyage was now before them--south-west and away to Rio deJaneiro--so ere long everyone on board had settled quietly down to a sealife.
I must mention here that it was the first mate that had chosen the crew.He had done so somewhat hastily, I fear, and when I say that there weretwo or three Spaniards among them, and more than one Finn, need I addthat the devil was there also?
One Finn in particular I must mention. He was tall to awkwardness.Somewhat ungainly all over, but his countenance was altogetherforbidding. He had an ugly beard, that grew only on his throat, butcurled up over his chin--certainly not adding to his beauty.
Christian Norman was his name; his temper was vile, and more than oncehad he floored poor boy Williams, and even cut his head. He smoked asoften as he had the chance, and would have drunk himself toinsensibility if supplied with vile alcohol.
"I don't like him," said the captain one evening at dinner.
"Nor I," said Reginald.
"I say, cap," said Mr Hall, "I'd maroon a fellow like that! If youdon't, mark my words, he will give us trouble yet."
And he did, as the sequel will show.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE BREAKDOWN--SAVAGES!
Captain Dickson was just as kind to Norman, the Finn, as he was toanyone else. Perhaps more so. Not that he dreaded him. Dickson wouldhave shot him with as little compunction as shooting a panther had hegiven him even a mutinous answer. But he often let him have doubleallowance of rum. "You're a big man," he would say; "you need a littlemore than the little ones."
Norman would smile grimly, but swallow it. He would even buy the men's,for he seemed to have plenty of money. When half-seas-over Norman wouldswagger and rant and sing, and with little provocation he would havefought. The other Finns and the Spaniard, besides an Englishman or two,always took Norman's side in an argument.
So things went on until Rio was reached. What a splendid harbour--shipsof all nations here; what a romantic city as seen from the sea, and thesurroundings how romantic, rivalling even Edinburgh itself in beauty!
It was early summer here, too. They had left autumn and the comingwinter far away in the dreary north. I shall make no attempt todescribe the floral grandeur of the country here. I have done sobefore. But not only Reginald, but all the Halls, and Matty as well,were able to walk round and admire the tropical vegetation and thegorgeous flowers in the gardens; and in the town itself the fish-marketand fruit-market were duly wondered at, for everything was new andstrange to the visitors.
Further out into the country they drove all among the peaked andmarvellous mountains and the foliaged glens, and Matty, who sat onReginald's knee, clapped her hands with delight to see the wee, weehumming-birds buzzing from flower to flower "like chips of rainbows," asIlda phrased it, and the great butterflies as big as fans that floatedin seeming idleness here, there, and everywhere.
A whole week was spent here, and every day afforded fresh enjoyments.But they must sail away at last. The captain had half-thought ofleaving the Finn Norman here, but the man seemed to have turned over anew leaf, so he relented.
South now, with still a little west in it. The good ship encounteredmore bad weather. Yet so taut and true was she, and so strong withal,that with the exception of the waves that dashed inboards--some of themgreat green seas that rolled aft like breakers on a stormy beach--shenever leaked a pint.
Captain Dickson and his mate paid good attention to the glass, and neverfailed to shorten sail and even batten down in time, and before theapproach of danger.
But all went well and the ship kept healthy. Indeed, hardly was there asick man among the crew. Little Matty was the life and soul of theyacht. Surely never on board ship before was there such a merry littlechild! Had anyone been in the saloon as early as four, or even three,bells in the morning watch, they might have heard her lightsome laughproceeding from her maid's cabin; for Matty was usually awake longbefore the break of day, and it is to be presumed that Maggie, the maid,got little sleep or rest after that.
Reginald used to be on deck at seven bells, and it was not long beforehe was joined by Matty. Prettily dressed the wee thing was, in white,with ribbons of blue or crimson, her bonnie hair trailing over her backjust as wild and free as she herself was.
Then up would come Oscar, the great Newfoundland. Hitherto it mighthave been all babyish love-making between Reginald and Matty.
"I loves 'oo," she told him one morning, "and when I'se old eno' I'sedoin' (going) to mally 'oo."
Reginald kissed her and set her down on the deck.
But the advent of the grand dog altered matters considerably. He cameon deck with a dash and a spring, laughing, apparently, all down bothsides.
"You can't catch me," he would say, or appear to say, to Matty.
"I tan tatch 'oo, twick!" she would cry, and off went the dog forward atthe gallop, Matty, screaming with laughter, taking up the running,though far in the rear.
Smaller dogs on board ship are content to carry and toss and play with awooden marlin-spike. Oscar despised so puny an object. He would nothave felt it in his huge mouth. But he helped himself to a capstan bar,and that is of great length and very heavy. Nevertheless, he would notdrop it, and there was honest pride in his beaming eye as he swung offwith it. He had to hold his head high to balance it. But round andround the decks he flew, and if a sailor happened to cross his hawse thebar went whack! across his shins or knees, and he was left rubbing andlamenting.
Matty tried to take all sorts of cross-cuts between the masts or boatsthat lay upside down on the deck, but all in vain. But Oscar would tireat last, and let the child catch him.
"Now I'se tatched 'oo fairly!" she would cry, seizing him by the shaggymane.
Oscar was very serious now, and licked the child's cheek and ear in themost affectionate manner, well knowing she was but a baby.
"Woa, horsie, woa!" It was all she could do to scramble up and on toOscar's broad back. Stride-legs she rode, but sometimes, by way ofpractical joke, after she had mounted the dog would suddenly sit down,and away slid Matty, falling on her back, laughing and sprawling, alllegs and arms, white teeth, and merry, twinkling eyes of blue.
"Mind," she would tell Oscar, after getting up from deck and preparingto remount, "if 'oo sits down adain, 'oo shall be whipped and put intothe black hole till the bow-mannie (an evil spirit) tomes and takes 'ooaway!"
Oscar would now ride solemnly aft, 'bout ship and forward as far as thefo'c's'le, and so round and round the deck a dozen times at least.
When dog and child were
tired of playing together, the dog went insearch of breakfast down below, to the cook's galley. There was alwaysthe stockpot, and as every man-jack loved the faithful fellow he didn'tcome badly off.
But even Norman the Finn was a favourite of Matty's, and he loved thechild. She would run to him of a morning, when his tall form appearedemerging from the fore-hatch. He used to set her on the capstan, fromwhich she could easily mount astride on his shoulders, grasping his hairto steady herself.
How she laughed and crowed, to be sure, as he went capering round thedeck, sometimes pretending to rear and jib, like a very wicked horseindeed, sometimes actually bucking, which only made Matty laugh themore.
Ring, ding, ding!--the breakfast bell; and the child was landed on thecapstan once more and taken down--now by her devoted
