When Nathaniel D. Troop (of City, U.S.A.), presently A.B. on board the British ship , solemnly announced his intention of investing in a monkey the next time old Daddy the Bumboatman came alongside, there was a breathless , something like , amongst his shipmates. It was in Bombay and eventide, and all we of the foremast hands were quietly engaged upon our supper (tea is the name for the corresponding meal ashore), with great content resting upon us, for bananas, rooties, duck-eggs and similar bumboat-bought luxuries among us. So that the of indurated that had resisted all assaults upon it at dinner-time lay unmolested at the bottom of the beef-kid, no one feeling interested to a swear on it.
For some time after Nat’s pronouncement nobody . The cool breeze whispered under the fo’c’s’le , the Bramley-kites wheeled around whistling hungrily and casting their eyes upon our plates, and somewhere in the distance a dinghy-wallah intoned an interminable legend to his fellow-sufferers that sounded like the high-pitched drone of bees on a sultry afternoon among the[207] flowers. Then up and spake John de Baptiss: “Waffor, Nat? Wah we ben dween t’yo. Foh de Lawd sake, sah, ef gwain bring Macaque ’bord dis sheep you’se stockin trubble’ nough ter fill er long hole.” “’Sides,” argued Cockney Jem, “’taint ’sif we ain’t got a monkey. ’Few wornt any monkey tricks played on us wot price th’ kid ’ere,” and he to me.
“Naow jess yew hole on half a minnit,” drawled Nat, “’relse yew’ll lose your place. Djer ever know me ter make trubble sense I ben abord thishyer limejuice dog-basket? Naw, I’ve a learnt manners, I hev, ’n don’t never go stickin’ my gibbie in another man’s hash I don’t. But in kase this kermunity sh’d feel anyways hurt at my perposal, lemme ’splain. I s’pose I ain’t singler in bein’ ruther tired er these blame forrad here. Hogs is all right, ez hogs, but they don’t make parler pets wuth a cent. N’wen I finds one biggern a porpuss a wallerin’ round in my ’n rootin’ ’mong the clean straw my bed’s stuffed with, its kiender bore in erpon me that fresh pork fer dinner’s wut I ben pinin’ fer a long time. Naow I know thet I teach a monkey in about tew days ’nough ter make him scare the very chidlins er them hogs sossidge meat if they kum investigatin’ where he’s on dooty. ’N so I calkerlate to be a sorter bennyfactor ter my shipmates, though it seems ’sif yew ain’t overnabove grateful.”
By this time the faces of Nat’s audience had lost the look of they had worn at first. Everybody had an account to settle with those pigs,[208] which homelessly about the part of the deck, and never missed an opportunity of entering our domicile during our absence, doing such acts and deeds there as pigs are to perform. As they were a particular hobby of the skipper’s we were loth to deal with them after their , the more so as she was a particularly comfortable ship. And if Nat’s idea should turn out to be a good one we should all be gainers. Consequently when Daddy appeared in the morning Nat greeted him at once with the question, “Yew got monkey?” came the answer, “No, Sahib. Eberyting got. Monkey no got. Melican war make monkey bery dear.” However, as soon as Daddy was persuaded that a monkey really was desired he undertook to supply one, and sure enough next morning he brought one with him, a sinister-looking beast about as large as a fox-terrier. He was secured by a leathern collar and a dog-chain to the fife-rail of the foremast for the time, and one or two of the men amused themselves by teasing him until he was almost . Presently I came round where he was , forgetting for the time all about his presence. Seeing his opportunity, he sprang on to my shoulder and bit me so that I carry his marks now. Smarting with the pain I picked up a small piece of coal and flung it at him with all the strength I could . Unfortunately for me it hit him on the head and made it bleed, for which crime I got well rope’s-ended by Nat. And besides that I made an enemy of that[209] monkey for the rest of his time on board—many months—an enemy who never lost a chance of doing me an ill turn.
He took to his master at once, and was also on nodding terms with one or two of the other men, but with the majority he was at open war. Nat kept him chained up near his bunk, only taking him out for an airing at , and at once commenced to train him to go for the pigs. But one day Nat laid in a stock of eggs and fruit, stowing them as usual on the shelf in his bunk. We were very busy all the morning on deck, so that I believe hardly a chance was obtained by any one of getting below for a smoke. When dinner-time came Nat went straight to his bunk to greet his pet, but he was nowhere to be seen. The state of that bed though was something to remember. Jocko had been amusing himself by trying to make an omelette, and the débris of two dozen eggs was strewn and plastered over the bunk, intermingled with crushed bananas, torn up books, feathers out of Nat’s pillow, and several other things. While Nat was his memory for some language appropriate to the occasion, a yell arose from the other side of the forecastle where Paddy Finn, a Liverpool Irishman of parts, had just discovered his week’s of sugar and the contents of a slush-pot all the contents of his chest. Other voices soon joined in the chorus as further were discovered, until the fo’c’s’le was like broken loose.
[210]
“Pigs is it ye’d be afther complainin’ of, ye blatherin’ ould omadhaun. The divil a pig that iver lived ud be afther makin’ sich a hell’s delight ov a man’s dunnage as this. Not a blashted skirrick have oi left to cover me nakidness wid troo yure blood relashin. Only let me clap hands on him me jule, thet’s all, ye dhirty ould orgin-grinder you.”
High above all the riot rose the of Paddy Finn as above, until the grew so great that I fled dismayed, in mortal terror lest I should be brought into the quarrel somehow. It was well that I did so, for presently there was what sailors call a regular “plug-mush,” a free fight wherein the guiding principle is “wherever you see a head, hit it.” The battle was brief if fierce, and its results were so far good that uproarious laughter soon took the place of the that had so recently . Happily I had not brought the dinner in when the riot began, so that still there was some comfort left. Making haste I supplied the food, and soon they were all busy with it, their dinner hour being nearly gone. The punishment of the was unavoidably for want of time to look for him, for he had vanished like a dream. But while we ate a sudden storm of bad language rose on deck. Hurrying out to see what fresh had befallen we found the nigger cook flinging himself about in a of rage, while half-way up the main-stay, well out of everybody’s reach, sat Jocko with a that he had snatched[211] out of the while the cook’s back was turned, and was now carefully tearing into fragments. Rushing to the stay, the men shook it till the whole mainmast vibrated, but the motion didn’t appear to trouble the monkey. Holding the fowl tightly in one hand he bounded up into the main-top and thence to the mizen-topmast stay, where for the time he had to be left in peace.
As soon as knock-off time came a hunt was organised. It was a very exciting affair while it lasted, but not only were the men tired, but that monkey could spring across open spaces like a bird, and him was an impossible task. The attempt was soon given up, therefore, and the rest of the evening after supper to repairing damages. For the next three days she was a lively ship. That of darkness was like the devil, he was everywhere. Like a of grey lightning he would slide down a stay, snatch up something just laid down, and away aloft again bef............