Breakfast was an excitement shared in peculiarly by the Ancient Mariner2 and Dag Daughtry, while the trio of partners raged and bewailed. Captain Doane particularly wailed3. Simon Nishikanta was fiendish in his descriptions of whatever miscreant4 had done the deed and of how he should be made to suffer for it, while Grimshaw clenched5 and repeatedly clenched his great hands as if throttling6 some throat.
“I remember, it was in forty-seven—nay, forty-six—yes, forty-six,” the Ancient Mariner chattered7. “It was a similar and worse predicament. It was in the longboat, sixteen of us. We ran on Glister Reef. So named it was after our pretty little craft discovered it one dark night and left her bones upon it. The reef is on the Admiralty charts. Captain Doane will verify me . . . ”
No one listened, save Dag Daughtry, serving hot cakes and admiring. But Simon Nishikanta, becoming suddenly aware that the old man was babbling8, bellowed9 out ferociously10:
“Oh, shut up! Close your jaw11! You make me tired with your everlasting12 ‘I remember.’”
The Ancient Mariner was guilelessly surprised, as if he had slipped somewhere in his narrative13.
“No, I assure you,” he continued. “It must have been some error of my poor old tongue. It was not the Wide Awake, but the brig Glister. Did I say Wide Awake? It was the Glister, a smart little brig, almost a toy brig in fact, copper-bottomed, lines like a dolphin, a sea-cutter and a wind-eater. Handled like a top. On my honour, gentlemen, it was lively work for both watches when she went about. I was super-cargo. We sailed out of New York, ostensibly for the north-west coast, with sealed orders—”
“In the name of God, peace, peace! You drive me mad with your drivel!” So Nishikanta cried out in nervous pain that was real and quivering. “Old man, have a heart. What do I care to know of your Glister and your sealed orders!”
“Ah, sealed orders,” the Ancient Mariner went on beamingly. “A magic phrase, sealed orders.” He rolled it off his tongue with unction. “Those were the days, gentlemen, when ships did sail with sealed orders. And as super-cargo, with my trifle invested in the adventure and my share in the gains, I commanded the captain. Not in him, but in me were reposed14 the sealed orders. I assure you I did not know myself what they were. Not until we were around old Cape15 Stiff, fifty to fifty, and in fifty in the Pacific, did I break the seal and learn we were bound for Van Dieman’s Land. They called it Van Dieman’s Land in those days . . . ”
It was a day of discoveries. Captain Doane caught the mate stealing the ship’s position from his desk with the duplicate key. There was a scene, but no more, for the Finn was too huge a man to invite personal encounter, and Captain Dome16 could only stigmatize17 his conduct to a running reiteration18 of “Yes, sir,” and “No, sir,” and “Sorry, sir.”
Perhaps the most important discovery, although he did not know it at the time, was that of Dag Daughtry. It was after the course had been changed and all sail set, and after the Ancient Mariner had privily19 informed him that Taiohae, in the Marquesas, was their objective, that Daughtry gaily20 proceeded to shave. But one trouble was on his mind. He was not quite sure, in such an out-of-the-way place as Taiohae, that good beer could be procured
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading
