If an astrologer or an Arabian enchanter could say to a man, "Beware of this or that, for it is a thing conceived of the Devil to work thy ruin," there would be reason for studying the stars or smiting¹ the sand. And this, indeed, they do, according to the old tales. But if a sailor seek out an astrologer to learn things that shall profit him, he is more likely to find a man grown foolish by much study, who will stroke his chin sagely² and say, "Come, let us look into this matter. Under Capricorn are all diseases in the knees and hams, leprosies, itch³ and scales and schirrous tumors, fallow grounds and barren fields, ox-houses and cow-houses, low dark places near the ground, and places where sails and materials for ships be laid." And while he talks of fixed⁴ angles and of the Lord of the Ascendant being in the fourth week, some small unsuspected thing may be the very egg on which the Devil is sitting like an old black hen to hatch forth⁵ a general calamity⁶.  
Thus certain incidents that shortly thereafter happened are to the point, for although they appeared of little moment at the time, they turned the tide of men's lives and made a stir that has to do with the current of my tale.
 
Now the men of the Rose of Devon sighted a sail at high noon when they were a week on their way south, and though she showed her heels and ran, and though the Rose of Devon lacked her mizzenmast, the strange vessel⁷ was but a small pink and so slow that they laid her aboard two hours before dark. In her crew she had only a dozen men, and sorely frightened they were, as they tossed in the lee of the dark frigate⁸. So to save themselves from a more cruel fate there was scarcely one of them but leaped at the chance to join the Rose of Devon's crew. They tumbled up their small cargo⁹ of salt fish for Bilbao and hoisted¹⁰ it on board the ship, together with their shallop, and casting their pink adrift, they forbore from complaining when their new master and his men stole whatever pleased them, from the new men's rings and knives to the very clothes on their backs. So, with her plunder¹¹ and her recruits, the Rose of Devon again squared her yards and continued on her course.
 
There was, to be sure, one fellow of mean spirit who whined¹² dolefully, upon conceiving his present extremity¹³ to be distasteful. But another got comfort by knocking him on the head when no one was looking; and finding him dead, the Old One hove him over-board and there was no further trouble from the fishermen.
 
Yet it was no secret that there was grumbling¹⁴ and complaining forward among the gentlemen of the Rose of Devon, so the Old One sent the boatswain to summon them aft when the watches were changing.
 
He leaned against the swivel gun on the quarter-deck, and looking down into their faces, smiled disagreeably. "It hath come to my ears," said he, "that one hath a sad tale to tell because we failed to take the Porcupine¹⁵, which, though a mere¹⁶ ketch, outnumbered us in guns and men. And another hath a sad tale to tell because this pink that late became our prize is small and of little worth, though we got from her eleven brave fellows who shall be worth a store of fine gold." He looked from one of his men to another, for they were all there,—Martin and the cook, and Philip Marsham and Will Canty, and Paul Craig and Joe Kirk, the one-eyed carpenter and the rest,—and his thin face settled into the many wrinkles that had got him his name. There was none of them, unless it might be Harry¹⁷ Malcolm or Old Jacob, who could say surely at one time or another what thoughts were uppermost in Tom Jordan's shrewd head.
 
"Come, now, my hearts of gold," he cried, "let us have an end of such folly¹⁸. Said I not that these northern fisheries were meat for crows? And that we must go south to find prey¹⁹ for eagles? We will choose a fine harbour by some green island where there's rich fruit for the picking and fat fish for the catching²⁰, and we will build there a town of our own. We will take toll²¹ from the King of Spain's ships; we will take us wives and women and gold and wine from the dons of the islands and the main. Yea, we will lay up a great store of riches and live in fullness of bread and abundance of idleness."
 
Some were pleased, but some doubted still, which the Old One perceiving, for he read their faces, cried, "Nay²², speak up, speak up! Let us have no fair-protesting friends with hollow and undermining hearts."
 
"Yea, it is a fair tale," cried one, in a surly voice, "but thus far we have blows to show for our pains—blows and a kettle of fish."
 
"And methinks," another growled²³, "we shall see more of salt fish and buccaned meat, than of fine wines and gold and handsome women."
 
"'Tis a swinish thought," the Old One retorted; but he smiled when he said it, so that they took no offense²⁴, for of such grumbling he had no fear. He was set to catch a bird of quite another feather.
 
Then old Jacob rose and they were silent to hear him. "Let us make an end of talk," said he slowly. "We are on our way south and to stop or turn aside would be nothing but foolishness." And with that, although they had expected him to say more, he turned away.
 
Then, of a sudden, "Come, Will," the Old One cried, singling out his man from all the rest, "what say you?"
 
If Will Canty's face changed at all, it was a whit²⁵ the paler as he met the Old One's eyes. "I say," he replied, "that since we have fish on board, we are sure of fish and would do well to eat fish ere we lose it."
 
"There is sooth in thy words," quoth the Old One, and he smiled in friendly wise. (But despite his smile, he liked the words little, as any shrewd man might have known by his eyes, and Will Canty was no fool.) "Come, cook, and boil us a great kettle of fish."
 
The rumble²⁶ of low voices changed to laughter and the cook boldly cried, "Yea, yea, master!"
 
"For our much voyaging and many pains," cried the men, as they went about their work, "we have got a kettle of fish." And they laughed mightily²⁷, for though it was the very thing that before had made them grumble²⁸, now they saw it as a droll²⁹ affair and made of it many jests, of which a few were good and more bad, after the manner of jests.
 
As for the cook, he called his mate and bade him break out a drum of fish and set a kettle to boil, and cuffed³⁰ him this way and that, till the poor fellow's ears were swollen³¹.
 
And the Old One said to Harry Malcolm, "Saw you not how deftly³² the fellow twisted out of the corner, and with a sly remark that no one can take amiss? Oh, he is a slippery dog and I am minded to cut his throat out of hand!"
 
"Now, that would be very foolish, for where there's one of them, there's always two, and the one will toll the other on until there are two dogs by the heels instead of one."
 
At that the Old One laughed harshly, and the two, who were after a left-handed fashion uncommonly³³ congenial, went off well pleased with their conceit³⁴.
 
Down in the hold the kettle boiled right merrily, and the cook swelled³⁵ with pride that he had a mate to carry and fetch. He cuffed the poor fellow this way, and he cuffed him that. He threw a pan at him when the fire smoked worse than common, and he thrust a fistful of flour into his face and down his neck when he let the fire lag. He flung him his length on the floor for spilling a pint³⁶ of water; and when in despair the lad fled for his life, the cook seized him by the hair and haled him back and put a long knife at his breast and swore to have his heart's blood. Oh, the cook was in a rare and merry mood, for he had drunk more sack than was good for him from the cask he had marked as his own; but as he had waxed exceeding gay and haughty³⁷, the sack had dulled his wits and he was drunker than he knew.
 
"Come, thou pig! Thou son of a swine!" he yelled. "Ladle out the fish and choose of the best for the cabin. Yea, choose in abundance and summon the master's boy and bid him haste. And do thou bestir thyself and carry to the men." And with that, he fetched the poor fellow a blow on his head, which knocked him off his feet.
 
The fellow ran to do the work and the cook, in vast satisfaction at having so well acquitted³⁸ himself, sat down with a goblet³⁹ of sack and tippled and nodded, and kept an ill-tempered eye on the master's boy and his own, as with shrewd fear of broken heads they scurried⁴⁰ back and forth.
 
"It is most wonderful excellent sack," quoth the cook, and with his sleeve he mopped his fiery⁴¹ bald head. "It was by a happy stroke I marked it for my own. Truly, I had rather be cook than master, for here I sit with mine eye upon the cabin stores, from which I can choose and eat at will, and the captain, nay, the Lord High Admiral of England, is himself none the wiser. Fish, sayest thou? Nay, fish is at best a poor man's food. I will have none of it." And thus he ran on foolishly, forgetting as he drank sack, that there was no one to hear him, not even his mate. "Truly, I am a wonderful excellent cook. I may in time become a captain. I may even become the governor of a plantation⁴² and take for a wife some handsome Spanish woman with a wonderful rich dowry. She must have an exceeding rich dowry if she will marry me, though. Yea, I am a wonderful excellent cook." And the more he drank the more foolish he became.
 
After a while, he cocked his head upon one side; and quoth he, "I hear them calling and shouting! It seemeth they are singing huzza for me. I hear them coming down to do me honour. Truly, I am a most wonderful excellent cook and the fish hath pleased them well. Foolish ones that they are to eat it!"
 
The silly fellow sat with his head on one side and smiled when they burst in upon him. "Hast come for more fish?" he cried. "Yonder stands the kettle. Nay, what's that? What's that thou sayest? Nay, fellow, th' art mad? Thou know'st not to whom thou speakest."
 
"Fool! Knave⁴³! Scoundrel! Swine!" they yelled. "Oh, such a beating as thy fat carcase will get. Hear you not the uproar⁴⁴? Think you to cozzen us?"
 
With that they seized him, two by the head and two by the feet, and dragged him to the ladder. They threw a rope about him and knotted it fast and tossed the ends to men at the hatch above, who hauled him, squealing⁴⁵ and kicking like an old hog⁴⁶, up on deck. To the cabin they dragged him, with all the men shrieking⁴⁷ curses at him and pelting⁴⁸ him with chunks⁵⁰ of fish, and in the cabin they stood him before the table where the Old One and Harry Malcolm sat, and very angry were they all.
 
"Dog of a cook," said the Old One, "for a relish⁵¹ to conclude our meal, we shall see thee eat of this fish that the boy hath brought us." And he thrust before the cook a great dish. "Eat it, every shred⁵², bones and all," said he, "or I'll have thee butchered and boiled in place of it."
 
"Why, now," said the cook, somewhat sobered by rough handling and a trifle perplexed⁵³, but for all that still well pleased with himself,............