Australian Tales - Setis

and had scarcely strength enough to steer the ship. There was a peculiar
wildness in his manner; and when the vessel plunged her bowsprit under
water, he seemed to lose nerve, and looked actually terrified.
Such an unusual exhibition in a “Jack Tar” aroused my curiosity to
know the cause of the infirmity which the poor fellow was suffering.
“Haul up that mainsail and furl it,” cried the captain, as he stepped out
of his cabin on deck and addressed the officer of the watch; then added,
while he joined me in my walk: “It's no use trying to force the ship
against this heavy head sea; we shall only tear and chafe everthing to
pieces. I think I'll close reef the topsails before dark, and make all snug
for a dirty night. There's mischief in those clouds to windward; and the
glass has fallen two-tenths since eight bells. It will blow blunderbusses
before midnight.”
“Well, captain,” I replied, “we have a good tight vessel under us, with
plenty of sea room, and above all, we know whose Almighty hand can
control the winds and waves, so we need not fear. But tell me, if you
please, sir, what is the matter with that poor man at the wheel? He looks
as fierce as a heathen Fijian; and that terrible knife in his belt makes me
almost shudder to look at him.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the little captain; “I'll warrant he won't eat you,
while he has got a full allowance of salt junk and yams; for you don't
look very tender! Why, that fellow is one of the best sailors on board the
ship. I'll match him for a day's work against the best man that ever
handled a fid, or a palm and needle. He's been ‘bousing up his jib,’ lately,
as sailors say, and now he's suffering from the tail end of the horrors, or
delirium tremens; that's what makes him look so shaky and scared, but
he'll be all right again in a week or two. He was drunk all the time we lay
in Sydney, that is to say, all the time he was out of the watch-house — so
it's no wonder he looks wild. I paid three grog scores for him just before
we sailed, and I think he left one score unpaid after all. I never came
across such a grog-thirsty ragamuffin before, in the whole course of my
cruising.”
“Poor fellow!” I exclaimed, “but did you never try to persuade him to
keep sober, and not run up grog scores, captain?”
“Pooh! what would be the use of doing that,” said the captain, with an
incredulous curl of his lips. “I might as well try to coax that Samoan pig,
under the long-boat there, not to eat cocoa nuts when he can get them! I
know too much about drunken sailors to waste my wind in talking to
them. That fellow will be sober enough, I dare say, until he gets back to
Sydney, for he can't get any liquor to get drunk with; but you watch him
as soon as the voyage is ended, and an hour or two after we are at our
moorings, and the sails are stowed, if he's not dead drunk come and tell
me, and I'll give him a certificate to that effect, or else none of his
acquaintance will believe it. Louis has been too long a lushington to be