ON THE HIGH C

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1651, 21 October 1903, Page 5

ON THE HIGH C

(By Robert Aitken.) “Once on the high seas •” Mr Popp remarked luridly. ‘'As often as you like, on the High 0 or any other!” the third engineer shrilled defiuaiitiy. “Main-hatch!” “Engine-room!” The voices of Captain Kyloe and Mr MoPiiail, the chief engineer, each hailing his subordinate with vicious emphasis, put an end for the' moment to further misunderstanding. Mr Popp, the secoiyl mate, achieved his post at the hatchway by a single kangaroo-iike leap, and the third engineer disappeared so expeditiously through the manhole in the quarterdeck from which he had emerged that he had regained sufficient breath to be whistling a tune when the chief engineer’s angry countenance peered down at him through tthe open skylight. “Did you hear me call, my lad!” Mr MioPbaill inquired solicitously, feeling round the while for something hard to throw at the unsuspecting musician below. The third engineer, still whistling, looked up guilelessly. “Mr McPhail!” he cried in astonishment; “d’ye want anything, Mr McPhail 2” “Nothing whateveer,” Mr McPhail returned bitterly; “I never do want anything when I hail my engine-room —I do it for the sake o’ hearing my own voice an’ that looshus whistle o yours, ye peetifu, potcy-faced parrot. Did ye no hear me cry you?” and he cast a chunk of coal unsuccessfully into the depths below him. The engineer dodged the missile cunningly, and dropped! the heavy spanner he had in his hand. It fell with a crash on the foot-plates, and lie groaned in harrowing-wise. Mr McPhail, satisfied, withdrew ins head. “That’ll teach ye” he said severely, “to answer when ye re spoken to!” “But how am I to know,” his pupil demanded “that you want the engine-room when you shout Main-hatch ?” Mr McPhail looked round for another piece of coal, but finding none, retired, without granting the explantation requested, and ignoring the third engineer's pathetics rendering of that touching air. “Will ye no’ come back again?” Captain Kyloe, panting wrathfully, approached the second mate at the main-hatch. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twentysix, twenty-seven, twenty-eight,” Mr Popp counted methodically as the bags of grain slid past him down the smooth wooden shoot into the hold. “Eh!” he said, starting back aghast as the master of the Mary Hill gave vent to a violent roar close to his ear. “Dji you speak, sir?” Captain Kyloe eyed him wildly. “Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one,” saidf Mb Popp virtuously, and made e tick in the tally-book he held in hia left hand.

“Did you not hear me hail you ?* 9 the captain demanded virulently. “Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirtyfour, thirty-five,” the second mate replied. “I heard someone shout ‘En-gine-room P ” “Oh, you did, did you? Then just keep your ears wider open in future !'* Captain Kyloe commanded heatedly* “What’s the tally?” “Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twentyeight,” Mr Popp answered dutifully. “What’s your tally, checker?” captain shouted up to the skipper’® man on the quay. “One thousand, one hundred l , fifteen, safe f* the native clerk called back, and the shipmaster’s furiouos eye fell again upon the undismayed countenance ef the second 'mate. “Oh, him and me works on a different system,” Mr Popp explained airily; “but the result’s just th® same!” Captain Kyloe opened his mouth to speak, closed it again in despair# snatched the tally-book from his officer’s lian-d, and threw it down the hatchway. “Go and get the coir hawser laid aft!” he said thickly, and returned to the bridge. The Mary Hill, ss., of South Hartlepool, was receiving a stiffening of grain bags at the port of Bahia Negra, on the South American coast, previous to proceeding to Puerto Oro, on the Rio del Oro, to pick up a topdressing of genreal cargo on the berth, for Liverpool, and Captain Kyloe had visions, in his more hopeful moments, of a dock-load of live-stock on top of all, by means of which the freight manifest of ■ the tubby little steamer might increase and multiply. To this end he was “driving” his subordinates unmercifully in order to reach the cattle-wharves at Puerto Oro before the rush of more eligible steamers shouldl commence. It was yet early in the season, and he might, with luck, he thought, induce some eager shipper to entrust his stock to the Mary Hill for want of any more suitable craft. Wherefore the junior officers of til® Mary Hill, who cared nothing for the interests of *he shareholders in that vessel and a great deal for their own personal comfort, combined t-o accumulate as many obstacles in the way of such a project as might be conventientlv possible. Nor did Miss Keziah Kyloe, the captain’s only daughter, who was bearing her father company on the voyage, extend to him in his troubles that degree of respectful sympathy to which he felt that he was justly entitled. The youny lady, on the contrary, moulded her opinions and expressions upon the lofty. if occasionally impracticable, ideals of Mr Robert Bowler, ’ the redhaired second engineer, and waxed indignant over such a gross departure from the traditions of trading as practised on board the Mary Hill. “I call it beastly, pa,” she one day informed astonished progenitor, “to turn youi ship into a floating farmyard for tho sake of a few dirty pounds!” and Captain Kyloe was vo taken, aback by such unfiiial criticism that ho had unwittingly consented: t-o

liis daughter’s taking a run ashore with her red-haired admirer before he quite realised! what ho was doing. Mr Bowler, however, was not so ab-sent-minded, and had the fair Keziah up the gangway and out of earshot beforo her irate father recovered his wits sufficiently to countermand the excursion. Such high-handed procedure deeply incensed Mr Popp, who was also' an ardent admirer of Captains Kyloe’s daughter, and he lost no time in suggesting to the gratified third engineer, a paTb and sentimental looking youth, much given to blood-curdling renderings of unpopular airs upon an asthflute, an alliance, offensive and defensive, against the piratical Mr Bowler. Unfortunately, however, this combination came to a premature deadlock upon Mr Gudgeon’s confiding to Mr Popp, in a shrilling treble and under the strictest vows of secrecy, tho extraordinary (detail's of the consuming passion towards Miss Ivyloe that surged within his bosom: Mr Popp listened impassively until he could stand no more; then lie rose and insulted his new friend with science and method, until the voices of Captain Ivyloe and Mr McPhail interrupted the proceedings. It was unpleasant* work dragging the heavy hawser along tho 'hot deckplates in the sun and Mr Popp paused at intervals to breathe his men, dry his own dripping countenance, and think malevolently of the absent Mr Bowler sitting, arrayed in white linen, in the cool courtyard of the little hotel ashore, sipping isyrup and soda in companay with the fair Keziah. “Once again on the high sea,” he muttered dramatically to himself, “and ”

“Onco again on the High C,” repeated the voice of Mr Gudgeon from the quarter-deck. Mr Popp tried hard to look cool and unconcerned, but failed .dismally; the third engineer drew forth from the inner recesses of his upper garments a decrepit-looking flute, and, striking a shrill and ear-piercing note, proceeded to render his favourite air at the extreme pitch of the instrument,.

Will ye no come hack again, W-i-l-l-l yo n-o-o come b-a-aack aga-a-in?

slirieker the flute, and Mr Popp, seizing a belaying-pin, ran incontinentty at the third engineer. Miss Ivyloe and Mr Bowler returning from their little excursion would have met Captain Ivyloe and Mr McPhail, who were walking towards them, evidently bound hotel wards, had not Mr Bowler had the presence of ■mind to draw liis companion hurriojdly behind a convenient coal-truck, where she obediently crouched beside him till tho danger was past. ‘■'lt would be a' pity tc spoil their walk,” he explained thoughtfully, “especially if they are going to look for us.” Tho two well out of sight, they resumed their peaceful way, and soon caught sight of the Mary Hill’s squat hull against the sandbanks opposite the grain shoots; at the same moment a loud chorus broke upon their ears, and the unmistakable figure of Mr Jpopp was evident on the steamer’s fridge, whence he appeared to be conducting the invisible choir that was wailinty in excruciating-wise, keeping time to a flute: Will ye no come hack again? "W-i-l-l-l yo no-o come b-a-a-ack aga-a-in ? v Better lo’ed ye canna b-e-e-e I W-i-l-l-l ye n-o-o Tho music stopped dead; Mr Popp descended swiftly from the bridge; the second engineer, Miss Ivyloe ostentatiously on his arm, advanced in good order and reached the ship’s side. Tho gang-plank was not to be seen, and Mr Bowler reconnoitred the position frowningiy. ‘Mary Hill ali-o-o-y!” he shouted at last, and, at the words, a fresh roar of song rent tho air: from stem to stern of the steamer it rang out—in great volume from the foc’sle, strongly from the stokehold, fluidly from the engine-room, determinedly from the galley, and definaiitiy from the ofterhold, where the second mate, with a few of the strongest, voices, was apparently engaged after working hours in some engrossing task. Mr Bowler ran savagely up and down the quay above and urged Mr Popp to face him like a man, but his voice was drowned in the din; Miss Ivyloe flushed scarlet, whether with maiden modesty cr helpldSs anger it would.be rash to decide hastily, and egged her escort; on to “do something”; but not until the singers bad grown hoarse with their exertions did the performance ©ease, and then the engine-room messboy emerged suddenly from the galley in an agony of terror; twice he tried hard to dive back again, heedless of Mr Bowler's agonised petitions, bur each time he reappeared with, a velocity winch might have surprised a causal observer. At last he resigned himself to. nis role of sacrificial offering, and looked mildly up at the second engineer, who was nearly black in the face with suppressed feeling. The wretched bey pushed thp feloniously withdrawn gang-plank gingerly towards the quay, and before tho itching! £ users there had iv/dl a.rusned if.

fled presipitately back to the galley, where he implored the obdurate cook to give him shelter. But Mr Bowler had larger fish to fry, and felt that lie could not do him. justice at the moment; ho conveyed the incensed Miss Ivyloe to her cabin, bowed, and withdrew. Miss Ivyloe gazed upon his back scornfully, and sniffed audibly: “If T was a man,” slie said, but Mr Bowler, ignoring the hypothesis, went on his way silently. There was not a soul about the deck when he reappeared except the watchman, who feigned intense slumber in a distant corner; no one was seen in the afterhold, there was "no- one .in the stokehold, and the engine-room was a howling desert. Mr Bowler knocked at the door of the cabin occupied by Mr Gudgeon, the third engineer, but obtained no response save a deep and potent snore; he ventured aft, but the steward, safe in his proximity to the captain’s daughter, informed him curtly that Mr Popp was enjoying a warm bath after the hard work of the day, and had given orders that lie must on no. account he disturbed for four hours. M,v Bowler, half frantic, sped towards his own quarters and yelled loudly for the mess-room hoy, till the cook, armed with a cleaver, mad© hold to inform him that Mr Gudgeon had given the poor lad leave to spend the night ashore. The second engineer spent some time in trying to inflict grievous bodily injury upon Mr Popp by means of a boathook which he jabbed at intervals through the open port-hole of the hath cabin, while the watchman murmured unsolicited approval behind him, and urged him to lean a little further over the deck rail and take a longer stroke. Mr Popp lay in his bunk, on the other side of the ship, and read a book, laughing heartily at intervals. Captain Ivyloe and Mr McPhail came oil hoard about midnight, greatly overheated and very short in the temper; nor were they deeply gratified to. observe Mr Bowler seated on t'hej engine-room skylight contemplatively puffiing at a very short and sooty-looking clay pipe as they passed , along tiie deck. ! I Before the Mary Hill was ready to sail from Bahia Negra her indefatigable master had succeeded in letting her deck space for the homeward run from Puerto Oro for an odd lot of 120 bullocks and 700 sheep (destined for the Liverpool market; with the charterer’s final telegram in liig hand ho communicated the good news to his daughter, from whom it passed in its turn to the second engineer, who lost no time in spreading it abroad. Theft even in the woing of Miss I\ylo/6 there was a perceptible lull whil/o tho three rivals for her favour condoled amicably with each other over the undeserved misfortune that wa s i m minent.

“Eight and twenty days from port to port,” said Mr Bowler solemnly, “with maybe twelve hours for coaling at Las Palmas, and never a foot of deck to set your eyes on or a solitary breath of fresh air below.” “A hundred an’ twenty bleatin’ leva an’ seven hundred groanin’

sheep!” ooroborated Mr Gudgeon dismally. Mr Popp said nothing for a moment; he looked straight before him, as one who sees a horrid vision. “Poke me in the eye,” he requested dreamily at; last of no one in particular; “i believe I’m asleep and dreaming !” Both of his companions in misery compiled with his request with such alacrity that he was nearly blinded, and in the fracas that ensued upon this too literal interpretation of his wishes the seeds of friendship withered and died. He withdrew from tho society of the two engineers in anger and went aft, only pausing by the way to snatch Mr Gudgeon’s cherished (flute from its owner’s bunk. When the Mary Hill sailed he threw the instrument ashore as a parting gift to the only lounger visible. “Bono, Johnny; mucho bono!” he explained fluently, and imitated the- action of one who plays upon a wind instrument. The loafer picked the worn pipe out of the dust, examined its base metal keys untliankfully, and oast it back towards the steamer; it fell short, and sank out of sight in the swirling, muddy water. That Mr Gudgeon should accuse the second engineer of the theft of a valuable silver-mounted flute seemed to the delighted Mr Popp a solacing example of poetic justice; in the fullness of his sympathy with two old broom-shanks, on each of which Mr Gudgeon thoughtfully weilded the iron work necessary to produce a very accurate imitation of a stable-fork, or “graip,” whereafter he and his ally were never to be seen about the deck without such an emblem of agricultural industry in one hand. Captain Ivyloe observed this byplay grimly, and said nothing. Mr Popp further made a Ixahit of standing his watch gaybed. to tho intense admiration of the crew, in a I rakish-looking covert coat with, large | pearl buttons, a pair of antediluvian i riding-breeches, and moth-eaten shooting gaiter®, as indicative of a consuming passion for rural pursuits. He also desired of all and sundry information as to the price of mangels, i and rep nested the steward to keep a sharp lookout for any likely looking dairymaids. The cook h© ordered to scalded out his milk pails, and he made solicitous inquiry of the mate, a married man with a minus appreciation of such subtle humour, as to the feasibility of bringing up calves on the bottle.

ISIor was Mr Gudgeon 'behindhand: in his own department; he spent long hours at a bench he had rigged up in tlio afterhold over an ingenicius piece of brass-work intended to replace his lost instrument of music, - and occupied his scanty leisure in training the stokers and brimmers to* low in unison like cows or bleat he&rtrenderingly like sheep, at a given signal. So that the Mary Hill became;, in anticipation, a pandemonium of uncouth noises, and Captain Kyloe’s afternoon sleep was broken by the dreadful sounds that arose whenever he closed his eyes. Finally Mr Gudgeon, entrusted with the repairing of th© steam whistle,

which had broken down, attached thereto tho mechanical contrivance he had evolved from a length of brass piping, and favoured tho ship’s company one very dark night with a more or. less accurate rendering of that beautiful balled “When the kye comes hame,” through the medium of an eighty-pound head of steam. All hands rushed on deck in wild alarm as the deafening notes screamed hotly from before the funnel, and the crew of a passing barque lay flat on their faces and prayed vigorously till the Mary Hill was swallowed up in the distance. Captain Kylce, in sketchy pyjamas, flew to the whistle-coi;d, hut the harder ho pulled the louder rose the discord over liis head, and at last he desisted in despair. In the end the mechanism ran down, and a great silence, broken only by the throbbing of tho screw, fell upon the music-ridden steamer. My McPhail rose out of the darkness with an ear in his right hand, and the third engineer, attached to the ear, followed him painfully. “Tho whelp!” was all the chief engineer could find to say as he halted tho author of the serenade suddenly before the master of the Mary Hill upon the bridge. “What does it mean?” Captain Kyloe asked limply, heedless of the dimly outlined faces, peering up at him from the waist of the ship, the gaping countenances of the contingent from saloon and engine-room behind him on the quarter-deck. “it is mutiny on the high sea !” Men held their breath at the word! Mr McPhail, gouging his knuckles into his subordinate’s spine till the luckless musician squirmed, commanded 1 “Speak up!” '

The third engineer spoke up accordingly. “No,” he said, in an agonise)! treble; “it’s not. It’s ‘When the cows come home’ on the High C.” Tho chief engineer cleared him off the bridge with a single sweep of the arm, and he fell in a heap on top of Mr Bowler and Mr Popp. “Tho lad’s daft!” said Mr McPhail in tsu grievous voice to Captain Yyloe. “Is he?” said Captain Kyle© drily, “Good-night 1”