LAST MAN UP.

Otago Witness, Issue 2649, 21 December 1904, Page 40 (Supplement)

LAST MAN UP.

By WILL LAWSON.

(Specially written for tU Daily Times and Witness Christmas Annual, 1904.)

Captain Bill Dorry was an ideal skipper in every sense of the word save one— and that was the sense of not knowing Low much beer was good for him. When this sense dominated him he was ripe for anything, as his mate and crew well Bones, the mate, was a • hazer"— a man who knew no pleasure in life save that of driving his crew ; and Captain Bill Dorry "s golden rule was "a good crew and no hazing." Therefore the crew loved Dorry, and loated on nu rood nature, and hated Bones. Their vessel, an auxiliary schooner, The Fairy, was advertised to leave Wellington on Saturday at sunset, and Bones who relished keeping his skipper in order even more than keeping his crew up to the mark, swore he would not let Dorry out of his sight all day. And he rolled his wicked little eye and promised sudden death to any member ot the crew who was absent or incapable at sailing time. Captain Dorry was a florid-faced man, with a beard and a contagious laugh. He greeted with indifference the mate s suggestion that they should go ashore together, though he had no intention of roaming round in company with such a sour prohibitionist." They proceeded u P -town until a barbers shop was abeam. "I'm going in here for a hair-cut,' the captain said. "Will you wait ?" "Yes," the mate answered. "I'll hold that parcel for you if you like." "No thanks, I won't be long." The mate waited outside. He strolled up the street and down the street. When twenty minutes had passed he approached the swing door with the intention of looking in to see how much more hair had to be removed. As he did so a tall, clean-shaved man, in a light tweed suit, stepped cut, almost colliding with him. "Beg pardon," said Bones, respectfully. The stranger grunted, and swung off up the street. After this rebuff the mate strolled up and down the street for a further quarter of an hour, till, in desperation, he stepped fcoldly into the saloon. It was empty of customers. "Where's the captain?" he asked. "Gone," the barber replied, his voice muffled by a cushioned chair and a cigarette. "Which way?" The barber moved one finger in the direction of the front door.

"You're a liar," Bones asserted

The barber nodded. "Probably," he agreed, "at times." "You smuggled him out by the back door," Bones shouted. "Why should I?" "He'll be drunk by this," Bones went on excitedly. The barber pulled out his watch. "Twenty minutes — vm — probably." Bones clattered angrily out of the saloon. When he had gone the barber grinned quietly and went on reading an article on "The Strenuous Life," while Bones went fuming back to the schooner and made hair fly all day.

The Fairy was "up" to sail at 6. At 5.30 Captain Dorry ■was not in sight. At 6 Bones sent a seaman to look for him, with orders not to come back without him. At 6.15 neither of them was in sight, and the only being visible was a tall, grey-suited, clean-shaven man, who strolled leisurely and

lather unsteadily down the wharf. No one took any notice ■of him, except to note that he was not the missing captain, -until he stepped on to the schooner's bulwark and prepared to jump on to her deck. "We're sailing right away,'' the mate informed him. * Keep ashore, please." "Shan't," the stranger replied. "Go to devil, Bones — devilled bones — he !ho !-— sh' my ship " The mate's eyes glittered for an instant. Then he recognised the man as the grey-suited stranger who had collided with him outside the barber's shop. He turned to the cook.

"Ever seen this individual before?" "Never !"

"Urn! — well, I s'pose he'll sober up. Run him mi- the saloon till we're under way. Seems as though "he's bound somewhere judging by the size of his parcel." Presently the scout returned and tremblingly informed the mate that no skipper was in sight. "All right,' Bones growled. "I'll take her out myself. It's damn near dark now, and we can't wait." To the one A.B. aboard he said . "You'll go 'mate' this trip." "Yes, sir." "And remember my lule when it's 'all hands on deck.' "Yes — last man out gets one on the sniffer with your knucklei-duster. Western ocean trick, ain't it?"' The mate scowled at such familiarity. "I'm skipper," he reminded the man as he handed him a bras 3 knuckle-duster.

"And ain't I mate?' — the mate said this after Bones had gone aft, just to see how it sounded. Off Pencarrow Bones stamped officially into the saloon The passenger was asleep in the captain's bunk. "Seems to know th& run of the cabin," the cook observed. "Um — here, what's your name?' Bones demanded, shaking the man. "Rats," the passenger replied. "Well, Mr Rats, the passage money to Picton is ten bob — pay or work. Where's >our money?" "Devilled Bones," the passenger gurgled. "Pay or work," the mate persisted.

No reply. The mate stepped on deck and called all the members of the crew save the man at the wheal. The man at the wheel followed respectfully and listened at the head of the companion. The Fairy was moving slowly under steam, and there was lots of sea room.

"Who's thisi?" Bones asked, turning the sleeping man's cherubic face to the crew. "Never seed him — Dunno, sir," chey chorussed. "Well he's got no cash, so he'll have to work. Bob !"

"Yes, sir."

Simultaneous with the seaman's answer there was a scramble at the companion caused by the steersman. He was balanced on his toes, and leaning forward and down, and the shouted command startled him. The mate glared in his direction for some seconds.

"Bring some togs, Bob," he said quietly. They attired the passenger in seafaring clothes, and bon him, swearing softly, down ihe fo'c's'le scuttle. A lamp swinging with the rolling vessel threw a fitful light, and the new seaman slumbered softly beneath its rays. Men came in, dropping off to sleep like tired dogs, and, waking suddenly when their watch on deck arrived, went out again. They studied their new comrade attentively, and talked about him during their watches, but no conclusion was arrived at until, about daylight, Jim, the newly-created mate, wearying of the grandeur aft, dropped into the fo'c's'le for a yarn After overhauling the sleeper he suddenly drew back in astonishment.

"Why," he gasped, "it's the skipper. Clean shaved and different togs." "Gam," from the sceptics. "It's him, anyhow. And that nasty beggar aft there is getting even with him for stopping him hazing us. 'Remember,' Bones says to me, 'Remember my rule when its "all hands on deck" ' — and you know his duster, I think." Here Captain Dorry, who had shown signs of returning life, yawned, and sat up. He stared at Jim till that individual

squirmed. "What's this?" Dorry asked. ''Fo'c's'le, sir." "Who put me here?" "Mate, sir. Said you was a passenger who d no cash, and had to work your passage. The captain nodded thoughtfully, and put his hand up unsteadily to stroke his beard. Finding no hair there he laughed softly, returning memory bringing back his spree ashore. "Didn't know me without my beard?" he suggested. "Not at first, sir," Jim replied, adding tentatively, "lou shaved, sir?" "Yes, so's he would not know me ashore. Couldn't get rid of the man." "Well, he knows you now, sir, and he told me particular about knocking down the last man up when it's 'all hands.' "

"He did, did he?' "Yes, sir." "Reckoning I'd be last man?" "Presoomably, sir. It'll be 'all hands aloft' in a tew minutes," Jim went on. "There's a slant of wind round Terawhiti, and we're turning off the power. Mere, sir, take this knuckleduster and get on deck and hide. I'll bring the mate in here on some excuse, and perhaps you'll be able todeal with him, sir."

Dorry, whose, wits, were returning rapidly, went on deck and crouched against the winch. He saw Bones swaggering about on the. poop, and laughed softly to himself. Presently Jim came out and went aft, where Bones gave an order which sent him hurriedly forward again. The Brothers' light was winking clearly on the starboard bow, and a nor '-east breeze kissed the moonlit water.

"All hands on deck," Jim roared

Immediately there was a hubbub below, and the sesmen. battled up like hot peas. But Jim knocked none downInstead, he peered into the scuttle till Bones cried irritably : "Well, what's wrong." "He won't come out, sir," Jim replied.

"Go and fetch him," Bones commanded

Jim went heavily down the steps 1 , and the skipper gripped his fingers tightly in the knuckle-duster. Bones, after waiting a few minutes, came forward and hailed Jim.

"Won't he come?"

Sounds of battle ascended, and presently Jim repli'.d in muffled tones : "He's got' — got me down, sir." Bones laughed. "I'll settle him," and went down. Directly the mate reached the floor Jim flew up the ladder.

"All hands on deck." he yelled. To the skippei he

added : "Now sir's your chance — or shall I do it?" "Here, take it, my nerves aren't strong, but don't kill

When Bones, suspecting a trick, mounted fugitiveJy to the deck he was met by a stunning blow under the jaw that sent him staggering. "Last man, sir," Jim observed. Dorry laughed, and threw the knuckle-duster overboard. "Remember, Mr Bones," he said, "I'm skipper here, and we'll have no hazing, if you please." And the Brothers, winking in the first glow of dawn, seemed +o see the joke too.

That trees blossom and even bear fruit during Christmasnight is ,a superstition popular in many parts of Europe, particularly among the peasant folk of the Latin countries and of Germany, Scandinavia, and the Balkans. Most wonderful stories are told of faraway lands, where these things happen, to the joy and edification of good Christians. But the people there are not content with repeating the old legends. While believing in miracles as such, they like them to happen in their very midst, and conditions not being favourable, do not hesitate to help them along, thus making the wish father of the deed.

On or about September 1 the people of Thuringia, for instance, secure some promising elder boughs and branches from cherry and linden trees to put up in tubs of water near the stove. The heat makes them thrive, and the little trees are usually in full bloom on Christmas Day, the family boasting of the biggest in the neighbourhood persuading itself that the dawning year will bring it an unusual amount of good luck.

In Silesia the branch of an apricot tree is used for the s»mp purpose, but the bough must be plucked on St. Andrew's name day, or better still in the night following, or it won't work. In Lower Austria, including Vienna, the auniversary of St. Barbara (December 4) is the proper day, when the good folk hie themselves to orchards or country to secure the luck-bringing boughs for Christmas night, cherry and pear branches being particularly sought after, and marked with the owner's name. All together they are put in a basin of water, and the latter i? placed on the top of a stove. Happy the person whose twig shows the biggest blossom on Christmas 'morn, for he or she will be lucky in ali their undertakings. The Christmas tree grows in twenty-three countries. Mistletoe is now artifu ially propagated with great success. Pies of carp-tongues were favourite old Christmas dishes..