Part 15

"Ol' Bill Hulk always 'lowed that if by God's chance they'd on'y come a fair fishin' season afore his shoulders give out he'd make a self-respectin' haul an' be through. 'Back give out about thirteen year ago,' says he, 'the time I got cotched by a dirty nor'easter on the Bull's Horn grounds. One o' them strings back there sort o' went an' snapped,' says he, 'jus' as I was pullin' in the Tickle, an' she isn't been o' much use t' me since. Been rowin' with my shoulders for a little bit past,' says he, 'an' doin' very fair in southerly weather; but I got a saucy warnin',' says he, 'that they won't stand nothin' from the nor'east. "No, sir," says they; "nothin' from the nor'east for we, Bill Hulk, an' don't you put us to it!" I'm jus' a bit afeared,' says he, 'that they might get out o' temper in a southerly tumble; an' if they done that, why, I'd jus' have t' stop, dear Lord!' says he, ''ithout bein' through! Isn't got no legs t' speak of,' says he, 'but I don't need none. I got my arms runnin' free,' says he,' an' I got one thumb an' all my fishin' fingers 'ceptin' two. Lungs,' says he, 'is so-so; they wheezes, Tumm, as you knows, an' they labors in a fog, an' aches all the time, but chances is they'll _last_, an' a fair man can't ask no more. As for liver, Tumm,' says he, 'they isn't a liver on these here coasts t' touch the liver I got. Why,' says he, 'I never knowed I had one till I was told!'

"'Liver,' says I, 'is a ticklish business.'

"''Lowin' a man didn't overeat,' says he, 'think he could spurt along for a spell on his liver?'

"'I does,' says I.

"'That's good,' says he; 'for I'm countin' a deal on she.'

"'Never you fear,' says I. '_She'll_ stand you.'

"'Think she will?' says he, jus' like a child. 'Maybe, then,' says he, 'with my own labor, Tumm, I'll buy my own grave at last!'

"But the season bore hard on the ol' man, an' when I balanced un up in the fall o' the year, the twelve thirty he'd been t' leeward o' the twenty-three twenty-five Tom Neverbudge wanted for the plot where the two little graves lay side by side had growed t' fifteen ninety-three.

"'Jus' where I was nine year ago,' says he, 'lackin' thirty-four cents.'

"'Never you fear,' says I

"'My God! Tumm,' says he, 'I got t' do better nex' season.'"

Tumm paused to gaze at the stars.

"Still there," I ventured.

"Winkin' away," he answered, "the wise little beggars!"

The _Good Samaritan_ dawdled onward.

"Well, now, sir," Tumm continued, "winter tumbled down on Gingerbread Cove, thick an' heavy, with nor'east gales an' mountains o' snow; but ol' Bill Hulk weathered it out on his own hook, an' by March o' that season, I'm told, had got so far along with his shoulder muscles that he went swilin' [sealing] with the Gingerbread men at the first offshore sign. 'Twas a big pack, four mile out on the floe, with rough ice, a drear gray day, an' the wind in a nasty temper. He done very well, I'm told, what with the legs he had, an' was hard at it when the wind changed to a westerly gale an' drove the ice t' sea. They wasn't no hope for Bill, with four mile o' ice atween him an' the shore, an' every chunk an' pan o' the floe in a mad hurry under the wind: _they_ knowed it an' _he_ knowed it. 'Lads,' says he, 'you jus' run along home or you'll miss your supper. As for me,' says he, 'why, I'll jus' keep on swilin'. Might as well make a haul,' says he, 'whatever comes of it.' The last they seed o' Bill, I'm told, he was still hard at it, gettin' his swiles on a likely pan; an' they all come safe t' land, every man o' them, 'ceptin' two young fellers, I'm told, which was lost in a jam off the Madman's Head. Wind blowed westerly all that night, I'm told, but fell jus' after dawn; an' then they nosed poor ol' Bill out o' the floe, where they found un buried t' the neck in his own dead swiles, for the warmth of the life they'd had, but hard put to it t' keep the spark alight in his own chilled breast.

"'Maybe I'm through,' says he, when they'd got un ashore; 'but I'll hang on so long as I'm able.'

"'Uncle Billy,' says they, 'you're good for twenty year yet.'

"'No tellin',' says he.

"'Oh, sure!' says they; 'you'll do it.'

"'Anyhow,' says he, 'now that you've fetched me t' _land_,' says he, 'I got t' hang on till the _Quick as Wink_ comes in.'

"'What for?' says they.

"'Nothin' much,' says he; 'but I jus' got to.'

"'You go t' bed,' says they, 'an' we'll stow them swile in the stage.'

"'I'll lie down an' warm up,' says he, 'an' rest for a spell. Jus' a little spurt,' says he, 'jus' a little spurt--o' rest.'

"'You've made a wonderful haul,' says they.

"'At last!' says he.

"'Rest easy,' says they, 'as t' that.'

"'Twas the women that put un t' bed.

"'Seems t' me,' says he, 'that the frost has bit my heart.'

"So ol' Bill Hulk was flat on his back when I made Gingerbread Cove with supplies in the first o' that season--anchored there in bed, sir, at last, with no mortal hope o' makin' the open sea again. Lord! how white an' withered an' cold he was! From what a far-off place in age an' pain an' weariness he looked back at me!

"'I been waitin', Tumm,' says he. 'Does you hear?'

"I bent close t' hear.

"'I'm in a hurry,' says he. 'Isn't got no chance t' pass the time o' day. Does you hear?'

"'Ay,' says I.

"'I got hopes,' says he. 'Tom Neverbudge haves come down t' twenty-two seventy-five. You'll find a old sock in the corner locker, Tumm,' says he, 'with my fortune in the toe. Pass un here. An' hurry, Tumm, hurry, for I isn't got much of a grip left! Now, Tumm,' says he, 'measure the swile oil in the stage an' balance me up for the las' time.'

"'How much you got in that sock?' says I.

"'Nothin' much,' says he. 'Jus' a little left over.'

"'But _how_ much?'

"'I'm not wantin' t' tell,' says he, 'lest you cheat me with kindness. I'd have you treat me as a man, come what will.'

"'So help me God! then, Bill Hulk,' says I, 'I'll strike that balance fair.'

"'Tumm!' he called.

"I turned in the door.

"'Oh, make haste!' says he.

"I measured the swile oil, neither givin' nor takin' a drop, an' I boarded the _Quick as Wink_, where I struck ol' Bill Hulk's las' balance, fair t' the penny, as atween a man an' a man. Ah! but 'twas hard, sir, t' add no copper t' the mean small total that faced me from the page: for the fortune in the toe o' Bill Hulk's ol' sock was light enough, God knows! when I passed un over.

"'Tumm,' says he, 'is it a honest balance?'

"'It is,' says I.

"'Wait a minute!' says he. 'Jus' a minute afore you tells me. I isn't quite ready.'

"I watched the sun drop into the sea while I waited.

"'Now,' says he, 'tell me quick!'

"'Nine eighty-three,' says I.

"'Add t' that,' says he, 'the twelve ninety-three in the sock. Quick, Tumm!' says he.

"I scribbled it out.

"'Wait!' says he. 'Just a minute, Tumm, till I gets a better grip.'

"I seed 'twas growin' quite gray in the west.

"'Now!' says he.

"'Uncle Billy,' roars I, 'tis twenty-two seventy-six!'

"'Send for Tom Neverbudge!' cries he: 'for I done it--thank God, I done it!'

"I fetched Tom Neverbudge with me own hands t' trade that grave for the fortune o' ol' Bill Hulk," Tumm proceeded, "an' I seed for meself, as atween a party o' the first part an' a party o' the second, that 'twas all aboveboard an' ship-shape, makin' what haste I was able, for Bill Hulk's anchor chain showed fearful signs o' givin' out.

"'Is it done?' says he.

"'All fast,' says I.

"'A plot an' a penny left over!' says he.

"'A plot an' a penny,' says I.

"'Tumm,' says he, with a little smile, 'I needs the plot, but _you_ take the penny. 'Tis sort o' surprisin',' says he, 'an' wonderful nice, too, t' be able t' make a bequest. I'd like t' do it, Tumm,' says he, 'jus' for the feel of it, if you don't mind the size.'

"I 'lowed I'd take it an' be glad.

"'Look you! Bill Hulk,' says Neverbudge, 'if them graves is goin' t' trouble you, I'll move un an' pay the cost o' labor. There, now!' says he; 'that's kind enough.'

"Bill Hulk got up on his elbow. '_What_'ll you do along o' my plot?' says he.

"'Move them graves,' says Neverbudge.

"'You leave my plot be, Tom Neverbudge!' says Bill. 'What you think I been wantin' t' lie in that plot for, anyhow?'

"Tom Neverbudge 'lowed he didn't know.

"'Why,' says ol' Bill Hulk, 'jus' t' lie alongside them poor lonely little kids!'

"I let un fall back on the pillow.

"'I'm through, Tumm,' says he, 'an' I 'low I'll quit.'

"Straightway he quit...."

* * * * *

Wind astern, moonlight and mist upon the sea, a serene and tender sky, with a multitude of stars benignantly peeping from its mystery: and the _Good Samaritan_ dawdled on, wing and wing to the breeze, bound across from Sinners' Tickle to Afterward Bight, there to deal for the first of the catch. Tumm looked up to the sky. He was smiling in a gentle, wistful way. A little psa'm from his Bible? Again I wondered concerning the lesson. "Wink away," said he, "you little beggars! Wink away--wink away! You been lookin' at this damned thing so long that no wonder you winks. Wink away! I'm glad you've the heart t' do it. I'm not troubled by fears when you winks down, you're so wonderful wiser'n we. Wink on, you knowin' little beggars!"

This, then, it seemed, was the lesson.

THE END