CHAPTER XXVII

For five days the wind held from the westward, and we held a course a little east of north. I saw the chart every day, and sometimes pricked the position of the ship on it. I took an occasional observation, and worked out that position, checking up my observation and the position worked out from it by the captain’s. I really think that I knew more of the mathematics of the matter than he did. In another respect Captain Nelson had an immense advantage. That was in dead reckoning, which was very important where we had clear skies, either by day or by night, only about half the time or less.

The prickings on the chart pointed straight for Amsterdam Island, with St. Paul possibly rising above the horizon to leeward. Then we ran into head winds and a gale, which lasted for two days. That gale lost me completely. I tried dead reckoning, and I was so mortified about it that I did not mention it to anybody. I spent all my spare time, for the first day after we ran out of the bad weather, in trying to reconcile my reckoning with the captain’s.

It was nearly sunset when I gave it up finally, and went on deck, feeling rather low in my mind, for the observation on that day had shown the official reckoning to be only a few miles out. I stood at the rail, under the stern of the waist boat, and gazed out moodily over the water, cursing myself; for I had got into the way of the ship long before, and could curse fluently, although I was no expert at it, as Mr. Baker was.

I must have been muttering my curses aloud, for I heard a voice at my shoulder. It was Peter. {260}

“What ’s gone wrong, lad?” he asked, half laughing. “Cussing won’t mend it.”

I turned to him. “I don’t know about that, Peter,” I said. “It relieves my mind. I feel better already.”

He laughed. “Do you so? Well, mebbe. But, Timmie, I ’ll have something for you to-morrow.”

“Got your model done, Peter?” I asked eagerly. I had been but little in the forecastle for months. I did not want to have to speak to Smith, or even to see him.

“Mebbe I have,” he answered, smiling. “Mebbe I have. I could be tinkering at it longer, but I don’t believe ’t would better it. I ’ll give it to you to-morrow.”

“Can’t you give it to me now, Peter? You might as well. You won’t do anything more to it.”

“Well,” said Peter, almost coyly. “Well, I might get it now. But come up for’ard, or into the fo’c’s’le. I ought not to be standing here, gamming.”

I hesitated. I was reluctant to go into the forecastle. “I don’t like to, Peter. I—you see—Smith—”

“Aye,” said Peter soberly, “I know. Smith—well he ’ll get the lance the first thing he knows. He ’s worse and worse, as independent as a clerk; fair reckless. The old man gave him another dressing-down a few days ago, a stiff one. Did you know it?”

I nodded. I knew it, although I did not hear it.

“And he bragged of it,” Peter went on; “came back to us, and bragged of it, and laughed at the old man and the officers. Said he ’d been threatened, and he ’d show the old man yet. Mr. Snow ’s afraid of him, to speak plainly, and he ’s got the idea that the others are too, at heart. And he ’s got the men discontented and grumbling. It ’s my idea that he thinks they ’ll be ready soon for anything he proposes. I don’t know why the old man don’t do something about it. He must know.”

I checked the reply which was on my lips, for Smith was approaching at that moment. He always contrived to {261} pass when Peter and I were talking. He was suspicious, very likely, but did not show it. He gave us a smile and a pleasant word.

“Come on, then,” said Peter, turning to go forward, “and I ’ll get it.”

I followed, and waited by the foremast while Peter dived below. He emerged in a minute, holding the model in his hand.

“I hope you ’ll like it, lad,” he said, “and it may give you some pleasure to look at it now and again, and remind you of the years you spent in the old ship.”

“Oh, Peter!” I said. “Oh, Peter! Like it!” It was a fairy thing, with its ivory sails so thin that you could almost see through them, and the tiny boats complete down to the smallest thing in them, every oar, lance, harpoon, and keg in its proper place. There were even ivory knives on the cleats. And the model of the ship itself had every rope and block, and every ring-bolt in the deck; and the deck showed each plank, even to the worn places in the actual deck.

I had not seen the model for some time, and had not expected that it would be so faithful; but I should have known Peter better.

He was smiling with gratification. “It ’s not likely that it ’ll give you the pleasure it has me,” he said. “I ’ve been slow at it, but I ’ve been doing a thing or two along with it, and what ’s a little time? Take it along, Timmie. I ’ll make you a case for it, so ’s you can pack it in your chest.”

“Thank you, Peter,” I began. “I ’ll keep it always.” So I have kept it. The ivory is now much yellowed by time, but it is the same delicate, fairy-like thing, and as perfect as ever. I should have said more, and was smiling and hesitating, not knowing what to say, when the watch was sent aloft to shorten sail.

“What ’s that for, Peter?” I asked in surprise. We {262} were not cruising, and normally we should not have shortened sail.

“I don’t know, lad. It ’s breezing up a bit, and it ’s like enough the old man ’s afraid he ’ll overrun whatever he ’s aiming for. He did n’t say anything to me about it. You might ask him what he means by it.”

I laughed. Captain Nelson was on deck, standing just forward of the after house, where he had a clear view of all that went on aloft. In view of what happened, I think he had a definite purpose in being there.

When the men were sent aloft to handle sail it was the established custom for the boatsteerers to take the yardarms. The other men would lay out along the yard in accordance with their speed and activity, the fattest and the laziest getting the bunt of the sail; but however good a man might be, it was his duty to give way to the boatsteerers. The yardarms were the places of honor, as the duties there called for the greatest skill and quickness. Joe Miller was good, but he was neither as skilful nor as quick as Smith. Smith knew it, as we all