Chapter 13

While all was busy on deck, Captain Gordon took my father and me below to his cabin. It was a neatly fitted-up room with many books and pictures and maritime instruments that interested me. What most attracted my attention was the captain's private collection of fishing tackle and his armoury. There were some fine landing nets and rods with bright brass rings and reels, and the artificial flies were quite confusing in their number and variety. In the armoury were several six shooters of different patterns, and many double-barrelled guns and ornamented rifles. Captain Gordon allowed me to handle some of these, and he explained their mechanism to me.

One little fowling piece that I examined was so light and so beautifully made that I returned to it again and again while the captain and my father were talking together. It had a long steel barrel with delicate engraving upon it, and a carved stock. I was admiring the spring of the trigger work when Captain Gordon asked me if I was a good shot.

"I have never fired a gun in my life," I said.

To my surprise he said, "You may have that gun in your hand if you'll accept it."

"O, but I canna think of taking it from you, captain!" I replied.

"No, no, he'll shoot himself," objected my father; "and that will not be so good as if he fell ower the cliffs. What will the lad want wi' a gun?"

"But I'd like to give it him, pilot. He'll soon learn how to use it properly.

"Won't you, Halcro?

"And as for shooting himself, why, remember the magic stone, pilot."

Father muttered something to the effect that it was very good of the captain; and I, who was overwhelmed with gratitude for his kindness, feebly added my thanks. So Captain Gordon gave me the fowling piece, together with a canister of gunpowder, and sufficient swan shot, I thought, to kill all the wild fowl in Orkney.

As I was leaving the ship, joyous in the possession of these ample materials for a whole summer of sport, and was bidding farewell to Captain Gordon, the mate came towards us at the rail and touched his hat.

"Well, Marshall, d'you want anything sent ashore?" asked the skipper.

"Yes, sir," said Marshall, "I want to tell you that the men are grumbling about this cat being brought aboard. You know how superstitious they are. They want the lad to take it away with him again."

"Their objections are silly and childish, Marshall," said Mr. Gordon. "They know that the ship is overrun with mice."

"Yes, yes, sir; that's all very well. But they won't have the cat aboard; and I think you'd better have the beast sent off."

"The men are a pack of fools. What harm can the poor cat do them, I'd like to know? They think it's unlucky, I suppose. Well, if they will have it so, send a couple of them down the hold to capture the animal. We must just bear the mice if the cat cannot remain. Look smart, now, the boy's in a hurry to get to his school."

Two men were then sent below to search for Baudrons, and I waited for their return. In about a quarter of an hour one of them came to say that the cat could not be found.

"Very well, then, I can't keep the lad here any longer. We must send the cat ashore with the pilot."

Then the captain turned to me.

"Goodbye, Halcro, my lad!" he said; "perhaps we'll be back in Orkney on our homeward voyage. Maybe you'll be a pilot yourself by that time, and bring us into port. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye, Captain Gordon!" I murmured; and at that I slipped over the taffrail and was soon sitting in my boat again, rowing back to the town.