Mate of the Jessica. A story of the South Pacific

Front matter

At all the Libraries. THE WAR IN ZULULAND. ULA : A Tale of the Zulus. By C. H. EDEN, F.R.G.S. One Vol., price 10s. 6d. MARCUS WARD & CO., London, Belfast aud Philadelphia. i % jgtorg rd{ % |outij yntifo BY F. FKANKFOBT MOOKE, AtTHOB OF " WHEBE THE BAIL BUNS NOW," " TOLD BY THB 6EA," " SOJOUBNBBS TOGETHEB," " FLYING FROM A SHADOW," ETC. IN TAVO VOLUMES. Vol. I. LONDON: MARCUS WARD & CO., 67 & 68, Chandos St., W.C. Belfast and Philadelphia. [All Sights Reserved.'] 1879. % Storp of th* South flatifo.

Chapter I

It was a day in the early part of Decem ber, and the sun was burning overhead out of a cloudless sky, tbat would have been found to be blue, if anyone had been bold enough to look up to what was such an intolerable glare of brilliancj'. It was a day in tbe early part of December, and the dust was lying idle upon the streets, for it was too warm for even the dust to bestir itself. The deep awnings were hanging in VOL. I. B front of the shops, but in spite of the pro tection they afforded, the confectioners were beginning to be anxious on account of their acid drops, which were giving evidence of a tendency to melt into inseparable companion ship ; and as for the jujubes and gelatine lozenges, the sellers of these luxuries saw in a moment that the period when they would have to be disposed of by the pint, instead of by the pound, was merely a matter of hours.

It was a day when everything seemed becoming liquid. It was pretty freely circulated that a rather stout gentleman, who had been noticed walking up a hill in the early part of the day, had been seen coming down about noon in the form of a gentle rivulet ; but this news was not generally believed, and everyone seemed much too languid to make any attempt to discover the origin of the rumour, which to the thoughtful did not seem so utterly extravagant as to be un- Avorthy of the least credence. All this had taken place, as has already been said, on a day in the early part of December, and yet no one seemed to be surprised ; every one seemed to regard the heat as quite seasonable. It is rather an overturning of all our ideas of December Aveather to hear of this, and most people will ask by what magic the heat of June was transferred to Decem ber.

It certainly could only have been brought about by magic, the ancients would have thought — the ancients whose world was a northern one — who had never known of the existence of those strange great islands of the southern oceans where the course of the northern seasons is reversed, Midsummer's Day being the tAventy-first of December. It is not difficult for us to understand how all this takes place without the aid of any magic but the magic of distance ; and so, when it is told that it was the people of Melbourne the hot December day just de scribed was making so uncomfortable, no one Avill fancy that the writer has been reading the " Arabian Nights " too carefully. It was, indeed, upon the streets of Mel bourne, that chief of Australian cities, that the grey dust was lying ; and it was over the shop-fronts of Melbourne that the can vas blinds Avere hanging in a vain attempt to preserve the goods in the windows from the scorching sunshine.

The appearance of the streets in this place would not strike a stranger as being very different from that of a town in England ; and anyone who should come here in the expectation of finding everything as different as the clim ate in the corresponding months of the year would be very much disappointed. The streets are, to be sure, a good deal wider than most of those in our old-fashioned northern towns, for when Melbourne Avas built there was plenty of room to spare, though it is not so now. There is nothing very remarkable about the shops ; and ex cept that most of the people are sensible enough to go about on the hot days in purely white linen coats and trousers, there is really nothing to be seen that would seem queer to a stranger. But upon this hot day when our story opens something occurred that Avould have seemed very queer indeed to anyone not accustomed to the colony.

At the top of one of the broad streets there was heard the sound of a horn ; the instrument has been called a barbarous horn, and certainly anyone who had heard this particular horn played as it was would have understood the justice of its being so termed. There was a barbarous horn, a still more barbarous drum, and a pair of cymbals tbat combined in themselves all the barbarity of the horn and drum. Now, though each of these instruments is useful in its own Avay in a full orchestra, and is capable of contributing, when subject to certain re strictions, to a harmonious and satisfactory result; yet it can be understood, without much argument it is to be hoped, that a band composed only of the three would not be musically effective, even though its strains might possibly be thought to suggest a few expressive bits of Wagner.

It was evident, too, that the music was not stationary ; it seemed to be coming closer, and in a feAV minutes its origin Avas seen. The dust of the street was stirred from its repose, and sent upwards in im mense clouds, as there drove up a large colonial spring waggon like a brake, Avith " JESSICA." 7 six horses decorated with ribbons of various colours. The occupants of the vehicle were seven in number, all men, and it certainly would have struck a passer-by that there was a good deal that seemed remarkable about those men. Tbey were dressed in the most curious fashion imagin able, but they were evidently very inde pendent in their tastes, for no tAvo were decorated alike. One had on a light coat of the broadest check possible — a game of chess could have easily been played upon his sleeve.

Another had as much shirt-front displayed as would have made a flying jib for a ten ton yacht ; a third did not believe in such a show, but had an evident affection for scarlet as a colour, for he wore beneath a bright yellow Avaistcoat an immense scarf of the most powerful red ; a fourth had a white suit, surmounted by a gigantic chimney-pot black hat, to make a startling contrast, which it certainly did. The others were equally remarkable as to their attire, and not one was commonplace enough to pass unnoticed in any crowd of civilized people. The only article the seven had in common was gloves, each wearing an immense pair of primrose kids. Three of the men were engaged at the instruments of torture, two were waving flags, two were driving, and all were shouting. The flag wavers were the only pair who were working harmoniously, the bandsmen were certainly not ; and, owing to the want of agreement on the part of the drivers, the leading horses were now and again brought round with their faces looking into the faces of those behind them.

Surely a more remarkable equi page was never seen either in the northern or southern hemisphere. In one matter, however, the most sin- " JESSICA." 9 gular union existed among the seven heroes of the waggon — they had made up their minds to stop at the first drinking saloon in the street ; and so soon as it was caught sight of, the bandsmen ceased their labour, the flagmen did so as well, and all united to pull the rein next the side of the saloon. The result was, that the horses were made to perform a circuit on the pavement, and the machine Avas at the point of overturning. A dozen willing hands were, however, brought to bear upon the mystified animals ■ — for there are always loafers enough in a Melbourne street to assist the drivers of any vehicle that stops at a drinking saloon — and, throwing a handful of silver amongst the crowd, the curiously-dressed gentlemen leaped from the waggon at various parts of its sides, more than one of the glazed kid boots that they wore bursting with the action, and nearly all the primrose gloves being ripped open.

With a choice and novel selection of oaths, the seven "went into the saloon, and the people pass ing by laughed and shook their heads. But among those who watched the strange proceeding was a .young man dressed in a style very different to those he had seen upon the waggon. He had on a sailor's shabby jacket and cap, and canvas shoes. He was a tall, well-built young fellow, and his face was as bronzed us those inside the saloon. He seemed somewhat mystified by what Ik had seen, so he asked another man who stood near if a circus troupe had arrived in the city. The other laughed 11 A circus troupe ? No ; I should rather think not. Guess you're a stranger here, young un, or you'd lia' known before now what such like fools as these >? are. " Yes, I'm a stranger — just ashore for the first time yesterday," said the young man.

" Wasn't far wrong, was I ? Well, when you go home again, and anybody asks you if you've ever seen a gang of gold-miners out on a spree, you say you did." " Gold-miners ? Then those are gold miners ? " " You just call them gold-miners ; and Avhen you do so to anybody that knows this place, you needn't be at the trouble of calling them blackguards, ruffians, and bullies. Ay, when they've had a run of luck they come down to the city to get rid of the responsibility of keeping a few pounds' weight of dust apiece, and those that go back alive — but it's dry work talking on a day like this. Come round, and I'll buy you a drink, as they say at 'Frisco." " I've no money to return the compli ment," said the young man, shaking his head. " Thank you for your information, however." And he nodded and walked on, leaving the other to growl out some thing about learning better manners in the colony.

" It hardly seems the place one would go to in order to write a book on etiquette," said the young man to him self, as he went on ; and then, after a few minutes, he muttered — "Everything seems against me. I had set my mind upon the gold-fields ; but now that idea is overturned in a moment. I have not fallen so low as that yet." He walked slowly on in the shade, and in a short time he was passed again by the waggon and its occupants, who were infinitely louder than before. They had not, hoAvever, proceeded further than the end of the long street, when again the same process of pulling up at a saloon was noticed, and the same easy dismount ing took place. There was, beyond doubt, a conscientious objection existing in the minds of the drivers to pass any place of this nature. By the time the young man, Avho was a stranger to the colony, had reached where the waggon was standing, the miners were coming out again, and it could be seen, without much difficulty, that their spirits were by no means dimin ished by this last visit.

They were in clined to be on friendly terms with the crowd that had gathered around the door, and as, of course, all the respectable people had crossed the street, the crowd was composed only of men who were but too happy to allow themselves to be sworn at, if there Avas any prospect of getting a drink. With some trouble four of the men man aged to mount the waggon ; but the other three did not seem disposed to hasten away. One of them was encouraged by the mob to sing, and he cheerfully complied, amid much applause ; another returned to the bar, and the third was too tipsy to mount the waggon ; so he contented himself with swearing at bis companions, at the crowd, and at the world generally. This, of course, was a cheerful occupation ; but in a few minutes it became monotonous, as no one paid any attention to him ; so he cast his eyes vacantly about him, while the crowd cheered the vocalist.

Now, exactly opposite the waggon there was a large haberdasher's store, and at the entrance stood motionless a splendidly dressed figure of a lady. The face was evidently looking across the street, nor did it turn aside for an instant. The tipsy man gazed across, and the reality of the situation seemed to flash over him. That spendidly dressed lady was transfixed with the attractiveness of his presence; his broadchecked coat, silk hat, and primrose kid gloves had won her affections. With a shout of triumph he rushed across the street and clasped the figure in his arms, amid the roars of laughter of all who saw the action, for the figure was one of those artificial bodies for the display of the newest fashions at the haberdashers' doors. The man was too drunk to understand anything but that he had somehow made a fool of himself, and that he was beino laughed at.

He let go the figure and staggered back to the street, demanding, with an oath, what there was to laugh at. Receiving no satisfactory reply, he turned again to Avhere he had left his fair one; but at the same instant he caught sight of a young lady who had just left the shop, and was walking hastily away. Thinking that this was the same who had not shrunk from his embraces a minute before, he cried to her to come back, at the same time rushing blindly to catch her again. In terror the young lady shrieked out. But the tipsy fool laughed wildly, and had just caught her arm when the collar of that grand checked coat of his was grasped from behind by no weak arm, and he was sent sprawling in the dust at the side of the footway. Half sobered by the shock he sprang to his feet, and seeing his assailant, who was the young man in the sailor's jacket, standing flushed and with clenched fists and teeth a few yards off, with a yell of rage he drew a long new knife from his belt and made a blind rush at the young man, avIio, however, did not appear inclined to be martyred on the spot, for he retreated a few steps, and with a skilful movement contrived to put the well-dressed stock figure in his place.

In an instant the sharp knife was plunged up to the hilt in the breast of the sham lady, and man and figure went down together in a heap, while the pavement was covered with bran and the spectators were convulsed — all except the haberdasher, who declared he would have satisfaction for the outrage that had been committed upon the innocent member of his family of stock figures. But before the miner had recovered him self a couple of policemen had whispered something to the young man, and he suffered himself to be led off hastily into a side street. Meantime the crowd at c VOL. I. the other side of the street, hearing the laughter, and seeing the gleam of the knife blade, rushed across just as the man had managed to get himself into a sitting posture on the ground. There he sat stunned for a minute, looking at the pros trate body beside him in terror.

"Mother o' Moses! what have I done at all at all ? " he cried, with a rich Irish brogue. " The poor innoshent girl I've kilt as dead as a door-nail. Och, it's hanged I'll be noAV in arnest ! Why don't some of ye run for the crowner or the Lord Liftinant, and get me dacently hung off hand, and without any fuss ? Och, me honey, rise and tell us yer not kilt all out ! Ah, she's stiff already — stiffer than any corpse I ever silt ! Oh, murther and turf, what'll come to us all this blissed day ? " " Come up, ye fool," cried one of his companions, while the crowd roared with laughter. " Come up, and don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you are already." " Och, ye brutes — ye bastes — to be yel lin' and laughin' Avhile the poor innoshent colleen lies there stiff and cold ! " cried the Irishman, trying to rise.

" He won't go out of this until I am paid five pounds for the damage done," cried the haberdasher. " I hope I'll re ceive your protection, gentlemen." " What's five or ten pounds to us ? " said one of the miners, pulling out a handful of shining sovereigns fresh from the Sydney mint. "Better say ten pounds and call it square, governor. Here's the chink, and five sovs more to give them milk-faced boys of yours a drink." And he put the handful of gold into the shop keeper's pocket. The Irishman was upon his feet by this time. He observed the transaction with amazement. " Tare an' ages, what a counthry of savages it is ! " he cried. " A man lets one of his family be murthered and only charges five pounds for it. Oh, ye old scoundrel, to see yer own flesh and blood like this ! Ye ought to see the murtherer of yer offspring hung by the neck till he was dead.

Give him another five yelloAV boys, Bill ; its chape at the price, and I'll pay for a headstone meself. Oh, ye hay then, ye hay then ! " Amid the laughter of the crowd the self accused murderer was borne off to his companions on the waggon, and with the cheers of the people mingling with the beating of the drum, the braying of the horn, and the clanging of the cymbals, the six horses were turned down the street at full gallop. The crowd separated to drink MA TE OF THE " JESSICA." 21 the proceeds of the miners' largesse ; the cloud of dust settled doAvn once more upon the hot street, and the sun glared upon the flags and white awnings of the shops as before.

Chapter II

The young man who had, at a risk to himself the extent of which he did not at the moment think about, protected the lady from the insult of the intoxicated miner, was in the friendly custody of two policemen in a small side street, while the tragedy at the door of the haberdasher's was concluding. The policemen had whispered a few smooth words of advice to him when the man had fallen over the murdered stock, and he had been wise enough to check the anger he felt at the drunken assault that had been committed. So when the fellows had come across from the Avaggon DO they kneAv nothing about their companion being throAvn to the ground by the lady's protector ; if they had knoAvn of it, and the young sailor had been on the spot, it would probably have fared badly with him. He was, hoAvever, out of sight of the crowd in another street.

" You seem to be a stranger in the colony, young fellow," said one of the policemen, " or you wouldn't have been such a fool as to interfere with a tipsy miner out on a spree." " Yes, I am a stranger," said the young man. " But I cannot see how any acquaintance with the colony would make me act differently to the way I did." " Ay, so you think now, my lad, and so does everyone for the first month after arriving ; but, bless you, people soon come to think different," said the other, laughing. " Then I hope I may not remain for a month in the colony," said the young man bitterly. ' ' A man must be sunk very low MA TE OF THE " JESSICA." 24 when he will stand by as the people in that crowd did, and see a drunken scoundrel lay his unclean hand upon a lady. I should not be sorry to know that I had brained the fellow upon the pavement."

The policeman laughed. " I should be sorry," he replied ; " I should in that case have thought it my duty to arrest you." " Should you ? " said the sailor. " And yet you didn't think it your duty to arrest that tipsy scoundrel who was the cause of the row." " Ah, you are a stranger, my lad," replied the policeman, pityingly. " The idea of arresting a miner within the first half-hour of his spree ! Why, the whole place would be in an uproar. The trade of Melbourne would be ruined if that principle were to be carried out. Just think, that fellow has spent, say, fifty pounds for the good of trade this morning already ; he has most likely got about a hundred sovereigns in his pocket still, which he will spend or throw away before he gets into a regular row at night, and is either stabbed in a saloon, or locked up in the cells.

If I had arrested him just here, we should probably have been set upon by his companions, and have got a bruising, so no good would have been gained. But even take the case that we had arrested him, and got him safely to the cells, he would not have an opportunity of spending those hundred sovereigns that he has now in his pocket, and so much trade would be lost to the town. Now you see the reason of all." " Reason ! " said the sailor. " This is the queerest idea of reason I ever heard. Never mind, I am young in the colony." While they were talking together the tragedy in the other street was coming to a conclusion, and in a few minutes the waggon was seen passing the end of the street Avhere they stood. " Now, you see, all is over quietly," said the policeman. " And the haberdasher has, you may be sure, contrived to make an honest penny for himself by the transaction.

It was a sensible thing for you to do, to take my advice and come out of the crowd with us. Good-day to you, my lad, and tiy and get into the way of the colony as soon as you can." " I'll try and get out of the Avay of the colony as soon as possible," he replied, walking off. He had become altogether calm by this time, and his thoughts, that had been diverted from his own affairs for a while, returned to their former track. Here he was, acquainted with no one in the place, and with only half a sovereign in his pocket. It would be quite possible to draw a picture of a man in a more fortunate position than that of Charlie Barton — for this was his name — upon this hot December day in the streets of Melbourne. He was about twenty-four years of age, and he was tall and strongly built. His face was very much bronzed by the sun and exposure to rough Aveather, but this only served to make the blue of his eyes look the softer.

His eyes were, in fact, so soft as to seem delicate, and their effect was to neutralize the idea of strength suggested by the rest of his appearance. He had more than once been taken for a weak man — a man with no strength of mind. Per haps, too, he had during his life done enough to justify people in pronouncing him to be of a weak nature. For instance, he surely showed that he possessed very little strength of character when, eight years ago, he had thrown over such excellent prospects as he had all on account of a dispute with his father. Mr. Barton, Senr., was a solicitor in a country town in the West of England, and as his wife was dead, and Charlie his only child, there could be no doubt that, if Charlie behaved discreetly, he should succeed to the profession, in the exercise of which his father had gained a very considerable for tune.

All this was explained to Master Charlie when it was time for him to think of a profession, but, to the amazement of his advisers and to the disgust of his father, he had declined to become an attorney's clerk, and had expressed a desire to enter the army or the navy. " I would rather that you entered a beershop as apprentice," cried his father. " There would be some chance of your making a fortune in a beershop, but Avhat can the army or navy lead to but beg gary." " But I don't Avant a fortune," Charlie had said. " I don't think that money is everything. I want to see the world." " Stuff and nonsense, sir," his father had replied. " I have never seen the Avorld, as you call it, and I don't think I'm any thing the worse for it. I'm in a respectable position, with one of the best practices in the county.

One part of the world is pretty much the same as another. When you've been and seen a place you come away, and you've gained nothing — you have nothing to show for your trouble." In spite of the force of this reasoning, however, Charlie had kept to his own opinion : he Avould see the world, and he had continued to give his attention to cartridge cases instead of law cases, and lifeboat davits took the place of affidavits in his mind. All this good Mr. Barton saw, Avith dismay first and Avith anger afterwards, and a certain confidential clerk, Avhom he had as his right hand in his business, took care to point out to him eA'erything that Charlie was doing, and to urge him, in that quiet underhand Avay which is far more forcible than outspoken language, to insist on the boy's choosing betAveen his father's wishes and his own, as speedily as possible.

The poor man was thus induced to bring matters to a climax. He summoned his son into his presence one evening and put the question to him in a straightforward way : was he prepared to choose between the honourable career of a country solicitor Avith a good business ready-made for him, and the beggarly pro fession of arms, whether Aveapons or yard arms. Charlie did not take long to consider ; he repeated what he had said long before : he Avanted to see the world. " Then go and see your Avorld," cried his father, passionately, " but Avhen you have seen it, don't think that you may come back here to see me and to live upon my money. If you go now you must not think that you have a father. I will never do anything for you, though I should hear that you are staining. " Poor Charlie was young and thought less.

He had missed the care and teaching of a mother. His ideas of a son's duties Avere very vague. He defied his father and lived to pay a heaAy penalty. Their interview had taken place in the evening, and in the night Charlie packed up all the things that he could call his own, with the exception of a choice edition of the poetical works of one Virgil ; and having counted out his money, which amounted to something over four pounds and less than five, he started upon that haziest of all enterprises — seeing the world. This had happened eight years previous to his first appearance in this story, and to recount all that he had passed through during that space of time would require a book to be written considerably larger than the present chronicle is intended to be. In brief, he had become a sailor — be had gone out to see the world — he had seen already a good deal of it ; and the result was that the more he saw of it the more disappointed he felt with it.

After all, his father had been right ; the town of Dorminster was a very fair sample of the world at large. Everything he came in contact with in the world had its counterpart in the town that be had fancied was outside the world altogether. Yes, he found this out after all. After all ! Unfortunately one does not arrive at a conclusion until this period after all. Charlie Barton had bitter ex perience of the truth of his father's advice ; there was no possibility of making a for tune or rising in life at sea. He had, hoAvever, come to think of himself as a sailor, and the chance of ever being any thing else had not suggested itself to him until this day, Avhen he found himself in Melbourne Avith the sum of ten shillings and ninepence in his pocket. He had arrived as second mate of a barque from Sunderland.