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〃Saxtorph waited a while to make sure； and then came down on deck。
He and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement； and I
was pretty well to the bad； while he was helpless now that the shooting
was over。 Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed
them up。 A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out。
There was nothing else to do。 All the rest were dead。 We tried to get up
sail； Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn。 He was once more the stupid
lubber。 He couldn't hoist worth a cent； and when I fell in a faint； it looked
all up with us。
〃When I came to； Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail； waiting
to ask me what he should do。 I told him to overhaul the wounded and see
if there were any able to crawl。 He gathered together six。 One； I remember；
had a broken leg； but Saxtorph said his arms were all right。 I lay in the
shade； brushing the flies off and directing operations； while Saxtorph
bossed his hospital gang。 I'll be blessed if he didn't make those poor
niggers heave at every rope on the pin…rails before he found the halyards。
One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting and slipped down
to the deck dead； but Saxtorph hammered the others and made them stick
by the job。 When the fore and main were up； I told him to knock the
shackle out of the anchor chain and let her go。 I had had myself helped aft
to the wheel； where I was going to make a shift at steering。 I can't guess
how he did it； but instead of knocking the shackle out； down went the
second anchor； and there we were doubly moored。
〃In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the
staysail and jib； and the Duchess filled away for the entrance。 Our decks
were a spectacle。 Dead and dying niggers were everywhere。 They were
wedged away some of them in the most inconceivable places。 The cabin
was full of them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in。 I put
Saxtorph and his graveyard gang to work heaving them overside； and over
they went； the living and the dead。 The sharks had fat pickings that day。
Of course our four murdered sailors went the same way。 Their heads；
however； we put in a sack with weights； so that by no chance should they
drift on the beach and fall into the hands of the niggers。
〃Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew； but they decided
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otherwise。 They watched their opportunity and went over the side。
Saxtorph got two in mid…air with his revolver； and would have shot the
other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him。 I was sick of the
slaughter； you see； and besides； they'd helped work the schooner out。 But
it was mercy thrown away； for the sharks got the three of them。
〃I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land。
Anyway； the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks； when I pulled myself
together and we jogged on with her to Sydney。 Anyway those niggers of
Malu learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a
white man。 In their case； Saxtorph was certainly inevitable。〃
Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said：
〃Well I should say so。 But whatever became of Saxtorph？〃
〃He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack。 For six years
he was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets。 The seventh
year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser； and all
hands； so the talk went； were slammed into the Siberian salt mines。 At
least I've never heard of him since。〃
〃Farming the world；〃 Roberts muttered。 〃Farming the world。 Well
here's to them。 Somebody's got to do itfarm the world； I mean。〃
Captain Woodward rubbed the criss…crosses on his bald head。
〃I've done my share of it；〃 he said。 〃Forty years now。 This will be my
last trip。 Then I'm going home to stay。〃
〃I'll wager the wine you don't；〃 Roberts challenged。 〃You'll die in the
harness； not at home。〃
Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet； but personally I think
Charley Roberts has the best of it。
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THE SEED OF McCOY
The Pyrenees； her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of
wheat； rolled sluggishly； and made it easy for the man who was climbing
aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe。 As his eyes came level with the
rail； so that he could see inboard； it seemed to him that he saw a dim；
almost indiscernible haze。 It was more like an illusion； like a blurring film
that had spread abruptly over his eyes。 He felt an inclination to brush it
away； and the same instant he thought that he was growing old and that it
was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles。
As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts； and；
next； at the pumps。 They were not working。 There seemed nothing the
matter with the big ship； and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal
of distress。 He thought of his happy islanders； and hoped it was not disease。
Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions。 He shook hands with
the captain whose gaunt face and care…worn eyes made no secret of the
trouble； whatever it was。 At the same moment the newcomer was aware of
a faint； indefinable smell。 It seemed like that of burnt bread； but different。
He glanced curiously about him。 Twenty feet away a weary…faced
sailor was calking the deck。 As his eyes lingered on the man； he saw
suddenly arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and
twisted and was gone。 By now he had reached the deck。 His bare feet were
pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses。 He
knew now the nature of the ship's distress。 His eyes roved swiftly forward；
where the full crew of weary…faced sailors regarded him eagerly。 The
glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over them like a benediction；
soothing them； rapping them about as in the mantle of a great peace。 〃How
long has she been afire； Captain？〃 he asked in a voice so gentle and
unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a dove。
At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon him；
then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was going
through smote him； and he was resentful。 By what right did this ragged
beachcomber； in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt； suggest such a thing
as peace and content to him and his overwrought； exhausted soul？ The
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captain did not reason this； it was the unconscious process of emotion that
caused his resentment。
〃Fifteen days；〃 he answered shortly。 〃Who are you？〃
〃My name is McCoy；〃 came the answer in tones that breathed
tenderness and compassion。
〃I mean； are you the pilot？〃
McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall； heavy…
shouldered man with the haggard； unshaven face who had joined the
captain。
〃I am as much a pilot as anybody；〃 was McCoy's answer。 〃We are all
pilots here； Captain； and I know every inch of these waters。〃
But the captain was impatient。
〃What I want is some of the authorities。 I want to talk with them； and
blame quick。〃
〃Then I'll do just as well。〃
Again that insidious suggestion of peace； and his ship a raging furnace
beneath his feet！ The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously；
and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it。
〃Who in hell are you？〃 he demanded。
〃I am the chief magistrate；〃 was the reply in a voice that was still the
softest and gentlest imaginable。
The tall； heavy…shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was
partly amusement； but mostly hysterical。 Both he and the captain regarded
McCoy with incredulity and amazement。 That this barefooted
beachcombe