Adventure Magazine Cover — page 172: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

164 absurd jobs, and swearing at sailors who did their work with seamanlike exactness. They talked about him in the foc’sle; and old sailors, going to the bosun, shook their heads. “The mate’s going crazy,” they said. “He’s crazy now—there ain’t no suitin’ him.” “Sick or crazy, I don’t know which; but he’s going to spill the ship over if he ain’t watched,” replied the bosun, and went to the second mate. “He’s a sick man,” said the second, shrugging his shoulders. There came a day when the railings were being painted. The May Flint’s railings were white; and Lowrie set men to work upon them with every shade of color in the paint locker. The skipper, seeing from the bridge that there was something wrong, went to the deck and spoke to Lowrie. Lowrie, looking at him, was shaken by a fit of coughing, putting a hand to his side. ‘Better come and lie down,” said the skipper. The bosun took charge of the deck; but in a few minutes Lowrie was back, stag- gering and swearing at the hands. The bosun, motioning to a sailor, they took his arms and tried to lead him away. He struggled, and becoming suddenly sane cried: ‘1 What’s the matter? I’mallright.” He tried to shake them away from him, but, with the hands looking on, they forced him to his room. No one had ever seen such a thing—a mate gone crazy at sea. They lay him in his bunk and he sat up and coughed, a hand to his side; the skipper coming to look at him, puzzled; the medi- cine chest all but empty, holding nothing save a bottle of salts and a bottle of linsced oil. Going to it he mixed a glass of salts, bringing it to the mate, who sat up, holding it to his lips, trembling, his forehead hot, his side burning. Hearing the lap of the sea against the ship’s side he sprang from his bunk, spilling the salts. - , sir! I’m all right,” he said; the skipper holding him back; he struggling; and the carpenter and bosun coming from their dinners in the cabin, helping to quiet the sick man, lifting him back to his bunk; he lying prostrate, exhausted, the three of them watching him till he fell into an uneasy sleep. Adventure ‘‘We may have to put the irons on him. He’s liable to get dangerous,” said the skipper, adding— ‘“‘the salts are all gone— I don’t know what to do for him.”’ It was the talk of the ship. The bosun took his watch, while he lay in his bunk; waited upon by the steward, bringing him the fare of the sea—salt beef, pea soup, hard tack, canned vegetables, or canned tripe and onions. The hands liked him, and, coming to the quarter-deck, inquired for him. “Reckon ’twas that time in a boat, off the Horn, that started it, sir,” one of them said one day, asking the second how the sick man was getting along. The second, never having heard of it, asked what he meant. ‘“‘“A week in a boat, sir, off old Stiff— picked up when the hands with him was about dead. They say that if it hadn’t been for him, sir, they’d all have died.” The second speaking of it to the skipper, the skipper opened his eyes. “That must have been the Tekoa—I heard about that.” Shaking his head he went to Lowric’s room; Lowrie staring at him, coughing. “Mr. Lowrie, were you with the Tekoa that time<sire”” Lowrie nodded, whispering, hoarsely, a hand to his side— . “Six days—in an open boat—’’ falling back, exhausted by the cough; the skipper watching him; his lips moving— ‘“Nance—” and, “I’m coming back, sir— you know what for—” smiling, he fell into a restless sleep. alg side the heads, and let her go. The wind was offshore, fresh from the northeast and, lifting her heels, she danced to the tune it piped. They gave her her wings—courses, topsails, topgallants, royals, staysails and main skysail, gaff topsail and spanker. Nance Dowser, by the taffrail, watched the shore-line fade. There was no ship upon the sea. The Fancy Nan was alone; the horizon shining as a gate wide open, with the sea-winds blowing through; the land a haze, growing rapidly fainter; the seas about her green, and blue to the westward. Mr. Tattersall stared into the weather. xX THE tug took the Fancy Nan out- (© (Cc DOOKS C@