Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

336 Lund strode back and forth behind Rainey, who had the wheel. The hunters were grouped about Carlsen, who, seated on the skylight, was telling them something at which they guffawed at frequent-intervals. ‘Spinnin’ them some of his smutty yarns,” growled Lund, halting in his prome- nade. ‘“ Bad for discipline, an’ bad for us. He’s the sort of fine-feathered bird that wouldn’t give those chaps a first look ashore. Gittin’ in solid with ’em that way is a bad steer. You can’t handle a man you make a pal of, w’en he ain’t yore rank.” “ Carlsen’s slack, but he’s a good sailor- man,” said Rainey casually. “ Damn sight better sailorman than he is doctor,” retorted Lund. “ Hear him the other mornin’ w’en I asked him if he c’ud give me somethin’ to help my eyes hurtin’? ‘I’m no eye specialist,’ sez he. ‘ Try some boracic acid, my man.’ I wouldn’t put ennything in my eyes /e’d give me, you can lay to that. He’d give me vitriol, if he thought I’d use it. I wouldn’t let him treat a sick cat 0’ mine. He’s the kind 0’ doctor that uses his title to give him privi- leges with the wimmin. I know his sort.” Rainey wondered why Lund had asked Carlsen for a lotion if he did not mean to use it, but he did not provoke further argu- ment. Lund was going on. “He don’t do the skipper enny good, thet’s certain.” “Captain Simms seems to believe in him,” answered Rainey. He wondered how much of Carlsen’s increasing dominance over the skipper Lund had noticed. “Simms is Carlsen’s dog!” exploded Lund. “The doc’s got somethin’ on him, mark me. Carlsen’s a bad egg an’, w’en he hatches, you’ll see a buzzard. An’ you wait till he’s needed as a doctor on somethin’ that. takes more’n a few kind words or a lick out a bottle.” There was a stir among the hunters. Lund turned his spectacled eyes in the di- rection of the slight noise they made. ‘What are they up to now?” he queried. “ Goin’ to play poker? Wish I had my eyes. I’d show ’em how to read the pips.” Hansen came aft, offering to take the wheel. 7 THE ARGOSY. “They bane goin’ to shute at targets,” he said. ‘‘ Meester Carlsen he put up prizes. For rifle an’ shotgun. Thought you might like to watch it, sir.” Rainey gave over the spokes and went to the starboard rail with Lund, watching the preparations between fore and main masts for the competition, and telling Lund what was happening. Carlsen gave out some shotgun cartridges from cardboard boxes, twelve to each of the six hunters. “Hunters pay for their own shells,” said Lund. ‘“ But they buy ’em from the ship. Mate’s perkisite. They usually have some shells on hand for the rifles, but the paper cases 0’ the shotgun cartridges’ suck up the damp an’ they keep better in the magazine in the cabin. What they shootin’ at? Bottles?” Sandy, the roustabout, had been requi- sitioned to toss up empty bottles, and those who failed cursed him for a poor thrower. A hunter named Deming made no misses, and secured the first prize of ten dollars in gold with a man named Beale scoring two behind him, and getting half the amount from Carlsen. Then came the test with the rifles. The weapons were all of the same caliber, well oiled, and in perfect condition. As Lund had said, each of the hunters had a few shells in his possession, but they lacked the total of six dozen by a considerable margin. Carlsen went below for the necessary am- munition while the target was completed and set in place. A keg had been rigged with a weight underslung to keep it upright, and a tin can, painted white, set on a short spar in one end of the keg. A light line was attached to a bridle, and the mark low- ered over the stern, where it rode, bobbing in the ‘trail of the schooner’s wake, thirty fathoms from the taffrail where the crowd eathered. -Carlsen, returning, ordered Hansen to steer fine. He gave each competitor a limit of ten seconds for his aim, contributing an element of chance that made the contest a sporting cne.. Without the counting, each would have deliberately waited for the most favorable moment when the schooner hung in the trough and the white can was backed (eo) 0)(0\0) nn) S (C@)