Beadle's Dime Library No. 230 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

hi 1e If we'd been off the coast of Borneo I wouldn't have been over much pleased to see the prow, for balf the Borneo Malays are pirates, but I knew that all the trade of Java and Sumatra is carried on in the native craft, and I more than gus this fellow to be an honest trader, though how he came to be so far out of bis usual | longitude I didn’t pretend to know. | | ' UUTC —~—<--——= rine 1an oO eee + long to zet money from one side of the world to the other, and Bruce, Hilton & Co. had dead loads.of it. The old man paid me and the men off, hand- some, after we’d gone before the consul to swear to the loss of the ship and we were offered a free passage home on a man-of-war coming in I said as much to the passengers when they | from the Asiatic squadron. an to feel scary, as the prow came in full view, and their heads were full of pirate stories. Lars Nelson put in his oar, as usual, and told them: “The good Lord sent him to us, and you’ll have to believe it now. I never saw one of those rows within five hundred miles of this before. The Lord sent it after us to save us.” We didn’t argue tbe matter, for we were wr too thankful to see the prow, without quarrel- ing over where’she came from. Before dark she was in full sight to her water- line, and we were waving anything we could get to signal her, while she came on asif her le saw us, moon was in ber fifth night down and gave plenty of light while we kindled our fire age in a burry, and made all the blaze we vould, _ And an bour after dark the Malay ranged up alongside the raft, dropped a anoeniin board us, and sent three men in it, in their gay turbans and jackets, though iy afi brutes didn’t know enough to wear trowsers, but just had 4 sort of ashort petticoat that they a sarong, and their spindle shanks bare. One of them came on the raft and began to talk Dutch to us. Sam Peters knew some of it, for he was going to settle in Batavia, and the two Danes talked it pretty well, it being like their own lingo. We found out, as I thought, that the prow was a trader from Bencoolen, going toS ga re, and she’d been blown out of her course by e tail end of the same typhoon that had wreck- ed the poor Spindrift. And as these Malays mostly creep along the coast and — put to sea when they know they oan sight land inside of two days on a steady course, there isn’t one in a hundred knows any- thing of latitude and longitude—no, nor one in a d. And this fellow was as glad to see us as we were to see bim, for he didn’t know where he was; and when I told him I could show him on a mup, he just hug me and rubbed. his nose against mine in their fashion, swearing he’d do an antes for meif l’d only show him how to get to Singapore. I asked him if he’d seen any sails in these parts, for I had a desire to find out if he’d seen engine of the Flying Dutchman. e said yes, but only one—a strange ship that they never could get near, try as they might; for it sailed off into the wind’s eye, and they hadn’t got a good sight of it. Then I knew he must have seen the Flying Dutchman in broad daylight, and I be to wonder bow it would all end, as we shi our folks aboard the prow, where we were pretty crowded, but mighty thankful to have got that raft, which had once seemed like heaven to us. Yes, we left the raft at last, and all we took with us was my navigator’s chest and the box cf canned meats. I knew that as the wind lay for us we would- n’t be more than a day or two in sighting the coast of Sumatra, and after that we'd be all right. found the Malay, whose name was Muda Sing, a good sort of a fellow, and a Christian, He had been bro ht up b the Dutch, and ~ a few words English besides Dutch and ay. ‘He hadn’t so much as a chart of the Sumatra coast on board, and yet he told me he’d sailed all round ayers the islands, and once bad been blown over to the coast of Australia, while he could draw a pretty good map of Malay Archipelago out of his head, and knew every foot of Sumatra and Java coasts. I showed him my charts in the chest, and he knew everything in a minute; and when I ted ont our place at last noon observation, was delighted, and rubbed my nose again. His crew was only five men and a boy, all from Sumatra, and our fourteen com- to the prow promised to eat them out of and home, for they had only started pro- ing in house visioned for a week. But te made us welcome to all he hed and we sat half ‘ r our late : fon, ak the night talking ove @ up next day to find the coast of Atcheen in the Saati of Seon in sight. Well, I reckon I’ve not very much more of wig yarn to spin, and I'll cut the rest of it sbort off. Muda took us into Atchee there the ote year xy 7 very kind, and helped us on to pgapore in a large prow Mr. Bruce's name was ton eel — much intr on an Kast Indi and by the time we’d been two days in _ we were the lions of the place and tee all set ap with money from the ee —— } i ——————————————————————— —————— ee Bruce, Hilton & Co, got their insurance on the Spindrift, and the whole of my passengers staid in Singapore waiting for a Batavia packet while I went off in the Albany frigate with Hackett. Denyse got a birth on the ship George Wasb- ington as first mate; and the Danes drifted off, I couldn't tell where. But one thing I noticed in the Singapore peo- ple made me mad, and I reckon it made the rest mad too. Say what we might and swear to it ever so hard they weuldn’t believe we'd seen the Flying Dutchman. The consul, a young fellow, stuck upas the make them, and always blowing about ‘‘h friends General Brown and Senator Smith,” who got him bis peace, had the impudence to laugh when I told him about the fiery ghost rr and asked me if I’d ever had the jim- ams. I took him down a peg or two by telling him I couldn’t afford to drink that much. [left it to consulsand such-like suckers, And I told him it was none of his business what I swore to so long as I swore to it, not he, and I'd trouble him to attend to his own affairs. yo man said no more, but kept up a grinning all the time he was taking down the evidence, and I could see that he didn’t believe a word of it. The passengers were examined too, and I saw it kind of staggered him when they all pines in the same story, till it came to old Doc Peters. And I was just surprised to see how stubborn some men are in their unbelief. The old doctor and Sam were both what they call material- izers, or something of the sort, and both of them swore that the ship we’d seen wasn’t the Flying Dutcbman at all, but a real vessel disguised in some way. Fhe consul questioned them and Denyse close, but couldn’t get any explanation out of them; and when he heard of Mungo Johnston going off to the fiery ship and getting blown up, he grinned again, and said: ‘“‘Gentlemen, up to that point, I believe your evidence; but i think your eyes must have de- ceived you in that blow-up and vanish business. They can do that on the stage, but not out in the open sea.” They all shut up at that, and Sam Peters looked red, as he said: ‘*Well, you know, consul, we can’t explain everything. I can only swear to what I saw, and you can’t knock that out of me.” ‘ our worthy friends here say,” says the papers at last, and sent us off. nd that’s all I’ve got to tell you about the Fiying Dutchman of 1880, that carried off poor Mungo Johnston. I went home in the Albany, and then I found that our ill-luck at sea was not all that we’d in- herited from that accursed devil-ship, Three | In these days of ocean cables, it don’t take, a ee ee RR RR ee eee a ee ee ee months to a day from the time I sighted the demon from the deck of the Spindrift my poor Maria and the kids were all taken down with typhoid fever, and when I got home I found my little business gone, my wife dead, and only one boy left alive out of my family of five souls. he doctor said it was sewer gas, but I knew better. It was the evil eye of the Flying Dutch- man, and he wouldn’t denied. Sewer gas might bave killed them, but if I hadn’t seen that ship we’d never have bad any sewer ge. I'd lived in that same house for thirty-five years before, and never bad no trouble with sewer N o, I’m not what’s called superstitious, but what I know, I know. acter. Chinese, for all he would ever read it,and I The Flying Dutchman just blasted my life | for me, and if any of you ever has the misfor- tune to see him he'll blast your lives too. As for me, I was quite broke down by coming home asI did. My brother Dan is a farmer ia St. Lawrence county, and be promised to take care of little Abijah—he was weak and sickly after the fever—and din up where he’d never see the ocean or the * poe utchman. I sold out the good-will of what was left of the business—it wasn’t much—and put out the money for little “ir at interest, so as he’d have something to keep him from going to sea. And then I came here, where I hope to spend the rest of my few days, saying m im bog and reading my Bible Iike a good Christ , and thinking over the hard times that wait on those who go down to the sea in ships. I’ve written this down to please some as have heard me tell the story, and my friend, Mr. Poyntz, he allows he’ll hunt up the other people | are parts I should like to strike out as be- in my story and find out what they’ve got to low the dignity. of history. Miss Bruce to say about the Flying Dutchman—if it’s a ghost tell about ying Dutchman and into or not. I’ve told him he’s welcome to try, but | Be™ oW® ns toa pourehoaten Stil, thi ’ I have concluded to let it stand, as how there are some things nobody can find out. | tne events described struck her, a8 a girl of sev Seeing is believing, and I’ve seen what I tell | teen. As a married man and @ family, 5 about. JOHN HUTTON, cannot defend her conduct at all times. Master Mariner. Tue Eprror. ee ee ee | te — ——- — PART IL MAMIE BRUCE’S STORY.* _—---- CHAPTER I. ; DENYSE'S PROMISE. SINGAPORE, 1880.—My dear grandfather has asked me to write down an account of. our su- ventures in the East Indies, and I bardly know how to begin. I was never meant for an au- thoress, or I suppose it would come very easy tome; but 1 must admit I do hate writing. i always get my fingers black with the ink; and all the soap I can use won’t take off the steins. And then the words won’t divide themselves: right oe lines, and I do nos to ne a big piece of paper, use grap saya lo , not to be cutting words in balf at the end of a line, on account of the printers not. being able: to read it fast enough. Just as if I knew any- thing about printers, except that they always have black hands and about and pies, and galleys, and takes; and a number of other things just as stupid. But | have always obeyed grandpa ever since I came to him—oh, ever so many years little midget of five, with no father.or. : and he has been everything to me since then. Sometimes I think I must have tried him a good deal when I was a child, for I. know 1 was iled, and used to be always good to me and never scolded me since I can remember. And since I have were older be has often told me, with tears his eyes, that I am the last of the Bruces; that they have all gone before me, and that when I am married the old name will perish. But I always tell him I don’t want to married, and neither I do. I think it will real nice to be an old maid and Ja at the men all your life, when you know they don’t want you, but your money. To be sure, a poor old maid is different; but that has nothing to do with my story, so i may as well begin where qrandne told me, after we got safe t: Singapore and I began to think we must be destined for something awfully roman- & tic. So I bought a new diary at once. buy- ing areal East Indian diary in : tee of ra- jahs, and Malays, and pirates in red with beautiful qold-taind daggers in the loveliest shawls you ever saw round their waists, and going around with bare feet, too. But it wasn’t a real Oriental diary after ¥ though I bought it of a young man who like a pe out of the Arabian Nights, I thought it was, till that impudent Dr. Peters—the doctor, I mean—showed me a little label pa in the cover, which read “ Tragacanthand Van Guild, Manufacturing Stationers, 275 Nassau stree New York.” Aad then he asked how. much, consul, with another grin, but be signed our Paid for it and told me I'd come half-way round the world to get something I could have got at home for one-third the price. It did make me feel rather flat, 1 own, and next day I bought another, about which there was no mistake, for it had a Chinese label on it and was made of silk paper. And when I showed that to my gentleman, he hadn’t a word to say against it, except that I cought to keep my diary in Chinese to be in char- But I told him it might as well be saw that he didn’t like that a bit, for be bad been making 7 at me all the way to Singa- pore on that funny Malay sbip, just because I flirted with him a little once or twice on pur- pose to tease another person who thought self irresistible. And after counting them all up, there was not one of them that was worthy to the sfoes of my poor cousin, who lies deep, deep down in the bosom of the Indian Ocean, never to come hack again. Poor Mungo! To be sure, he was very, very plain; but be wasso good to every —. and so brave and patient. And he saved my life when I might bave been swallowed up in that terrible raging sea. And he took all ae insulenee so ) pat though 1 knew | treated him like a dog. grandpa bas told me so many about him since we lost bim. Poor 1! He actually bad an idea of bringing us two to — seme day, all on account of some o teh rhyme that says: 1 “Jo sire, and Bruce for mither Mak" a baitn to pase all ither.” And he has told me how r nem y knew 64 much, and had taught it all to hi , and be.) * If the serious reader be at times shocked by « certains 000 ed Line thet cin oi ee gto re w sae alles Bruce was not quite seventeen at the time she indited her confessions. 1 own that IOO <€om (E com