Captains Courageous, Rudyard Kipling [uplifting novels txt] 📗

pier-heads; but he understood things from the inside— more things than he could begin to think about. None the less, he could have sat down and howled because the little schooner was going off. Mrs. Cheyne simply cried and cried every step of the way and said most extraordinary things to Mrs. Troop, who “babied” her till Dan, who had not been “babied” since he was six, whistled aloud.

And so the old crowd—Harvey felt like the most ancient of mariners dropped into the old schooner among the battered dories, while Harvey slipped the stern-fast from the pier-head, and they slid her along the wharf-side with their hands. Every one wanted to say so much that no one said anything in particular. Harvey bade Dan take care of Uncle Salters’s sea-boots and Penn’s dory-anchor, and Long Jack entreated Harvey to remember his lessons in seamanship; but the jokes fell flat in the presence of the two women, and it is hard to be funny with green harbour-water widening between good friends.

“Up jib and fores’l!” shouted Disko, getting to the wheel, as the wind took her. “See you later, Harve. Dunno but I come near thinkin’ a heap o’ you an’ your folks.”

Then she glided beyond ear-shot, and they sat down to watch her up the harbour, And still Mrs. Cheyne wept.

“Pshaw, my dear,” said Mrs. Troop: “we’re both women, I guess. Like’s not it’ll ease your heart to hev your cry aout. God He knows it never done me a mite o’ good, but then He knows I’ve had something to cry fer!”

 

Now it was a few years later, and upon the other edge of America, that a young man came through the clammy sea fog up a windy street which is flanked with most expensive houses built of wood to imitate stone. To him, as he was standing by a hammered iron gate, entered on horseback—and the horse would have been cheap at a thousand dollars—another young man. And this is what they said:

“Hello, Dan!”

“Hello, Harve!”

“What’s the best with you?”

“Well, I’m so’s to be that kind o’ animal called second mate this trip. Ain’t you most through with that triple invoiced college of yours?”

“Getting that way. I tell you, the Leland Stanford Junior, isn’t a circumstance to the old ‘We’re Here’; but I’m coming into the business for keeps next fall.”

“Meanin’ aour packets?”

“Nothing else. You just wait till I get my knife into you, Dan. I’m going to make the old line lie down and cry when I take hold.”

“I’ll resk it,” said Dan, with a brotherly grin, as Harvey dismounted and asked whether he were coming in.

“That’s what I took the cable fer; but, say, is the doctor anywheres araound? I’ll draown that crazy nigger some day, his one cussed joke an’ all.”

There was a low, triumphant chuckle, as the ex-cook of the ‘We’re Here’ came out of the fog to take the horse’s bridle. He allowed no one but himself to attend to any of Harvey’s wants.

“Thick as the Banks, ain’t it, doctor?” said Dan, propitiatingly.

But the coal-black Celt with the second-sight did not see fit to reply till he had tapped Dan on the shoulder, and for the twentieth time croaked the old, old prophecy in his ear.

“Master—man. Man—master,” said he. “You remember, Dan Troop, what I said? On the ‘We’re Here’?”

“Well, I won’t go so far as to deny that it do look like it as things stand at present,” said Dan. “She was a noble packet, and one way an’ another I owe her a heap—her and Dad.”

“Me too,” quoth Harvey Cheyne.

 

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Captains Courageous, by Kipling