WATCH Sexy Elisha Cuthbert In Action  CLICK HERE for Instant Access Elisha Cuthbert Photos |
Elisha Cuthbert Photos Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
for myself; and out of
the courage of fear I evolved the plan of fighting Thomas Mugridge
with his own weapons. I borrowed a whetstone from Johansen.
Louis, the boat-steerer, had already begged me for condensed milk
and sugar. The lazarette, where such delicacies were stored, was
situated beneath the cabin floor. Watching my chance, I stole five
cans of the milk, and that night, when it was Louiss watch on
deck, I traded them with him for a dirk as lean and cruel-looking
as Thomas Mugridges vegetable knife. It was rusty and dull, but I
turned the grindstone while Louis gave it an edge. I slept more
soundly than usual that night.
Next morning, after breakfast, Thomas Mugridge began his whet,
whet, whet. I glanced warily at him, for I was on my knees taking
the ashes from the stove. When I returned from throwing them
overside, he was talking to Harrison, whose honest yokels face was
filled with fascination and wonder.
"Yes," Mugridge was saying, "an wot does is worship do but give
me two years in Reading. But blimey if I cared. The other mug was
fixed plenty. Should a seen im. Knife just like this. I stuck
it in, like into soft butter, an the wy e squealed was bettern
a tu-penny gaff." He shot a glance in my direction to see if I was
taking it in, and went on. "I didnt mean it Tommy, e was
snifflin; so elp me Gawd, I didnt mean it! "Ill fix yer
bloody well right, I sez, an kept right after im. I cut im in
ribbons, thats wot I did, an e a-squealin all the time. Once
e got is and on the knife an tried to old it. Ad is fingers
around it, but I pulled it through, cuttin to the bone. O, e was
a sight, I can tell yer."
A call from the mate interrupted the gory narrative, and Harrison
went aft. Mugridge sat down on the raised threshold to the galley
and went on with his knife-sharpening. I put the shovel away and
calmly sat down on the coal-box facing him. He favoured me with a
vicious stare. Still calmly, though my heart was going pitapat, I
pulled out Louiss dirk and began to whet it on the stone. I had
looked for almost any sort of explosion on the Cockneys part, but
to my surprise he did not appear aware of what I was doing. He
went on whetting his knife. So did I. And for two hours we sat
there, face to face, whet, whet, whet, till the news of it spread
abroad and half the ships company was crowding the galley doors to
see the sight.
Encouragement and advice were freely tendered, and Jock Horner, the
quiet, self-spoken hunter who looked as though he would not harm a
mouse, advised me to leave the ribs alone and to thrust upward for
the abdomen, at the same time giving what he called the "Spanish
twist" to the blade. Leach, his bandaged arm prominently to the
fore, begged me to leave a few remnants of the cook for him; and
Wolf Larsen paused once or twice at the break of the poop to glance
curiously at what must have been to him a stirring and crawling of
the yeasty thing he knew as life.
And I make free to say that for the time being life assumed the
same sordid values to me. There was nothing pretty about it,
nothing divine--only two cowardly moving things that sat whetting
steel upon stone, and a group of other moving things, cowardly and
otherwise, that looked on. Half of them, I am sure, were anxious
to see us shedding each others blood. It would have been
entertainment. And I do not think there was one who would have
interfered had we closed in a death-struggle.
On the other hand, the whole thing was laughable and childish.
Whet, whet, whet,--Humphrey Van Weyden sharpening his knife in a
ships galley and trying its edge with his thumb! Of all
situations this was the most inconceivable. I know that my own
kind could not have believed it possible. I had not been called
"Sissy" Van Weyden all my days without reason, and that "Sissy" Van
Weyden should be capable of doing this thing was a revelation The Sea Wolf page 36 The Sea Wolf page 38 |