was on the point of setting, and the western sky was a magnificent picture of massed clouds ablaze with the most brilliant hues of gold, scarlet, crimson, and purple, while the zenith was a vast dome of purest, richest ultramarine. A fresh breeze was blowing steadily out from about west-sou’-west, and there was a long and rather high swell, overrun by seas just heavy enough to break in squadrons of creaming foam-caps that would have meant an anxious night for me had I still been adrift in the life-boat. Apart from those white foam-caps the ocean was a wide expanse of deepest sapphire blue, over which the brigantine was rolling and plunging at a speed of fully eight knots, her taut rigging humming like an Aeolian harp with the sweep of the wind through it. For several minutes after Enderby had left me I stood gazing in admiration at the brilliant, exhilarating scene; then, for the mere pleasure of stretching my legs a bit, after being for so long cramped within the confined limits of the life-boat, I started upon a vigorous tramp fore and aft the weather side of the deck, between the wheel grating and the main rigging.
On the following morning, immediately after breakfast, I had a long talk with Enderby, who came aft to lay before me the proposals of the men as to the terms upon which I was to be admitted to partnership in the adventure. These were, in brief, that in consideration of my undertaking the navigation of the ship, I was to receive one-eleventh part of that half of the treasure to be shared among the crew. So far so good; I had no objection to that part of the proposal, but when we came to the question of my status in the ship I learned that the four foreigners insisted upon the brigantine being run upon strictly socialistic lines: there was to be no skipper, no officers, no giving of orders; the ship was to be worked by two committees consisting of the two watches, who were to decide all questions as to making, shortening, or trimming sail, while I was to have no authority whatever, no voice in anything except just the determination of the courses to be steered.
“Well,” I demanded, “what have you Englishmen to say to such a proposal?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Enderby, “me and Chips is dead against it. We knows as it wouldn’t work at all. Fancy me sayin’: ‘Svorenssen, nip up aloft and stow that there to’garns’l!’ and him turnin’ round and sayin’: ‘If you wants the to’garns’l stowed, nip up and stow it yourself!’ Oh no; it wouldn’t never do.”
“Of course it would not,” I returned. “But what do the other Englishmen think of it?”
“Why, I fancy they don’t much care, one way or t’other,” answered Enderby. “Ye see, sir, they’re an ignorant lot, and can easy be talked over by chaps with the gift of the gab, like Svorenssen and Van Ryn. They’d be all right if they was left to their selves, and was treated as if they was men and not just dumb cattle at the mercy of a brutal driver; but them Dagoes has a way of talkin’ about one man being as good as another that makes ignorant men feel dissatisfied with things the way they are.”
“Just so,” I returned. “I’ve been shipmate with that class of man before to-day, and I know from experience what mischief socialistic doctrines can work in a ship’s forecastle — and elsewhere. Now you can go for’ard and explain to the men that if I am to remain in this ship to navigate her and to find the spot where the treasure is supposed to be, I will have no socialism aboard her. The conditions I insist on are that I am to be skipper; that I am to issue such orders as I may deem necessary for the safety of the ship and the welfare of all hands; and that I am to be obeyed without question or argument of any kind. If the men agree to those conditions, well and good; if not, I shape a course for the nearest port, and leave the ship there.”
“Right ye are, sir,” returned Enderby; “ye may trust me to put the matter to the chaps in a way that they’ll understand; and I don’t think as there’ll be any trouble to speak of. And if there is, I fancy that me and Chips ’ll be able to deal with it.”
With that the boatswain walked away forward to convey my ultimatum to the men, who were all gathered on the forecastle-head, evidently waiting for him, while I turned to Billy, who was standing close by, and said:
“When your father took his sights, Billy, who used to note the chronometer times?”
“Mr Barber, always,” answered Billy; “and then he and Father used to work out the calculations together. But if you want anybody to note the times when you are taking your sights, Mr Blackburn, I can do it for you.”
“Are you sure you can do it quite accurately?” I asked.
“Quite sure!” asserted Billy. “Just you try me, sir.”
“Very well, I will,” said I. “Come below, and let me see what you can do.”
Billy soon demonstrated that he was to be implicitly trusted in the matter of noting the chronometer times while I took my sights, and, the morning being gloriously fine, I had no difficulty in determining the longitude of the ship, which I found to be 50 degrees 48 minutes 40 seconds East, while a meridian altitude of the sun, taken two hours later, gave our latitude as 34 degrees 26 minutes 15 seconds South. Then I got out the chart of the Indian Ocean, pricked off the ship’s position on it, and sat down to consider what should be the next step. For, whether I decided to remain in the ship or to leave her, her position, as now laid down on the chart, showed that a shift of helm would be necessary. It did not take me very long to decide that in any case I would take the ship into Port Louis Harbour, Mauritius, which might be reached in a week, or less if the weather held favourable. Thence I could report to the owners the loss of the Saturn. Also, if I decided to quit the Yorkshire Lass there, I should have the choice of two routes home, namely by Messageries Maritimes, via Madagascar and the Suez Canal; or by the Union-Castle Line, via Cape Town and the Atlantic. If, on the other hand, the crew acceded to my conditions, and I was to remain in the ship, to call at Port Louis would be deviating but a mere trifle from a straight course for the east end of Sandalwood Island, whence I would pass through Maurissa Strait and go over, as nearly as might be, the ground that Barber was said to have travelled before he struck the spot where he was supposed to have found the treasure.
When at length I went up on deck again, Enderby was waiting for me.
“Well,” I said, “have the people for’ard made up their minds what they are going to do? I am rather anxious to know, because upon their decision will depend my final plans.”
“It’s all right, Mr Blackburn,” answered the boatswain. “Them two chaps, Svorenssen and Van Ryn, seemed to have quite made up their minds to have things all their own way; but me and Chips soon brought ’em up with a round turn by tellin’ all hands what you’d said. Says I: ‘Now look here, you chaps. We’ve got the navigator we wants, and if this here treasure place is to be found you may all bet your boots he’ll find it. But he won’t have no socialism, no runnin’ the ship by committees, nor no nonsense of that sort; he’ll be Mister Skipper, and don’t none of you forget it! Now, you was all quite satisfied when Cap’n Stenson commanded the ship: what difference do it make to any of you whether it’s Stenson or Mr Blackburn what gives the orders? It don’t make a hap’orth of difference to e’er a one of ye! Very well, then; me and Chips has been talkin’ things over together and we’ve decided that, havin’ been lucky enough to get hold of Mr Blackburn, we ain’t goin’ to lose ’im because of any socialistic tommy-rot; so if there’s anybody here as objects to Mr Blackburn’s conditions, let ’im say so, and we’ll ask the new skipper to put in somewheres, and we’ll shove the dissatisfied ones ashore.’
“There was a fine old rumpus when I said that. The four Dagoes swore as they wasn’t goin’ to be done out of their share of the treasure for nobody, nor nobody wasn’t goin’ to put ’em out of the ship; and for a minute or two it looked as though we was goin’ to have a mutiny. But we Englishmen all stuck together, the others backin’ up me and Chips; and at last, when the Dagoes seen which way the wind was blowin’, they give in, and said, all right, we
