one, and try to make the fortune that I covet.” (Alas! how different from my real wishes, thought Philip, as he made this reply.)
“Fortunes are made, and fortunes are swallowed up too, by the ocean,” replied the captain. “If I could turn this good ship into a good house, with plenty of guilders to keep the house warm, you would not find me standing on this poop. I have doubled the Cape twice, which is often enough for any man; the third time may not be so lucky.”
“Is it so dangerous, then?” said Philip.
“As dangerous as tides and currents, rocks and sand-banks, hard gales and heavy seas, can make it—no more! Even when you anchor in the bay, on this side of the Cape, you ride in fear and trembling, for you may be blown away from your anchor to sea or be driven on shore among the savages, before the men can well put on their clothing. But when once you’re well on the other side of the Cape, then the water dances to the beams of the sun as if it were merry, and you may sail for weeks with a cloudless sky and a following breeze, without starting tack or sheet, or having to take your pipe out of your mouth.”
“What ports shall we go into, Mynheer?”
“Of that I can say but little. Gambroon, in the Gulf of Persia, will probably be the first rendezvous of the whole fleet. Then we shall separate: some will sail direct for Bantam, in the island of Java; others will have orders to trade down the Straits for camphor, gum, benzoin, and wax; they have also gold and the teeth of the elephant to barter with us: there (should we be sent thither) you must be careful with the natives, Mynheer Vanderdecken. They are fierce and treacherous, and their curved knives (or creeses, as they call them) are sharp and deadly poisoned. I have had hard fighting in those Straits both with Portuguese and English.”
“But we are all at peace now.”
“True, my son; but when round the Cape, we must not trust to papers signed at home; and the English press us hard, and tread upon our heels wherever we go. They must be checked; and I suspect our fleet is so large and well appointed in expectation of hostilities.”
“How long do you expect your voyage may occupy us?”
“That’s as may be: but I should say about two years;—nay, if not detained by the factors, as I expect we shall be, for some hostile service, it may be less.”
“Two years,” thought Philip, “two years from Amine!” and he sighed deeply, for he felt that their separation might be for ever.
“Nay, my son, two years is not so long,” said Mynheer Kloots, who observed the passing cloud on Philip’s brow. “I was once five years away, and was unfortunate, for I brought home nothing, not even my ship. I was sent to Chittagong, on the east side of the great Bay of Bengala, and lay for three months in the river. The chiefs of the country would detain me by force; they would not barter for my cargo, or permit me to seek another market. My powder had been landed and I could make no resistance. The worms ate through the bottom of my vessel and she sank at her anchors. They knew it would take place, and that then they would have my cargo at their own price. Another vessel brought us home. Had I not been so treacherously served, I should have had no need to sail this time; and now my gains are small, the Company forbidding all private trading. But here he comes at last; they have hoisted the ensign on the staff in the boat; there—they have shoved off. Mynheer Hillebrant, see the gunners ready with their linstocks to salvo the supercargo.”
“What duty do you wish me to perform?” observed Philip. “In what can I be useful?”
“At present you can be of little use, except in those heavy gales in which every pair of hands is valuable. You must look and learn for some time yet; but you can make a fair copy of the journal kept for the inspection of the Company, and may assist me in various ways, as soon as the unpleasant nausea, felt by those who first embark, has subsided. As a remedy, I should propose that you gird a handkerchief tight round your body so as to compress the stomach, and make frequent application of my bottle of schnapps, which you will find always at your service. But now to receive the factor of the most puissant Company. Mynheer Hillebrant, let them discharge the cannon.”
The guns were fired, and soon after the smoke had cleared away, the boat, with its long ensign trailing on the water, was pulled alongside. Philip watched the appearance of the supercargo—but he remained in the boat until several of the boxes with the initials and arms of the Company were first handed on the deck; at last the supercargo appeared.
He was a small, spare, wizen-faced man with a three-cornered cocked-hat, bound with broad gold lace, upon his head, under which appeared a full-bottomed flowing wig, the curls of which descended low upon his shoulders. His coat was of crimson velvet, with broad flaps: his waistcoat of white silk, worked in coloured flowers, and descending half-way down to his knees. His breeches were of black satin, and his legs were covered with white silk stockings. Add to this, gold buckles at his knees and in his shoes, lace ruffles to his wrists, and a silver-mounted cane in his hand, and the reader has the entire dress of Mynheer Jacob Janz Von Stroom, the supercargo of the Honourable Company, appointed to the good ship Ter Schilling.
As he looked round him, surrounded at a respectful distance, by the captain, officers, and men of the ship, with their caps in their hands, the reader might be reminded of the picture of the “Monkey who had seen the world,” surrounded by his tribe. There was not, however, the least inclination on the part of the seamen to laugh, even at his flowing, full-bottomed wig: respect was at that period paid to dress; and although Mynheer Von Stroom could not be mistaken for a sailor, he was known to be the supercargo of the Company, and a very great man. He therefore received all the respect due to so important a personage.
Mynheer Von Stroom did not, however, appear very anxious to remain on deck. He requested to be shown into his cabin, and followed the captain aft, picking his way among the coils of ropes with which his path was encumbered. The door was opened, and the supercargo disappeared. The ship was then got under weigh, the men had left the windlass, the sails had been trimmed, and they were securing the anchor on board, when the bell of the poop-cabin (appropriated to the supercargo) was pulled with great violence.
“What can that be?” said Mynheer Kloots (who was forward), taking the pipe out of his mouth. “Mynheer Vanderdecken, will you see what is the matter?”
Philip went aft, as the pealing of the bell continued, and opening the cabin door, discovered the supercargo perched upon the table and pulling the bell-rope, which hung over its centre, with every mark of fear in his countenance. His wig was off, and his bare skull gave him an appearance peculiarly ridiculous.
“What is the matter, sir?” inquired Philip.
“Matter!” spluttered Mynheer Von Stroom—“call the troops in with their firelocks. Quick, sir. Am I to be murdered, torn to pieces, and devoured? For mercy’s sake, sir, don’t stare, but do something—look, it’s coming to the table! O dear! O dear!” continued the supercargo, evidently terrified out of his wits.
Philip, whose eyes had been fixed on Mynheer Von Stroom, turned them in the direction pointed out, and much to his astonishment perceived a small bear upon the deck, who was amusing himself with the supercargo’s flowing wig, which he held in his paws, tossing it about and now and then burying his muzzle in it. The unexpected sight of the animal was at first a shock to Philip; but a moment’s consideration assured him that the animal must be harmless, or it never would have been permitted to remain loose in the vessel.
Nevertheless, Philip had no wish to approach the animal, whose disposition he was unacquainted with, when the appearance of Mynheer Kloots put an end to his difficulty.
“What
