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第38章

the jacket (the star-rover)-第38章

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shall see。



Toward the end we came to the charted country of Japan。  But the

people would have no dealings with us; and two sworded officials; in

sweeping robes of silk that made Captain Johannes Maartens' mouth

water; came aboard of us and politely requested us to begone。  Under

their suave manners was the iron of a warlike race; and we knew; and

went our way。



We crossed the Straits of Japan and were entering the Yellow Sea on

our way to China; when we laid the Sparwehr on the rocks。  She was a

crazy tub the old Sparwehr; so clumsy and so dirty with whiskered

marine…life on her bottom that she could not get out of her own way。

Close…hauled; the closest she could come was to six points of the

wind; and then she bobbed up and down; without way; like a derelict

turnip。  Galliots were clippers compared with her。  To tack her

about was undreamed of; to wear her required all hands and half a

watch。  So situated; we were caught on a lee shore in an eight…point

shift of wind at the height of a hurricane that had beaten our souls

sick for forty…eight hours。



We drifted in upon the land in the chill light of a stormy dawn

across a heartless cross…sea mountain high。  It was dead of winter;

and between smoking snow…squalls we could glimpse the forbidding

coast; if coast it might be called; so broken was it。  There were

grim rock isles and islets beyond counting; dim snow…covered ranges

beyond; and everywhere upstanding cliffs too steep for snow; outjuts

of headlands; and pinnacles and slivers of rock upthrust from the

boiling sea。



There was no name to this country on which we drove; no record of it

ever having been visited by navigators。  Its coast…line was only

hinted at in our chart。  From all of which we could argue that the

inhabitants were as inhospitable as the little of their land we

could see。



The Sparwehr drove in bow…on upon a cliff。  There was deep water to

its sheer foot; so that our sky…aspiring bowsprit crumpled at the

impact and snapped short off。  The foremast went by the board; with

a great snapping of rope…shrouds and stays; and fell forward against

the cliff。



I have always admired old Johannes Maartens。  Washed and rolled off

the high poop by a burst of sea; we were left stranded in the waist

of the ship; whence we fought our way for'ard to the steep…pitched

forecastle…head。  Others joined us。  We lashed ourselves fast and

counted noses。  We were eighteen。  The rest had perished。



Johannes Maartens touched me and pointed upward through cascading

salt…water from the back…fling of the cliff。  I saw what he desired。

Twenty feet below the truck the foremast ground and crunched against

a boss of the cliff。  Above the boss was a cleft。  He wanted to know

if I would dare the leap from the mast…head into the cleft。

Sometimes the distance was a scant six feet。  At other times it was

a score; for the mast reeled drunkenly to the rolling and pounding

of the hull on which rested its splintered butt。



I began the climb。  But they did not wait。  One by one they unlashed

themselves and followed me up the perilous mast。  There was reason

for haste; for at any moment the Sparwehr might slip off into deep

water。  I timed my leap; and made it; landing in the cleft in a

scramble and ready to lend a hand to those who leaped after。  It was

slow work。  We were wet and half freezing in the wind…drive。

Besides; the leaps had to be timed to the roll of the hull and the

sway of the mast。



The cook was the first to go。  He was snapped off the mast…end; and

his body performed cart…wheels in its fall。  A fling of sea caught

him and crushed him to a pulp against the cliff。  The cabin boy; a

bearded man of twenty…odd; lost hold; slipped; swung around the

mast; and was pinched against the boss of rock。  Pinched?  The life

squeezed from him on the instant。  Two others followed the way of

the cook。  Captain Johannes Maartens was the last; completing the

fourteen of us that clung on in the cleft。  An hour afterward the

Sparwehr slipped off and sank in deep water。



Two days and nights saw us near to perishing on that cliff; for

there was way neither up nor down。  The third morning a fishing…boat

found us。  The men were clad entirely in dirt white; with their long

hair done up in a curious knot on their patesthe marriage knot; as

I was afterward to learn; and also; as I was to learn; a handy thing

to clutch hold of with one hand whilst you clouted with the other

when an argument went beyond words。



The boat went back to the village for help; and most of the

villagers; most of their gear; and most of the day were required to

get us down。  They were a poor and wretched folk; their food

difficult even for the stomach of a sea…cuny to countenance。  Their

rice was brown as chocolate。  Half the husks remained in it; along

with bits of chaff; splinters; and unidentifiable dirt which made

one pause often in the chewing in order to stick into his mouth

thumb and forefinger and pluck out the offending stuff。  Also; they

ate a sort of millet; and pickles of astounding variety and ungodly

hot。



Their houses were earthen…walled and straw…thatched。  Under the

floors ran flues through which the kitchen smoke escaped; warming

the sleeping…room in its passage。  Here we lay and rested for days;

soothing ourselves with their mild and tasteless tobacco; which we

smoked in tiny bowls at the end of yard…long pipes。  Also; there was

a warm; sourish; milky…looking drink; heady only when taken in

enormous doses。  After guzzling I swear gallons of it; I got singing

drunk; which is the way of sea…cunies the world over。  Encouraged by

my success; the others persisted; and soon we were all a…roaring;

little reeking of the fresh snow gale piping up outside; and little

worrying that we were cast away in an uncharted; God…forgotten land。

Old Johannes Maartens laughed and trumpeted and slapped his thighs

with the best of us。  Hendrik Hamel; a cold…blooded; chilly…poised

dark brunette of a Dutchman with beady black eyes; was as rarely

devilish as the rest of us; and shelled out silver like any drunken

sailor for the purchase of more of the milky brew。  Our carrying…on

was a scandal; but the women fetched the drink while all the village

that could crowd in jammed the room to witness our antics。



The white man has gone around the world in mastery; I do believe;

because of his unwise uncaringness。  That has been the manner of his

going; although; of course; he was driven on by restiveness and lust

for booty。  So it was that Captain Johannes Maartens; Hendrik Hamel;

and the twelve sea…cunies of us roystered and bawled in the fisher

village while the winter gales whistled across the Yellow Sea。



From the little we had seen of the land and the people we were not

impressed by Cho…Sen。  If these miserable fishers were a fair sample

of the natives; we could understand why the land was unvisited of

navigators。  But we were to learn different。  The village was on an

in…lying island; and its headmen must have sent word across to the

mainland; for one morning three big two…masted junks with lateens of

rice…matting dropped anchor off the beach。



When the sampans came ashore Captain Johannes Maartens was all

interest; for here were silks again。  One strapping Korean; all in

pale…tinted silks of various colours; was surrounded by half a dozen

obsequious attendants; also clad in silk。  Kwan Yung…jin; as I came

to know his name; was a YANG…BAN; or noble; also he was what might

be called magistrate or governor of the district or province。  This

means that his office was appointive; and that he was a tithe…

squeezer or tax…farmer。



Fully a hundred soldiers were also landed and marched into the

village。  They were armed with three…pronged spears; slicing spears;

and chopping spears; with here and there a matchlock of so heroic

mould that there were two soldiers to a matchlock; one to carry and


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