Life on the Mississippi - Mark Twain [72]
His face turned red with passion; he made one bound, hurled me across the house with a sweep of his arm, spun the wheel down, and began to pour out a stream of vituperation upon me which lasted till he was out of breath. In the course of this speech he called me all the different kinds of hard names he could think of, and once or twice I thought he was even going to swear—but he had never done that, and he didn’t this time. “Dod-dern” was the nearest he ventured to the luxury of swearing, for he had been brought up with a wholesome respect for future fire and brimstone.
That was an uncomfortable hour; for there was a big audience on the hurricane deck. When I went to bed that night, I killed Brown in seventeen different ways—all of them new.
CHAPTER XIX
Brown and I Exchange Compliments
Two trips later, I got into serious trouble. Brown was steering; I was “pulling down.” My younger brother appeared on the hurricane deck and shouted to Brown to stop at some landing or other a mile or so below. Brown gave no intimation that he had heard anything. But that was his way: he never condescended to take notice of an under clerk. The wind was blowing; Brown was deaf (although he always pretended he wasn’t), and I very much doubted if he had heard the order. If I had had two heads, I would have spoken; but as I had only one, it seemed judicious to take care of it; so I kept still.
Presently, sure enough, we went sailing by that plantation. Captain Klinefelter appeared on the deck, and said:
“Let her come around, sir, let her come around. Didn’t Henry tell you to land here?”
“No, sir!”
“I sent him up to do it.”
“He did come up; and that’s all the good it done, the dod-derned fool. He never said anything.”
“Didn’t you hear him?” asked the captain of me.
Of course I didn’t want to be mixed up in this business, but there was no way to avoid it; so I said:
“Yes, sir.”
I knew what Brown’s next remark would be, before he uttered it; it was:
“Shut your mouth! You never heard anything of the kind.”
I closed my mouth according to instructions. An hour later, Henry entered the pilothouse, unaware of what had been going on. He was a thoroughly inoffensive boy, and I was sorry to see him come, for I knew Brown would have no pity on him. Brown began, straightway:
“Here! Why didn’t you tell me we’d got to land at that plantation?”
“I did tell you, Mr. Brown.”
“It’s a lie!”
I said:
“You lie, yourself. He did tell you.”
Brown glared at me in unaffected surprise; and for as much as a moment he was entirely speechless; then he shouted to me:
“I’ll attend to your case in a half a minute!” then to Henry, “And you leave the pilothouse; out with you!”
It was pilot law, and must be obeyed. The boy started out, and even had his foot on the upper step outside the door, when Brown, with a sudden access of fury, picked up a ten-pound lump of coal and sprang after him; but I was between, with a heavy stool, and I hit Brown a good honest blow which stretched him out.
I had committed the crime of crimes—I had lifted my hand against a pilot on duty! I supposed I was booked for the penitentiary sure, and couldn’t be booked any surer if I went on and squared my long account with this person while I had the chance; consequently I stuck to him and pounded