"Nordhoff, Charles & Hall, James Norman - Bounty 02 - Men Against the Sea 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hall James)

"Hush!" said the captain, looking down at us.

The little tern passed overhead once more, set his wings, and slanted down in the direction of the bow. Next moment I heard a feeble shout go up from the people, and the sound of fluttering wings.

"Good lad!" said Bligh to the man forward. "Don't wring his neck!"

I managed to pull myself up to a sitting position while they were passing a wineglass to Smith, who held the bird while Hall cut its throat, allowing the blood to flow into the small glass, which was filled nearly to the brim.

"Now pluck him," said Bligh, while the glass was being handed aft. He motioned the midshipmen to help Nelson to sit up. "For you, Mr. Nelson," he went on, giving Tinkler the glassful of blood.

Nelson smiled and shook his head. "Lamb and Simpson need it more than I. Give it to them."

"I order you to drink the blood," said Bligh, with a smile that robbed the words of sternness. . . . "Mr. Hayward, hold the glass for Mr. Nelson while he drinks."

The botanist closed his eyes and took the blood with a slight grimace, raising a trembling hand to wipe his lips. The youngsters made him as comfortable as they could by propping his back against the thwart.

Fryer was at the tiller. The plucked noddy, no larger than a small pigeon, was now handed to Mr. Bligh, who laid it on the carpenter's chest, took a knife from his pocket, and divided the bird into eighteen portions. It was done with the utmost possible fairness, though a sixth portion of the breast was preferable to one of the feet, and I should have preferred the neck to the head and beak.

"Come aft, Mr. Peckover," said the captain. . . . "Face forward, Mr. Cole, and call out when Mr. Peckover gives the word."

The boatswain turned so that he was unable to see what went on. Peckover looked over the shares of raw bird and took up a choice bit of the breast.

"Who shall have this ?" he called. "Mr. Bligh!" replied Cole.

"No! No!" the captain interrupted. "There must be no precedence here, Mr. Cole: you will begin with anyone's name, at random. Should we catch another bird, the order must be changed. The purpose of this old custom is to be fair to all."

Peckover laid down the bit of breast and took up a wing. "Who shall have this?" "Peter Lenkletter!"

The wing was handed to the quartermaster. When Bligh's turn came, he was so unfortunate as to get a foot with nothing on it but the web, and a shred or two of sinew where it had been disjointed, but he gnawed this miserable portion with every appearance of relish, and threw away nothing but the barest bones. The head and beak fell to me; and it amazes me, as I write, to recollect with what enjoyment I swallowed the eyes, and crunched the little skull between my teeth as I sucked out the raw brains. Small as the amount of nourishment was, I fancied that it brought me an immediate increase of strength. I was happy when Nelson got a rich, red morsel of the breast. He wished to share it with me, and when I refused, he lingered long over it. "The noddy eats well!" he said. "No pheasant at home ever seemed better flavoured!"

Lamb was one of those men who seem born to make the worst of every misfortune; he was unable to sit up, and had scarcely enough strength to complain of the pain in his bowels. When his turn came, he got the other foot; and Cole, who had just received a portion of breast, handed it to him. "Here," he said gruffly. "Ye need this more than me." "Thankee, Mr. Cole, thankee!" said Lamb in a quavering voice as he stuffed the bit of flesh into his mouth.

The weather continued fair throughout the day, with a calm sea and a good sailing breeze at E.N.E. It was fortunate that we were not obliged to bail, for many of us could not have undertaken the task. Our log showed that we were making between four and four and a half knots. During the afternoon we passed bits of driftwood on which the barnacles had not yet gathered, and Elphinstone picked up a bamboo pole, such as the Indians use for fishing rods. It was slimy with the beginnings of marine growth, but could not have been more than two or three weeks in the sea. Purcell took the bamboo, dried and cleaned it, sawed off the ends square, and set to fitting and seizing a worn-out file into the large end, to make a spear for fish. Toward evening, a lone booby appeared astern, and circled the boat

I for a long time, as if he desired to alight. We sat in suspense for ten minutes or more. The bird was not unlike our gannets at home, with a body as great as that of a large duck, and a five-foot spread of wings. I held my breath each time his shadow passed over the boat; I could hear Bligh's hearty, whispered curses when the bird came sailing in as if to alight and then slanted away.

At last young Tinkler whispered: "Let me try, sir -- with the bamboo. I've seen the Indians at Otaheite take them so, by breaking their wings."

Bligh nodded. The bird had again turned away. The youngster crept forward, took the spear from Purcell, and stood on a thwart. The booby swung back toward the boat, while Tinkler waved his bamboo back and forth gently. It was strange, as the bird turned back toward the launch, to see how the moving spear aroused his curiosity. He came on with a rapid flap of wings, turning his head to see better, and passed over us very low, though still too high to be reached. Tinkler continued to move the rod gently.

This time the booby did not rise, but turned and headed back. The youngster held the spear with both hands, ready to strike. On came the bird, lower than ever, his wings held rigidly. Tinkler raised the rod to the full extent of his arms, and struck. The blow caught the booby where one of the wings joined the body, and with a grating cry he plunged into the sea.

"Hard up!" shouted Captain Bligh.

For the first time since leaving Tofoa, the boat was turned into the wind. Her sails fluttered as she luffed and lost steerageway; we made a board and came about on the other tack before we were able to pick up the bird.

"Mr. Tinkler," said the captain; "your fishing with the Indians was not wasted time!"

The launch shot up into the wind. Many eager hands went over the gunwale to pick up the wounded bird. Lebogue caught him and tossed him into the boat.