Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/The Midshipmite

by Clarence Hawkes

THE MIDSHIPMITE

Ah yes my lads, 'was long ago,
 It seems an age to me,
Since good ship Victor spread her sails
 And then put out to sea.

She was as staunch and true a ship
 As ever sailed the main,
She'd hold her own on any sea,
 In wind or hurricane.

And all our crew were stalwart men
 As ever walked a deck,
Our mate had sailed in unknown seas
 And outlived many a wreck.

Our captain was a sailor born
 And well he kept his log,
Yet had one fault, one grievous sin,
 He guzzled too much grog.

But not of these I tell my tale,
 'Tis of the midshipmite,
He was the joy of all the ship
 Our solace and delight.

His eyes were blue as any sea,
 His cheeks were like the dawn,
And fair his shock of flaxen hair
 As wind e'er blew upon.

He was an orphan and a waif,
 Yet happy as a king,
And it was music to my soul
 To hear him laugh and sing.

The winds were fair and all went well
 Until we struck a sea
Along the low Australian coast,
 In latitude twenty-three.

Where not a ripple stirred the brine
 Or e'en a sail would fill,
Where all was brazen overhead
 And all was deathly still.

Three dreary days we sweltered there
 Beneath that sky of brass,
Three weary days we floated there
 Upon that sea of glass.

Then suddenly from out the south
 There grew a tiny speck,
"Haul in your canvas," roared the mate,
 "Or we shall be a wreck!"

Old sailors sprang upon the yards
 And quickly shortened sail,
And in a breath the vessel stood
 Trimmed ready for the gale.

The typhoon struck us full astern,
 Stout masts bent down like reeds,
She rose and fell, then rose again
 To meet old ocean's steeds.

In serried ranks they charged her deck,
 They drenched the scattered crew,
And lower still the mastheads bent
 As still the tempest grew.

But good ship Victor laughed to scorn
 The winds that blew so free,
And raised her crest above the waves
 And bounded o'er the sea.

Then staggering upward from below
 Our drunken captain came,
His bloodshot eyes seemed filled with fire,
 His swarthy cheeks aflame.

"What means this coward crew!" he cried,
 "What! fear you such a gale?
All hands aloft upon the yards
 And set the topmost sail.

What then my lads, you will not go?"
 The frenzied captain cried,
"'ll teach this crew to disobey—
 Bring out my old rawhide!"

The middy stood bewildered there
 Uncertain what to do,
He saw the captain's sullen glare,
 The darkly frowning crew;

He saw the snow white canvas gleam
 Upon each straining mast,
He heard the beating of his heart
 Above the howling blast.

Then like a hound the captain sprang,
 And forward sprang the mate
To snatch the middy from his grasp—
 Ah God! too late! too late!

He seized him fiercely by the throat—
 My blood ran cold in me,
Then hurled him far across the deck
 Into the raging sea.

A wild, wild cry, like a sea gull's scream,
 Fell sharply on the air,
And a stifled groan from man to man
 Went upward like a prayer.

No boat could live in such a sea,
 No hand but God's could save,
He rose upon the billow's crest,
 Then sank beneath the wave.

A moment more and far away
 I saw him rise and dip,
And when the midshipmite went down
 He beckoned to the ship.

We never saw the lad again
 Or heard his merry song,
And all our hearts were filled with grief
 And all the ship seemed wrong.

But in the watches of the night
 Our wretched captain swore
He heard the middy's cry for help
 Above the deafening roar.

And when the morning came again
 With breeze and balmy air,
He saw his form upon the waves;
 His hand still beckoned there.

Thus wore the weary voyage on
 Until we entered port,
With changing winds and fickle seas
 And all things out of sort.

We lay in port a weary week
 And then put out to sea,
The middy followed in our wake,
 All was adversity.

The winds blew east the winds blew west
 They then blew north and south,
The sea was smooth the sea was rough,
 And it ope'd its yawning mouth.

We shifted sail and tacked and turned
 To please the powers that be,
Until we reached that selfsame coast
 In latitude twenty-three.

And there we hung upon that sea
 As we had done before,
As lifeless as a phantom ship
 Beside a phantom shore.

Then once again there came a speck
 From out the brazen south,
And once again his steeds rose up
 When Neptune blew his breath.

We did not hear the demon come,
 It came with noiseless feet,
Until the sea about the ship
 Was all one boiling sheet.

Until the tempest struck the ship
 And stripped her of her sails,
Until the monsters of the deep
 Were pouring o'er our rails.

We tried to keep her to the wind—
 She would not mind her wheel,
The billows tossed her bow about
 And made her rock and reel.

Still louder and still louder grew
 The tempest's mighty roar,
And all that time our helpless ship
 Swept onward toward the shore.

"It is the lad!" our captain cried,
 "That stirs this angry sea,
I see his hand above the mast,
 It beckons unto me."

We heard the breakers on the shore
 Above the howling gale,
And fearless hearts grew cold with fear,
 And swarthy cheeks grew pale.

Swift as a mountain avalanche,
 Dread messenger of grief,
Our good ship skimmed the rushing seas
 And struck upon the reef.

And where she struck the breakers lay
 Like snow-fields, but alas!
Beneath their foam were jagged rocks—
 Her hull broke up like glass.

Her tall masts fell like broken reeds
 Into the boiling brine,
And hull and bar and canvas lay
 Along the dread snow line.

Half stunned and bleeding, on a spar,
 With knotted ropes made fast,
Made sport of by the cruel waves,
 Derided by the blast,

I tossed upon the angry sea
 Until its wrath was gone,
At morn it left me on the strand,
 Half naked and alone.

I saw the wreck along the shore
 By mighty billows rolled,
I saw her timbers on the sand,
 Amid the slime and mold.

And in the pauses of the blast,
 The breakers seemed to say,
"Vengeance is mine," Jehovah saith,
 "I surely will repay."