HOW JAMES THE FIRST, TORN FROM THE ARMS OF HIS DYING MOTHER AND CARRIED ABOARD THE “ROXELANE,” BEGAN HIS. CAREER THERE BY PLUCKING FOWLS, AND ENDED BY PLUCKING A PARROT
As soon as possible after the funeral dinner, which was over between seven and eight o’clock, Jadin, whose reading at the last meeting had excited great interest, was asked to continue. Mademoiselle Camargo, in consequence of the nun-like existence she had led for the six months and one day during which she had inhabited the studio, had not been able to inspire either the minds or the hearts of the artist’s friends with any very profound sentiments of esteem or affection. Thierry was the sole one among us with whom she had been on intimate terms; and even their relations had been purely scientific. Thus the regret we felt for her sudden end was of but short duration, and, moreover, was soon effaced by the thought of the great scientific demonstration illustrated by the untimely event. It will thus be readily understood that we returned eagerly to the adventures of our friend James, told as they were by a historian so faithful, conscientious, and ingenious as was Jadin, whose reputation as a painter was already established by his beautiful picture, “The Cows,” and as a historian by his biography of Prince Henry, a work composed with the collaboration of M. Dauzats, and which even before its appearance already obtained from all the recognition it deserved. Jadin then, without requiring to be pressed, drew his manuscript from his pocket and began again where he had left off:
The parrot which Captain Pamphile had bought was a cockatoo of the handsomest kind, with a body white as snow, a beak black as ebony, and a crest yellow as saffron, a crest which he raised or lowered according as he was in a good or a bad temper, and which gave him at one time the paternal aspect of a grocer wearing his nightcap, at another the fierce, bellicose appearance of a National Guard with his plumed helmet. Besides these natural physical advantages, Catacwa had many accomplishments; he spoke with equal facility English, Spanish, and French, sang “God save the King “like Lord Wellington, the “Pensativo estaba el Cid “like Don Carlos, and the “Marseillaise “like General Lafayette. One can understand that with such a talent for languages he was not slow, after falling among the crew of the “Roxelane,” in extending the circle of his acquirements; so much so that by the time that, after about eight days’ sail,-he caught sight of the Island of St. Helena, he began to swear with great skill and propriety in Provençal, thus rejoicing greatly the heart of Captain Pamphile, who, like the Troubadours of old, spoke only the Langue d’Oc.
Thus, when, coming on deck after his night’s rest Captain Pamphile had completed his inspection of the vessel, seen that each man and each thing was in its proper place, superintended the issue of grog to the sailors and of rope’s end to the boys; when he had gazed at the sky, studied the sea and whistled to the wind, when at last he had arrived at that tranquil frame of mind which follows on the consciousness of duty done, he would stroll forward to Catacwa, followed by James, who grew visibly from day to day, and who shared with his feathered rival all the Captain’s affection, and give the bird a lesson in Provençal. At the end of the lesson, if the pupil pleased him, he would put a piece of sugar between the bars of the cage, a reward which Catacwa seemed to value highly, and of which James was very jealous. So, directly the Captain’s attention was diverted by some chance or other, James would steal up to the cage and manage so well that usually the piece of sugar passed into his keeping, and Catacwa, one claw uplifted, and his crest bristling with rage, would fill the air with his most formidable shrieks and his most bloodcurdling oaths. As for James himself, he would stroll about with an innocent air near the cage where the bereft bird was screaming with anger, concealing the booty he had not time to munch in the pouch of his cheeks, so that it melted gently, while he scratched his ribs and half closed his eyes in saintly meditation. Thus the only punishment of his theft was that he was obliged to drink his sugar instead of eating it.
It is obvious that this violation of the rights of property could be anything but agreeable to Catacwa, and as soon as Captain Pamphile returned to him he would launch out his whole vocabulary of talk. Unfortunately, none of his tutors, past or present, had taught him to cry “Stop, thief!” or its equivalent. So his master took this volley of words, which was really a denunciation in form of the robber, for a simple expression of welcome to himself, and thinking he had enjoyed his dessert, he would just scratch his poll with one finger. This pleased Catacwa to a certain extent, but undoubtedly less so than the lump” of sugar in dispute would have done. Catacwa then came to the conclusion that he must look to himself, only, if he wished to have his revenge. So, one day, when James, having stolen the lump of sugar, put his hand back into the cage to gather up the broken pieces, Catacwa swung himself head downwards by the foot, and, pretending to be solely absorbed in this gymnastic exercise, suddenly got hold of James’s thumb and bit it to the bone. James gave a piercing yell, jumped into the rigging, and climbed as high as wood and hemp would carry him. At last when the main truck stopped his upward progress he stayed there, holding on to the mast with three of his paws, while he waved the fourth about as if he were sprinkling holy water on the faithful.
When dinner time came, Captain Pamphile whistled for James. But James did not answer; this silence was so contrary to his usual rules as to diet, that Captain Pamphile became uneasy about him and whistled again. This time he heard a sort of murmur coming down from the clouds, and raising his eyes he saw James waving his benediction to all on land or sea.
Upon this he and James exchanged signals, with the result that the latter was understood to refuse flatly to come down. Captain Pamphile, who had trained his crew to habits of absolute obedience, and was not going to allow his system of discipline to be broken by an ape, took the speaking trumpet and bellowed, “Double-Bouche! “The individual addressed appeared forthwith, climbing the kitchen ladder backwards and sidled towards the Captain much like a dog who expects a beating from his keeper. Captain Pamphile, who never wasted words with his inferiors, showed the boy the rebel sitting grimacing on the main-top-gallant mast.
Double-Bouche grasped what was required of him at once, sprang up the ratlines, and began to climb the top-mast shrouds with agility, showing that in honouring Double-Bouche with this hazardous mission, Captain Pamphile had made a most excellent choice.
Another consideration, which was determined, I will not say, by his knowledge of James’s affections, but by that of James’s appetite, largely influenced the selection made by Captain Pamphile. Double-Bouche was employed chiefly in the kitchen, where his talents were appreciated by all the ship’s company, and by none more so than by James, who had a special liking for that part of the vessel. He was then bound with the strands of sympathy to the personage whom we have just introduced to the reader, and who owed the expressive nickname of “Double-Bouche,” which had replaced his patronymic on board the “Roxelane,” to the facilities his post afforded him for dining before the rest, without prejudice to his right to dine again after them. James then understood Double-Bouche and Double-Bouche understood James, and the consequence of this mutual appreciation was that on this occasion James, instead of attempting to escape, as he would have done from anyone else, came down part of the way, and the two friends met on the main-top-gallant-yard. They descended at once, one carrying the other, to the poop, where Captain Pamphile stood waiting for them.
Captain Pamphile had only one cure for wounds, of whatever kind they might be; this was a compress of brandy, arrack, or rum. He therefore soaked a rag in spirits and wrapped it round the wounded finger. When the alcohol first came into contact with the raw flesh, James started pulling a very wry face; but noticing that while the Captain turned his back, Double-Bouche quickly swallowed the dregs of the liquor from the glass in which the bandage had been dipped, the thought struck him, that however painful it might be as a dressing for a wound, it might prove beneficial if taken internally, So he put the tip of his tongue to the rag, then licked it, and, finally, as the taste grew on him, put his thumb into his mouth and sucked it. As Captain Pamphile had given orders that the bandage was to be kept wet by dipping it in the brandy every ten minutes, and as his orders were punctually carried out, in two hours or so James began to blink his eyes and waggle his head in a very queer fashion. The longer the treatment lasted, the fonder grew James of the remedy, and he ended by falling dead drunk into the arms of Double-Bouche, who took the patient down below and put him to bed in his own berth.
James slept for twelve hours without a move, and when he opened his eyes, the first thing that met them was the sight of his friend Double-Bouche plucking a fowl. This was no new sight for James; nevertheless it seemed this time to claim his particular attention. He got up quietly, and crept near, his eyes fixed on the operation, and remained motionless and preoccupied the whole time it lasted. When the fowl was plucked, James, who felt his head still a trifle heavy, went on deck for a breath of fresh air.
The wind remained fair the next day, so that Captain Pamphile, seeing all going well with the voyage, thought it unnecessary to husband his resources, and moreover he did not want to carry his poultry into Marseilles, not having bought them as a speculation. So he gave the order, on account of his health he said, that roast or boiled poultry should be on his table every day, in addition to his accustomed cut of hippopotamus and his bouillabaisse. Five minutes after the order was given, the quack of a duck, whose throat was being cut, was heard.
At this sound James slid down from his seat on the main-yard so quickly that a person ignorant of his egotistical character would have thought he was going to the rescue of the victim, and rushed into the cook’s galley. There he found Double-Bouche fulfilling conscientiously his duty of cook’s mate, so well that he did not leave so much as a bit of down on the bird’s skin. This time, as before, James seemed to take the greatest interest in the operation; then, when it was finished, he went up on deck, and, for the first time since his accident, he drew near Catacwa’s cage and walked round it several times, carefully avoiding coming within reach of the parrot’s beak. Then, when at last he saw an opportunity, he made a grab at one of his tail feathers, and pulled so hard that, despite the flapping of Catacwa’s wings and the oaths he swore, the quill came out in his hand. This experiment, of but little apparent importance at first sight, seemed to delight James beyond measure, for he executed a dance on all fours, springing up and down on the same ground, which was his way of expressing the liveliest feelings of supreme satisfaction.
In the meanwhile land was far out of sight, and the vessel ploughing the broad Atlantic with every sail set. All around was sea and sky and empty space stretching away to the far distant horizon. From time to time a sea-bird with wide-stretched wings would be seen in the far distance, on its long journey from continent to continent, but nothing else. Then Captain Pamphile, trusting that instinct would teach Catacwa that her wings were unequal to the task of carrying her to land, opened his prisoner’s cage and gave her complete freedom to fly about the rigging. Catacwa instantly profited by this liberty to get up to the top-gallant-mast and, ravished with joy at her exaltation, she rattled off to the great satisfaction of the ship’s company, all her choicest sayings in turn, making more noise by herself than did the five-and-twenty sailors who were watching her.
While this scene was going on above decks a different drama was being performed below. James, as was his custom, went to see Double-Bouche while the poultry was being plucked; but this time the boy, who had noticed how he had been watched at work, thought he had discovered in his comrade a vocation for the post he himself held. A happy thought struck Double-Bouche, which was to employ James henceforth in plucking his fowls and ducks, while he, changing places, folded his arms and looked on. Double-Bouche had one of those decided characters the possessors of which leave scarcely any interval between the inception and the execution of an idea, so he went and closed the door gently, picked up, as if by chance, a whip, which he stuck into the waist of his breeches, taking care to leave the handle showing, and, coming back to James, put into his hands the duck which it was his own proper task to pluck. At the same time he pointed with his forefinger at the end of the whip, which he intended employing as arbiter in case of dispute.
But James never even gave him the chance of calling in this third party. Either Double-Bouche had guessed rightly, or the new accomplishment which he put James in the way of acquiring appeared to the latter as the necessary complement to all good education. Whichever was the reason, James took the duck between his knees as he had seen his instructor do and set to work at the task with such ardour that Double-Bouche had no further need to interfere. Towards the end, as he saw the feathers give place to down, and the down to bare flesh, the energy he displayed amounted to enthusiasm.; so far did it carry him that on the complete termination of the work James set to work at his triumphal dance, just as he had done the evening before by the side of Catacwa’s cage. For his part Double-Bouche was in ecstasy; he had only one thing to reproach himself with, which was that he had not profited at an earlier date by the goodwill of his acolyte; but he promised himself that he would not let his ardour cool for want of practice. So on the morrow, at the same time and place, with similar precautions, he began the second rehearsal of yesterday’s play. It was as successful as the first. Thus the third day Double-Bouche, recognizing James as his equal, tied his cook’s apron round his waist, and gave him over entire charge of turkeys, fowls, and ducks. James showed himself more than worthy of this confidence, for at the end of a week he had left his professor far behind him both in quickness and dexterity.
As this went on, the brig sailed like an enchanted ship. She had passed by James’s native land, left out of sight St. Helena and Ascension on her starboard beam, and was nearing the equator under full sail. It was one of those days when in the tropics the sky seems to press down on the earth; the man at the helm was at his post, the look out in the foretop, and Catacwa on the topgallant-mast. As for the remainder of the ship’s company, each man tried to breathe fresh air, wherever it seemed most likely to be obtained, while Captain Pamphile himself, lying in his hammock and smoking his long pipe, had himself fanned by Double-Bouche with a peacock’s tail. This day, strange to say, James, instead of picking his fowl, put it untouched on a chair, took off his kitchen apron, and appeared either, like everybody else, overcome by the heat, or lost in his own thoughts. But this reaction was but of short duration. First he looked all around with quick and intelligent glances; then, as if frightened at his own audacity, he picked up a feather, put it to his mouth, and threw it aside with a gesture of indifference. Then he began scratching his sides and blinking his eyes. After a moment, with a little jump, which the closest observer would have thought quite purposeless, he got on the first step of the ladder, stopped a moment to look at the sun through the hatchway, and then began to ascend nonchalantly to the upper deck, somewhat like a lounger who, for want of something better to do, strolls out on the Boulevard des Italiens.
On reaching the top step, James saw that the deck was quite abandoned; the brig might have been a derelict floating about at the mercy of the winds and waves. The solitude seemed to suit James exactly — he scratched his side, chattered with his teeth, winked, and did two of his perpendicular dancing steps, keeping a good look out all the time for Catacwa, who, he saw, was in her ordinary place flapping her wings and singing at the top of her voice, “God save the King.” Then James instantly pretended to look the other way. He climbed slowly up the shrouds as far as possible from the mizen-mast, on the top of which the enemy was perched, gained the yards, stopped for a moment in the top-mast shrouds, climbed the fore-top-mast, and finally ventured on the mizen-top-mast stay. In the middle of this trembling bridge he hung himself, head downwards, by the tail, letting go altogether with his paws, and seeming as if he had gone up solely for the pleasure of enjoying a swing. Then, satisfied that Catacwa was not noticing him, he quietly approached her, always looking the other way, and, at the moment when his rival was at the very highest point of her song and pleasure, shouting at the top of her voice and flapping her wings like a coachman warming his arms on a wintry day, James rudely broke in on her triumphant song by seizing her in his left hand so as to pin her wings together behind her. Catacwa screeched for help; but no one heard or answered, so overcome was the entire ship’s company by the stifling heat which the perpendicular sun shed from the zenith.
“Heaven above!” ejaculated suddenly Captain Pamphile, “here is a strange phenomenon! snow at the Equator!”
“No!” said Double-Bouche, “it is not quite like snow; it is... Oh! my eye! it is...” and he made a dash at the ladder.
“Well, what the devil is it?” cried Captain Pamphile, sitting up in his hammock.
“What is it?” cried Double-Bouche from the top of his ladder. “It is James picking Catacwa’s feathers!”
Captain Pamphile roused the echoes of his ship with some of the most tremendous oaths that had ever been heard at the Equator, and ran on deck himself, while the whole crew, startled out of sleep as if the powder magazine had blown up, tumbled up by every gangway the brig possessed.
“Now you young lubber!” shouted Captain Pamphile, seizing a belaying pin, and addressing Double-Bouche, “what are you gaping at? Quick, stir yourself.”
Double-Bouche sprang at the rigging, and ran up like a squirrel, but the quicker he climbed, the quicker worked James; Catacwa’s feathers flew in clouds, and fell like snowflakes in December. Catacwa, seeing Double-Blouche nearing them, redoubled her screams; but just as her rescuer extended his arms, James, who till then, had seemed to notice nothing of the commotion below, judged that his daily task was successfully accomplished, and let go his enemy, who had nothing but her wing feathers left. Catacwa, beside herself with pain and fear, forgot that the balance of her tail feathers was wanting, fluttered for a few seconds in an aimless fashion, and ended her grotesque movements by falling into the sea, where, her feet not being webbed, she was drowned.
“Flers,” said Decamps, interrupting the speaker, “you have a fine voice; call down to the portière s little girl to bring some more cream; the jug is empty.”