The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-11-27
The Devil . . ].
. . and the -.
Deep Sea. evpvAes By n,p.,no.
RUDYARD KIPLIN0.
lCopyrisht. lseA By the Author.]

too much Of what they met. but pol
ished and .tallowed and scraped 1t to
a false brilliancy.
"A lick of paint would make me
easier In my mind" said Mr.. Wardrop.
plaintively. II know half the condens-
er-tubes are started: and the propeller
shaftin's Cod knows low far out Of
the true. and wen need q new air.
pump. an the main-stcam leaks like
a sieve. but-Daint's like clothes to a
man, an ours is near all gone"
The skipper unearthed some stale
ropy paint of the loathsome green that
they used for the insides Of sailing
ships. and Mr.. Wardrop spread 1t abroad
lavishly to give the engines s%elf-respect.
His W was returning day by day,
Tor he wore his lion-cloth continuously;
but the crew having worked under or
ders did not feel as he did: the COM
pleted work satisfied Mr.. Wardrop. He
would at the last have made shift to
run to Singapore, and gon home with
out vengeance taken, but the others and
the captain forbade him. They had not
yet recovered their self-respect.
1T would be safer to make what ye
might call a trial trip, but beggars
mustn't be choosers, IN If the engines
abiity-Im only saying it's a proba-
bility.-the chance Is that they'll hold
up when we put steam on her"
How long will you take to get
steam?" asked the skipper.
God knows! Four hours-a day
half a week. II I can raise sixty pounds
I'll not complain"
b sure of her first: we can't afford
to go out half a mile and break down"
said the skipper.
MY soul and body. man. we're one
continuous breakdown fore and aft!
we might fetch Singapore, though"
wen break down at Pygang-Watai
where we can do good" was the an
swer, In a voice that did not allow argu-
ment, Shes my boat, and-I've had
eight months to think in"
mo man saw the Haliotis depart.
though many heard of her. She left at
W IN the morning. having cut her
moorings. and 1t was zone of her crews
pleasure that the engines should strike
up a numbering half-seas-over chanty
that echoed among the hills. Mr.. War
drop wiped away, a tear as he listened
to the new song.
Shes gibberin'.-she's just gibber-
M he whimpered. It's the voice of
a maniac
And If the engines have any soul. as
their masters believe, he was quite
right. There were outcries and clam
ors, sobs and bursts of c%hattering
laughter, silences where the trained ear
yearned for The clear note and tortur-
ing reduplications where there should
have been one deep voice. Down the
screw shaft ran murmur and warn
ings, while n heart-diseased flutter
without told that the propeller needed
%rekeying.
How does she make it?" said the
skipper.
"She moves, but-she's breaking my
heart. The sooner we're at Pygang-
Watai the better. She's mad, and we're
waking the town."
rs h at all near safe?"
What do I ARE how safe she is?
She's mad. Hear that, now! To be
the bearin's are fairly cool, but-can
we hear?"
IF she goes" said the skipper, IT
don't care a cure. and she's my boat,
too"
She went trailing a fathom Of weed
behind her. From a slow two knots
an hour h crawled up to a triumphant
Anything beyond that made the
struts culver dangerously and filled she
engine room with steam. Morning
showed her out of sight Of land, and
there was n visible ripple under her
bows; but she complained bitterly in
her bowels. and, a. though the noise
had called 1t. there shot along across
the level sea a swift. dark prau, hawk
like and curious. which presently
ranged alongside end hailed. wished to
know II the Haliotis were helpless.
Ships, even the steamers of the white
men, had been known to break down in
those seas. and the honest Malay and
Javanese traders would sometimes aid
them in their own peculiar way. But
this ship was not full of lady passengers
and well-dressed officers. Men, white
men, naked and savage, swarmed down