The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1915-03-26
CHAPTER XVI

IA Wolf Larsen took the distribu-
Ition Of whisky off my hands, and
the bottles began to make their
appearance while ! worked over
the fresh batch of wounded men
Fin the forecastle. ! had seen
whisky drunk, such as whisky
iand soda by the men of the clubs,
but never as these men drank 1t,
from pannikins and mugs, and
Ifrom the bottles--great brim-
lining drinks, each one Of which
was In itself a debauch. But
Ethey did not stop at one or two.
They drank and drank, and ever
the bottles slipped forward and
fthey drank more. ag
L Everybody drank; the wounded
drank; Oofty-Oofty, who helped
me, drank. Only Louis refrain
ca. no more than cautiously wet
ting his lips with the liquor,
though he Joined In the revels
with all abandon equal to that
OF most OF them. IL was a
saturnalia. In loud voices they
shouted over the days fighting.
wrangled about the details. or
waxed affectionate and made
friends with the men whom they
had fought. Prisoners and cap
tors hiccoughed on one another's
shoulders, and swore mighty
oaths of respect and esteem.
They wept over the miseries OF
the past and over the miseries
vet to come under the iron. rule
of Wolf Larsen. And all cursed
him and told terrible tales OF
his brutality.
1t was a strange and frightful
spectacle the small, bunk-lined
space, the floor and walls leap
ing and lurching, the dim light,
the swaying shadows lengthen-
ing and foreshortening mon
strously, the thick air heavy with
smoke and the smell of bodies
and iodoform, and the inflamed
faces of the men-half-men, !
should call them. noted
Oofty-Oofty, holding the end OF
a bandage and looking upon the
scene, his velvety and luminous
eyes glistening In the light ike
a deer's eyes, and yet ] knew the
barbaric devil that lurked In his
breast and belied all the softness
land tenderness, almost womaniy,
of his face and form. And no.
ticed the boyish face OF Harrison,
"a good face once, but now a
demon's,-convulsed with passion
as he told the newcomers OF the
hell-ship they were In and
shrieked curses upon the head OF
Wolf Larsen.
Wolf Larsen It was, always
Wolf Larsen, enslaver and tor
mentor of men, a male Gree and
tnese his swine, suffering brntes
that groveled before him and
revolted only in drunkenness and
in secrecy. And was ], too, one
of his swine? / thought. And
Maud Brewster? No! / ground
my teeth in my anger and deter
mination till the man 1 was at
tending WINGED under my hand
and Oofty-0ofty looked at me
with curiosity. ] felt endowed
with a sudden strength. What of
my new-found love, l was q
giant. l feared nothing. ]
would work my will through 1t
all in spite of Wolf Larsen and
of my own thirty-five bookish
years. All would be well. 1
would make It we'll. And so,
altered, upborne by sense of pow
er, I turned my back on the howl
ling inferno and climbed to the
deck, where the fog drifted
ghostly through the night and
the air was sweet and pure and
quiet.
The steerage. where we're two
wounded hunters, was repeti-
ton Of the forecastle, except that
Wolf Larsen was not being
cursed; and 1t was with a great
relief that | again emerged on
deck and went aft to the cabin.
Supper was ready, and Wolf Lar
sen and Maud were waiting for
me.
While all his ship was getting
drunk as fast as 1t could, he re-
NAMED sober. Not a drop of
liquor passed his lips. He did not
n 4. II 80. <...x~