A Man to His Mate Page 12

  CHAPTER XII

  DEMING BREAKS AN ARM

  Rainey, dozing in his bunk, going over the sudden happenings of the day,had placed Carlsen's automatic under his pillow after loading it. Hefound that it lacked four shells of full capacity, the two that Lund hadfired at his bottle target, the one fired by Carlsen at Rainey, and thelast ineffective shot at Lund, a shot that went astray, Rainey decided,largely through Lund's _coup-de-theatre_ of tearing off his glasses andflinging them at the doctor.

  The dynamo that he had idly fancied he could hear purring away inside ofLund was apparent with vengeance now, driving with full force. That waswhat Lund would be from now on, a driver, imperative, relentless,overcoming all obstacles; as he had himself said, selfish at heart, keenfor his own ends.

  Rainey was neither a weakling nor a coward, but he shrank from openencounter with Lund, and knew himself, without fear, the weaker man. Thechallenge of Lund, splendidly daring any one of them to come out againsthim alone, and challenging them _en masse_, had found in Rainey anacknowledgment of inferiority that was not merely physical.

  Lund knew far more than he did about the class of men that made up theinhabitants of the _Karluk_. Rainey had once fondly hugged the delusionthat he knew something of the nature of those who "went down to the seain ships."

  Now he knew that his ignorance was colossal. Such men were not complex,they moved by instinct rather than reason, they were not guided byconscience, the values of right and wrong were not intuitive with them,muscle rather than mind ruled their universe.

  Yet Rainey could not solve them, and Lund knew them as one may know afavorite book.

  Lund had brains, cunning, brute force that commanded a respect not allbred of being weaker. In a way he was magnificent. And Rainey vaguelyheralded trouble when Captain Simms was at last given to the deep. Hefelt certain that the hunters under Deming were hatching something but,in the main, his mental prophecy of trouble coming was connected withthe girl.

  Lund had shown no disrespect to her, rather the opposite. But the girlshowed hatred of Lund and, in minor measure, of Rainey. Some of thiswould die out, naturally. Rainey intended to attempt an adjustment inhis own behalf. But he held the feeling that Lund would not toleratethis hatred against him on the part of the girl. Such scorn would arousesomething in the giant's nature, something that would either strikeunder the lash, or laugh at it.

  Dimly, Rainey saw these things as the giant gropings of sex, not as hehad known it, surrounded by conventionalities, by courtesies oftwentieth-century veneering, but a law, primitive, irresistible,sweeping away barriers and opposition, a thing bigger even than the lustof gold; the lure of woman for man, and man for woman.

  Both Lund and the girl, he felt, would have this thing in greatermeasure than he would. He shared his life with too many things, withbooks, with amusements, with the social ping-pong of the level in whichhe ordinarily moved.

  There had been once a girl, perhaps there still was a girl, whom Raineyhad known on a visit to the camp-palace of a lumber king, high in theSierras, a girl who rode and hunted and lived out-of-doors, and yetdanced gloriously, sang, sewed and was both feminine and masculine, amaddening latter-day Diana, who had swept Rainey off his feet for thetime.

  But he had known that he was not up to her standards, that he was but apaper-worm, aside from his lack of means. That latter detail would, heknew, have bothered him far more than her. But she announced openly thatshe would only mate with a man who had lived. He rather fancied that ithad been a challenge--one he had not taken up. The matrix of his ownlife just then was too snug a bed. Well, he was living now, he toldhimself.

  On the border of dreams he was brought back by a strange noise on deck,a rush of feet, many voices, and topping them all, the bellow of Lund,roaring, not for help, but in challenge.

  Rainey, half asleep, jumped from his bunk and rushed out of the room. Hehad no doubt as to what had happened; the hunters had attacked Lund!And, unused to the possession of firearms, still drowsy, he forgot theautomatic, intent upon rallying to the cry of the giant. As he made forthe companionway, the girl came out of her father's room.

  "What is it?" she cried.

  "Lund--hunters!" Rainey called back as he sped up the stairs. He thoughthe heard a "wait" from her, but the stamping and yelling were loud inhis ears, and he plunged out on deck. As he emerged he saw the stolidface of Hansen at the wheel, his pale blue eyes glancing at the set ofhis canvas and then taking on a glint as they turned amidships.

  Lund looked like a bear surrounded by the dog-pack. He stood uprightwhile the six hunters tore and smashed at him. Two had caught him by themiddle, one from the front and one from the rear, and, as the fightraged back and forth, they were swung off their feet, bludgeoned andkicked by Lund to stop them getting at the gun in its holster slungunder his coat close to his armpit.

  Lund's arms swung like clubs, his great hands plucked at their holds,while he roared volleys of deep-sea, defiant oaths, shaking or strikingoff a man now and then, who charged back snarlingly to the attack.

  Brief though the fight had been when Rainey arrived, there was ampleevidence of it. Clothes were torn and faces bloody, and already the menwere panting as Lund dragged them here and there, flailing, striking,half-smothered, but always coming up from under, like a rock thatemerges from the bursting of a heavy wave.

  And the voice of the combat, grunts and snarls, gasping shouts andbroken curses, was the sound of ravening beasts. So far as Rainey couldvision in one swift moment before he ran forward, no knives were beingused.

  A hunter lunged out heavily and confidently to meet him as the othersgot Lund to his knees for a fateful moment, piling on top of him,bludgeoning blows with guttural cries of fancied victory.

  Rainey's man struck, and the strength of his arm, backed by his hurlingweight, broke down Rainey's guard and left the arm numb. The nextinstant they were at close quarters, swinging madly, rife with the onedesire to down the other, to maim, to kill. A blow crashed home onRainey's cheek, sending him back dazed, striking madly, clinching tostop the piston-like smashes of the hunter clutching him, trying totrip him, hammering at the fierce face above him as they both went downand rolled into the scuppers, tearing at each other.

  He felt the man's hands at his throat, gradually squeezing out sense andbreath and strength, and threw up his knee with all his force. It struckthe hunter fairly in the groin, and he heard the man groan with thesudden agony. But he himself was nearly out. The man seemed to fade awayfor the second, the choking fingers relaxed, and Rainey gulped for air.His eyes seemed strained from bulging from their sockets in that fiercegrip, and there was a fog before them through which he could hear theroar of Lund, sounding like a siren blast that told he was stillfighting, still confident.

  Then he saw the hunter's face close to his again, felt the whole weightof the man crushing him, felt the bite of teeth through cloth and flesh,nipping down on his shoulder as the man lay on him, striving to hold himdown until he regained the strength that the blow in the groin hadtemporarily broken down.

  For just a moment Rainey's spirit sagged, his own strength was spent,his will sapped, his lungs flattened. For a moment he wanted to liethere--to quit.

  Then the hunter's body tautened for action, and, at the feel, Rainey'sebbing pride came surging back, and he heaved and twisted, clubbing theother over his kidneys until the roll of the schooner sent themtwisting, tumbling over to the lee once more.

  He felt as if he had been fighting for an hour, yet it had all takenplace during the leap of the _Karluk_ between two long swells that shehad negotiated with a sidelong lurch to the cross seas and wind.

  Rainey came up uppermost. The hunter's head struck the rail heavily. Hisshoulder was free, but he could see ravelings of his coat in the other'steeth. The pain in his shoulder was evident enough, and the sight of thewoolly fragments maddened him. The tactics of boyish fights came backto him, and he broke loose from the arms that hugged him, hitchedforward until he sat on the hunter's ches
t, set a knee on either bicepand battered at the other's face as it twisted from side to sidehelplessly, making a pulp of it, keen to efface all semblance ofhumanity, a brute like the rest of them, intent upon bruising, onblood-letting, on beating all resistance down to a quivering,spirit-broken mass.

  The hunter lay still beneath him at last, his nerve centers shattered bysome blow that had short-circuited them, and Rainey got wearily to hisfeet. The hunter's thumbs had pressed deep on each side of his neck, andhis head felt like wood for heaviness, but shot with pain. The vigor wasout of him. He knew he could not endure another hand-to-hand battle withone of the crowd still raging about Lund, who was on his feet again.

  Rainey saw his face, one red mask of blood and hair, with his agate eyesflaring up with the glory of the fight. He roared no longer, saving hisbreath. Hands clutched for him and fists fell, a man was tugging at eachknee of his legs, set far apart, sturdy as the masts themselves.

  Lund's arm came up, lifting a hunter clean from the deck, shook him offsomehow, and crashed down. One of the men tackling his legs droppedsenseless from the buffet he got on the side of his skull, and Lund'skick sent him scudding across the deck, limp, out of the fight thatcould not last much longer.

  All this came as Rainey, still dazed, helped himself by the skylighttoward the companion, going as fast as he could to get his gun. If hedid not hurry he was certain they would kill Lund. No man couldwithstand those odds much longer.

  And, Lund killed, hell would break loose. It would be his turn next, andthe girl would be left at their mercy. The thought spurred him, clearedhis throbbing head, jarred by the smashes of his still senselessopponent who would be coming to before long.

  Then he saw the girl, standing by the rail, not crouching, as he hadsomehow expected her to be, shutting out the sight of the fight withtrembling hands, but with her face aglow, her eyes shining, watching, asa Roman maid might have watched a gladiatorial combat; thrilled with thespectacle, hands gripping the rail, leaning a little forward.

  She did not notice Rainey as he crept by Hansen, still guiding theschooner, holding her to her course, imperturbable, apparently carelessof the issue. As he staggered down the stairs the line of thought he hadpursued in his bunk, broken by the noise of the fight and hisparticipation, flashed up in his brain.

  This was sex, primitive, predominant! The girl must sense what mighthappen to her if Lund went down. She had no eyes for Rainey, her soulwas up in arms, backing Lund. The shine in her eyes was for the strengthof his prime manhood, matched against the rest, not as a person, anindividual, but as an embodiment of the conquering male.

  He got the gun, and he snatched a drink of brandy that ran through hisveins like quick fire, revivifying him so that he ran up the ladder andcame on deck ready to take a decisive hand.

  But he found it no easy matter to risk a shot in that swirling mass.They all seemed to be arm weary. Blows no longer rose and fell. Lund wasslowly dragging the dead weight of them all toward the mast. The two menon the deck still lay there. Rainey's opponent was trying to get up,wiping clumsily at the blood on his face, blinded.

  The girl still stood by the rail. Back of the wrestling mass stood theseamen, offering to take no part, their arms aswing like apes, theirdull faces working. Tamada stood by the forward companion, his armsfolded, indifferent, neutral.

  Then he saw the girl standing by the rail]

  All this Rainey saw as he circled, while the mass whirled like ateetotum. The action raced like an overtimed kinetoscopic film. A manbroke loose from the scrimmage, on the opposite side from Rainey, whobarely recognized the disheveled figure with the bloody, battered faceas Deming. The hunter had managed to get hold of Lund's gun. Rainey'saim was screened by a sudden lunge of the huddle of men. He saw Lundheave, saw his red face bob up, mouth open, roaring once more, saw hisleg come up in a tremendous kick that caught Deming's outleveling armclose to the elbow, saw the gleam of the gun as it streaked up andoverboard, and Deming staggering back, clutching at his broken limb,cursing with the pain, to bring up against the rail and shout to theseamen:

  "Get into it, you damned cowards! Get into it, and settle him!"

  Even in that instant the sarcasm of the cry of "cowards" struck home toRainey. The next second the girl had jumped by him, a glint of metal inher hand as she brought it out of her blouse. This time she saw him."Come on!" she cried. And darted between the fighters and the stormingfigure of Deming, who tried to grasp her with his one good arm, butfailed.

  Rainey sped after her just as Lund reached the mast. The girl had anickeled pistol in her hand and was threatening the sullen line ofirresolute seamen. Rainey with his gun was not needed. He heard Lundshout out in a triumphant cry and saw him battering at the heads ofthree who still clung to him.

  All through the fight Lund had kept his head, struggling to the purposehe had finally achieved, to reach the mast-rack of belaying pins, seizeone of the hardwood clubs and, with this weapon, beat his assailants tothe deck.

  He stood against the mast, his clothes almost stripped from him, thewhite of his flesh gleaming through the tatters, streaked with blood.Save for his eyes, his face was no longer human, only a mass of flayedflesh and clotted beard. But his eyes were alight with battle and then,as Rainey gazed, they changed. Something of surprise, then of delight,leaped into them, followed by a burning flare that was matched in thoseof the girl who, with Rainey herding back the seamen, had turned atLund's yell of victory.

  Lund took a lurching step forward over the prone bodies of the men onthe deck, that was splotched with blood.

  "By God!" he said slowly, his arms opening, his great fingers outspread,his gaze on the girl, "by God!"

  The girl's face altered. Her eyes grew frightened, cold. The retreatingblood left her cheeks pale, and she wheeled and fled, dodging behindTamada, who gave way to let her pass, his ivory features showing noemotion, closing up the fore companionway as Peggy Simms dived below.

  Lund did not follow her. Instead, he laughed shortly and appeared to seeRainey for the first time.

  "Jumped me, the bunch of 'em!" he said, his chest heaving, his breathcoming in spurts from his laboring lungs. "Couldn't use my gun. But Ilicked 'em. Damn 'em! _Equals?_ Hell!"

  He seemed to have a clear recollection of the fight. He smiled grimly atDeming, who glared at him, nursing his broken arm, then glanced at theman that Rainey had mastered.

  "Did him up, eh? Good for you, matey! You didn't have to use your gun.Jest as well, you might have plugged me. An' the gal had one, afterall."

  He seemed to ruminate on this thought as if it gave him special causefor reflection.

  "Game!" he said. "Game as they make 'em!"

  He surveyed the rueful, groaning combatants with the smile of aconqueror, then turned to the seamen.

  "Here, you!" he roared, and they jumped as if galvanized into life bythe shout. "Chuck a bucket of water over 'em! Chuck water till they gitbelow. Then clean the decks. Off-watch, you're out of this. Below withyou, where you belong. Jump!

  "They all fought fair," he went on. "Not a knife out. Only Deming there,when he knew he was licked, tried to git my gun. Yo're yeller, Deming,"he said, with contempt that was as if he had spat in the hunter's face."I thought you were a better man than the rest. But you've got yores.Git down below an' we'll fix you up."

  He strode over to Hansen, stolid at the wheel.

  "Wal, you wooden-faced squarehead," he said, "which way did you think itwas coming out? Damn me if you didn't play square, though! You kept herup. If you'd liked you could have chucked us all asprawl, an' that wouldhave bin the end of it, with me down. You git a bottle of booze forthat, Hansen, all for yore own Scandinavian belly. Come on, Rainey.Tamada, I want you."

  While Tamada got splints and did what he could for the badly shatteredarm, Lund taunted Deming until the hunter's face was seamed with uselessferocity, like a weasel's in a trap.

  "I wonder you fix him at all, Tamada," he said. "He wanted to cut youout of yore share. Called you a ye
llow-skinned heathen, Tamada. Whatmakes you gentle him that way? You've got him where you want him."

  Tamada, binding up the splints professionally, looked at Deming withjetty eyes that revealed no emotion.

  Lund passed his hand over his face.

  "I'm some mess myself," he said, stretching his great arms. "Give me afive-finger drink, Rainey, afore I clean up. Some scrap. Hell popping ondeck, and a dead man in the cabin! And the gal! Did you see the gal,Rainey?"

  Out of the bloody mask of his face his agate eyes twinkled at Raineywith a sort of good-natured malice. Rainey did not answer as he pouredthe liquor.

  "Make it four finger," exclaimed Lund. "Deming's goin' to faint. One forDoc Tamada."

  The Japanese excused himself, helping Deming, worn out with pain andconsumed by baffled hate, forward through the galley corridor. Then hecame back with warm water in a basin--and towels.

  "After this cheery little fracas," said Lund, mopping at his face,"we'll mebbe have a nice, quiet, genteel sort of ship. My gun wentoverboard, didn't it? Better let me have that one you've got, Rainey."

  He stretched out his hand for it. Rainey delivered it, reluctantly.There was nothing else to do, but he felt more than ever that the_Karluk_ was henceforth to be a one-man ship, run at the will of Lund.

  But the girl, too, had a weapon. He hugged that thought. She carried itfor her own protection, and she would not hesitate to use it. What agirl she was! What a woman rather! A woman who would _mate_--not marryfor the quiet safety of a home. Rainey thought of her as one does of apool that one plumbs with a stone, thinking to find it fairly shallow,only to discover it a gulf with unknown depth and currents, capable ofsmiling placidness or sudden storm.