The Piracy of Black Scotty

HREE blocks away, San Francisco’s streets flared with electric signs, and the heels of commuters, ferry-bound, smote the pavements. Here in the saloon of Lighthouse Tom, surrounded by a score of brawny fellows, a chanty-man leaned back against the bar and sang.

The fishing fleet was back in port from Behring Sea; a French bark that had come by way of the Cape of Good Hope and Australia, had added two or three red-capped sailors to the crowd in the room. A pair of half-caste Portuguese boat-steerers had drifted in, their pockets heavy with whaler’s money earned during two years in the Arctic.

Big men, these, with hard, resolute faces, with loose shirts open above their chests; some wore sheath knives after the old deep-water custom. The chanty-man was swarthy and lean featured; his head was black; his bronzed throat was bare. His voice was rich and full.

The man was singing “Shenandoah”—a windlass chanty that has the dignity of a hymn. The score about him joined in the chorus; it was like the roll of long surges before a roaring wind. As I listened, thrilled with the wild romance and the mystery of the sea, which still clings to those places where her rough children play between voyages, Lighthouse Tom came and sat beside me.

“Iron ships to-day,” said he, “and wooden men. ’Tis not the crew of bullies that onct was. Lad, ye ort to have heard them twenty year ago.”

I told him what was in my thoughts. He chuckled.

“Mystery, ye say; and wild deeds! Is that the name ye give it? Not in that bunch, lad. They’re good enough to man a windlass; and, even at that, donkey engines does it fer them now. I’ve seen the crew in this here room that could of stood their own agin anyone.”

He paused to light his pipe.

“And a-w-a-a-a-y you rolling river,” boomed the chorus.

“Ye should of heard Black Scotty sing that.” Lighthouse Tom looked down the length of the room. The place was thick with smoke from many pipes; into the murk the light glowed yellow.

“Did ever I tell ye how piracy was hatched in this room? No? It was along of this here Black Scotty. He was built on the same lines as that one that is a-singing to-night, and flew the same colors. Black, he was, black as the ace of spades. Highland Scotch, and had run away to sea. A chanty-man; and in them days that meant something.

“Them was the times of long v’yges; and the wind jammers was thick along the docks—the days of deep-sea boarding houses. Lord love ye, lad, why there was a dozen of them places along this street; and as many near by. Shanghai Brown, Mother Martin, The Bells of Shandon, Dublin Lewis’ place, and many others. Them days, it was three months advance—seventy-five dollars and forty dollars ‘blood’ for the, as well. Things was roaring then. I’ve seen a crew shanghaied from one ship to the other without touching a foot on shore. And, when they did land, it was swift work—a bunch of money after six months at sea; a crowd of bullies from Antwerp, Hong Kong or the Lord knows where; and what ye may call a rip roaring time with it all. Then, downed by the drink or mebbe a clout on the head, and wakin’ up outside the Gate, like as not awash in the scuppers.

“Now this Black Scotty, he was main fond of raising his share of hell. There was not a port between here and the Straits settlements—going by way of Port Said—but had some reason to remember him. He was as handy at fighting as he was at singing—a good man with his two fists. And he was quick to do a thing. He did not wait to lay out a course. Ye get me? He was one of them that is always a-taking a chanst. And glad to do it. He slipped his cable fer good, lad, in Mozambique, along of a woman and a Lascar and a knife.

“But I was headed fer piracy. Ye see this Black Scotty had punched his way around the world, and he had sung his way around the world, and, for all that he was pretty sure to end the night in a free fight, old shipmates liked him. Ye had to like him; he had that way with him.

“Let me see; let me see; it was all of twenty year ago, that night. The men is many of them dead now, and what of them is left is old like me. And the Evenin’ Star is a-laying rotting on a mud-bank up on Duwamish River on Puget Sound. Ah, well; the years goes fast when ye are on the tail end.

“It was this way, lad: There was a dozen in the room that night—Red Larson, Boots Leary, Manuel, that froze to death in the Arctic, and Olaf Hansen. I mind them being in the bunch. The Evenin’ Star, she was in port—and she was a-taking on her crew.

“Not that them lads minded the Evenin’ Star, only to keep clear of the runners; that was all. Fer these was able seamen, and could ship with whom they pleased, so long as they did not get drunk and laid by the heels. The Evenin’ Star was a blood ship. She had a history, she had. A good, staunch bark; but she had a skipper that was as bad as they make them; and a mate named Jim White; a bucko mate he was., A regular hell ship; and the name of her was a name to curse by. She never could get a crew, only by shanghaiing a good three-quarters of them. And this here Jim White, he used to tame them as soon as they got to sea.

“How did he do it? Lad, I have not the time to tell ye the tales that has come from the old Evenin’ Star. The last v'y'ge of her, one man tried to cut the skipper’s throat; and another come a-runnin’ aft a-yellin’ and throwed himself over the rail and drowned. Rope’s end was too easy for Jim White; he used his big fists as a joke, and a belayin’ pin was a pleasant argyment fer him to put. So men hated that ship, and, as I said, they had to steal the crew. They'd pay as high as a hundred dollars blood money to the crimps.

“But this crew in my barroom was not a-taking thought of the Evenin’ Star. We was all snug and ship-shape here; and the boardin’ house runner that poked his head in my door—onless he had a name of being fair and above board—would leave the place like a man a-trying fer to fly. So all hands was lying and drinking and what not. Then in comes Black Scotty.

“Many of the bunch had been shipmates to him; and all hands knowed him. So everyone sung out fer him to give us a song, the minute he showed his face. But sing he would not.

“He was roaring mad, Black Scotty was. No’ sooner had he come in than he told us about it, and no sooner had he told us and took a look around fer is man, than he was fer heading out agin. It was this way. He had dropped into the Bells of Shandon, being sober enough to look out fer himself and not caring anyhow, and he had run afoul of a lad in there, a landsman. The two of them had some words. Lord knows what was the trouble. Scotty didn’t remember himself. But the talk got hot and Scotty was fer fighting. Then this lad called him a liar. And it seems like as soon as Scotty got his hands up, the other feller seemed to be struck all in a heap. He just give Scotty a look and whipped around a-making fer the door with all sail on and a fair wind.

“‘Not like he was scared either,’ says Scotty; ‘that’s what made me mad. He was a good chunk of a lad and ready enough fer trouble. But something come over him like, and he up and ’bout ship, and out to the street. I’ve been a-looking fer him ever sence. A liar, he called me, and no man gets away with that.’

“Well, as I said, he was fer looking further; but some of the lads as was his shipmates on the last v’y'ge got him to stop and have a drink; and then he had another.

“‘What manner of man was this?’ says Red Larson.

“‘Bigger than me,’ says Black Scotty, ‘and jist a lad at that. A landsman, he was: and there was Irish in him. I will pull that red head of his off of his shoulders when I fetch up with him.’

“‘Belay there!’ sings out Olaf Hansen; and Black Scotty stopped talking just like I am a-telling you, lad. He stopped with his mouth open, and one fist up in the air. And all of us stood fast and no man said a word.

“Fer the door had opened and a girl was there right amongst us, in the middle of the floor.

“Bareheaded she was, and her hair all ways in the wind that was a-blowing outside. Her face was as white as paper, and her big black eyes was a-blazing like beacons on a clear night. She had throwed herself into the door like some one was arter her; and now she come running towards me. And it took the second look—she was that changed with fright and with the marks of the tears on her cheeks—before I knowed her. ’Twas Nellie Morgan, that lived with her mother next door to the missus and me on Rincon Hill.

“‘Oh, help me, Lighthouse Tom,’ was the hail she give me.

“Well, lad, what with them distress signals she was a-flying, and what with her coming in on us so sudden, right in the middle of Black Scotty’s rough talk that way, I was all struck in a heap. I mind now how it come to me that something might have happened to the missus or the babies. That is the way of a family man. But I made shift to ask her what was wrong.

“‘Larry,’ says she, ‘they nearly killed him. Right before my eyes. And he doing what he could to fight them off.’ She sort of choked and reached out fer to hold herself up by the bar. And then I come back to my senses and, ‘Give her a hand,’ says I to Black Scotty, for he was hard by where she stood. He made shift to stiddy her or she’d have fallen to the floor. And I come out from behind the bar with some liquor; but she was strong agin before I come up alongside of her. And now her lips was tight and she talked like a mate a-giving orders, hard and fast.

“‘Listen,’ says she. ‘I must tell ye; and ye must help me quick. I tried to find a policeman, and could not; and if I had it would of been no good. Larry is shanghaied. Right in front of my eyes they dragged him off, and not this half hour gone. I come here to you, Lighthouse Tom. I knowed ye could help me.’

“‘Shanghaied?’ says I, and I could not believe the words. For this Larry was as handy a lad as ever was raised south of Market—a big young lad; and had been a teamster for three year now. He knowed the city front from Meigs Wharf to India Basin. Ye see, lad, he had been courting Nellie Morgan this long time now. Me and the missus knowed them both. A bit of a rowdy he had been, but he had stiddied down.

“‘Shanghaied,’ says she. ‘At first I thought ’twas thieves. But I saw more, and then I knew.’

“‘Tell me, lass,’ says I.

“‘And oh,’ says she, ‘it was all through fault of mine. We two was to go out to-night to the Chutes. And Larry would have it that I come uptown to meet him. Always he had come after me; but to-night he got off late from work. So we was to meet up on Third Streeet [sic] and take the car. I went there and I waited for him. And he was late.

“It was that made the trouble. I did not like it. Ye mind how Larry used to drink a bit too much at first, and now he does not because of my asking him. And I was afraid it might be that was keeping him—afraid he had mixed up with some of the boys. And when he did come, I smelled the liquor on his breath. It was not that so much—I had not made him stop it altogether—but I was angry-like from the waiting. And one word brought on another. We quarreled. And I told him to go away from me. He started back down Folsom Street towards the city front and I started for home.

“‘But I had only gone a little ways when I felt my heart grow so heavy inside of me that I could stand it no longer. I turned back and tried to catch up with Larry. I hurried down Folsom Street. He was way ahead of me. I saw him and I almost ran.

“‘Down near Stewart Street he was passing an alleyway; and I was not far behind him; and then it happened. I saw them come out from the dark and leap on top of him; and I heard them strike him. And at first I thought it would be robbers, and I was running towards them—for why, I do not know—and I screamed. And then they dragged him away. And I was clost enough now to hear their voices and the words they said; and I knew from the talk that they were seafaring men. A half a dozen of them; and one that give them orders—a great hulk of a man with a long black mustache.

“‘Tim White,’ sings out Black Scotty. ‘Mates, the lad is shanghaied fer the Evenin’ Star.’

Nellie, she went on.

“‘I run into the alley after them. It was all dark; and when I had gone a ways and they was far ahead, I grew afraid. Then I ran back and tried to find an officer. There was none. I knew now that these would be runners and a crimp’s gang; and I thought of you, Lighthouse Tom.’

“And then Black Scotty spoke agin. Says he: ‘The Evenin’ Star sails with the morning tide. And that big man is Jim White.’

“I felt something like a shiver a-going up my back, for I knowed he had spoken the truth. And I knowed that by this minute Larry would be laid hard and fast in the fo’castle of that blood-ship.

“And Red Larson was a-saying something to Olaf Hansen, and in it I heard him cursing quiet like. And Manuel piped up: ‘A hundred dollars blood, they’re paying to-night fer her crew. I got it in the Bells of Shandon.’

“What was there to do? There was no law in them days fer a sailor. Onct aboard that craft, a man was as good as out to sea. The masters had the courts then. These things was a-running through my head, and I was a-trying to give Nellie some comfort, a-telling her, ‘There, there,’ and the like.

“Then she turned on me. ‘Ye have got to get him,’ she sung out. ‘Ye have got to get him back for me.’

“Then Black Scotty swore a big oath, round and free as if no woman was a-nigh. And says he: ‘Mates, the lass is right. It is the only way. Come on. We’ll go shanghai that lad back agin.’

“‘Hold hard,’ says I. ‘This is easy talking. But what ye say is no more nor less than piracy.’

“Black Scotty, he looked me between the eyes, and says he: ‘Piracy,’ says he; ‘name it if ye want to. What odds does that make, the name ye give it? I’m going to get that lad back fer his girl.’

“‘Well,’ says I, ‘no need to make so much noise about it if ye are. So am I, too, fer the matter of that.’

“‘And the rest of us goes,’ says Red Larson. ‘Don’t we, mates?’

“Olaf Hansen, he was swearing down under his red mustache in Swede, and Manuel says something along the same lines in Portugee. Lad, ye can lay to it, there was no man in that crowd of bullies tuk any thought but the one. And, says I to Nellie:

“‘Now,’ says I, ‘Lass, do ye be goin’ home. We will tend to Larry.’

“I mind how her eyes was blazing and her breath was a-coming hard, and she turned on me. ‘Go home?’ says she. ‘I’ll go with ye. I cannot stay and wait.’

“Well, I tried to talk with her and I might as well of saved my wind. And whilst I was doing that, Black Scotty began to make fer the door.

“‘I tell ye,’ he sung out, ‘by this time Jim White will be ashore agin, and in another hour the rest of the crew will be aboard. Will ye stand here the balance of the night?’

“So we put our heads together and Nellie stood by while we was a-talking. We made it up to slip down by Mother Martin’s place in twos and threes and take a whaleboat that Black Scotty knowed of by the old sea wall.

“‘Easy enough,’ says Scotty; ‘we can handle them on deck, and one or two drop down on the skipper in the cabin whilst the balance of us gees through the fo’castle lively like.’

“And so we laid it out. The others left, and I was the last. Nellie went with me. The whaleboat was there, moored to the old sea wall, and black with men in the shadows of the night. No sooner had we two piled in than Scotty sung out, quiet as maybe, ‘Give way.’

“A dark night with a lively gale blowing up the harbor and a flurry of rain every so often. Ye could not see two boats’ lengths ahead. It was pretty lumpy on the bay and I could feel the spray now and agin when we would ship a hatfull or two of water.”

Lighthouse Tom paused to light his pipe and looked around the room. The sailors were gathered in groups; some were arguing with uplifted fists; some were laughing and oaths boomed from the lips of many.

“Never a crew like that agin,” said he. “They do not make that manner of men these days. A different breed! These in that whaleboat was men, they was.

“And whilst I was a-pulling away, with the wind a-cuffing me alongside of the head and the smell of the bay a-coming in with every long breath, I remembered that I was a married man, with wife and childer up home on Rincon Hill; and I felt that like as not I was a fool to be out here all along of Black Scotty’s orders. For that was what it come to. And then I thought of the girl we was a-taking, and how there would be ugly business ahead. It seemed like I must of lost my senses to stand fer it. But no time fer that sort of thinkin’ now. I tried to put it out of my mind.

“The bay was black as your hat, and here and there a ship’s light made a crooked streak on the water as we run under some vessel’s starn. There was times when ye could not see two oars’ lengths before ye. And no man in our boat spoke a word, onless it would be Black Scotty a-singing out some order very quiet like. Piracy it was that laid before us, and mebbe worse. For the mates on the Evenin’ Star was not the sort to make windy argyment, if there was belayin’ pins in reach. My mind was heavy with these thing, and I did not take note of how fur we had gone, when the word come to ‘up oars and stand by.’

“The wind and tide was with us, and there laid the Evenin’ Star. We was drifting down on her fast. Big and black she looked, a-swinging on her cable in the stream. We was as still as if we was a shadow. Down we drifted, right under her bows.

“We come a-slipping along her side. And as we come we fended off with our hands, so that we did not make a sound. Down between the thwarts, cuddled clost to me, I could feel Nellie a-shaking like a leaf. I bent my head clost to her ear and I told her she must stand by in the boat and—no matter what she heard—she must not come aboard ship. Then we was alongside the gangway ladder.

“There was a man or two on watch on deck. And they had never seen nor heard us as yet. But now Black Scotty was on the ladder and two men had boat hooks out a-holding fast. And—

“‘Boat ahoy,’ I heard some one sing out on deck; and then, ‘Is that you, Jim?’ And even in the second it took me to see that this one would be at least a mate, fer calling Jim White by his first name, I heard his feet a-pounding on the planking as he come to the gangway. And hard on that, I grabbed a hold myself to board her; then, ‘What the hell?’ yelled the man. In the same minute Black Scotty had him by the throat.

“I was aboard while the two of them was going down together. An almighty smash they made when they hit the planks. I stumbled over them and I felt Red Larson a-shoving me from behind; and back of him I heard Olaf Hansen a-swearing in Swede, and Manuel’s piping v’ice sputtering out sailors’ oaths in Portugee. And, ‘Do ye make for the fo’c’stle,’ I says over my shoulder to Red. Then I run on aft.

“A man or two was coming from forard; I could hear them as I run. And I could hear the balance of our crew swearing and thumping their boots agin the timbers as they piled overside. I went fer the cabin with all sail on. For well I knowed that if real trouble come, it would be from that end of the ship.

“I reached the house and started down the stairs. I made them in two jumps. Inside the cabin it was all alight. The skipper had been a-setting there by himself, a-taking a quiet drink, and now he was up on his feet. I take it that he had an idee it was Jim White back with the balance of his crew; for many’s the men was landed aboard the old Evenin’ Star with an almighty lot of noise.

“I was big enough then, and harder than I am now, and quick. And I come into the middle of the floor before he well seen what or who I was. One of them old blue-bellied Yankee skippers, he was, with a ring of whiskers under his chin. I mind a-taking note of how his face growed red, and then he made a dive fer his breeches pocket.

“I had my legs good and under me when I come down in the middle of the cabin floor on that last jump. I seen a heavy chair and I picked it up. And about the same time he out with a pistol. The two of us let fly together.

“Well, it was all things at onct then—a roar of noise and a smother of powder smoke, and the smash of that chair agin the bulkhead. I ducked low, and I made a dive for where I had seen him last. And lucky enough I did that, too. Fer I had missed him as he had missed me; and now he was a-shooting agin. By the time he had let go that other shot, I had him by the legs, and he went down, with me on top of him. I knowed what it was I wanted most; and I had him fast by the wrist before he had more than capsized. I twisted his arm and the gun fell on the floor.

“Two of our byes come a-biling in whilst I was at that; they helped me take a turn or two of rope about his legs and wrists. We left him on the floor a-cursing us, when we run back to the deck.

“From forard come the noise of what sounded like a free-fer-all. A smash and then a yell and then a smash agin. And in it I heard Red Larson bellering like a bull walrus. I seen Black Scotty, with his face all red from his own blood, grappled with one of the mates. They was on the floor together and at it like a pair of fighting dogs. And in and out and all around was the poor devils of the Evenin’ Star’s crew. Some of then was a-fighting and some was a-standing by; and none of them had any notion of what they was a-doing or why. I dived through the ruck and took a look about fer Larry.

“I did not see him at first; but when I had gone onto where the bunks come together near the eyes of the ship, I seen him in one of them. Trussed up he was, and that right neatly, too. I out with my knife and cut the ropes. And then I shoved him ahead of me right through the middle of the fight that was still a-going on. ‘All hands!’ I sung out as I went; and I give ye my word, lad, I had to raise my vice to make the words sound louder than a whisper.

“Well, ‘All hands’ was easier said than done. I lost no time a-getting Larry out. He went in front of me, and did not stop. But the rest of the byes was more or less tied up. So we two stopped on the deck, and I was in half a mind that the pair of us should go back agin and help my mates out when Red Larson come up, and then Black Scotty, a-wiping his face with his sleeve. And hard on his heels come Manuel.

“‘Get them out,’ I told Scotty; and he bellered down to the rest. I heard them a-coming as fast as they could cast loose from them that held on. And Larry and I made fer the boat. And as we went a-running, I heard a racket aft; and some one was a-coming towards us. It was Nellie.

“Her hair was loose-like and her eyes was a-blazing so that I could see the lights from them through the dark. And when she got sight of us, she hailed.

“‘Quick!’ she sung out. “They’re here, in a boat.’ And with that she throwed herself on Larry; and I left the two of them together there. I roared to the rest of them forard and they come running. And none too soon. Fer here was Jim White and two boarding house runners piling down on top of us.

“Nellie told me arterwards how she had heard them come as she was a-waiting there alone in our whaleboat; and how she had been a-scared to move until she got the v’ice of Jim White a-cursing at the noise we was a-making in the fo’c’stle. Then she run up the ladder and come to give us word.

“Well, they must of thought it was a mutiny among the shanghaied crew of theirs, fer they left the half dozen they had in their boat, and come on right away to take a hand. They did not look fer the likes of us. We met them head on, right amidships. Me and Manuel had one of the runners by the throat and down in less time than it takes to tell; and Red Larson and Olaf Hansen was settling his mate. But Black Scotty, he made fer Jim White alone. By the time the others of us was on our feet and ready to make fer the boat, them two was at it hard and heavy—as pretty a fight as any man would want to watch. But there was no time fer pleasure then; and so I jumped Jim White from behind and got my arm under his chin. He come loose handy enough with my knee in the middle of his back. And I started fer the boat.

“Lad, ye should of heard Black Scotty abuse me as he come alongside me. He was that mad from having that mix-up of his spiled. It seems like Jim White had smashed him one good one on the nose, too. I told him to stow his talk, and the next minute we was at our oars and making fer the shore.

“No time fer wasting words now. We could hear the yelling on the Evenin’ Star behind us; and any minute there might be some one a-making fer the ship from the docks. We did not stand by, ye can lay to that. And when we got back to the old seawall, it was a case of scatter and no orders needed.

“Only Black Scotty and me was left with Larry and his lass when the rest of them was out of sight. Nellie had kept Scotty fer a minute, a-telling him how brave a man he was and the like. Then Larry made to shake hands with him.

“Them two took hold of each other’s fists; and fer all that there was no light here at all and the night was black, I seen something strange. They gripped hands; and Larry said a word or two, like ‘Thank ye’ and then he stopped; and then I seen them a-standing with their heads clost together like they would be taking a clost look. And then they cast loose.

“Black Scotty and I went away together. He did not say a word to me. When we got up by the Pacific Mail docks, where there was light, I give him an eye. And his face was like the face of a man who is a-trying to figger out where he has been and what he has been a-doing and why.

“‘What,’ says I, ‘is bothering ye?’

“‘Tom,’ says he, ‘do ye know who that lad was?”

“‘Why, yes,’ says I, ‘I know him well.’

“‘Ye do,’ says he. ‘And so do I. I combed the city front a-trying to find him. No wonder I could not lay my eyes on him then. That is the Irishman I was a-looking fer to tear his head off,’ says he.

‘Anyhow,’ says he after a bit, ‘I got a good fight out of this.’

“And with that I left him and went home to the missus and the babies.”