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Updated: June 16, 2025
"We might almost chance it," Daughtry was debating aloud to Big John, when a new voice entered the discussion. "Cocky! Cocky!" came plaintive tones from below out of the steerage companion. "Devil be damned!" was the next, uttered in irritation and anger. "Devil be damned! Devil be damned!"
The third officer, the eighteen-year-old lad, fought well beside me, and saved me, so that, just before I fainted, he and I, between us, hove the bo's'n's carcass overside." A shifting of feet and changing of positions of those in the cabin plunged Daughtry back into his polishing, which he had for the time forgotten.
Daughtry cried, at sight of the whale flurrying the water with aimless, gigantic splashings. "It must a-smashed both of 'em." "Schooner he finish close up altogether," Kwaque observed, as the Mary Turner's rail disappeared. Swiftly she sank, and no more than a matter of moments was it when the stump of her mainmast was gone.
In the steerage everybody was happy Dag Daughtry because his wages were running on and a further supply of beer was certain; Kwaque because he was happy whenever his master was happy; and Ah Moy because he would soon have opportunity to desert away from the schooner and the two lepers with whom he was domiciled.
To him even did I tell my family name, and the shame I had saved it from by forswearing it. "He put his arm on my shoulder, I tell you, and . . . " The Ancient Mariner ceased talking because of a huskiness in his throat, and a moisture from his eyes trickled down both cheeks. Dag Daughtry pledged him silently, and in the draught from his glass he recovered himself.
When Michael would have gone forward, the man withstrained him with the same inarticulate, almost inaudible kiss. For Daughtry did not care to be seen on such dog-stealing enterprises and was planning how to get on board the steamer unobserved. He edged around outside the lantern shine and went on along the beach to the native village.
As the days passed, the steward took facetious occasions, when he had drunk five quarts of his daily allowance, to shift his and Kwaque's bunks about. And invariably Ah Moy shifted, though Daughtry failed to notice that he never shifted into a bunk which Kwaque had occupied.
And at such times Dag Daughtry, below on the for'ard deck, feigning unawareness as he went about his work, would steal side-glances up at the bridge where the captain and his passengers stared down on him, and his breast would swell pridefully, because he knew that the captain was saying: "See him! that's Dag Daughtry, the human tank.
Look at him!" And so, knowing his captain's speech, swollen with pride in his own prowess, Dag Daughtry would continue his ship-work with extra vigour and punish a seventh quart for the day in advertisement of his remarkable constitution. It was a queer sort of fame, as queer as some men are; and Dag Daughtry found in it his justification of existence.
The morning the Makambo entered Sydney harbour, Captain Duncan had another try for Michael. The port doctor's launch was coming alongside, when he nodded up to Daughtry, who was passing along the deck: "Steward, I'll give you twenty pounds." "No, sir, thank you, sir," was Dag Daughtry's answer. "I couldn't bear to part with him." "Twenty-five pounds, then. I can't go beyond that.
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