present you can be of little use, except in those heavy gales in which every pair of hands is valuable. You must look and learn for some time yet; but you can make a fair copy of the journal kept for the inspection of the Company, and may assist me in various ways, as soon as the unpleasant nausea, felt by those who first embark, has subsided. As a remedy, I should propose that you gird a handkerchief tight round your body so as to compress the stomach, and make frequent application of my bottle of schnapps, which you will find always at your service. But now to receive the factor of the most puissant Company. Mynheer Hillebrant, let them discharge the cannon.”
The guns were fired, and soon after the smoke had cleared away, the boat, with its long ensign trailing on the water, was pulled alongside. Philip watched the appearance of the supercargo — but he remained in the boat until several of the boxes with the initials and arms of the Company were first handed on the deck; at last the supercargo appeared.
He was a small, spare, wizen-faced man with a three-cornered cocked-hat, bound with broad gold lace, upon his head, under which appeared a full-bottomed flowing wig, the curls of which descended low upon his shoulders. His coat was of crimson velvet, with broad flaps: his waistcoat of white silk, worked in coloured flowers, and descending half-way down to his knees. His breeches were of black satin, and his legs were covered with white silk stockings. Add to this, gold buckles at his knees and in his shoes, lace ruffles to his wrists, and a silver-mounted cane in his hand, and the reader has the entire dress of Mynheer Jacob Janz Von Stroom, the supercargo of the Honourable Company, appointed to the good ship Ter Schilling.
As he looked round him, surrounded at a respectful distance, by the captain, officers, and men of the ship, with their caps in their hands, the reader might be reminded of the picture of the “Monkey who had seen the world,” surrounded by his tribe. There was not, however, the least inclination on the part of the seamen to laugh, even at his flowing, full-bottomed wig: respect was at that period paid to dress; and although Mynheer Von Stroom could not be mistaken for a sailor, he was known to be the supercargo of the Company, and a very great man. He therefore received all the respect due to so important a personage.
Mynheer Von Stroom did not, however, appear very anxious to remain on deck. He requested to be shown into his cabin, and followed the captain aft, picking his way among the coils of ropes with which his path was encumbered. The door was opened, and the supercargo disappeared. The ship was then got under weigh, the men had left the windlass, the sails had been trimmed, and they were securing the anchor on board, when the bell of the poop-cabin (appropriated to the supercargo) was pulled with great violence.
“What can that be?” said Mynheer Kloots (who was forward), taking the pipe out of his mouth. “Mynheer Vanderdecken, will you see what is the matter?”
Philip went aft, as the pealing of the bell continued, and opening the cabin door, discovered the supercargo perched upon the table and pulling the bell-rope, which hung over its centre, with every mark of fear in his countenance. His wig was off, and his bare skull gave him an appearance peculiarly ridiculous.
“What is the matter, sir?” inquired Philip.
“Matter!” spluttered Mynheer Von Stroom — “call the troops in with their firelocks. Quick, sir. Am I to be murdered, torn to pieces, and devoured? For mercy’s sake, sir, don’t stare, but do something — look, it’s coming to the table! O dear! O dear!” continued the supercargo, evidently terrified out of his wits.
Philip, whose eyes had been fixed on Mynheer Von Stroom, turned them in the direction pointed out, and much to his astonishment perceived a small bear upon the deck, who was amusing himself with the supercargo’s flowing wig, which he held in his paws, tossing it about and now and then burying his muzzle in it. The unexpected sight of the animal was at first a shock to Philip; but a moment’s consideration assured him that the animal must be harmless, or it never would have been permitted to remain loose in the vessel.
Nevertheless, Philip had no wish to approach the animal, whose disposition he was unacquainted with, when the appearance of Mynheer Kloots put an end to his difficulty.
“What is the matter, Mynheer?” said the captain. “O! I see: it is Johannes,” continued the captain, going up to the bear, and saluting him with a kick, as he recovered the supercargo’s wig. “Out of the cabin, Johannes! Out, sir!” cried Mynheer Kloots, kicking the breech of the bear till the animal had escaped through the door. “Mynheer Von Stroom, I am very sorry, — here is your wig. Shut the door, Mynheer Vanderdecken, or the beast may come back, for he is very fond of me.”
As soon the door was shut between Mynheer Von Stroom and the object of his terror, the little man slid off the table to the high-backed chair near it, shook out the damaged curls of his wig, and replaced it on his head; pulled out his ruffles, and, assuming an air of magisterial importance, struck his cane on the deck, and then spoke.
“Mynheer Kloots, what is the meaning of this disrespect to the supercargo of the puissant Company?”
“God in Heaven! no disrespect, Mynheer; — the animal is a bear, as you see; he is very tame, even with strangers. He belongs to me. I have had him since he was three months old. It was all a mistake. The mate, Mynheer Hillebrant, put him in the cabin, that he might be out of the way while the duty was carrying on, and he quite forgot that he was here. I am very sorry, Mynheer Von Stroom; but he will not come here again, unless you wish to play with him.”
“Play with him! I! supercargo to the Company, play with a bear! Mynheer Kloots, the animal must be thrown overboard immediately.”
“Nay, nay; I cannot throw overboard an animal that I hold in much affection, Mynheer Von Stroom; but he shall not trouble you.”
“Then, Captain Kloots, you will have to deal with the Company, to whom I shall represent this affair. Your charter will be cancelled, and your freight-money will be forfeited.”
Kloots was, like most Dutchmen, not a little obstinate, and this imperative behaviour on the part of the supercargo raised his bile. “There is nothing in the charter that prevents my having an animal on board,” replied Kloots.
“By the regulations of the Company,” replied Von Stroom, falling back in his chair with an important air, and crossing his thin legs, “you are required to receive on board strange and curious animals, sent home by the governors and factors to be presented to crowned heads, — such as lions, tigers, elephants, and other productions of the East; — but in no instance is it permitted to the commanders of chartered ships to receive on board, on their own account, animals of any description, which must be considered under the head and offence of private trading.”
“My bear is not for sale, Mynheer Von Stroom.”
“It must immediately be sent out of the ship, Mynheer Kloots. I order you to send it away, — on your peril to refuse.”
“Then we will drop the anchor again, Mynheer Von Stroom, and send on shore to head-quarters to decide the point. If the Company insists that the brute be put on shore, be it so; but recollect, Mynheer Von Stroom, we shall lose the protection of the fleet, and have to sail alone. Shall I drop the anchor, Mynheer?”
This observation softened down the pertinacity of the supercargo: he had no wish to sail alone, and the fear of this contingency was more powerful than the fear of the bear.
“Mynheer Kloots, I will not be too severe; if the animal is chained, so that it does not approach me, I will consent to its remaining on board.”
“I will keep it out of your way as much as I can; but as for chaining up the poor animal, it will howl all day and night and you will have no sleep, Mynheer Von Stroom,” replied Kloots.
The supercargo, who perceived that the captain was positive and that his threats were disregarded, did all that a man could do who could not help himself. He vowed vengeance in his own mind, and then, with an air of condescension, observed — “Upon those conditions, Mynheer Kloots, your animal may remain on board.”
Mynheer Kloots and Philip then left the cabin; the former, who was in no very good humour, muttering as he walked away — “If the Company send their monkeys on board, I think