



Produced by David Widger





A MEMORY OF THE SOUTHERN SEAS


From "Chinkie's Flat And Other Stories"

By Louis Becke


Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Company 1904





CAPTAIN "BULLY" HAYES

In other works by the present writer frequent allusion has been made,
either by the author or by other persons, to Captain Hayes. Perhaps the
continuous appearance of his name may have been irritating to many of
my readers; if so I can only plead that it is almost impossible when
writing of wild life in the Southern Seas to avoid mentioning him. Every
one who sailed the Austral seas between the "fifties" and "seventies,"
and thousands who had not, knew of him and had heard tales of him.
In some eases these tales were to his credit; mostly they were not.
However, the writer makes no further apology for reproducing the
following sketch of the great "Bully" which he contributed to the _Pall
Mall Gazette_, and which, by the courtesy of the editor of that journal,
he is able to include in this volume.

In a most interesting, though all too brief, sketch of the life of
the late Rev. James Chalmers, the famous New Guinea missionary, which
appeared in the January number of a popular religious magazine,
the author, the Rev. Richard Lovett, gives us a brief glance of the
notorious Captain "Bully" Hayes. Mr. Chalmers, in 1866, sailed for the
South Seas with his wife in the missionary ship _John Williams_--the
second vessel of that name, the present beautiful steamer being the
fourth _John Williams_.

The second John Williams had but a brief existence, for on her first
voyage she was wrecked on Nine Island (the "Savage" Island of Captain
Cook). Hayes happened to be there with his vessel, and agreed to convey
the shipwrecked missionaries to Samoa. No doubt he charged them a pretty
stiff price, for he always said that missionaries "were teaching Kanakas
the degrading doctrine that even if a man killed his enemy and cut out
and ate his heart in public, and otherwise misconducted himself, he
could yet secure a front seat in the Kingdom of Heaven if he said he was
sorry and was then baptized as Aperamo (Abraham) or Lakopo (Jacob)."

"It is characteristic of Chalmers," writes Mr. Lovett, "that he was able
to exert considerable influence over this ruffian, and even saw good
points in him, not easily evident to others."

The present writer sailed with Hayes on four voyages as supercargo, and
was with the big-bearded, heavy-handed, and alleged "terror of the South
Seas" when his famous brig _Leonora_ was wrecked on Strong's Island, one
wild night in March, 1875. And he has nothing but kindly memories of a
much-maligned man, who, with all his faults, was never the cold-blooded
murderer whose fictitious atrocities once formed the theme of a highly
blood-curdling melodrama staged in the old Victoria Theatre, in Pitt
Street, Sydney, under the title of "The Pirate of the Pacific." In this
lively production of dramatic genius Hayes was portrayed as something
worse than Blackboard or Llonois, and committed more murders and
abductions of beautiful women in two hours than ever fell to the luck in
real life of the most gorgeous pirate on record. No one of the audience
was more interested or applauded more vigorously the villain's downfall
than "Bully" Hayes himself, who was seated in a private box with a lady.
He had come to Sydney by steamer from Melbourne, where he had left his
ship in the hands of brokers for sale, and almost the first thing he saw
on arrival were the theatrical posters concerning himself and his career
of crime.

"I would have gone for the theatre people," he told the writer, "if they
had had any money, but the man who 'played' me was the lessee of the
theatre and was hard up. I think his name was Hoskins. He was a big
fat fellow, with a soapy, slithery kind of a voice, and I lent him ten
pounds, which he spent on a dinner to myself and some of his company. I
guess we had a real good time."

But let us hear what poor ill-fated Missionary Chalmers has to say about
the alleged pirate:--

"Hayes seemed to take to me during the frequent meetings we had on
shore" (this was when the shipwrecked missionaries and their wives were
living on Savage Island), "and before going on board for good I met him
one afternoon and said to him, 'Captain Hayes, I hope you will have no
objection to our having morning and evening service on board, and twice
on Sabbaths. All short, and only those who like need attend.' Certainly
not. My ship is a missionary ship now' (humorous dog), 'and I hope you
will feel it so. All on board will attend these services.' I replied,
'Only if they are inclined.'" (If they had shirked it, the redoubtable
"Bully" would have made attendance compulsory with a belaying pin.)

"Hayes was a perfect host and a thorough gentleman. His wife and
children were on board. We had fearful weather all the time, yet I must
say we enjoyed ourselves.... We had gone so far south that we could
easily fetch Tahiti, and so we stood for it, causing us to be much
longer on board. Hayes several times lost his temper and did very queer
things, acting now and then more like a madman than a sane man. Much of
his past life he related to us at table, especially of things (he did)
to cheat Governments."

Poor "Bully!" He certainly did like to "cheat Governments," although he
despised cheating private individuals--unless it was for a large amount.
And he frequently "lost his temper" also; and when that occurred
things were very uncomfortable for the man or men who caused it. On
one occasion, during an electrical storm off New Guinea, a number of
corposants appeared on the yards of his vessel, which was manned by
Polynesians and some Portuguese. One of the latter was so terrified at
the ghastly _corpo santo_ that he fell on his knees and held a small
leaden crucifix, which he wore on his neck, to his lips. His example was
quickly followed by the rest of his countrymen; which so enraged Hayes
that, seizing the first offender, he tore the crucifix from his hand,
and, rolling it into a lump, thrust it into his month _and made him
swallow it_.

"You'll kill the man, sir," cried Hussey, his American mate, who, being
a good Catholic, was horrified.

Hayes laughed savagely: "If that bit of lead is good externally it ought
to be a darned sight better when taken internally."

He was a humorous man at times, even when he was cross. And he was one
of the best sailor-men that ever trod a deck. A chronometer watch,
which was committed to the care of the writer by Hayes, bore this
inscription:--

"_From Isaac Steuart, of New York, to Captain William Henry Hayes, of
Cleveland, Ohio. A gift of esteem and respect for his bravery in saving
the lives of seventeen persons at the risk of his own. Honor to the
brave._"

Hayes told me that story--modestly and simply as brave men only tell a
tale of their own dauntless daring. And he told me other stories as well
of his strange, wild career; of Gordon of Khartoum, whom he had known,
and of Ward and Burgevine and the Taeping leaders; and how Burgevine
and he quarrelled over a love affair and stood face to face, pistols in
hand, when Ward sprang in between them and said that the woman was his,
and that they were fools to fight over what belonged to neither of them
and what he would gladly be rid of himself.

Peace to his _manes!_ He died--in his sea-boots--from a blow on his big,
bald head, superinduced by his attention to a lady who was "no better
than she ought to have been," even for the islands of the North Pacific.




THE "WHALE CURE"

I once heard a man who for nearly six years had been a martyr to
rheumatism say he would give a thousand pounds to have a cure effected.

"I wish, then, that we were in Australia or New Zealand during the shore
whaling season," remarked a friend of the writer; "I should feel pretty
certain of annexing that thousand pounds." And then he described the
whale cure.

The "cure" is not fiction. It is a fact, so the whalemen assert, and
there are many people at the township of Eden, Twofold Bay, New
South Wales, who, it is vouched, can tell of several cases of chronic
rheumatism that have been absolutely perfectly cured by the treatment
herewith briefly described. How it came to be discovered I do not know,
but it has been known to American whalemen for years.

When a whale is killed and towed ashore (it does not matter whether it
is a "right," humpback, finback, or sperm whale) and while the interior
of the carcase still retains a little warmth, a hole is out through one
side of the body sufficiently large to admit the patient, the lower
part of whose body from the feet to the waist should sink in the whale's
intestines, leaving the head, of course, outside the aperture. The
latter is closed up as closely as possible, otherwise the patient would
not be able to breathe through the volume of ammoniacal gases which
would escape from every opening left uncovered. It is these gases, which
are of an overpowering and atrocious odour, that bring about the cure,
so the whalemen say. Sometimes the patient cannot stand this horrible
bath for more than an hour, and has to be lifted out in a fainting
condition, to undergo a second, third, or perhaps fourth course on that
or the following day. Twenty or thirty hours, it is said, will effect a
radical cure in the most severe cases, provided there is no malformation
or distortion of the joints, and even in such cases the treatment causes
very great relief. One man who was put in up to his neck in the carcass
of a small "humpback" stood it for sixteen hours, being taken out at
two-hour intervals. He went off declaring himself to be cured. A year
later he had a return of the complaint and underwent the treatment a
second time.

All the "shore" whalemen whom the writer has met thoroughly believe in
the efficacy of the remedy, and by way of practical proof assert that
no man who works at cutting-in and trying out a whale ever suffers
from rheumatism. Furthermore, however, some of them maintain that the
"deader" the whale is, the better the remedy. "More gas in him," they
say. And any one who has been within a mile of a week-dead whale will
believe _that_.

Anyway, if there is any person, rheumatic or otherwise, who wants to
emulate Jonah's adventure in a safe manner (with a dead whale), let him
write to the Davidson Brothers, Ben Boyd Point, Twofold Bay, N.S.W., or
to the Messrs. Christian, Norfolk Island, and I am sure those valorous
whalemen would help him to achieve his desire.




THE SEA "SALMON" SEASON IN AUSTRALIA

The sea salmon make their appearance on the southern half of the eastern
seaboard of Australia with undeviating regularity in the last week of
October, and, entering the rivers and inlets, remain on the coast till
the first week of December. As far as my knowledge goes, they come
from the south and travel northwards, and do not appear to relish the
tropical waters of the North Queensland coast, though I have heard that
some years ago a vast "school" entered the waters of Port Denison.

Given a dear, sunny day and a smooth sea the advent of these fish to
the bar harbours and rivers of New South Wales presents a truly
extraordinary sight. From any moderately high bluff or headland one can
discern their approach nearly two miles away. You see a dark patch upon
the water, and were it not for the attendant flocks of gulls and other
aquatic birds, one would imagine it to be but the passing reflection of
a cloud. But presently you see another and another; and, still farther
oat, a long black line flecked with white can be discerned with a good
glass. Then you look above--the sky is cloudless blue, and you know
that the dark moving patches are the advance battalions of countless
thousands of sea salmon, and that the mile-long black and white streak
behind them is the main body of the first mighty army; for others are to
follow day by day for another fortnight.

Probably the look-out man at the pilot station is the first to see
them, and in a few minates the lazy little seaport town awakes from its
morning lethargy, and even the butcher, and baker, and bootmaker, and
bank manager, and other commercial magnates shut up shop and walk to
the pilot station to watch the salmon "take" the bar, whilst the entire
public school rushes home to