Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

; - 'WINNIN? WAYS precariously far out over the vessel’s stem. Perched at a rakish angle atop his woolly crown, he wore a scarlet hat like a cardi- nal’s skull cap. He was scanning the beach with a pair of binoculars. ‘“‘ Aw, ma-a-an!” His voice was distinctly audible. ‘‘ Lookout thah, black gal, ’fo’ you gits youse’fi all freckled! Uh-uuh! WhatI calls @ steppah! Tha’s the kine of woman Ise aftah—doan have to bothah ‘bout no lawn’ry or nothin’!”’ The agent smiled despite his irritation. ‘“Phat’s my carpenter, Sassafras,” the skipper explained with a chuckle. They would have dismissed the incident, but an awe-struck exclamation breke upon their ears: | “*Fo’ Gawd, that niggah’s walkin’ thoo the watah!” The white men’s eyes sought the cause of the consternation. A native paddler had set out from the beach and was making to- ward the vessel, but there was no visible craft and the man seemed oddly enough to be sitting on the water. ‘“ Here comes your pilot, captain,’ Mr. Forbes informed him. ‘“ He'll show you a suitable anchorage. In the meantime I'll step in the office and glance over the mail you brought.” As the pilot approached it could be seen that he sat astride a raft of leashed bam- boos bound tightly fore and aft so that it tapered to a bow and a stern. The na- tive’s legs were treading water with a duck- like waddle to assist in steering and as a general auxiliary to his frail spoon oar. The float was soon made fast alongside and its single passenger clambered with nimble ease to the steamer’s deck. He was a wizen, dwarfish man with a round, pinched face that was oddly wrinkled. His single article of substantial apparel was a British military Eton jacket that draped rather than fitted him. There was a row of glis- tening buttons down the front and the sleeves were striped to the elbows with gay gold braid. As the black man stood barefoot on the hot steel deck he began to shiver. He was escorted promptly to the captain, where the violence of the chill increased. “Cold! Cold!” came the chattered ex- WID WIMMIN. 115 planation as the stranger pointed to his clossy, dripping legs and then to the sea. “Cold! This water?” The skipper turned to the mate in frank bewilderment. ‘“ Could there possibly be a cold current right here on the equator? Ge get the man a drink of liquor!” This need supplied, the trembling knees stood firm. But the small man grinned up sheepishly as he glanced beyond the cap- tain and saw the agent standing in the cabin door. Mr. Forbes laughed silently. “So you fell a victim to Wamba’s shimmy, captain! Well, never mind, there’s many a drink he gets that way.” , If. WHEN the vessel had been nosed over to her anchorage, the little man. who served both as official pilot and captain of the port, was given a second shot of liquor to guard against the possibility of recurrent chills. He bowed extravagantly and made his way below to the main deck, but he had scarcely reached the bottom of the ladder when he was confronted by the grinning Sassafras. The two black men stood silently exam- ming each other as children do in meet- ing. There was admiration in both pairs of eyes: Sassafras bewitched by the gaudy braided jacket, the man from shore trans- fixed by the size of the seaman and by the flaming cap the big man wore. - Sassafras broke the silence. “ Too bad, now, yo’ mammy nevah use’ wool soap!” He laughed uproariously. ‘ Pull down yo’ ves’ thah, Slivah, sonny! I ’clares, ’side from bein’ knock-kneed an’ the fac’ yo’ haid doan ’zackly fit yo’ shoulders, you ain’t such a bad lookin’ lil man!” The stranger grinned, his gaze still on the gay red headgear. “Sortah Jaks mah bonnet?” Sassafras turned to register the full effect. ““ Come out the cargo,” he explained. ‘‘ Brung ’em dewn from the States. Fo’ or five cases went an’ got all busted so the man wouldn’t take ’em.” He paused judiciously on the verge of the confession that the admired hat was nothing more than the straw crown of what had once been a woman’s bonnet. He reached out his hand and stroked the oO GOMIGDOOKS (C@