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ATLANTIC READINGS 
 
 Number' f} ." ■ '. : 
 
 A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM McFEE 
 
 Zht latlantic iWontljlp |3rtS£( 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 
• •••,••• • 
 
 f'tplfHoht, IPIM, by 
 
 THK atlantk: m<»ntiily company 
 
 iTt>i* i-Ki'f •'«• .>ri.iiri>llv I iit>Ii«)ir<t 111 Tiir Ati tNnr XtoMini t fut Xtut' li. tOIK' 
 

 //1 1 /7 
 
 A PORT SAID MISCElIaNY'" 
 
 
 BY WILLIAM MCFEE 
 
 
 There has come upon us, suddenly, one of those inex- 
 plicable lulls which make the experienced seafarer in the 
 Mediterranean recall bygone voyages out East. It is as if 
 the ship had run abruptly into some sultry and airless 
 chamber of the ocean, a chamber whose cobalt roof has 
 shut down tight, and through which not a breath is moving. 
 The smoke from the funnel, of a sulphurous bronze color, - 
 even while our trail yet lies somnolent in a long smear on 
 the horizon, now goes straight to the zenith. The iron 
 bulwarks are as hot as hand can bear, as the westering sun 
 glows full upon the beam. Under the awTiings the troops 
 lie gasping on their rubber sheets, enduring silently and 
 uncomprehendingly, like dumb animals. 
 
 Far ahead, the escort crosses and recrosses our course. 
 Still farther ahead, a keen eye can detect a slight fraying 
 of the taut blue line of the horizon. Signals break from 
 the escort and are answered from our bridge. I turn to a 
 sergeant who is shambling to and fro by the machine- 
 room door, and inform him that Port Said is in sight, and 
 that he will be in harbor in an hour or so. 
 
 And then, just as suddenly as we entered, the door of 
 that heated chamber of the sea opens and we pass out 
 into a warm humid wind. The wind and the news wake 
 everybody. The soldiers, who have encamped on our 
 after-deck during the voyage, suddenly disj)lay a feverish 
 activity. Rations are packed, rifles are cleaned, and I am 
 in the full tide of popular favor because I permit oil- 
 
\ r(mr said mis('ellany 
 
 r\"()irs to br. t<-plrni.slMtl in (li«' nmchino-rooni nnd 
 furtirsh tk«WJc J>hCr^r.<.s fnifinients of oM cnicn* cloth wliirh 
 gh<!.««ubufMf^"tJ'b)t'"5»n(l silver^' j;los.s to the holts. Ijitcr, 
 I hitiTso |n»i)ularfhat I-Couhl ahiiost .stanrl for I'arhanicnt, 
 for I tfll tlic sergeant that each man can fill his water- 
 iKiltle with i<"e«l water. Which they j)n>coe(l to<lontoncc, 
 so that sai<I water gets rc<l-hot l>cforc the moment of 
 (liscnil)arkati()n ! 
 
 Hut take a look at these men on our after-tieck while we 
 are coming up to I'ort Said. Ymi Ikivc never seen them 
 before and you will not st'C them again, for they arc hound 
 for Hagdad and l)eyon<l. They are ver>' rejjresentative, 
 for they are of all ages, races, and regiments. They are 
 going to join units which have been transferred. Three 
 were hours in the water when their ship was torj>edoed. 
 Several have come overland across France and Italy, and 
 got most pleasantly hung up at entrancing cities on the 
 way. Others have come out of hospitals and trenches in 
 Macedonia and France and Flanders. They are Irish, 
 Scottish, Welsh, and Knglish. The sergeant, now tlnimb- 
 ing a worn ix>cket-book, has seen ser\'icc in India, China, 
 Egypt, and France. 
 
 Behind him, on the hatch, is a boy of eighteen who wears 
 the uniform of the most famotis regiment in the British 
 Army. He is small for his age, and he has a most engaging 
 smih". When I asked him how on earth he got into the 
 Army lie explained that he had ' misriprisintcd his age.' 
 He liJLS u chum, a gaimt Highlander, who scarcely op<'ned 
 his lips all the voyage, and who sat on the hatch sewing 
 buttons on their clothes, darning their st«K"kings, and 
 reu«ling a religious j)amphlet entitled Poing it A'oir. 
 
 There is another sergeant . to«). a y»mng gentleman going 
 home to get n commission. He is almost to 1)C desrril>ed 
 flUl <»ne apart, f«>r he hoMs no (•<>iiver»-e with the others. He 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 8 
 
 walks in a mincing way, he has a gold watch with a curb- 
 chain on one wrist, a silver identification plate and a silver 
 slave-bangle from Saloniki on the other, and an amethyst 
 ring on one of his fingers. As the Chief Engineer said to me 
 one day, he needed only a spear and a ring through his 
 nose to be a complete fighting man. However, in this 
 war it is unwise to make snap judgments. I understand 
 that this young gentleman has an aptitude for certain 
 esoteric brain-work of vast use in artillery. He never goes 
 near the firing-hne at all. Our young friend Angus Mac- 
 Fadden has that job. When the young gentleman with 
 the slave-bangle and gold- mounted fountain-pen and ex- 
 pensive Kodak has figured out certain calculations in his 
 dug-out oflBce, Angus, who resembles an extremely war- 
 like bellhop, with his gaunt Highland chum beside him, 
 will scramble up out of his trench, make a most determined 
 rush toward a given point, and, in short, complete the 
 job, whatever it may be. 
 
 Now it is all very well to talk about the triumphs of 
 mind over matter, but my interest is not with the young 
 gentleman at all. He may carry Omar Khayyam in his 
 kit. He may call the 'Shropshire Lad' 'topping poetry.' 
 He may (as he does) borrow Swinburne from my book- 
 shelf. My interest is with Angus and his chums. I look 
 out of my machine-room window and watch them getting 
 ready to disembark. They are very amusing, with their 
 collapsible aluminium pannikins, their canvas wash- 
 basins and buckets, their fold-up shaving tackle and tele- 
 scopic tooth-brushes. 
 
 There is one tough old private of the Old Army among 
 them. He has the Egyptian and two South African med- 
 als. He never seems to have any kit to bother him. I see 
 him in the gnlley, peeling potatoes for their dinner, deep 
 in conversation with the i)antryman and smoking an Irish 
 
4 A I'oirr S\II) MI^( I I I ANY 
 
 rlny. H«' kii<>\v> all the twcnly-onc moves, as wc say. 
 Then there is a very yiniii^ man wlio roads lovr stories 
 all tlic time, a n>sy-<hr<'kc<l lad with the Distinguished 
 Service Onler rihhon on his tunic. 
 
 Another, almost as youn^. is tremendously interested in 
 refri^'eration. He eomes into my en^'ine-nKJUi and stares 
 in nipt incredulity at the snow on the machine. ' I don't 
 sec why it doesn't melt I' he complains, as if he had a 
 grievance. *Howf/o you freeze? if it isn't a rude question.* 
 
 I exj)lain briefly how we utilize the latent heat of re- 
 evaporation peculiar to certain gaseous media, in order to 
 retluce the tem|)erature. He turns on me with a rush of 
 frankness and hursts out, 'Hut. you know, that's nil 
 CJreek to mel' Well, I suppest, his soldiering 's all (Jreek 
 to me, come to that. lie laughs shortly, with his eyes on 
 the ever-moving engines, and says he supposes so. Hy 
 and by he begins to talk of his experiences in Macedonia. 
 He thinks the sea is beautiful, after the bare hot gulches 
 and ravines. He is so fair that the sun has burne<l his face 
 and knees pink instead of brown. I asked him what he was 
 doing Ix'fore the war, and he said his father had a see<i- 
 farm in Ivssex and he himself was learning the business. 
 
 Meanwhile we have arrived at Port Said. The engines 
 stop and go astern violently, and the pilot comes along- 
 side in a boat and climbs the rope-ladder. Just ahead is 
 the breakwater, with a couple of motor patrols keeping 
 guard over the fairway. Our escort puts on speed and 
 goes in, for her j«>b with us is done. She has gone in to 
 coal, and she will be ready in u few hours to take another 
 transjH)rt out. She and her sisters arc like us — they arc 
 never through. The bip ships may lie for <lays, or even 
 weeks, iti harl>or. We small fry have to hurry. Hack and 
 forth we ply without ceasing. Sometimes we run ashore 
 in our haste, and so make less s|>ecd. Sometimes wc 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 5 
 
 smash into each other in the dark, and have to stagger 
 back to port and refit with all possible expedition. Some- 
 times, too, we go out and never come back, and nobody 
 save the authorities and our relatives hears anything about 
 it. To what end? Well — and herein lies my interest in 
 those soldiers of the King on the after-deck — the one 
 ultimate object we have in view is to get Master Angus 
 MacFadden and his chums into that front-line trench, to 
 keep them there, warm and fed, and fully supplied with 
 every possible assistance when they climb over the para- 
 pet to make the aforesaid rush. Everything else, when 
 you come to think of it, is subordinate to that. 
 
 The ship goes at half-speed now past the breakwater, a 
 long gray finger pointing northwards from the beach. 
 Half-way along we pass the De Lesseps statue on its 
 high pedestal, the right hand flung out in a grandiose 
 gesture toward the supreme achievement of his life. The 
 warm wind from the westward is sending up the sea to 
 break in dazzling white foam on the yellow sand below 
 the pink and blue and brown bathing-huts. The break- 
 water is crowded with citizens taking the air, for the 
 walks of Port Said are restricted and flavored with the 
 odors of Arabian domesticity. We pass on, and the hotels 
 and custom-house buildings come into view. All around 
 are the transients of the ocean, anchored and for a moment 
 at rest. Past the Canal building we steam, a pretentious 
 stucco afi'air with three green-tiled domes and deep IJyzan- 
 tine galleries. Past also Navy House, a comely white 
 building in the Venetian style, recalling the Doge's Palace 
 — an illusion heightened by the fleet of patrols anchored 
 in front, busily getting ready to go out to work. 
 
 And then we stop, and manoeuvre, and go astern; tugs 
 whistle imperiously, motor-boats buzz around us, ropes 
 are hurriedly ferried across to buoys and quays, and we 
 
• \ ?'(>UT SAID MISCKM.ANY 
 
 MH' inmle fast an<| piiIUmI into mir Im-HIi iilun^'sidr (.fun 
 imiiu-nso vc*ssr| wliicli luts (X)inc fn»ni tlio <»llM'r .side of the 
 Wiirlil with fn»7rn iiirat to Uh^\ Maxtor AnjnJH ami liis 
 chums. lint hy this time it is (lark. ThtMK-hrron.s shwn on 
 thohky Iwhiiul Tort Said is darkening to pur])lcnn<l vioh't, 
 the stars arc shining iM«afcfiilly over us, and the .sergeant 
 eonios to ask U<r a lanlrrn Itv which to finish packing }iis 
 kit. 
 
 It hjLs hocn warm during thc<lay. I»nl now it is stifling. 
 We are. as I said. ch».sc alongside a great ship. She ex- 
 tends heyond us and towers alM)ve u.s, and even the warm 
 humid hn^v.e of IN.rt Said in Atigtj.st is shut out from us. 
 rp fn»m l>elow comes a suffocating stench of hot hilge. 
 The ship is invaded hy a swarm f)f Aral> cargo-men, who 
 l>egin immediately to load us from our neighl>f>r. Cargo 
 lights, of a ghastly l.liie color, appear at the hatchways. 
 .\ngus and his chums take up their kits and fall in on the 
 l»ridge-<leck. OHiccrs hurry to and fro. Hatches are taken 
 off, and the cold air of the holds comes up in thin wisps of 
 fog into the tropic night. Winches rattle. Harsh words of 
 French and .\rahic conuningle with the more intelligihle 
 shouts of the shijj's officers. .Ml night this goes on. All 
 night pr<K'ee<ls this j)reiM>ster<»us tniffic in fn)7.en corjvscs, 
 amid the dim blue radiance of the cargo-<lusters. Ilun- 
 dn'<ls ui)on hundreds of frozen corpses! 
 
 I go off watch at eight and, seated in a room like a 
 Turkish hath, I try to concentrate on the letters which 
 have come over the .sea. I am .seized with a pn)found de- 
 pression, arising, I supjMvse, from the hizjirre <li.ser<"pancy 
 l>etwcen the hummIs comnuinicated l>y the letters and my 
 own weariness. .Most letters are .so oj)timistic in tone. 
 They clap one on the hack and give one hreezy news of 
 the flowers in .New .lerst'y gardens, of the heut in New 
 Orleaiuj, of lM)mlis in I>)ndon and reunions in Knglish 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 7 
 
 houses. All very nice; but I have to get up at two, and 
 the thermometer over my bunk is now registering a hun- 
 dred Fahrenheit. An electric fan buzzes and snaps in the 
 corner and seems only to make the air hotter. An Arab 
 passes in the alle\'way outside and calls to some one 
 named Achmet in an unmelodious howl. (All male Arabs 
 are named Achmet apparently.) 
 
 I sit in my pajamas, with the letters in my hand, and 
 wonder how long it is going to last. Another week or so 
 and we shall have had two years of it. Most of us have 
 gone home on leave. Counting the commander, there are 
 — let me see — four of us left of the original crowd. It is 
 over a year since I applied for leave. Nothing vrill come of 
 it. I look into the future and see myself, a gray elderly 
 failure, still keeping a six-hour shift on a Mediterranean 
 transport, my life spent, my friends and relatives all dead, 
 Angus and his chums gone west, and a new generation 
 coming out, with vigorous appetites for fresh provisions. 
 
 And then the door opens and lets in a slight uniformed 
 figure with a grip in his hand and a familiar smile on his 
 face. Lets in also hberty, freedom, pay-day, England, 
 Home and Beauty. 
 
 It is my relief, arrived at last ! 
 
 II 
 
 We greet each other shyly, for the chief and some of the 
 others are standing in the alleyway, with broad grins on 
 their faces at my look of flabbergasted bewilderment. An 
 Arab porter comes along with a big canvas bag of dunnage, 
 which he dumps at our feet. 
 
 'Why — what — how — when — did you get here?' 
 I ask weakly. 
 
 'Train from Alexandria,' he replies, sitting down on the 
 settee. 
 
8 A rOHT SAII> MISCKLKANY 
 
 My kitf<n). a saixly littlr sava^-r known h.s O'llmn-. 
 jtimps tip an. I Iw'pns t«> make friends. OUcnry is stn)kr«l 
 and tiiklo*!, and Tommy lcK)k.s np nt mc willi his old 
 Itilernnf. l»land. imprrf nrl)al»Ic sjnilr. 
 
 'V<)U.<tf all p<t>plr:' I remark. l«M»kinijal liim inanelv. 
 
 "Aye. they sent me out.* he aMirms. 'They tohl me you 
 were liere. How's thinj^s?* 
 
 The others ^'o away, still smiling. an<l I shut the d(K)r. 
 For this younj; <h;ip, who h;is (dnie across KiiroiK* to re- 
 lieve me, is an oM shipmate. W<'\\<reoii the Mero\ injxian. 
 We have l)een many voyages to Rio and the I'lates. We 
 were always ehtims. In .some obscure fashion, we pot on. 
 Tommy i.s North Country <lr>-, tacituni. reticent. .sh)w 
 t«» make friends. A hot-air merchant makes him restive 
 and he goes away. He al»h(trs hlufTers. I like him. We 
 have never written, thouj,'h, for it is a fact that .some friend- 
 shij>s do not 'carr>' in a Idler. They are like .some wines 
 - they do not tnivel. Tor all I knew. I was never to .see 
 him a^^iin. What of that? We had Immmi chums and we 
 underst(M>d each other. I had often thought of him since 
 I M l>een <»ut here — a g<M>d little shipmate. .\nd now here 
 he was. on my .settee, smiling and tickling' O'llcnrj' just 
 w here he likes to l>c tickle<l, and asking me to eonic mshorc 
 AS ith him. 
 
 Will I come ashore with him? Will I not? 1 <lraj; o[>on 
 <lniw<Ts. flinj; (»ut a white-drill suit, and Im-^mu to dress. I 
 ojH-n the do«(r and shout to the messnian to ^'o .-md ^v\ :i 
 iMiat and hrinj; my sIhk's and .s«tme hot water. While I 
 .shave. Tommy relates his adventures in u sket<hv way 
 1 1< has no fjift of t«»n^,nies. Imt now and apiin he strikes out 
 a jjhranr that hrin^fs the picture In-fore me. He ha.s Infu 
 torjM'diHNl II.- wa.s in the Mallhiisian when she was 
 'plu^'^'cd.' He wjLs on watch, of (tuirse. Thirds always 
 are on \vatch when anything hap|K'ns. 1 u.sed to tell him 
 
A PORT SAID IVnSCELLANY 9 
 
 that he was the original of Browning's 'Shadowy Third,' 
 he is so small, with delicate hands and that charming, 
 elusive, shado^vy smile. 
 
 Oh, I remark, as I reach for the talcum powder, he was 
 torpedoed, was he? He nods and smiles at O'Henry's 
 trick of falling off the settee head over heels. And the poor 
 old Malthusian too, — what a box of tricks she was, with 
 her prehistoric pumps and effervescent old dynamo, — 
 gone at last, eh? Tommy says nothing about the catastro- 
 phe save that he lost his gear. Then, he observes, he joined 
 the Polynesian as Third, having, of course, got himself 
 fresh gear. Ah, and had I heard about the Polynesian? 
 She's gone too, he said, letting O'Henry down to the floor 
 by his tail. What? Torpedoed too? It must be a sort of 
 habit with him. Good Heavens ! But no, says Tommy, she 
 was attacked, but she got away, and — 
 
 *It was a funny thing,' he adds meditatively; and looks 
 at me as though he could n't make it out. 
 
 'What,' I ask, 'what happened?' as I look around for 
 my stick and cigar-case. 
 
 'Oh, I'll tell you when we get ashore,' he says; and he 
 rolls O'llenry into a ball and drops him on my bunk. 
 
 'Come on, then. — Sam! Got that boat? ' 
 
 A negro voice howls, ' Yes, sah,' and we go out and down 
 the ladder. 
 
 A three-quarter moon is coming up, hangs now over 
 Palestine, and Port Said, the ancient Pelusium, takes on a 
 serene splendor inconceivable to those who have seen her 
 only in the hard dusty glare of noon-day. The harsh out- 
 lines of the ships soften to vague shadows touched with 
 silver; the profound gloom within the colonnades of the 
 Canal building, the sheen of the moonlight on green domes 
 and gray stucco walls make of it a fairy palace of mist 
 and emerald. Each motor-launch speeding past leaves a 
 
10 A roiM >.\]\) MISCKIJ.ANY 
 
 !>n»a<lcninp. licnvin^c fumiw «.f jdiosplion'stTucr. Kn<h dip 
 f»f our CMirs !»rrak.s tlic dark water into un iucrtNlihlc swirl 
 of Ixiilinjj jrnTnish-wliite ra«lianco. 
 
 Toinniy nml I sit sitle l»y side in tlic stem in silence as 
 the Arab lH)at man. in hhio ^'own nn<l round wliitc cap, pulls 
 IIS up to the Custonl-Hcuisc qtiay. Wo ])nsH out at a si<le 
 pate and find ourselves in K^Vfjtian darkness. Wliefher 
 this is due to niihtary exi^'eiuies or to a sliorla^'o of fuel. 
 nolnnly seems to know. Tlie hotel huildinjjs alon^' the 
 front throw their shadows ri^'ht arro.ss the Sharia el I/e^'era. 
 down w Inch we pas.s until we reach the hroad dusty Rue el 
 Nil, n l>o>ilevanl nmnin^ strai^dit down to the sea. We are 
 hound for the Kastern Kxchan^'e Hotel, familiarly known 
 as 'The Eastern.' It is the^rand nil1yinf,'-i)ointof mariners 
 ea.st and west of Suez. It is a hu^'c paunt structure of pla.ss 
 and iron, !)uilt over to the curb of the strei^t and the ar- 
 cade under it is full of pre<Mi chairs and tables. pre<«n 
 shnibs in enormous tubs, and dimbitip plants twined alM.ut 
 the iron stanchions. The lights are shrotide<i in preen 
 I>etrolcuni cans, and one has the illusion of sittinp in the 
 plade of .s«une artificial forest. Hotel waiters, in lonp white 
 n>l>es cut across with brilliant .scarlet .s;ishes, and sunnount- 
 e«l !»y scarlet fezes, move noiselessly to atul fro with trays 
 «if tirinks. .\n or< hcstra, .siunewhere lK\vond, plays a jjlain- 
 live air. 
 
 .'Ml an)und are uniforms naval ami military. British, 
 French. Italian, and so f<.rth. It is here, I .say, that Kjust 
 and West <lo meet. Here the skipjx-r from Nagasaki finds 
 an ohl shipmate just in fn)m New Orleans. Here a chief 
 enpine<T, burned brown and worn thin by a summer at 
 Basni, drinks with a friend IxHuid Ka^t fnmi (Ilaspow to 
 HanptHtn. Hen* the possip of all the iM)rts of the Seven 
 St'its chanpes hatids over the little tables imder the dim 
 grcen-hha<le<| lights. Outside. Iwyctud the screen of ver- 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 11 
 
 dure, a carriage will go by stealthily in the dust, a cigar 
 glowing under the hood. Itinerant salesmen of peanuts in 
 glass boxes, beads, Turkish delight, postals, cigarettes, 
 news-sheets, postage-stamps, and all the other passenger 
 junk, pass to and fro. A native conjurer halts as we sit 
 dowTi, sadly produces a dozen lizards from an apparently 
 empty fez, and passes on as I look coldly upon his peripa- 
 tetic legerdemain. Here and there parties of residents sit 
 round a table — a French family, perhaps, or Italian, or 
 Maltese, or Greek, or Hebrew, or Syrian ■ — for they are 
 all to be found here in Pelusium, the latter making money 
 out of their conquerors, just as, I dare say, they did in 
 Roman times. Papa is smoking a cigarette; Mamma is sit- 
 ting back surveying the other denizens of the artificial 
 forest through her lorgnon ; the young ladies converse with 
 a couple of youthful ' subs ' in khaki, and a bare-legged boy, 
 in an enormous pith hat like an inverted bath, is haggling 
 over half a piastre with a vender of peanuts. Tommy and 
 I sit in the shadow of a shrub and I order gin and Hme- 
 juice. He wants beer, but there is no beer — only some 
 detestable carbonated bilge-water at half a dollar (ten 
 piastres) the bottle. 
 
 And soldiers go by continually to and from the cafes and 
 canteens. Many are Colonials, and their wide-brimmed 
 hats decorated with feathers give them an extraordinarily 
 dissipated air. There is something very im-English about 
 these enormous, loose-limbed, rolling fighting-men, with 
 their cheeks the color of raw beef and their truculent eyes 
 under their wide hats. They remind me at times of the 
 professional soldiers of my school-days, who dressed in 
 scarlet and gold and were a race apart. As they pass us, in 
 twos and threes and singly, slouching and jingling their 
 spurs, and roll off into darkness again, I think of Master 
 Angus MacFaddcn and his chums, and I wonder Avliat the 
 
I« \ I'oKT SAID \I|M K1J.ANY 
 
 fnf urr holds for us all. Tlu-n I lu-ar Tommy talking and I 
 l>cpn to listrn. 
 
 No nso trying to tril the .st«.ry a,s lu> toM if. Whorvor 
 thinks ho can. is the victim of an ilhision. Tommy's style. 
 Hko his fMTson.iIily. is not Htrniry. I often womlrr. whon I 
 think «if th«' sort of lifr h«' h.is h-d. h<i\v he comes to cxpmvs 
 himself at all. F(»r he offc«n startles mc- with some* cpjt'cr 
 Bcmi-articiilatc flash of intuition. Adirect challcnigeto Life! 
 As when he .sxiid. hnjking up at me as we leaned over the 
 hulwark.s and watched the sun rise one nutrning in the 
 C'urihlK'an. 'Vo* know. I have n't had nuy life.' 
 
 ^^ ell, as I .sjjid. he and I an* chum.s on .some mysteriou.sly 
 tacit urn. North Country princii)le that won't In-ar talking 
 al>out! And I must tell the story in my own way. merely 
 cjuoling u i)hnise now and then. I (.we him that much Ik*- 
 cause. y(»u .see. he w.-is tliere. 
 
 Ill 
 
 That voyage he made in the Polynesian was lur usual 
 Ix)ncion to S)uth American ports. And nothing hapiMMie.j 
 imtil they were homeward lM)und and making I'shanf. It 
 wa.s a gloriou.s day, a.s clear a.s it ever is in northern waters, 
 and the Third Mate was astonished to .see through his 
 gl.isses what he t<M»k tc» l)e land. Ishant aln-ady! A.s he 
 IcKtked. he .siiw a flash and his wonder deci>ened. He told 
 himself, well, he'd Ik' Mowed! A tremendous l)ang a lnm- 
 dn'dy.'irdsalMvim of the* Polynesian nearly sh(K»k him over- 
 l>oanl. It has come at last, then I 
 
 The Old Man came* from his room, running si«leways. his 
 face .set in u kind ctf spjism. and sIckkI l»y the mil. clutching 
 it as if i>etrilie«l. The Third Mate, a friend of Tonimy's. 
 I>oinled and handc-d the l)in(Kular just in time for tin* Old 
 Man to .see anutiier flash. The morning telegraph clanged 
 
A PORT SAID AUSCELLANY 13 
 
 and jangled. The Third Mate ran to the telephone and 
 was listening, when the second shell, close to the bows, 
 exploded on the water and made him drop the receiver. 
 Then he heard the Old Man order the helm over — over — 
 over, whirling his arm to emphasize the vital need of put- 
 ting it hard over. A few moments of tense silence, and 
 then, with a roar that nearly split all their ear-dnims, the 
 Polynesian's six-inch anti-raider gun loosed off at nine 
 thousand yards. 
 
 So you must envisage this obscure naval engagement on 
 that brilliant summer day in the green Atlantic. Not a rip- 
 ple to spoil the aim, not a cloud in the sky, as the two gun- 
 ners, their sleeves rolled to the shoulders, their bodies 
 heaving, thrust a fresh shell and cartridge into the breech, 
 shoved in the cap, and swimg the block into place with the 
 soft 'cluck' of steel smeared with vaseline. As the ship 
 veers, the gun is trained steady on the gray dot. Nine 
 thousand and fifty, no deflection — 'Stand away i' There 
 is another roar, and the gunner, who has stood away, now 
 stands with his feet apart, his elbows out, staring with 
 intense concentration through his glasses. 
 
 Down below, the engine-room staff, which included 
 Tommy doing a field-day on the spare generator, were 
 clustered on the starting platform. The expansion links had 
 been opened out full, — any locomotive driver will show 
 you what I mean, — and the Polynesian's engines, four 
 thousand seven hundred horse-power indicated, driven by 
 steam at two hundred pounds to the square inch from her 
 four Scotch boilers, were turning eighty-nine revolutions 
 per minute and making very good going for her, but noth- 
 ing to write home about, when a modern submersible 
 cruiser doing sixteen knots on the surface was pelting after 
 her. The tremendous exj)losions of the six-inch gun dis- 
 couraged conversation. 
 
14 \ I'OHT SAID MIH 1:LI^\NY 
 
 The ("hirf KnpiuHT. a tall nmn with a full chcstimt 
 monsta<*lir aini a stcni rontrinptiKtiis rxpn's-sion Ixirii «if 
 his liatrcd nf >ra-lifi'. was stri<liii^ up an<| ilowu XUc plates. 
 The StHi»ii(l ap|H'an"(l, like Ariel, anniiKJ. alntve, Ik'Iow, 
 intent on sundn* fid^'ets of his own, ami whistlinjj — no- 
 IkmIv knew why. The Fourth wa.s in the .stokehold and 
 hark in the enj^ine-room every ten niinute.s. The Fifth, a.s 
 though he had l>een naughty an<l \va,s In-ing punishe<l hy 
 that stem man with the four gold-and-i)ur])le wings on his 
 sleeve, was sfan<iiiig with his face to the wall, hig rul)l»er 
 navy-i)h<)ne receivers on his ears and his eyes fixed in a 
 nij)t .saintly way on two ground-gla.ss di.scs alnive him, one 
 of which was aglow an<i hore the legend More licvidulion^f. 
 The other, Jyr.s.s Rcn}lutinn,<i, was didl and out of use. So he 
 stocHJ, waiting for verbal orders. 
 
 All the revolutions possible were l>eing supplie<I, for the 
 .«yifetv-valves were lifting with an (Kcasional throatv flut- 
 ter. l'rie\i)eftedly the Se<'ond would ajiin^ir from the 
 tunnel, where he had l)e<'n ftn-ling the stern gland, and 
 wfnild hi>ver lovingly <»ver the thrust-l)l(M-k, whistling, 
 amid the clangor of four thousiind .seven hundred horse- 
 jKJwer, 'Ix)vc me, and the w«»rld is mine.' 
 
 Stiddenly all wa.s swallowed up, engulfed, in one heart- 
 shattering exj)losion on deek. It wius .so tremendous that 
 the Fifth's head involuntarily darted out fr<»m the rtn-eivers 
 and he hntked sharply at the Chief, who was standing 
 sttK-k-still with his hmg legs apart, his hands in Iiis coat 
 jKK-kets, staring «)ver his shoulder with stern intentnes,s 
 into vaeaiiey. The telephone hell liraved out a call and 
 the Fifth fitted his head onee again t«> the re<-eiver. * Yes, 
 sir!* he .sjing <»ut; and then, to the others, 'We'rtr gainin' 
 on lierl \V«''r<' gainin* on her I* Tonuny goes on methodi- 
 ciiWy with his dynamo. lie is close at hand when wantetl, 
 ready, n'sourceful, dev«»id of j»anie. The excitement is on 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 15 
 
 deck, where the shell has struck the house amidships, 
 blowing the galley ranges and bakehouse ovens overboard, 
 killed three men outright, and left two more mere moving 
 horrors on the slaughter-house floor. Another, a scullion, 
 with his hand cut off at the wrist, is running round and 
 round, falling over the wreckage, and pursued by a couple 
 of stewards with bandages and friar's balsam. 
 
 And on that gray dot, now nine thousand five hundred 
 yards astern, there is excitement too, no doubt, for it 
 seems authentic that the Polynesian's third shot hit the 
 forward gun-mounting, and the list caused by this, heavy 
 things slewing over, the damage to the deck, the rupture of 
 certain vital oil-pipes, and the wounds of the crew, would 
 account for the Polynesian, with her fourteen-point-seven 
 knots, gaining on U 999, supposed to have sixteen knots 
 on the surface. 
 
 On the bridge of the Polynesian, too, there is excitement 
 of sorts. The Chief Mate, who has been nishing about, 
 helping the ammimition carriers, then assisting the stew- 
 ards with their rough surgery, then up on the bridge again, 
 has come up and is prancing up and down, every now and 
 then looking hard at the Old Man, who stares through the 
 telescope at the gray dot. 
 
 Something awful had happened. When that shell hit 
 the ship, the Old Man had called out hoarsely, 'That's 
 enough — oh, enough — -boats!' and the Chief INLate, to 
 the horror of the young Third Mate, who told Tonnny 
 about it, grabbed the Old Man round the waist, whirled 
 him into the chart-room, and slannned the door upon them 
 both. The Third jSIate says lie saw, through the window, 
 the Chief Mate's fist half-an-inch from the Old Man's 
 nose, the Old Man looking at it in gloomy silence, and the 
 Chief Mate's eyes nearly jumping out of his head as he 
 argued and threatened and implored. '. . . Gainin' on 
 
If. A I*()IIT SAID .MIS( r.I.L\NY 
 
 her,* was nil tlir Third Mate c<»ul<i hmr, and '. . . For 
 (Mxl'ssakr. sir!" and.siicli-likoslnni^; phni-scs. S) tlu'Tliinl 
 Mate says. And then thoy c-amc (njt af^aiii. and the Male 
 telephoned t<» the cnginc-rooui. 
 
 IV 
 
 The eonipany is dwindling now. for. ns Tommy pnlps his 
 <lrink and orders two more, it is on tlie stn)ke of nine, 
 when the bars close, and folks an* melting pnmp }»y pr<mp 
 into the darkness. S<mie are In.und for home, some for 
 'KJdonido.' a dusty ham where one watches dn'a<iftd melo- 
 dniinatir films and faints with the heat. The lights are 
 turned still lower. The few shops which have Ikmmi oiK-n in 
 a stealthy way now shut nj) close. The n))M)nli;jlit throws 
 sharp l>lue-ltlack shadows on the white dust of the Hue el 
 Nil. The orchestra fades away; chairs are stacked l>etween 
 the tuhs. and reproachful glances are cast uiHin the dozen 
 or so of us who still linj^'cr in the^l(M)m. 
 
 I become aware that Tonuny. in his own cnld lit fie 
 .semi-articulate fjLshion, is n^^ardin^ me as thou^'h he 
 had some extniordinar>' anxiety on his mind. 'I'hat is the 
 way his expn*ssion strikes me. As though he had had some 
 tnMucndous cxjMTii'nce and did n't know what to make of 
 it. I rememlKT seeinj.; something like it in the hict* of a 
 youth, reli^'iously brought up, who was listening for the 
 first time to an atheist attemptinj^ to shake the foundations 
 of his faith. Atid while I ruminate ufMin this umisual i>or- 
 tent in Tommy's pliysio^'uomy, he phmj^es int«) the second 
 part «tf his stor^'. It has its own ap[H>al to those who htvc 
 arul utHJerstand the .sea. 
 
 For the rest <»f the day the Polynesian's cotirse was a 
 scries of intricate convolutions on the face of the Atlantic. 
 .\s the Third .Male ptit it in his livt-ly way, you couM have 
 played it on u piano. Owitig to the wireless n>om iuiving 
 
A PORT SMD IVnSCELLANY 17 
 
 been partially demolished, they were out of touch with 
 the world, and the commander felt lonely. He even re- 
 gretted for a while that he had not retired. Was just going 
 to, when the War came. He was sixty years old, and had 
 been an easygoing skipper for twenty years now. This, — ■ 
 and he wiped his moist face with his handkerchief, — 
 this was n't at all what he had bargained for when he had 
 volunteered to carry on 'for the duration of the War.' 
 Men dead and dying and mutilated, ship torn asunder — 
 He sat on his settee and stared hard at the head and shoul- 
 ders of the man at the wheel, adumbrated on the ground- 
 glass window in front of him. He had turned sick at the 
 sight down there — 
 
 But the Polynesian was still going. Not a bolt, rivet, 
 plate, or rod of her steering and propelling mechanism 
 had been touched, and she was galloping northwest by 
 west at thirteen knots. The commander hoped for a dark 
 night, for in his present perturbed state the idea of being 
 toq)edoed at night was positively horrible. The Brob- 
 dingnagian, now, was hit at midnight and sunk in three 
 minutes with all hands but two. He wiped his face again. 
 He felt that he was n't equal to it. 
 
 It was dark. All night it was dark and moonless. All 
 night they galloped along up-Channel. All night the Old 
 Man walked the bridge, watching the blackness ahead. At 
 four o'clock the Mate came on watch and the Old ISEan 
 felt that he must lie down. He was over sixty years old, 
 remember, and he had been on his feet for eighteen hours. 
 The Chief Mate, who had been strangely shy since his out- 
 rageous behavior, merely remarked that it looked as if it 
 might be thick presently, and began to pace to and fro. 
 
 What hafjpcned, — if anything did happen, — nobody 
 seemed to know; but Tommy, who came off at four, and 
 was enjoying a pipe, a cup of cocoa, and a game of i)alicnce 
 
18 \ I'OUT SAID MISCKI.LANY 
 
 ill Ills rtKun, was MKldmly ihiu^ nulwayH afpiinst liis \var<l- 
 n>lx\ and a srrirs of ^riiidiii^^ cnLslirs. jnic of which sriit hi.s 
 jH)rtlinh* ^\uss in a hur>l <»f fni^'njcnt.s c»vrr his lM'd-pla<t', 
 burklrd the plates «>f the ship's siih*. lie rt* nn'nilH'rr«l that 
 the wardn))>o dttor flrw <)j>en as he sj)rang up, and hii» derliy 
 hat lH)un("cd l«> the fl(K)r. 
 
 He at once skipp<'«l down Ik-Iow, wlicrc ho found the 
 Se<H^)nd and Chief trying to earn*' out a nunil>er of rapid 
 contra<lictor\' orders from the teh'graph. And lus he 
 joined tlieni tlie teh*praph whirled fn»nj Full astern to 
 Statid hi/, and stoi)pe<l. 'i'hey st«M»d liv. Toniiny was told 
 to po and finisii 'changing over.' which involves ojH'iiing 
 and shutting several mysterious valves. Having achieved 
 this, he took up his station l)y the telegraph. 
 
 The Cliicf, <lad in a suit of rumpletl hut elegant i)ink- 
 and-s;ifTron-slriped i)ajanias, pn)wled to and fro in fn)nt 
 of the engines like oneof the larger carnivora in front of his 
 cage. The Second, with the sleeves of his coat rolled up, 
 as if he were a conjuror and wished to show there was no 
 de<-cj)tion. product'd a cigarette from his ear. a match 
 from an inxisihic ledge under the log-desk, and then 
 cau.sed himself to disapjM'ar info the stokehold, whistling 
 a time at one time verj' iM)i)uIar in I)ul)Iin called 'Mick 
 McCiilligan's I)aught<-r Mary Ann.' He returne<l in some 
 mysterious fashion, smoking with much enjoyment, and 
 n'jMjrting greiLser, firemen, and Tommies all gone up on 
 de<k. 
 
 And .so they waite<l, those three. an<l waited. an<l waiti^l; 
 ami the dawn canx' uj), inclTahly tcn«ler, and far up alMi\e 
 tlicm through the skylights they saw the stars thn)Ugh the 
 fog tuni pale, and still there wjis no sign, the telegniph 
 fmger iM)inting, in its nmte jK-remptorj' way, at Stand l>y. 
 Thev were standing l»v. 
 
 An<i at length it gR*w to Ik' past emlunmce. The (Miief 
 
A rORT SAID MISCELLANY 19 
 
 spoke sharply into the telephone. Nothing. Suddenly lie 
 turned and ordered Tommy to go up and see what was do- 
 ing. The Second, coming in from the stokehold, reported 
 water in the cross-bunker, but the doors were down. So 
 Tommy went up the long ladders and out on deck and stood 
 stock still before the great experience of his life. For they 
 were alone on the ship, those three. The boats were gone. 
 There was no sound, save the banging of the empty blocks 
 and the gurgle and slap of the sea against her sides. 
 
 For a moment. Tommy said, he *had no heart.' The 
 sheer simplicity of the tiling unmanned him, as well it 
 might. He had n't words — Gone! Behind the horror lay 
 another horror, and it was the reminiscence of this ulti- 
 mate apprehension that I saw in his face to-night. And 
 then he threw himself backward (a North Country foot- 
 ball trick), turned, and rushed for the ladder. The other 
 two, down below, saw him there, his eyes feverish, his face 
 dark and anxious, his usually low voice harsh and strident, 
 as he prayed them to drop everything and come up quick 
 — come on — and his voice trailed off into huskiness and 
 heavy breathing. 
 
 WTien they came up, which happened immediately, four 
 steps at a time, they found him sprawled against the bul- 
 warks, his chin on his hands, looking as though to fix the 
 scene forever on his brain. And they looked too, and 
 turned faint, for there, far across the darkling sparkle of 
 the sea, were the boats, and on the sky-line a smear of 
 smoke. So they stood, each in a characteristic attitude — 
 Tommy asprawl on the rail, the Second halfway up the 
 bridge-deck ladder, one hand on his hip, the Chief with his 
 hands ])eliind him, his long legs witlely planted, his head 
 well forward, scowling. They were as Tonmiy put it, *in a 
 state.' It was n't, you know, the actual danger: it was the 
 carrying away of their faith in the world of living men. 
 
to \ n'KI -\II» MIM Ll.LANY 
 
 CtoTKl Gfxll Ami I iiim^'iiic the j)rrvniliiif» rrnotion in thrir 
 liciirt.s at tliis iitoniciit wa.s in.stiiirt in the lad's fjiirrj' to 
 roe- — ' Wl>at wa,s the use of ^'<»in* IkkIv, j»r making n lifjht 
 nf it, if that v. is all thry thought of us?' An«l thc-n the 
 Polyiu'sian ntalKMl thnn from siK'<-ulafion.s as to the ulti- 
 mate pn»liity of the liuman miuI liy giving; u sudden lunge 
 fonvani. She was sinking. 
 
 For a uionuMif. Toinniy says, they were 'in a state.* I 
 .should iinapne they were. They l>e^'an running n>und and 
 round the denk, picking up i)ie<ea of \N«K)d and drojjping 
 them in a shamefaced manner. Suddenly the Chief remcni- 
 Ixred the raft- -an unfortunate structure of oil-harrcls 
 and hatches. It was on the foredeik, a frowsy incum- 
 hnnu-c devised by the Mate in a l)ur>t of iiipcuuily against 
 the fatal day. \Vlu'u the three (»f liiem arrived on the fore- 
 deck their hopes sank again. A single glance showed the 
 imiM)ssil)ility of lifting it without steam on the windies. 
 They st<K)d round it and deliKerated in silence, tying on 
 life-l>elt3 which they had picked up on the l)ridge-<leck. 
 The Polynesian pive another lunge, and they climljetl on 
 the raft and iield tight. 
 
 The I'olyne.sian was in her death-throes. She had l>eon 
 cut through below the bridge, and the water was filling 
 tlic cross-l>\uiker and jjn'ssirig the air in Xuniher 2 hold up 
 against the hatches. While tlu'y sat there waiting, the 
 tar])aulins on the hatch l>alI<H>ned up and hurst like a gun- 
 shot, relcjising the air iuipn»vise(i within. She plunged 
 again, and the .s<'a iMiunvi t»\er her hulwark.s and cjuscade<l 
 uround them. The nift slid forward against ii winch, skin- 
 ning the Se<t»nd's h-g again.st a whe<'lguard. They held on. 
 
 Now, it is iM'rfiH-lly .siuiple in tlieory t(» sit on a mft and 
 allow a ship to sink uudi-r Vnu. The ship sinks, and the 
 raft, retiiining its luioyaiic y, ll«»als. (^uile simple, in theorj'. 
 In jjractie«*, however, numy factors tend to vitiate the 
 
A PORT SAID MISCELLANY 21 
 
 simplicity of it. Indeed, it becomes so difficult that only 
 by the mercy of God could anybody attempt it and sur- 
 vive. The fore-deck of the Polynesian was like the fore- 
 deck of most ships, cluttered up with hatch-combings, 
 winches, ventilator-cowls, steampipes, masts, derricks, 
 bollards, snatch-blocks, dead-eyes, ladders, and wire- 
 rope drums. Look forward from the promenade next time 
 you make a trip, and conceive it. As the Polynesian sub- 
 sided, she wallowed. Her centre of gravity was changing 
 every second, and the raft, wnth its three serious passen- 
 gers, was charging to and fro as if it were alive and trying 
 to escape. It carried away a ventilator, and then, for one 
 horrible instant, was caught in the standing rigging and 
 canted over. A rush to starboard released it, and the next 
 moment it was free. Only the windlass on the forecastle- 
 head was now above water forward. 
 
 They saw nothing more of her. Not that she vanished 
 all at once, but the sucking whirlpools in which the raft 
 was turning over and reeling back on them kept them fully 
 occupied. And when at last they had coughed up the sea- 
 water and wiped their eyes and looked at each other as 
 they floated in the gentle swell of a smiling summer sea, 
 she was gone. Only one thing destroyed their peace and 
 stood up before them like a spectre: she was lying at the 
 bottom, with her telegraph at Stand by. The deathless 
 sporting spirit of the race was expressed in these words: 
 'You know, if it had n't been for tliaf, it was a joke, man!' 
 
 The moon rides high over Pelusium as we go back to 
 the ship. Tommy and 1 will keep the morning watch to- 
 gether for once and talk over old times. Tomorrow I shall 
 go through the hot white dust of the Rue el Nil and be 
 paid off in the consul's office for my two years' labor. There 
 is a mail-boat next week, and perhaps I shall board her, 
 passenger-fashion, and go across the blue Mediterranean, 
 
« A IX)IVr SAID MI>( EU.ANY 
 
 through sunny Framv. nrross thr KngliNli ('h;inn«*I. where 
 the I'olynt^siim slaiuls hy fort'vor, up thr«>uj:h Susm'X or- 
 chards nud oviT Surn-y downs. Am<1 iwrliaps, as I idle 
 away thr auttnnn in the dim iM'auty of lh«' K^m-x foiilaiul, 
 and as we tlrive in th<* |>ony-<-art throu^'h thr hmcs, we 
 shall stop and the children will say, 'If you stand up, you 
 can MV the sea.* 
 
 Perhaps. Who knows? 
 
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