The Sea-Wolf

31The Sea-Wolfand open countenance, which frankness or openness was enhanced by the fact that he was smooth-shaven. I could hardly believe—un-til the next incident occurred—that it was the face of a man who could behave as he had behaved to the cabin-boy.At this moment, as he opened his mouth to speak, puff aft er puff struck the schooner and pressed her side under. Th e wind shrieked a wild song through the rigging. Some of the hunters glanced anxiously aloft . Th e lee rail, where the dead man lay, was buried in the sea, and as the schooner lift ed and righted the water swept across the deck wetting us above our shoe-tops. A shower of rain drove down upon us, each drop stinging like a hailstone. As it passed, Wolf Larsen began to speak, the bare-headed men swaying in unison, to the heave and lunge of the deck.“I only remember one part of the service,” he said, “and that is, ‘And the body shall be cast into the sea.’ So cast it in.”He ceased speaking. Th e men holding the hatch-cover seemed perplexed, puzzled no doubt by the briefness of the ceremony. He burst upon them in a fury.“Lift up that end there, damn you! What the hell’s the matter with you?”Th ey elevated the end of the hatch-cover with pitiful haste, and, like a dog fl ung overside, the dead man slid feet fi rst into the sea. Th e coal at his feet dragged him down. He was gone.“Johansen,” Wolf Larsen said briskly to the new mate, “keep all hands on deck now they’re here. Get in the topsails and jibs and make a good job of it. We’re in for a sou’-easter. Better reef the jib and mainsail too, while you’re about it.”In a moment the decks were in commotion, Johansen bellow-ing orders and the men pulling or letting go ropes of various sorts—all naturally confusing to a landsman such as myself. But it was the heartlessness of it that especially struck me. Th e dead man was an episode that was past, an incident that was dropped, in a canvas covering w...