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Authors: Rudolph Wurlitzer
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tossed them high in the air, then knelt to study the patterns they formed on the sand.
She was owned, he told her. But not by a man. She was owned by a curse.
Impatiently, the Count took her arm. "Are you coming, or do you prefer the company of a savage?"
When she hesitated he stomped after the others, all of whom - except for Zebulon, who had remained behind - were already halfway to the lifeboat.
"Would you consider abandoning the ship?" she asked, only half-joking.
"Not hardly," Zebulon replied. "Not when there's gold to be found."
The Negro, who had been watching their exchange, nodded abruptly to Delilah, then walked back over the dune with the Seminoles.
ebulon and Delilah were in the lifeboat and halfway back to The Rhinelander when the Negro reappeared on top of the dune.
Bending a long bow, he shot an arrow in a high arc towards them, a flight that missed the lifeboat by less than a foot.
EBULON LAY ON HIS BUNK LISTENING TO THE SHOUTS OF men climbing into the rigging. Hours later, the ship under full sail, he heard sounds coming from the next cabin; they were sonorous and melancholy chords from an instrument he had never heard before. As he listened, he remembered the shape of Delilah's ankles and the slow sway of her broad hips as she stepped out of the lifeboat.
That night at dinner she was sitting next to the Count at the end of a rectangular oak table supported at each corner by ropes hanging from the ceiling. The Captain sat in the middle of the table, expounding on his favorite topic: the world's obsession with gold at the expense of freedom and happiness.
"Gold is a curse," the Captain pronounced, "a dangerous mistress seducing everything in her path. I am now on my third voyage to California. Going there is always hope fueled by addiction and greed. Returning, all is loss and desolation."
Most of the passengers were no longer listening, having heard this speech all the way across the Atlantic and into the Caribbean.
The Captain shifted his focus to Zebulon, who represented, among other curiosities, a new ear. "I understand that you have been in California, Mister Shook. I'm curious why you have chosen to return?"
"I guess you might say that my bucket sprang a leak."
"And now you are returning to fill your bucket?"
Zebulon nodded, his eyes gazing through a porthole at flakes of green phosphorous dancing across a black sheen of water.
"Gold is a blessing that provides the fuel that creates transportation and business," offered Artemis Stebbins, the New York Journalist. "There's never been anything remotely like it in the entire history of the world. Thank god that this country is on a gold standard!"
"A blessing that will produce its share of casualties," the Captain added.
"The price we must pay," said Cox.
"I am happy to pay," the Finn said. "I want to be rich."
"If we don't risk, we die," added the Polish merchant.
"My brother and me, we have tried once before, and now we try again," said Heinrich, the oldest of the German merchants. "Otherwise what? Sell fancy shoes and women under-wears?"
"There are those who would agree with you," the Captain observed: "businessmen, preachers, doctors, soldiers, criminals. Good men and bad, all running from their past. To what end? To die of cholera or be scalped or shot or driven mad with no one to say prayers over their unmarked graves. Why? I will tell you why: greed. Nothing else."
He looked around the table. "I sleep at night because I have chosen this ship to be my prison. Because of that choice, I am free."
"You are stupid," Heinrich said. "We are here. Where else are we? We go on. No one knows what will happen."
"Nothing ever moves in a straight line," the Count said, "even if man must be convinced that it does. Otherwise, he has no hope."
"Hope?" The Captain lit a cigar, pleased, finally, to be engaged in a stimulating conversation. "Man is not a shark, always moving forward. He goes backward. He holds his ground. By changing
She was owned, he told her. But not by a man. She was owned by a curse.
Impatiently, the Count took her arm. "Are you coming, or do you prefer the company of a savage?"
When she hesitated he stomped after the others, all of whom - except for Zebulon, who had remained behind - were already halfway to the lifeboat.
"Would you consider abandoning the ship?" she asked, only half-joking.
"Not hardly," Zebulon replied. "Not when there's gold to be found."
The Negro, who had been watching their exchange, nodded abruptly to Delilah, then walked back over the dune with the Seminoles.
ebulon and Delilah were in the lifeboat and halfway back to The Rhinelander when the Negro reappeared on top of the dune.
Bending a long bow, he shot an arrow in a high arc towards them, a flight that missed the lifeboat by less than a foot.
EBULON LAY ON HIS BUNK LISTENING TO THE SHOUTS OF men climbing into the rigging. Hours later, the ship under full sail, he heard sounds coming from the next cabin; they were sonorous and melancholy chords from an instrument he had never heard before. As he listened, he remembered the shape of Delilah's ankles and the slow sway of her broad hips as she stepped out of the lifeboat.
That night at dinner she was sitting next to the Count at the end of a rectangular oak table supported at each corner by ropes hanging from the ceiling. The Captain sat in the middle of the table, expounding on his favorite topic: the world's obsession with gold at the expense of freedom and happiness.
"Gold is a curse," the Captain pronounced, "a dangerous mistress seducing everything in her path. I am now on my third voyage to California. Going there is always hope fueled by addiction and greed. Returning, all is loss and desolation."
Most of the passengers were no longer listening, having heard this speech all the way across the Atlantic and into the Caribbean.
The Captain shifted his focus to Zebulon, who represented, among other curiosities, a new ear. "I understand that you have been in California, Mister Shook. I'm curious why you have chosen to return?"
"I guess you might say that my bucket sprang a leak."
"And now you are returning to fill your bucket?"
Zebulon nodded, his eyes gazing through a porthole at flakes of green phosphorous dancing across a black sheen of water.
"Gold is a blessing that provides the fuel that creates transportation and business," offered Artemis Stebbins, the New York Journalist. "There's never been anything remotely like it in the entire history of the world. Thank god that this country is on a gold standard!"
"A blessing that will produce its share of casualties," the Captain added.
"The price we must pay," said Cox.
"I am happy to pay," the Finn said. "I want to be rich."
"If we don't risk, we die," added the Polish merchant.
"My brother and me, we have tried once before, and now we try again," said Heinrich, the oldest of the German merchants. "Otherwise what? Sell fancy shoes and women under-wears?"
"There are those who would agree with you," the Captain observed: "businessmen, preachers, doctors, soldiers, criminals. Good men and bad, all running from their past. To what end? To die of cholera or be scalped or shot or driven mad with no one to say prayers over their unmarked graves. Why? I will tell you why: greed. Nothing else."
He looked around the table. "I sleep at night because I have chosen this ship to be my prison. Because of that choice, I am free."
"You are stupid," Heinrich said. "We are here. Where else are we? We go on. No one knows what will happen."
"Nothing ever moves in a straight line," the Count said, "even if man must be convinced that it does. Otherwise, he has no hope."
"Hope?" The Captain lit a cigar, pleased, finally, to be engaged in a stimulating conversation. "Man is not a shark, always moving forward. He goes backward. He holds his ground. By changing
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