CHAPTER XVIII
HUMANITY REWARDED
Doubtless many of the superior persons, who, like Matthew Arnold, their high priest, have led sheltered lives, will, also like him, curl the lip of scorn at any sorely pressed human creature in his extremity of need lifting his heart in prayer to God for help. Let them do so, if it please them, while they may. For many thousands know most gratefully that prayer is indeed a perfect communication between man and his Maker, and is answered so fully and so frequently as to put all coldly logical or brilliantly poetical objectors entirely out of court. Who, indeed, would accept the evidence of a blind man as to the value of a certain picture, or of a deaf man upon the merits of an oratorio? Therefore,paceMatthew Arnold and his ‘Self Help,’ let me gratefully return to the comforted little company in that sorely bestead whaleboat. In the midst of that wilderness of kelp, with the awful hand of the gale pressing them back from the goal they so sorely desired, they yet felt a security, a peace such as can only accrue to those who, in a like position, know that underneath them are the Everlasting Arms.
Almost literally inch by inch they fought their way seaward. Much as they valued the smooth which the kelp brought them, its hindering environment was terribly wearisome to the humanly limited strength. But doggedly they toiled on, often only half consciously, as squalls of sleet slashedsavagely across their cowering faces and every fresh blast of wind beat at them as if it were the spirit of some malicious demon determined upon their destruction. Suddenly they emerged from the slimy smoothness of the kelp into the free dash of the great waves. And as they did so Mr. Peck, with a great voice, shouted, ‘Now, boys, for y’r lives; out oars an’ pull jest a leetle bit; perhaps we can histe a rag of sail and keep her away a bit presently. That’s it—lift her, lift her; oh, too good, boys, too good, one, two, three; better ’n’ better. I see the ship! She ain’t no distance off. Stick t’ it, me hearties, give ’r all you got—thet’s y’r style.’ In such wise did the fine fellow encourage his men, who were taking the last ounce out of themselves in their desperate fight with the forces of nature. And the passengers cowering in the bottom of the boat heard and saw not, endured dimly, dumbly; until just as it seemed impossible that the overborne sailors could hold out any longer came the glorious cry of ‘Boat ahoy!’ A yell of thankful reply, and the great bulk of the ship materialised out of the darkness. A minute or two of breathless suspense as the boat swung off the wind, and then a blessed sense of security and calm as she surged up under the lee of the grand old tub, where all hands, by the light of the flaring try-works, were awaiting them. Life from the dead, fellow creatures welcomed back from out the gaping jaws of the grave—how glorious a sensation to true men! And when the whisper ran round that some of the saved ones were women there were chokings and dim eyes among these rough-looking but tender-hearted fellows, although comments were mostly limited to thecommonplace expression, ‘Poor things, poor things.’
Safely on board, and the boat hoisted into her place, Captain Hampden whispered an order to his mate to keep all the southing he could so as to get well clear of that awful pile of rock, still much too near for comfort. Then with a courtly old-world grace he led the way to his cabin, and begged his strangely shipped passengers to make themselves at home. The three quaint little figures revealed themselves as ladies—young, but haggard with anxiety and privation. Alone in the world, too. For the story of the lost ship from which they had escaped was just this, so bald and simple, yet so full of pathos to the imaginative mind. She was a huge four-master, with splendid passenger accommodation, bound for Australia, and specially recommended as affording a grand opportunity for a perfect sea trip for consumptives. So thirty poor wrecks of humanity, but possessing money enough to buy a chance of life, availed themselves of the opportunity, for, after all, the fare was much lower than in a fast steamer, and the attendance likely to be much better. But the crew! What agony the Captain endured as he found that sailing-ships were in such bad odour that men could not be obtained—that if he would get to sea at all he must needs ship men who hardly knew a cringle from a scupper-hole. However, this is one of the penalties a man must pay to-day when working his way up in a sailing-ship prior to taking charge in steam. And Captain Weston paid it. Running the easting down, he found his handful of wastrels not merely incompetent, but afraid—a poor group of fellows whom no threats or bribes could make do their duty, while hehad upon his heart the helpless passengers. So he ran her, recklessly as it appeared, really because he could do nothing else, and strained his heartstrings nightly as he looked up through the blackness at those great sails, and wondered whatwouldhappen should they blow away, for to take them in he knew was impossible.
Is it fair to put such a strain upon one man as this? I do not think so, yet most captains of our big sailing-ships must shoulder such a burden to-day, and for, at most, £200 a year. No wonder the Mercantile Marine is unpopular. Captain Weston endured his load almost helplessly in view of the season and the quality of his crew; and when, while snatching a few moments’ sleep in his chart-room, he felt his ship go over, over, over, until on her beam ends, and knew that she had broached-to in the height of one of the southern gales, he gave a sigh almost of relief as knowing the worst. Out of the half-dozen boats he carried one succeeded in getting away with three ladies on board, whose charges, a consumptive father, uncle, and sweetheart, were practically killed by the shock. There were also two male passengers, the mate, and four seamen. And these were all the survivors of that awful mid-sea catastrophe, when a great ship, through bad steering, was thrown on her beam ends and, her decks bursting, sank like a broken cup in the midst of that lonely ocean.
For two days the surviving boat and her miserable freight managed to keep ahead of the hungry, following sea, until, inthe blackness of the third night, when hope was well-nigh dead, she entered the kelp fringing Gough Island, and after a series of hairbreadth escapes the whole party succeeded in landing upon its frowning shores. There, for nearly three months, they had maintained life in semi-savage fashion, wondering whether they were doomed to spend the rest of their days there, when help came in the shape of the hardly besetXiphias, and they were once more restored to a little world of living people.
With a sigh Captain Hampden bore up for Cape Town. It was much out of his way, and, besides, he was so far to the southward that it would be difficult to make the port, especially in such a sluggish old craft. But the idea of carrying those poor ladies on to the Mauritius, which was the only place that lay anywhere near his track whence they could be shipped home, was not to be thought of for one moment. And having decided upon what to do, he did it with all his heart, allowing no one to see what a struggle it had cost him. All sail was made, therefore, and the course set for Cape Town, the rescued mate and his four shipmates taking a vigorous part in the handling of the ship, so that theXiphias’crew could finish their heavy task of securing the oil from their previous catch.
She was a mighty busy ship, as well as a happy one, for there was so much to do with the two and a half tons of baleen secured, after the oil was all stored below, that no one had any time of leisure. This peculiar substance—‘whalebone,’ as we have agreed to call it—is really of the nature of dried gristle or soft horn, and when it is green—i.e., newly taken from the whale—it needs constant care andlabour in scraping, drying in the sun, and other trade treatment. Without this it soon becomes valueless, and, since it is so high-priced when properly cured, it is obviously the most important duty on a whaleship to attend to it. But this duty tries the patience of all hands most sorely. In the present case, however, there were compensations. For, in the first place, Captain Hampden was not the man to keep his crew at other work all day and scraping, &c., whalebone all night; and, secondly, a cheery whisper ran round the ship that he (the old man) intended landing the stuff at Cape Town for transhipment to market.
And then, to the great joy of the crew and the unbounded chagrin of the passengers, the ship ran one morning at daybreak into the midst of a vast school of sperm-whales, extending from one horizon to the other. Their numbers no man could calculate, any more than what stupendous stores of food must be necessary to feed such an army of monsters. Captain Hampden’s heart glowed with thankfulness that he had been by humanity turned thus far out of his intended course, and, in obedience to his newly born instinct, went away into a corner by himself and lifted up his heart, not merely in gratitude to God, but for wisdom, after all these years of experience, to do just the right thing in the manipulation of this great store so lavishly spread before him. It only took a minute or two (how simply and quickly can we prefer our petitions and praises to the King of kings), and he was back again among his men, the guiding, ruling spirit of all. As if his plan of campaign had been laid out a week ahead,he apportioned to each officer his place in the coming struggle, took advantage of the presence of the passenger mate and four seamen to give them the handling of the vessel, and then gaily took the field himself with five boats, skipper leading.
It was an ideal day, the great sun just rising from the smooth ocean bed into an absolutely clear sky—clear from clouds, that is, but splashed with all the splendid colours of a tropical dawn, the glassy undulating sea-surface broken in all directions by the lolling masses of the sea monsters, each lazily exhaling his or her bushy tuft of vapour. Occasionally the heavenly silence was broken by a playful rush of a dozen or so of these colossal forms in some given direction, making the placid sea foam and curdle around their massive bodies as if it had suddenly met some newly risen rocks. Or a few sedate bulls would gravely invert themselves, and as if by a concerted movement slowly beat upon the sea with their great flukes, the gigantic strokes reverberating along the silent surface like the echoes of a distant cannonade.
Yes, they were a happy, placid company, recking not of evil, least of all apparently of the presence of those five small white things that, a hundred fathoms or so apart, were coming gliding among them, each with cruel points protruding from its front and glittering fiercely in the rays of the mounting sun. And before any attempt at flight could be made by one member of that great company, the five boats were among them, each boat had singled out the largest victim near (for so had run the Captain’s orders), and the slaughter had begun. Now while it is undoubtedlytrue that the sperm-whale is brave and will under ordinary circumstances fight for his life with a fury and sagacity not to be excelled by those of any mammal afloat or ashore, it is also quite true that occasionally, especially in large companies like the present one, sperm-whales will become panic-stricken, and, making not the slightest attempt either to fight or flee, will suffer themselves to be slain like a flock of silly sheep when the wolf leaps into the fold among them. The present was one of those occasions. Harpoons flew and lances flashed, the boats rode easily, hardly moving in any direction amid closely packed squads of utterly demoralised whales, and the sea speedily became foul with blood and oil. It needed all the skipper’s power of command to call his men off, frantic as they were with the lust of killing, which overtakes the gentlest and most amiable of mankind once the first shudder of compunction has been overcome. But Captain Hampden’s cool judgment realised that already—only one hour from lowering—sufficient work had been provided to last all hands, work as they would, until the odour of their spoil would become utterly intolerable, which is the principal drawback in sperm-whaling to taking full advantage of such an opportunity as the present one.
Reluctantly the boats drew each to her prey, unwillingly the officers ceased plying their lances among the aimlessly wandering monsters, and there amid lanes of coming and going whales they laboured to attach their tow-lines to dead whale flukes, while the Captain, returning on board, took charge of his ship again, and aided by a gentle southerly breezethat had just sprung up, manœuvred her around in order to secure the spoil. It was a wonderful sight when all the great carcasses had been secured alongside to see the assembled hundreds—maybe thousands—of survivors surrounding the ship as if held there by some dread fascination they were unable to resist. Usually the sight or scent or presence of blood is sufficient to send them fleeing at the top of their speed to the four airts; but now was one of the exceptions, and in the clear sleeky water around the ship their vast bodies rolled and turned without apparent objective, until one of the passengers was fain to ask the skipper whether he did not think they were meditating an attack in force upon her. Captain Hampden laughed loud and long, for he had several times been privileged to witness a similar scene, and he knew that no more danger was to be apprehended from the presence of all those whales than there was from the coming of the thousands of sharks that in all the fury of their ravenous hunger were already tearing at the mighty carcasses secured to the ship.
Again was that ship’s company involved in the most tremendous toil, but better fitted than before by experience, and unhindered by the awful prospect of imminent death by their vessel being dashed ashore. Moreover, the weather was beautifully fine as well as mild, the barometer stood steadily high, the sea was as smooth as it ever is in 35° S., and there were seven willing additional hands. All the more willing because the skipper assured them that as soon as ever the cutting-in was accomplished he would make sail again for Cape Town, and that thissplendid accession to his profits for the voyage would only hinder their progress for at most a couple of days. A ship’s company all in the highest spirits, working as if their very lives depended upon the amount they did, with never a harsh word spoken; every man, seaman or officer, bubbling over with cheerfulness and good temper, and seven splendid auxiliaries joining their forces as if the whole affair was a gigantic piece of fun. It was too. For as the capture of the whales had been the easiest on record for sperm-whales, the whole seven taken having been slain in less than one hour, so the weather was as perfect as the most exacting desire could make it. The little southerly breeze that had been so valuable in the getting of the spoil alongside had died completely away, and the only movement of the vessel, hardly noticeable, was due to an almost imperceptible westerly swell. As Mr. Pease said, ‘Anybody ’d think we wuz ridin’ snug in some harbour.’
As the weather was so propitious, every effort was directed at first to getting the whales beheaded, and the strange spectacle was to be witnessed of men hacking away at those great masses below them from little stages slung all round the ship, wherever a whale’s head could be got at comprehensively. And all this to such good purpose that by sunset, although the men were not over-fatigued, the whole of the seven heads were off and floating astern at the ends of stout ropes, and one whale had been skinned and his blubber carefully stowed below. A perfect illumination of the ship by means of cressets was devised, each of which, slung where it could be of the most service, was kept supplied with whale ‘scrap,’or the blubber from preceding whales, from which as much oil had been boiled as possible. This is the only fuel used for boiling the oil, and as it blazes almost like a Lucigen light it makes a splendid illuminant as well. Besides, the glorious moon, a huge disc of blazing silver, made the night bright, enough to read quite small print—so bright, indeed, that although there was not a trace of cloud or mist, the pretty stars were hardly visible. So as soon as the well-earned supper was eaten a system was devised whereby ten men and two officers at a time should have two hours’ sleep, there being then quite sufficient to handle the windlass and rip off the blubber.
Then the great night’s work began. The rattling of the windlass pawls was incessant; there seemed to be no pause in the steady ascent of the great black-and-white blankets, and the shouting of orders, the cheerful gabble, and the roaring of the fires made a most pleasant tumult. In the midst of it all, after midnight, a voice was heard across the sea shouting, ‘Ship ahoy! Want any assistance?’ Mr. Pease, in charge at the time, roared back, ‘No; why?’ ‘Thought ye was on fire. I’ll send a boat on board.’ And sure enough from a trim frigate, which had stolen up by the aid of the light upper airs, came a boat, full of sorely puzzled men, who had never witnessed a scene like it in their lives, and, having witnessed it, would never be likely to forget it. It was only by the most careful piloting and obedience to the instructions shouted at them from the deck of the whaler that the boat was able to pick her way among those floating masses; but, that difficulty successfullyovercome, the officer in charge leaped on to the rail and stood gazing with wide-eyed wonder upon the deck. For, do what they would, the hardly pressed toilers had been unable to stow more than the blubber from two whales in the blubber-room, so that the blankets of three others were encumbering the deck and making it, to anybody but a whaleman, almost impassable.
The visitor clambered aft and introduced himself to Captain Hampden, newly awakened, as a lieutenant of H.M.S.Griffon, and apologised for intrusion, saying that he, with all the rest of his ship’s company, could not help but believe that they were coming in the nick of time to the assistance of a vessel on fire. But he added, while he was glad to find that not the case, he was delighted to have had the opportunity of gazing upon such a scene, which his wildest dreams of sea-happenings had never before pictured. Then the skipper gave him the news of the rescue, and asked if it would be agreeable to have the passengers transferred. This, however, they themselves demurred to, feeling no doubt that such an opportunity as now presented itself for gaining experience was not to be lightly given up; and, besides, they found that there would be no saving of time, as the warship was bound to Ascension. So, after a hearty shake hands all round, the gallant officer swung himself over the rail and departed, primed with material for yarns for years to come.
That night passed with almost the rapidity of a sound sleep, but its hours had been so well utilised that when the lovelymorning broke and gilded the haggard faces of the toilers, all the carcasses had been disposed of and the great heads were ranged alongside ready for dissection. Now these whales, though large, were by no means of the largest, and therefore it occurred to the skipper to test his lifting-gear to the utmost. So he had the ‘junk’ or snout point of the first cut off, hoisted on deck, and secured; then, hooking both tackles on to the remainder of the head, all hands buckled on to the windlass, and, although the old vessel listed dangerously, succeeded in bringing the great mass on deck. Now for activity. A long rip fore and aft the case; ten willing hands dipping their buckets at once into the reservoir of spermaceti. Plenty more behind passing it away into the tanks. Wonderful! In twenty minutes it is empty, and at a word from the skipper as the ship rolls to starboard, two or three swift spade blows release the empty head and it slides massively into the sea. Hurrah! Now for another. Will these men never tire? Apparently not. But the skipper’s brow is knotted with care. Receptacles for the bland spermaceti, semi-liquid as it is, are beginning to fail. ‘Cooper, what shall we do? Tanks are all full. Kain’t ye git us some pipes?’ ‘Gimme three hands, sir, ’n’ I’ll git y’ all yew want.’ ‘Bully fur you, cooper. Jim, Rube, Manuel, go with the cooper and help him.’ And in half-an-hour two 336-gallon pipes are ready to receive the rest of the spermaceti: the difficulty is met.
FourP.M.sees theXiphiasso utterly blocked from knight-heads to cabin skylight with blubber that the passenger seamen look solemnly at one another and wonder what will be the end of it all. They do not know how recently this crowd havedisposed of an almost similar difficulty, with an awful shore grinning up at them from close a-lee. A faint westerly breeze springs up, the passengers are asked if they will make sail, and as they gladly assent, away goes the grand old tub under every stitch, smoking like two or three steamers rolled into one, and leaving behind her a wide wake of smoothness from exuding oil—for she is fast becoming more like an oil-saturated sponge than a ship. But nothing daunts her crew. They are happy. Visions of a glorious ending of their voyage, of farms bought, and a position among their stay-at-home neighbours proudly pre-eminent, fill their minds and make them call up the last ounce of energy to cut a horse-piece or turn the mincer-handle when they have felt for the last half-hour that it was impossible to put in another stroke.
These visions come to all but Rube. For of him it may truly be said that he lives in the present. The past has no memories for him, the future no anticipation. To all the cheery chatter of his shipmates anent their plans for the future he turns a disinterested ear. When they say, ‘Wutyougoin’ t’ do, Rube ole man, w’en yew gits home?’ he replies solemnly, ‘Only God knows. I ain’t got no plans. I want Him to ’range things fur me, then I know they’ll be all right. Anyhow, I know I kain’t be any happier than I am ’mong yew dear fellers—I never thought ’t would be possible t’ be so happy ’s I am naow. But, dear chaps, ef I wuz yew I wouldn’t go buildin’ too many castles. Y’ see at fust, yew know, they’re only castles in th’ air, but ef yew go on buildin’ an’ buildin’, bimeby they gets t’ be so real t’ yew thet w’en yew finds ’at yew kain’t build ’em indeed, th’disappointment is awful.’ So he talked, and, good-naturedly, they bantered him. And meanwhile the great work was being well done; so well done that two days before they entered Table Bay, and passing close under Robben Island, anchored well clear of the mail steamers’ track into the harbour, the last trace of foulness was removed from the old ship—she looked clean as a ship should look. She did not smell sweet, but that, alas! could not be helped. In those warm climates it is only possible to avoid bad smells in a whaler that has no luck, and theXiphiascertainly had redeemed her apparent bad luck at last; for she had only been out seven months, and now she had on board 800 barrels of sperm oil and 550 right-whale oil, besides two and a half tons of baleen, so that her catch at the market price of that day may be invoiced thus:—
An ideal trip so far, and yielding even to the poor holder of the 250th lay, a comfortable sum of £51 8s.= $256·50, of course subject to deduction for slops, tobacco, advance, &c.