Chapter Five.A Calm.It was a lovely dawn the morning after the storm in the Bay of Biscay.Even Mr Adams, plain, matter-of-fact, simple, and unsympathetic sailor as he was, without a particle of poetry or imagination about him, could not but gaze with admiration at the glory of God’s handiwork, as he noticed the grand panorama of change that marked the progress from darkness to light, from night to day!Soon after his watch began, the twinkling stars had gone to rest, putting out their tiny lanterns, as they had arisen, one be one; and now, the violet blue of the firmament paled gradually into sea-green and grey, soft neutral tints mixed on the great palette of Nature to receive the roseate hue that presently illumined the whole eastern sky, heralding the approach of the glorious orb of day. Next, streaks of light salmon-coloured clouds shot across the horizon, their edges decorated with a fringe of gold that gleamed brighter and more intense each moment, the water glowing beneath the reflection as if wakening into life: and then, the majestic sun stepping up from his ocean bed—all radiant—“like a bridegroom out of his chamber,” and moving with giant strides higher and higher up the heavens, as if “anxious to run his course,” and make up for the lost time of the night—shone through the transparent purple mist of the morning like a blush rose behind a glittering veil of dewdrops!By the time the breakfast hour arrived—“eight bells”—the blue sea was dancing merrily in the sunshine, the waves calming down to only a crisping curl of their foam-flecked summits, and theNancy Bellwas speeding along under a pile of canvas fore and aft from deck to truck, Mr Adams having made good use of his time while others were sleeping to get up the spare topgallant-mast forward and set all the upper sail he could; so the passengers, roused up to new life by the cheery influence of the bright summer day, coming after all the gloom and misery and storm and tempest of the past, mustered round the cuddy table in full force.Mr Meldrum and the American were there as a matter of course; but, by the side of her father, on the right of the skipper, appeared now for the first time at the table since the ship had left port, the graceful form of Kate Meldrum accompanied by the slighter figure of Florry, supported on the other side of the table by Mrs Major Negus and her young hopeful; while Mr Adams faced Captain Dinks—it being the chief mate’s turn of duty on deck—having brave Frank Harness close alongside.They formed a very joyous coterie altogether, and enjoyed themselves all the more from their natural revulsion of spirits after all the discomfort and misery they had passed through, Captain Dinks himself setting an example and provoking the merry laughter of the girls with his absurd jokes, although the young ladies seemed brimful of fun, especially Miss Florry, who the skipper said might make a good match for mischievousness with Master Negus—whereat a grim smile was seen to steal across the face of “the Major,” lightening up her sallow countenance and making her “come out in new colours.”As for Mr Zachariah Lathrope, he was too busy with the ham and eggs to do much talking; although, like the monkeys, he probably thought the more, for ever and anon he would pass encomiums on the viands and pass up his plate for a fresh helping, the steward having enough to do in supplying his wants quickly enough.After breakfast, a visit was paid to “Snowball,” the darkey Stowaway, who was found much better and progressing so favourably that the captain ordered his removal to the “fokesail,” to complete his convalescence; which it may be here added he satisfactorily accomplished in a few days, when he was installed in the galley as cook, in the place of a Maltese sailor who was glad to get forward again before the mast. The negro had slept continually from the time he had been released from durance vile in the after-hold, neither the racket below nor the turmoil on deck during the storm having disturbed his slumbers. This, no doubt, had hastened his recovery, for Mr McCarthy was positive that three of his ribs at least had been broken.“Why is Snowball like a worm, Miss Meldrum?” said Captain Dinks to Kate, after telling her that he intended installing the darkey in the galley as cook; “do you know, eh!”“Oh, if that’s a conundrum, captain,” replied she with a piquant laugh that lit up her whole face, making it quite beautiful, Frank Harness thought, “I give it up at once. I’m a bad hand at guessing riddles.”“Well, you see,” said Captain Dinks, with that cheery “ho, ho!” of a laugh of his, which always preceded any of his good things, “the worm or grub develops into the butterfly; but Snowball made the butter fly when he tumbled over that cask in the steerage, and now he is going to develop into the grub line and turn cook!”“That’s too bad!” said Kate laughing. “I never heard a worse sort of pun in my life.”“Then it’s all the better, my dear,” replied he; and as everybody else laughed too, they possibly shared the captain’s opinion.After this, there was a move on deck—not before it was needed perhaps!At noon, Captain Dinks, after manipulating his sextant and adjusting the sights, seemed to be much longer taking his observation than usual; and when he went below to his cabin to work out the reckoning he certainly remained a most unconscionable time.By and by, however, he came up the companion again, his face beaming with delight.“What do you think, Mr Meldrum?” said he, somewhat excitedly, to that gentleman, who, along with the remainder of the saloon party, was standing on the poop leaning over the taffrail to windward, looking over the apparently limit less expanse of water, that stretched away to the horizon, and basking in the sunshine, which was tempered by a mellow breeze that seemed just sufficient to keep the sails of theNancy Bellfull—and that was all.“I’m sure I can’t say,” replied Mr Meldrum good-humouredly. “Found another ghost in the cabin, eh?”“No, no; couldn’t have two in one voyage,” said the skipper.“Made another conundrum?” again inquired the other slily, poking fun at the captain’s previous attempt in the riddle line.“Oh, no,” said Captain Dinks, laughing out at this. “That was too good to be repeated: I’ve got better news than that, Mr Meldrum—something really to surprise you!”“I’m all attention,” said Mr Meldrum, “but pray do not keep us long in suspense. Don’t you see we’re all anxious!”“Why,” exclaimed Captain Dinks triumphantly, “theNancy Bellhas made nearly five degrees of latitude since I last took the sun, there!”“Oh dear!” said Florry ruefully; “I thought you were going to tell us something funny!” and she looked so disappointed that Kate laughed at her and Master Maurice Negus grinned; whereupon Florry, in a pet, smacked the young gentleman’s face, for which she was reproved by her father and ordered below, although the sentence of banishment was remitted later on at Mrs Major Negus’s especial request.This little interlude over, the captain proceeded with his explanation.“Yes,” said he, “we’re now in latitude 44 degrees 56 minutes north, and longitude 9 degrees 42 minutes west; so that we’ve run pretty close on four hundred miles since yesterday at noon. Just think of that, now!”“A pretty good distance,” said Mr Meldrum; “but, you must recollect we had the gale to drive us on.”“Aye, sorr,” said Mr McCarthy, joining in the conversation, “and didn’t it droive us too! Begorrah, there was some times that the wind tuck the ship clane out of the wather and carried us along in the air like one of them flying-fish you’ll say when we gits down to the line!”“It was fortunate it was in our favour,” observed the captain reflectively. “We couldn’t have tried to beat against it; and, heavily-laden as we are, it would have been madness to have tried to lay-to!”“You’re right,” said Mr Meldrum, “and it was equally fortunate that the gale carried us so far and no further! Another twelve hours of it and we would have been high and dry ashore on the Spanish coast.”“I think you’re not far out,” replied the captain, scratching his head and pondering over the matter, “for we’ll only just shave past Cape Finisterre now keeping our course; and if we hadn’t made so much westing when we got out of the Channel I don’t know where we should have been!”“Faix and it was grumbling at it you were all the toime, cap’en!” said McCarthy with a knowing wink; “though you do now say it was all for the best, as the man said when they buried his wife’s grandmother!”“Aye, you’re right,” said Captain Dinks more seriously, “all is for the best, if we could only know it at the time!”Thenceforward, the weather kept fine; and the fates seemed favourable to theNancy Bellin her pilgrimage across the sea.There was no lack of incident in the voyage, however.One day, about a week after they had bidden farewell to the Bay of Biscay with all its terrors and troubled waters, as the ship was approaching that region of calms which lies adjacent to the Tropic of Cancer, her rate of progression had grown so “small by degrees and beautifully less,” that she barely drifted southward with the current, until at length she came to a dead stop, so far as those on board could judge, lying motionless on the surface of the water “like a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” as the situation is described in Coleridge’sAncient Mariner.Round about the vessel, dolphins disported themselves, and “Portuguese men-of-war” floated over the sea with their gelatinous sails unfurled, and everything seemed lazy and enjoyable to the passengers—although the captain and crew did not evidently relish the state of inaction which the calm brought about, for they were looking out in all quarters for the wished-for wind.Not a ship was in sight—nothing happening to break the peaceful repose of the deep for hours.The captain was “having a stretch” below; the men snoozing away on the deck forwards in all sorts of odd corners; the officer of the watch blinking as he squinted aloft to see if the dog-vane stirred with any passing breath of air; even the steersman was nodding over the helm, as the wheel rotated round to port or starboard as it listed, according as the ship rose or fell on the long heavy rolling swell that undulated over the bosom of the deep; and most of the passengers were in the same somnolent state—when all at once an event occurred that soon broke the monotony of the afternoon, waking up the sleepy ones to fresh vitality, for an object of interest had at last arisen in the uneventful day sufficient for the moment to enchain their attention.The listless lotus eaters had to thank Master Negus for the excitement, in the first instance.That young gentleman was possessed of a keen desire for knowledge, which his more prosaic seniors were in the habit of misconstruing, deeming it to arise, as they said, from an insatiable and impertinent curiosity combined with an inherent love of mischief. Be that as it may, this desire for knowledge on Master Maurice’s part frequently led him into places where, to put it delicately, his presence was undesirable in many ways; his love for investigation taking him especially to certain dangerous localities whither he was peremptorily forbidden to go both by his mother and the captain.Among such tabooed spots in the ship was the forecastle; and here, consequently, as a matter of course, Master Maurice most delighted to steal away when neither the maternal eye of Mrs Major Negus was upon him nor any of the other people aft were watching him. He did not mind the sailors, for they made a point of encouraging him forward and took much pleasure in developing his propensities for mischief.This afternoon, he was enjoying himself after the desire of his heart-climbing about the rigging in a way that would have made his mother faint, when, in one of his scrambles up to the foretop, he saw something in the water which was hidden from the sight of the others on board, through the head-sails of the ship shutting out their line of view.“Oh, crickey,” shouted out Master Negus at the top of his voice, at once betraying his whereabouts in his excitement, “there’s a fight going on in the water, and two whales are leathering each other like fun!”
It was a lovely dawn the morning after the storm in the Bay of Biscay.
Even Mr Adams, plain, matter-of-fact, simple, and unsympathetic sailor as he was, without a particle of poetry or imagination about him, could not but gaze with admiration at the glory of God’s handiwork, as he noticed the grand panorama of change that marked the progress from darkness to light, from night to day!
Soon after his watch began, the twinkling stars had gone to rest, putting out their tiny lanterns, as they had arisen, one be one; and now, the violet blue of the firmament paled gradually into sea-green and grey, soft neutral tints mixed on the great palette of Nature to receive the roseate hue that presently illumined the whole eastern sky, heralding the approach of the glorious orb of day. Next, streaks of light salmon-coloured clouds shot across the horizon, their edges decorated with a fringe of gold that gleamed brighter and more intense each moment, the water glowing beneath the reflection as if wakening into life: and then, the majestic sun stepping up from his ocean bed—all radiant—“like a bridegroom out of his chamber,” and moving with giant strides higher and higher up the heavens, as if “anxious to run his course,” and make up for the lost time of the night—shone through the transparent purple mist of the morning like a blush rose behind a glittering veil of dewdrops!
By the time the breakfast hour arrived—“eight bells”—the blue sea was dancing merrily in the sunshine, the waves calming down to only a crisping curl of their foam-flecked summits, and theNancy Bellwas speeding along under a pile of canvas fore and aft from deck to truck, Mr Adams having made good use of his time while others were sleeping to get up the spare topgallant-mast forward and set all the upper sail he could; so the passengers, roused up to new life by the cheery influence of the bright summer day, coming after all the gloom and misery and storm and tempest of the past, mustered round the cuddy table in full force.
Mr Meldrum and the American were there as a matter of course; but, by the side of her father, on the right of the skipper, appeared now for the first time at the table since the ship had left port, the graceful form of Kate Meldrum accompanied by the slighter figure of Florry, supported on the other side of the table by Mrs Major Negus and her young hopeful; while Mr Adams faced Captain Dinks—it being the chief mate’s turn of duty on deck—having brave Frank Harness close alongside.
They formed a very joyous coterie altogether, and enjoyed themselves all the more from their natural revulsion of spirits after all the discomfort and misery they had passed through, Captain Dinks himself setting an example and provoking the merry laughter of the girls with his absurd jokes, although the young ladies seemed brimful of fun, especially Miss Florry, who the skipper said might make a good match for mischievousness with Master Negus—whereat a grim smile was seen to steal across the face of “the Major,” lightening up her sallow countenance and making her “come out in new colours.”
As for Mr Zachariah Lathrope, he was too busy with the ham and eggs to do much talking; although, like the monkeys, he probably thought the more, for ever and anon he would pass encomiums on the viands and pass up his plate for a fresh helping, the steward having enough to do in supplying his wants quickly enough.
After breakfast, a visit was paid to “Snowball,” the darkey Stowaway, who was found much better and progressing so favourably that the captain ordered his removal to the “fokesail,” to complete his convalescence; which it may be here added he satisfactorily accomplished in a few days, when he was installed in the galley as cook, in the place of a Maltese sailor who was glad to get forward again before the mast. The negro had slept continually from the time he had been released from durance vile in the after-hold, neither the racket below nor the turmoil on deck during the storm having disturbed his slumbers. This, no doubt, had hastened his recovery, for Mr McCarthy was positive that three of his ribs at least had been broken.
“Why is Snowball like a worm, Miss Meldrum?” said Captain Dinks to Kate, after telling her that he intended installing the darkey in the galley as cook; “do you know, eh!”
“Oh, if that’s a conundrum, captain,” replied she with a piquant laugh that lit up her whole face, making it quite beautiful, Frank Harness thought, “I give it up at once. I’m a bad hand at guessing riddles.”
“Well, you see,” said Captain Dinks, with that cheery “ho, ho!” of a laugh of his, which always preceded any of his good things, “the worm or grub develops into the butterfly; but Snowball made the butter fly when he tumbled over that cask in the steerage, and now he is going to develop into the grub line and turn cook!”
“That’s too bad!” said Kate laughing. “I never heard a worse sort of pun in my life.”
“Then it’s all the better, my dear,” replied he; and as everybody else laughed too, they possibly shared the captain’s opinion.
After this, there was a move on deck—not before it was needed perhaps!
At noon, Captain Dinks, after manipulating his sextant and adjusting the sights, seemed to be much longer taking his observation than usual; and when he went below to his cabin to work out the reckoning he certainly remained a most unconscionable time.
By and by, however, he came up the companion again, his face beaming with delight.
“What do you think, Mr Meldrum?” said he, somewhat excitedly, to that gentleman, who, along with the remainder of the saloon party, was standing on the poop leaning over the taffrail to windward, looking over the apparently limit less expanse of water, that stretched away to the horizon, and basking in the sunshine, which was tempered by a mellow breeze that seemed just sufficient to keep the sails of theNancy Bellfull—and that was all.
“I’m sure I can’t say,” replied Mr Meldrum good-humouredly. “Found another ghost in the cabin, eh?”
“No, no; couldn’t have two in one voyage,” said the skipper.
“Made another conundrum?” again inquired the other slily, poking fun at the captain’s previous attempt in the riddle line.
“Oh, no,” said Captain Dinks, laughing out at this. “That was too good to be repeated: I’ve got better news than that, Mr Meldrum—something really to surprise you!”
“I’m all attention,” said Mr Meldrum, “but pray do not keep us long in suspense. Don’t you see we’re all anxious!”
“Why,” exclaimed Captain Dinks triumphantly, “theNancy Bellhas made nearly five degrees of latitude since I last took the sun, there!”
“Oh dear!” said Florry ruefully; “I thought you were going to tell us something funny!” and she looked so disappointed that Kate laughed at her and Master Maurice Negus grinned; whereupon Florry, in a pet, smacked the young gentleman’s face, for which she was reproved by her father and ordered below, although the sentence of banishment was remitted later on at Mrs Major Negus’s especial request.
This little interlude over, the captain proceeded with his explanation.
“Yes,” said he, “we’re now in latitude 44 degrees 56 minutes north, and longitude 9 degrees 42 minutes west; so that we’ve run pretty close on four hundred miles since yesterday at noon. Just think of that, now!”
“A pretty good distance,” said Mr Meldrum; “but, you must recollect we had the gale to drive us on.”
“Aye, sorr,” said Mr McCarthy, joining in the conversation, “and didn’t it droive us too! Begorrah, there was some times that the wind tuck the ship clane out of the wather and carried us along in the air like one of them flying-fish you’ll say when we gits down to the line!”
“It was fortunate it was in our favour,” observed the captain reflectively. “We couldn’t have tried to beat against it; and, heavily-laden as we are, it would have been madness to have tried to lay-to!”
“You’re right,” said Mr Meldrum, “and it was equally fortunate that the gale carried us so far and no further! Another twelve hours of it and we would have been high and dry ashore on the Spanish coast.”
“I think you’re not far out,” replied the captain, scratching his head and pondering over the matter, “for we’ll only just shave past Cape Finisterre now keeping our course; and if we hadn’t made so much westing when we got out of the Channel I don’t know where we should have been!”
“Faix and it was grumbling at it you were all the toime, cap’en!” said McCarthy with a knowing wink; “though you do now say it was all for the best, as the man said when they buried his wife’s grandmother!”
“Aye, you’re right,” said Captain Dinks more seriously, “all is for the best, if we could only know it at the time!”
Thenceforward, the weather kept fine; and the fates seemed favourable to theNancy Bellin her pilgrimage across the sea.
There was no lack of incident in the voyage, however.
One day, about a week after they had bidden farewell to the Bay of Biscay with all its terrors and troubled waters, as the ship was approaching that region of calms which lies adjacent to the Tropic of Cancer, her rate of progression had grown so “small by degrees and beautifully less,” that she barely drifted southward with the current, until at length she came to a dead stop, so far as those on board could judge, lying motionless on the surface of the water “like a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” as the situation is described in Coleridge’sAncient Mariner.
Round about the vessel, dolphins disported themselves, and “Portuguese men-of-war” floated over the sea with their gelatinous sails unfurled, and everything seemed lazy and enjoyable to the passengers—although the captain and crew did not evidently relish the state of inaction which the calm brought about, for they were looking out in all quarters for the wished-for wind.
Not a ship was in sight—nothing happening to break the peaceful repose of the deep for hours.
The captain was “having a stretch” below; the men snoozing away on the deck forwards in all sorts of odd corners; the officer of the watch blinking as he squinted aloft to see if the dog-vane stirred with any passing breath of air; even the steersman was nodding over the helm, as the wheel rotated round to port or starboard as it listed, according as the ship rose or fell on the long heavy rolling swell that undulated over the bosom of the deep; and most of the passengers were in the same somnolent state—when all at once an event occurred that soon broke the monotony of the afternoon, waking up the sleepy ones to fresh vitality, for an object of interest had at last arisen in the uneventful day sufficient for the moment to enchain their attention.
The listless lotus eaters had to thank Master Negus for the excitement, in the first instance.
That young gentleman was possessed of a keen desire for knowledge, which his more prosaic seniors were in the habit of misconstruing, deeming it to arise, as they said, from an insatiable and impertinent curiosity combined with an inherent love of mischief. Be that as it may, this desire for knowledge on Master Maurice’s part frequently led him into places where, to put it delicately, his presence was undesirable in many ways; his love for investigation taking him especially to certain dangerous localities whither he was peremptorily forbidden to go both by his mother and the captain.
Among such tabooed spots in the ship was the forecastle; and here, consequently, as a matter of course, Master Maurice most delighted to steal away when neither the maternal eye of Mrs Major Negus was upon him nor any of the other people aft were watching him. He did not mind the sailors, for they made a point of encouraging him forward and took much pleasure in developing his propensities for mischief.
This afternoon, he was enjoying himself after the desire of his heart-climbing about the rigging in a way that would have made his mother faint, when, in one of his scrambles up to the foretop, he saw something in the water which was hidden from the sight of the others on board, through the head-sails of the ship shutting out their line of view.
“Oh, crickey,” shouted out Master Negus at the top of his voice, at once betraying his whereabouts in his excitement, “there’s a fight going on in the water, and two whales are leathering each other like fun!”
Chapter Six.The Black Fish and the Thresher.“Good gracious me!” exclaimed Mrs Major Negus, jumping up in a fright from the comfortable nap which she had been taking in a lean-back chair on the poop; “where is that unhappy boy? He’ll be the death of me some day!”“I’m here, ma!” shouted out Maurice from the forecastle. “Do come, everybody. It’s such fun! Ah, there, the big one has just got such a whack and is in a terrible wax. He’s hunting about for the little one, who has dived away from him out of reach!”“Fokesall, ahoy!” hailed Mr Adams, who had charge of the deck; “what’s the matter forward!”“Only a fight, sir, between a black-fish and a thresher,” answered Ben Boltrope, the carpenter, an old man-o’-war’s man, and one of the most efficient hands of theNancy Bell’screw.“A fit!” exclaimed Mr Zachariah Lathrope, drawing his long telescopic legs together and rising into a sitting posture on the top of the cabin skylight, where he had been taking his usual afternoon siesta instead of putting himself to the trouble of going below and turning into his bunk, as was his usual wont after luncheon. “A fit! Wa-al I guess I’m on. I allers likes to hitch in with a muss!” and, so saying, the lanky American was soon scrambling down the poop-ladder and making his way forward, followed by all the remainder of the passengers—Mrs Major Negus, of course, going to look after her darling boy, while Frank Harness accompanied Kate Meldrum, as he said, to “take care of her,” although, as her father was not far distant, it might have been supposed that his protecting arm was not so absolutely necessary as he thought!A very strange spectacle was seen, when the party, after diving beneath the slackened sheets of the mainsail, that flapped about an inert mess of canvas above their heads, and picking their way past the galley and windlass, at last climbed up into the bows of the ship, where the majority of the crew had already assembled and taken up vantage points in the rigging, half-way up which was Master Maurice, waving his hat wildly in a great state of excitement, and the master as it were of the situation.“There they are!” said he pointing to where the water was lashed up and broken into foam, about half a mile ahead of the ship, amidst which a couple of dark bodies could be seen tumbling about—one occasionally jumping up high in the air and coming down on the other with a thud, and a smack that sounded like the crack of a whip, or report of a rifle. “There they are, Miss Meldrum, I saw them first!”“Come down out of that, sir, at once!” screamed out his mother, with a pant and a puff between each word, her breath having been almost taken away by her unusually quick movements in getting forwards. “Have I not ordered you never to go up those ropes?”“Oh, bother, ma!” exclaimed the young hopeful, paying not the slightest attention to his mother’s command. He had been so spoilt, petted at one time and scolded another, that all her authority over him was lost save in name. “There! bravo, little one—oh, my, wasn’t that a good one, now?”And so, Mrs Major Negus—abandoning any expectation of making Maurice descend from his perch in the shrouds, where, however, she could see that he was in no imminent danger, for he had one of the sailors on either side of him who would catch him should he slip—was obliged perforce to do as all the rest were doing and gaze at the thrilling marine drama that was being acted out with such tragic earnestness on the surface of the deep before their eyes.A black-fish—which, it may be mentioned here, for the benefit of the uninitiated, is a species of cachalot, although differing from the true spermaceti family of whales in having the spout-holes placed on the top of the head, in place of on the snout, and the pectoral fins shorter—was being assailed by its bitter enemy the thresher or “fox shark.” This latter is one of the most peculiar fishes to be seen throughout the length and breadth of the ocean, that world of living wonders; for it has a most extraordinary face, or head, which is more like that of an ape than of one of the piscine tribe; while its tail is divided into two lobes or blades, one of which is small and insignificant, and the other larger than the body of the animal, curling up at the end like the tail-feather of a bird of paradise.There could be no comparison between the two combatants, in respect to size at least; for, while the whale was some fifty feet long—nearly a third of the length of theNancy Bell—the thresher could not have exceeded thirteen feet; and as for girth, the former was in proportion like a portly, Daniel-Lambert sort of man put by the side of a starving street urchin of seven. The only advantage the thresher apparently possessed was in its eyes, which, when one could get a glimpse of them, looked like those of a hawk; while the unwieldy cetacean had little tiny optics, not much bigger than those of a common haddock, which were placed in an unwieldy lump of a head, that seemed ever so much bigger than its body, with a tremendous lower jaw containing a row of teeth, each one of which was nearly a foot long.The thresher, seemingly, had only the advantage of his antagonist in the proportionate size of his eyes; but, “just wait till you have seen him use his long feather-like tail!” as Maurice Negus said, and you will arrive at the conclusion that the combatants were not so very unequally matched after all.The very size of the black-fish militated against his chances for, while it took him more than his own length to turn in the water, the thresher darted, here, there and everywhere, like an eel—just getting out of his reach when the other thought he had got him and had opened his ponderous jaws to crush him. It was at this moment that his agile tormentor, seizing his opportunity, would leap out of the water and give the whale a “whack” on his side behind the fin, one of his tenderest spots, the blow resounding far and wide over the water and probably leaving a weal if not an indentation in the animal’s side.Mr Zachariah Lathrope got quite interested, bobbing from one side of the topgallant-forecastle to the other, and trying to obtain the best view he could of the contest.“Bully for the little scorpion, marm!” he exclaimed to “the Major,” as he shoved his hands down into his trouser pockets and seemed to lift himself up in his eagerness. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar he’ll fix that air whale to rights! By gosh, that wer a sockdolager; I guess the big varmint is kinder gettin’ riled!”The whale here spouted and fluked his tail, diving down for a moment beneath the surface; but, he did not long disappear, and when he came up shortly afterwards nearer the ship, the spectators could see that the water around him was dyed with blood.As the black-fish rose, the thresher, who evidently had been waiting for him and knew the precise spot where he would reappear, threw himself up in the air, turning a sort of summersault; and, “whack!” came his whip-like tail round his victim’s body, the whale seeming to writhe under the blow as if driven half mad with pain.“Look, look!” exclaimed Florry Meldrum, “the thresher isn’t alone; what are those long-nosed fishes swimming about under the whale? They seem to be helping the other one!”“You’re right, Florry,” said her father, “they are swordfish. What you think are their noses are long projecting saw-like blades, and they are the whale’s deadliest enemy. I never saw them, however, attacking one in company with a thresher before: they must have formed an alliance for the express purpose, as they have really nothing in common.”“It reminds me, mister,” said the American, putting a chew of tobacco in his mouth pensively, “of a bull fit I once see in Carthagena when I was to Spain some years ago. That air thresher is jist like the feller all fixed up with lace and fallals called the Piccador, who used to stir up the animile with squibs and crackers and make him fly round like a dawg when he’s kinder tickled with a flea under his tail; and the sword-fish, as you calls them outlandish things, are sunthen’ like the Matador that gives the bull his quietus with his wepping. That air power of blood that you see, I guess, is from them, and not from t’other’s cow-hide of a tail!”“Golly, massa, you speaks for true,” said Snowball, who formed one of the party of lookers-on, abandoning his coppers in the galley in order to see the fun. “Bress de Lord! see how dat long snout chap dere gib him goss now!”It really seemed an organised attack.As soon as the back of the black-fish appeared above the surface, the thresher, springing several yards out of the water, descended with great violence on the object of its rancour and inflicted what sounded like a hearty slap with its tail, the sword-fishes in their turn striking the whale from below; so that, try how he might, the unhappy monster of the deep could not escape his persevering foes.“Sure and be jabers it bates Donnybrook Fair entirely!” said Mr McCarthy, who had also come up from below, the news having also reached him of what was taking place. “The poor baste will soon be bate into a cocked hat with all them ragamuffins on to him at once! It’s liking to help him I’d be if I saw the chance!”But the doom of the black-fish was evidently by this time sealed and human aid was powerless to assist him: all could see for themselves that the last act in the drama was close at hand!Suddenly, the thresher gave another violent bound upwards into the air from the surface of the ensanguined water, leaping almost over the whale; and, as he fell back again into the sea, his tail, which was bent like a bow, delivered a terrible lash, surpassing any of its previous attempts. At the same time, as if by a concerted movement, those on board could see—for the combatants were now so close alongside the ship that the bight of a rope could have been easily hove over them—one of the sword-fish made a dart at the exposed flank of the whale, burying its ugly saw-like weapon almost up to the head and inflicting a wound that must have been mortal.The black-fish instantly emitted a sort of hollow muffled roar; and, sending up a fountain of watery spray mixed with blood from its spout-holes, splashed the sea violently with its formidable flukes, after which it rolled over, rocking from side to side in its last dying flurry or death agony.“I guess he’s a gone coon!” said the American, hitching up his trousers again and turning over the quid of tobacco in his mouth. “It seems a terrible pity to waste him though. There’s a powerful sight of blubber in that air animile!” and the speaker appeared to gaze sadly at the carcase of the conquered cetacean as it floated by.“It’s all over,” said Mr Meldrum, turning from the now pitiful spectacle with disgust. “Come away, girls!” But Kate had long since left the scene, the sight not having been of a nature to suit her tender heart; and, she was now far away aft with Frank Harness, sitting in a secluded corner of the poop, where she could see nothing of the sanguinary ending of the contest. Florry, on the contrary, had remained to the last, as well as Mrs Major Negus—who, it may be observed, had watched the struggle from its commencement to its close with almost as much interest as her enthusiastic son and heir; and Mr Meldrum had much difficulty in tearing the little girl away from her rapt contemplation of the dead whale.“Stop a minute, papa,” she urged when he took hold of her arm to draw her from the rail. “Do look! they have all left him now they have killed him. I wonder what they quarrelled about?”“Sure, an’ just for the same rayson, missy, that Christians hate sich other,” said Mr McCarthy, “just for no cause at all, but bekaze they can’t help it, alannah! And now that the little divils have kilt him, sure they’ve swum off and left the poor crathur to die, just the same as some ov us does to sich other, more’s the pity, by the same token!”It was true enough.The thresher and his active allies had all at once disappeared, how, when, or where, none of those looking on could tell; the lifeless body of the black-fish only remaining in evidence of the battle that had taken place.There it was, floating sluggishly on the heavy rolling swell of the ocean, in solitary grandeur; for the dolphins and “Portuguese men-of-war” that had been seen earlier in the afternoon had taken themselves off as soon as the light began—evidently preferring calmer scenes and not relishing the proximity of such inveterate enemies of their several species as the late combatants.
“Good gracious me!” exclaimed Mrs Major Negus, jumping up in a fright from the comfortable nap which she had been taking in a lean-back chair on the poop; “where is that unhappy boy? He’ll be the death of me some day!”
“I’m here, ma!” shouted out Maurice from the forecastle. “Do come, everybody. It’s such fun! Ah, there, the big one has just got such a whack and is in a terrible wax. He’s hunting about for the little one, who has dived away from him out of reach!”
“Fokesall, ahoy!” hailed Mr Adams, who had charge of the deck; “what’s the matter forward!”
“Only a fight, sir, between a black-fish and a thresher,” answered Ben Boltrope, the carpenter, an old man-o’-war’s man, and one of the most efficient hands of theNancy Bell’screw.
“A fit!” exclaimed Mr Zachariah Lathrope, drawing his long telescopic legs together and rising into a sitting posture on the top of the cabin skylight, where he had been taking his usual afternoon siesta instead of putting himself to the trouble of going below and turning into his bunk, as was his usual wont after luncheon. “A fit! Wa-al I guess I’m on. I allers likes to hitch in with a muss!” and, so saying, the lanky American was soon scrambling down the poop-ladder and making his way forward, followed by all the remainder of the passengers—Mrs Major Negus, of course, going to look after her darling boy, while Frank Harness accompanied Kate Meldrum, as he said, to “take care of her,” although, as her father was not far distant, it might have been supposed that his protecting arm was not so absolutely necessary as he thought!
A very strange spectacle was seen, when the party, after diving beneath the slackened sheets of the mainsail, that flapped about an inert mess of canvas above their heads, and picking their way past the galley and windlass, at last climbed up into the bows of the ship, where the majority of the crew had already assembled and taken up vantage points in the rigging, half-way up which was Master Maurice, waving his hat wildly in a great state of excitement, and the master as it were of the situation.
“There they are!” said he pointing to where the water was lashed up and broken into foam, about half a mile ahead of the ship, amidst which a couple of dark bodies could be seen tumbling about—one occasionally jumping up high in the air and coming down on the other with a thud, and a smack that sounded like the crack of a whip, or report of a rifle. “There they are, Miss Meldrum, I saw them first!”
“Come down out of that, sir, at once!” screamed out his mother, with a pant and a puff between each word, her breath having been almost taken away by her unusually quick movements in getting forwards. “Have I not ordered you never to go up those ropes?”
“Oh, bother, ma!” exclaimed the young hopeful, paying not the slightest attention to his mother’s command. He had been so spoilt, petted at one time and scolded another, that all her authority over him was lost save in name. “There! bravo, little one—oh, my, wasn’t that a good one, now?”
And so, Mrs Major Negus—abandoning any expectation of making Maurice descend from his perch in the shrouds, where, however, she could see that he was in no imminent danger, for he had one of the sailors on either side of him who would catch him should he slip—was obliged perforce to do as all the rest were doing and gaze at the thrilling marine drama that was being acted out with such tragic earnestness on the surface of the deep before their eyes.
A black-fish—which, it may be mentioned here, for the benefit of the uninitiated, is a species of cachalot, although differing from the true spermaceti family of whales in having the spout-holes placed on the top of the head, in place of on the snout, and the pectoral fins shorter—was being assailed by its bitter enemy the thresher or “fox shark.” This latter is one of the most peculiar fishes to be seen throughout the length and breadth of the ocean, that world of living wonders; for it has a most extraordinary face, or head, which is more like that of an ape than of one of the piscine tribe; while its tail is divided into two lobes or blades, one of which is small and insignificant, and the other larger than the body of the animal, curling up at the end like the tail-feather of a bird of paradise.
There could be no comparison between the two combatants, in respect to size at least; for, while the whale was some fifty feet long—nearly a third of the length of theNancy Bell—the thresher could not have exceeded thirteen feet; and as for girth, the former was in proportion like a portly, Daniel-Lambert sort of man put by the side of a starving street urchin of seven. The only advantage the thresher apparently possessed was in its eyes, which, when one could get a glimpse of them, looked like those of a hawk; while the unwieldy cetacean had little tiny optics, not much bigger than those of a common haddock, which were placed in an unwieldy lump of a head, that seemed ever so much bigger than its body, with a tremendous lower jaw containing a row of teeth, each one of which was nearly a foot long.
The thresher, seemingly, had only the advantage of his antagonist in the proportionate size of his eyes; but, “just wait till you have seen him use his long feather-like tail!” as Maurice Negus said, and you will arrive at the conclusion that the combatants were not so very unequally matched after all.
The very size of the black-fish militated against his chances for, while it took him more than his own length to turn in the water, the thresher darted, here, there and everywhere, like an eel—just getting out of his reach when the other thought he had got him and had opened his ponderous jaws to crush him. It was at this moment that his agile tormentor, seizing his opportunity, would leap out of the water and give the whale a “whack” on his side behind the fin, one of his tenderest spots, the blow resounding far and wide over the water and probably leaving a weal if not an indentation in the animal’s side.
Mr Zachariah Lathrope got quite interested, bobbing from one side of the topgallant-forecastle to the other, and trying to obtain the best view he could of the contest.
“Bully for the little scorpion, marm!” he exclaimed to “the Major,” as he shoved his hands down into his trouser pockets and seemed to lift himself up in his eagerness. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar he’ll fix that air whale to rights! By gosh, that wer a sockdolager; I guess the big varmint is kinder gettin’ riled!”
The whale here spouted and fluked his tail, diving down for a moment beneath the surface; but, he did not long disappear, and when he came up shortly afterwards nearer the ship, the spectators could see that the water around him was dyed with blood.
As the black-fish rose, the thresher, who evidently had been waiting for him and knew the precise spot where he would reappear, threw himself up in the air, turning a sort of summersault; and, “whack!” came his whip-like tail round his victim’s body, the whale seeming to writhe under the blow as if driven half mad with pain.
“Look, look!” exclaimed Florry Meldrum, “the thresher isn’t alone; what are those long-nosed fishes swimming about under the whale? They seem to be helping the other one!”
“You’re right, Florry,” said her father, “they are swordfish. What you think are their noses are long projecting saw-like blades, and they are the whale’s deadliest enemy. I never saw them, however, attacking one in company with a thresher before: they must have formed an alliance for the express purpose, as they have really nothing in common.”
“It reminds me, mister,” said the American, putting a chew of tobacco in his mouth pensively, “of a bull fit I once see in Carthagena when I was to Spain some years ago. That air thresher is jist like the feller all fixed up with lace and fallals called the Piccador, who used to stir up the animile with squibs and crackers and make him fly round like a dawg when he’s kinder tickled with a flea under his tail; and the sword-fish, as you calls them outlandish things, are sunthen’ like the Matador that gives the bull his quietus with his wepping. That air power of blood that you see, I guess, is from them, and not from t’other’s cow-hide of a tail!”
“Golly, massa, you speaks for true,” said Snowball, who formed one of the party of lookers-on, abandoning his coppers in the galley in order to see the fun. “Bress de Lord! see how dat long snout chap dere gib him goss now!”
It really seemed an organised attack.
As soon as the back of the black-fish appeared above the surface, the thresher, springing several yards out of the water, descended with great violence on the object of its rancour and inflicted what sounded like a hearty slap with its tail, the sword-fishes in their turn striking the whale from below; so that, try how he might, the unhappy monster of the deep could not escape his persevering foes.
“Sure and be jabers it bates Donnybrook Fair entirely!” said Mr McCarthy, who had also come up from below, the news having also reached him of what was taking place. “The poor baste will soon be bate into a cocked hat with all them ragamuffins on to him at once! It’s liking to help him I’d be if I saw the chance!”
But the doom of the black-fish was evidently by this time sealed and human aid was powerless to assist him: all could see for themselves that the last act in the drama was close at hand!
Suddenly, the thresher gave another violent bound upwards into the air from the surface of the ensanguined water, leaping almost over the whale; and, as he fell back again into the sea, his tail, which was bent like a bow, delivered a terrible lash, surpassing any of its previous attempts. At the same time, as if by a concerted movement, those on board could see—for the combatants were now so close alongside the ship that the bight of a rope could have been easily hove over them—one of the sword-fish made a dart at the exposed flank of the whale, burying its ugly saw-like weapon almost up to the head and inflicting a wound that must have been mortal.
The black-fish instantly emitted a sort of hollow muffled roar; and, sending up a fountain of watery spray mixed with blood from its spout-holes, splashed the sea violently with its formidable flukes, after which it rolled over, rocking from side to side in its last dying flurry or death agony.
“I guess he’s a gone coon!” said the American, hitching up his trousers again and turning over the quid of tobacco in his mouth. “It seems a terrible pity to waste him though. There’s a powerful sight of blubber in that air animile!” and the speaker appeared to gaze sadly at the carcase of the conquered cetacean as it floated by.
“It’s all over,” said Mr Meldrum, turning from the now pitiful spectacle with disgust. “Come away, girls!” But Kate had long since left the scene, the sight not having been of a nature to suit her tender heart; and, she was now far away aft with Frank Harness, sitting in a secluded corner of the poop, where she could see nothing of the sanguinary ending of the contest. Florry, on the contrary, had remained to the last, as well as Mrs Major Negus—who, it may be observed, had watched the struggle from its commencement to its close with almost as much interest as her enthusiastic son and heir; and Mr Meldrum had much difficulty in tearing the little girl away from her rapt contemplation of the dead whale.
“Stop a minute, papa,” she urged when he took hold of her arm to draw her from the rail. “Do look! they have all left him now they have killed him. I wonder what they quarrelled about?”
“Sure, an’ just for the same rayson, missy, that Christians hate sich other,” said Mr McCarthy, “just for no cause at all, but bekaze they can’t help it, alannah! And now that the little divils have kilt him, sure they’ve swum off and left the poor crathur to die, just the same as some ov us does to sich other, more’s the pity, by the same token!”
It was true enough.
The thresher and his active allies had all at once disappeared, how, when, or where, none of those looking on could tell; the lifeless body of the black-fish only remaining in evidence of the battle that had taken place.
There it was, floating sluggishly on the heavy rolling swell of the ocean, in solitary grandeur; for the dolphins and “Portuguese men-of-war” that had been seen earlier in the afternoon had taken themselves off as soon as the light began—evidently preferring calmer scenes and not relishing the proximity of such inveterate enemies of their several species as the late combatants.
Chapter Seven.Fire!The calm continued for four days, during which time not a breath of wind came from any point of the compass to waft the ship on her way; although, of course, she could not help drifting a few miles every twenty-four hours southwards, under the influence of the great equatorial current.However, if there was no wind, there was no lack of novelty to those of the passengers who had never been to sea before; for, from their being now within the tropical region, the ocean around, albeit so still and glassy, seemed to swarm with life. Thousands of flying-fish were to be seen fluttering on either side of the vessel, while skipjacks and bonetas also showed themselves occasionally; and the dreaded shark, with his close attendant and valet the pilot-fish, was not an absentee, for he was continually cruising about astern on the constant look-out.“How funny those flying-fish look!” said Florry Meldrum, watching a shoal of them that rose from the water just like a covey of white larks, and which, after skimming past theNancy Bell, again settled in the sea, quite tired out with their short flight.“You should see them nearer,” said Frank Harness, who was between the two girls, looking out over the gangway aft—“and then you would call them funnier. Ah! here is one,” he added, catching one of the little fluttering creatures that had become entangled in the mizzen rigging; “you see, it doesn’t have wings as you think, but only a membrane between its fins, just like what a bat has.”“Yes,” said I “I see. It is curious, though, that they should look so white at a distance, when their backs are dark and blueish, like a mackerel!”“Ah! that is because the under part of their wings is only then visible. Look, now, at that lot there that have just risen to escape the boneta. They seem exactly like a fall of snowflakes!”“Poor things!” said Kate. “The boneta seems to be their inveterate enemy, or rather consumer, as he appears to be in good condition on the diet. It’s a pity, though, that he’s such a glutton; for he’s a nice-looking fish, all purple and gold, and he oughtn’t to be so cruel!”“Oh! he’s not the only enemy of the flying-fish, Miss Meldrum,” answered Frank; “you should see the albatross after them down near the Cape. The bird hunts them as soon as they rise in the air, and the boneta when they’re in the water; so, between the two, they have little chance of escape—just like the fight, the other day, between the black-fish on the one side and the thresher and sword-fish on the other.”“Ah!” exclaimed Kate with a shiver, “I couldn’t look at that long! The boneta hunt the flying-fish in a fairer way, and they do look so pretty when they jump out of the water! How disappointed the boneta must then feel when they see them take unto themselves wings and fly away?”“They needn’t be disappointed long,” said Frank Harness, laughing, “for, they must know that they’re bound to catch them up in the long run. But, look at that cloud there, Miss Meldrum, slowly creeping up the sky. ‘I guess,’ as our American friend says, that we’re going to have some rain.”“Do you think so?” she answered, smiling at Frank’s rather good imitation of Mr Lathrope’s nasal intonation of voice; “I thought it looked too bright for that.”“We’ll have it soon; just you see,” said Frank.“All right, Mr Positive, I suppose we must bow to your superior nautical skill.”“Oh, Miss Meldrum, don’t laugh at me, if I am only a poor sailor,” said he reproachfully; “you always seem to taunt me with my profession!”“I!” exclaimed Kate in surprise. “Why, I would not make fun of you, or hurt your feelings, for the world!”Frank seized her hand and pressed it, as if he were about to say something in response; but, just at that moment, the rain, without offering the apology of a warning drop or two to give notice of its approach, came down in a perfect deluge, making them rush for shelter beneath the poop awning.This was just after lunch, early in the afternoon; and the rain lasted until the dinner-bell sounded, coming down in regular sheets of water, as if emptied out suddenly from some enormous reservoir above.All sorts of tubs, buckets, kegs, and open casks, including the scuttle butt, were ranged along the spar-deck, below the break of the poop, to catch the welcome shower, tarpaulins being spread over the open hatchways, where exposed, to prevent the flood from going below: while the ends of the after awning were tied up in a sort of huge bag for the rain to drain off into it, so that none of it might be wasted—the canvas being let down, when the receptacle was pretty full, to empty the contents into the water-puncheons—for the pure liquid was a precious godsend, being an agreeable relief to the brackish supply which the ship carried in her tanks.As might have been imagined, Master Negus and Miss Florry watched all these operations with the greatest interest, for they would have been only too glad if their respective guardians had allowed them to take a more active part in the watery campaign than that of merely looking on.Mr Zachariah Lathrope, however, was his own master, and he made himself very busy amongst the dripping sailors, who were hopping about on the wet decks as if enjoying their ducking, much amusement being caused when Mr McCarthy, for a joke, let the leach of the awning once go by the run, when, the American passenger being off his guard, some hundred gallons of water came down on him, giving the worthy gentleman an impromptu shower-bath.It was grand fun while the rain lasted, all the men folk paddling about in it to their hearts’ content and ducking each other when they had the chance; while the ladies observed the sports from the shelter of the poop, seeming to take equally as much pleasure in the skylarking. It was amazing, too, to notice the amount of dirt and rubbish which the downpour washed away into the scuppers. What with the continual swilling and scrubbing and swabbing that the decks underwent every morning, it ought to have been an impossibility for any dust or debris to exist; but, there it was, to prove the contrary—the rain “exposing the weakness of the land,” and making a clean sweep of everything that was dirty which lay about in the odd corners fore and aft the ship.The day after the rain, just when all on board—sick of the calm, the listless monotonous roll of the ship, the flapping of the idle sails against the masts, and the sight of the same cloudless sky and endless expanse of tumid sea, with surface unbroken by the tiniest ripple, save when a dolphin leaped out of the water or a fairy nautilus glided by in his frail shell craft—were longing for the advent of the north-east trades, which Captain Dinks had expected them to “run into” ever since they lost their first favourable wind, there came a visitor to theNancy Bell, the most dreaded of all the perils of the deep—Fire!Eight bells had just been struck in the morning watch; and the passengers were just preparing for breakfast—that is, such as were late risers, like Mrs Major Negus and Mr Lathrope, neither of whom turned out earlier than was necessary. Those who knew what was the healthiest plan, like Mr Meldrum and his daughters, had been up and out more than an hour before, walking up and down the poop and getting up a vigorous appetite for the first meal of the day.The captain had not long come up the companion; and, after looking aloft and to the northward, scanning the horizon around, had stepped up to the binnacle, where he stood contemplating the compass hopelessly, as if he had given up all idea of the wind coming, while the hands of the watch on duty were listlessly idling about the waist of the ship, dead weary of having nothing to do.The cook, apparently, was the only really busy person on board at the time, for he could be seen popping in and out of his galley forwards, handing dishes to Llewellyn, the steward, to bring aft for the cuddy table. The darkey seemed bathed in perspiration, and looked as if he found cooking hot work in latitudes under the constellation of the Crab, whither the vessel had drifted.All at once, however, a change came over the scene.As the steward was passing the main hatch in his second journey aft to the saloon, he noticed a thin column of smoke ascending from the main hold, where the principal portion of the cargo was stowed. Like a fool, although it might have been pleaded for him that he was constitutionally nervous, he let fall the dishes he was carrying on a tray, in his fright at the sight of this evidence of a conflagration below, instead of going quietly up to the captain and telling him what he had seen; and, to make matters worse, he called out at the same time in terrified accents, as loud as he could bawl—“Fire! fire! the ship’s on fire!”Had a thunderbolt burst on board, or had the vessel struck on a rock in the middle of the ocean, the alarm that was instantly spread on board could not have been greater; and where all had been listless inactivity but a moment before, was now all life, motion, and excitement.“A fire! whar?” exclaimed Mr Zachariah Lathrope poking his head out of the companion-way, judiciously concealing the remainder of his lanky person, as he had not yet quite finished his toilet. “Snakes and alligators, Cap’en, but I’m terrible skeart at fires! I hope it ain’t up to much chucks?”“Oh, no!” said Captain Dinks, reassuringly, expressing what he wished more than what he felt. He had remained aft in order to somewhat allay the alarm which the outcry of the steward had excited; but he was itching to get to the scene of action himself, although he had sent Mr McCarthy there already, besides ordering the crew to their respective stations, and having the hose-pump manned.—“Oh, no, nothing at all, only one of that ass, Llewellyn’s, happy discoveries, another sort of ghost in the cabin! Here, Harness,” he added aside to Frank, who had just come up from below, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Just stop on the poop a minute, and keep these people quiet. I must go down to the hold myself to look after matters; don’t say anything more than you can help.”So saying, the captain scuttled down the poop ladder on to the spar-deck in a jiffey, and in another second he was descending the main hatch, whence the smoke could be now clearly seen, coming up in clouds.Mrs Major Negus’s voice was also heard at this juncture. The good lady had ascended the companion behind the American, who still remained at the spot where he had first made his appearance, and was just then adjusting his braces; and almost at the same instant that her dulcet accents reached the ears of those on deck she burst upon them, as it were by storm, carrying Mr Lathrope along with her, stillen deshabille, it is true, as regarded his coat and waistcoat, but fortunately now with his trousers, or as he called them “pants,” properly arranged.“Goodness gracious, man!” she exclaimed frantically—“do get out of the way. Lord a mercy! where’s the fire? Oh dear, oh my! We shall all be burnt alive? Maurice, my darling boy! come to your mother’s arms and let us die together. Maurice! Where’s my boy?”“You’d better stop that screechin’ and say your prayers, marm,” said Mr Zachariah Lathrope, sententiously. “The b’y is all right below, sleepin’ in the corner of the sofy, and I’d advise you to go and rouse him up, instead of rushing up har like a mad bull in fly time, a knocking folks down and hollerin’.”Mrs Major Negus took his advice; for, without withering up the American with her scorn, as she would probably have done another time, she at once rushed back below to the cuddy as quickly as she had come up, to wake up Maurice; while Kate Meldrum, seizing the opportunity which the diversion afforded, sidled up to Frank Harness unperceived.“Is there any danger really?” she asked the young sailor in a low tone, so that no one else could hear; and her face was pale, but composed and resolute, as she looked into his.“Could you bear to be told the truth?” said he hesitatingly.“I could,” she replied; and he saw that she meant it.“Well, there certainly is danger, although it is best not to alarm everybody, for when people get frightened they interfere and hinder what is being done to save them. I wouldn’t like to tell the crew, Miss Meldrum, what I tell you; but I know you are brave, and see that you can bear to be told the truth. A lot of woollen goods are on fire in the main hold, and must, from the extent of the area already consumed, have been smouldering for days. We are doing all that men can do to quench it, and we may succeed, as there is no wind and nothing to fan the flames; but the only thing that hinders us is our being unable to get to the seat of the mischief, which is in the very centre of the cargo. However, the men are now breaking in the deck above, and as soon as we are able to get the end of the hose down and pass buckets, all may be well. Keep a good heart, Miss Meldrum, there’s no absolute danger yet; when there is I will tell you. So, please, prevent that ‘Mrs Major’ from going into hysterics!”“I will, for I trust you,” said Kate with a somewhat sad smile on her pale face. “Here, Florry, come below away from the smoke and sparks; Mr Harness says the fire will soon be out and that there is no danger, and I don’t want you to spoil your new frock!”So courageously speaking, the brave girl then went below with her sister; and by her presence and example assuaged “the Major’s” fears, thus preventing that lady from going back on deck and spreading consternation amongst the crew by her cries, as would otherwise have been the case. Mr Zachariah Lathrope, too, came down to the cuddy, attracted by the smell of breakfast, which the captain had directed the steward to go on getting as if nothing had happened—thus to punish the poltroon in a sort of way for his cowardly alarm; hence, the coast was left clear for the officers and men to put out the fire without being flurried by the fears and importunities of the passengers.Meanwhile, Captain Dinks with Mr Meldrum, who was the first to volunteer—their efforts well supported by the exertions of McCarthy and the second mate and Frank Harness—were working like Britons in theNancy Bell’shold.The fire had broken out, as Frank had stated, almost in the centre of the ship; for two bulkheads had to be battered down and the main deck cut through, before the source of it could be reached. However, by dint of arduously plying the axe and crowbar, an opening was at length made whence the fire could be got at. Flames immediately burst forth the moment air was admitted into the hold, but these were pressed down with wet blankets, and, the fire-hose being carried down and the pumps manned by the watch on deck, a copious stream of water was directed throughout that portion of the ship where all the light woollen and textile goods were stowed. The hose, too, was supplemented by a continuous relay of buckets full of water passed rapidly along the lower deck and down the hatchway by the starboard watch—whose turn it was below, but whom the alarm of fire had caused to rouse out again to duty—so that in half an hour from the discovery of the outbreak all danger was over and the last spark quenched.“Thank God!” said Kate Meldrum, with heart-felt earnestness, her lovely eyes full of tears as she looked up into Frank’s face when he came to tell her the news. “I thought all hope was gone, you were so long in coming!”“But were you not certain I would come?” asked Frank anxiously.“Yes, I had confidence in your promise.”“Thank you,” was all he replied; but his look spoke volumes.At the same time another mutual “confidence game” was being played in a different part of the ship; but in this the understanding was between Mr Meldrum and Ben Boltrope, the ship’s carpenter and ex-man-o’-war’s-man.“Aye, aye, sir,” said the latter when the two were parting on the main deck after the termination of their labours in the lower hold. “I recognised your honour the moment you came on deck that morning of the storm in the Bay of Biscay. I couldn’t mistake the cut of your honour’s jib, sir, begging your pardon.”“Well, I’m sure I did not recognise you, or you may be sure I would have spoken to you. Still, you need not blurt out my identity to everybody, you know.”“Sartinly not, your honour. I’ll keep mum, sir, never you fear, though I don’t forget the old—”“Stop,” said Mr Meldrum, changing the subject. “I’ve no doubt all hands are pretty dry after all the heat we’ve been in down below, so, with the captain’s permission, I’ll send something forward for them to splice the main brace with.”“Aye, aye, your honour,” replied Ben; “a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.”And the two parted, the one going forward to the forecastle and the other aft into the saloon.
The calm continued for four days, during which time not a breath of wind came from any point of the compass to waft the ship on her way; although, of course, she could not help drifting a few miles every twenty-four hours southwards, under the influence of the great equatorial current.
However, if there was no wind, there was no lack of novelty to those of the passengers who had never been to sea before; for, from their being now within the tropical region, the ocean around, albeit so still and glassy, seemed to swarm with life. Thousands of flying-fish were to be seen fluttering on either side of the vessel, while skipjacks and bonetas also showed themselves occasionally; and the dreaded shark, with his close attendant and valet the pilot-fish, was not an absentee, for he was continually cruising about astern on the constant look-out.
“How funny those flying-fish look!” said Florry Meldrum, watching a shoal of them that rose from the water just like a covey of white larks, and which, after skimming past theNancy Bell, again settled in the sea, quite tired out with their short flight.
“You should see them nearer,” said Frank Harness, who was between the two girls, looking out over the gangway aft—“and then you would call them funnier. Ah! here is one,” he added, catching one of the little fluttering creatures that had become entangled in the mizzen rigging; “you see, it doesn’t have wings as you think, but only a membrane between its fins, just like what a bat has.”
“Yes,” said I “I see. It is curious, though, that they should look so white at a distance, when their backs are dark and blueish, like a mackerel!”
“Ah! that is because the under part of their wings is only then visible. Look, now, at that lot there that have just risen to escape the boneta. They seem exactly like a fall of snowflakes!”
“Poor things!” said Kate. “The boneta seems to be their inveterate enemy, or rather consumer, as he appears to be in good condition on the diet. It’s a pity, though, that he’s such a glutton; for he’s a nice-looking fish, all purple and gold, and he oughtn’t to be so cruel!”
“Oh! he’s not the only enemy of the flying-fish, Miss Meldrum,” answered Frank; “you should see the albatross after them down near the Cape. The bird hunts them as soon as they rise in the air, and the boneta when they’re in the water; so, between the two, they have little chance of escape—just like the fight, the other day, between the black-fish on the one side and the thresher and sword-fish on the other.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Kate with a shiver, “I couldn’t look at that long! The boneta hunt the flying-fish in a fairer way, and they do look so pretty when they jump out of the water! How disappointed the boneta must then feel when they see them take unto themselves wings and fly away?”
“They needn’t be disappointed long,” said Frank Harness, laughing, “for, they must know that they’re bound to catch them up in the long run. But, look at that cloud there, Miss Meldrum, slowly creeping up the sky. ‘I guess,’ as our American friend says, that we’re going to have some rain.”
“Do you think so?” she answered, smiling at Frank’s rather good imitation of Mr Lathrope’s nasal intonation of voice; “I thought it looked too bright for that.”
“We’ll have it soon; just you see,” said Frank.
“All right, Mr Positive, I suppose we must bow to your superior nautical skill.”
“Oh, Miss Meldrum, don’t laugh at me, if I am only a poor sailor,” said he reproachfully; “you always seem to taunt me with my profession!”
“I!” exclaimed Kate in surprise. “Why, I would not make fun of you, or hurt your feelings, for the world!”
Frank seized her hand and pressed it, as if he were about to say something in response; but, just at that moment, the rain, without offering the apology of a warning drop or two to give notice of its approach, came down in a perfect deluge, making them rush for shelter beneath the poop awning.
This was just after lunch, early in the afternoon; and the rain lasted until the dinner-bell sounded, coming down in regular sheets of water, as if emptied out suddenly from some enormous reservoir above.
All sorts of tubs, buckets, kegs, and open casks, including the scuttle butt, were ranged along the spar-deck, below the break of the poop, to catch the welcome shower, tarpaulins being spread over the open hatchways, where exposed, to prevent the flood from going below: while the ends of the after awning were tied up in a sort of huge bag for the rain to drain off into it, so that none of it might be wasted—the canvas being let down, when the receptacle was pretty full, to empty the contents into the water-puncheons—for the pure liquid was a precious godsend, being an agreeable relief to the brackish supply which the ship carried in her tanks.
As might have been imagined, Master Negus and Miss Florry watched all these operations with the greatest interest, for they would have been only too glad if their respective guardians had allowed them to take a more active part in the watery campaign than that of merely looking on.
Mr Zachariah Lathrope, however, was his own master, and he made himself very busy amongst the dripping sailors, who were hopping about on the wet decks as if enjoying their ducking, much amusement being caused when Mr McCarthy, for a joke, let the leach of the awning once go by the run, when, the American passenger being off his guard, some hundred gallons of water came down on him, giving the worthy gentleman an impromptu shower-bath.
It was grand fun while the rain lasted, all the men folk paddling about in it to their hearts’ content and ducking each other when they had the chance; while the ladies observed the sports from the shelter of the poop, seeming to take equally as much pleasure in the skylarking. It was amazing, too, to notice the amount of dirt and rubbish which the downpour washed away into the scuppers. What with the continual swilling and scrubbing and swabbing that the decks underwent every morning, it ought to have been an impossibility for any dust or debris to exist; but, there it was, to prove the contrary—the rain “exposing the weakness of the land,” and making a clean sweep of everything that was dirty which lay about in the odd corners fore and aft the ship.
The day after the rain, just when all on board—sick of the calm, the listless monotonous roll of the ship, the flapping of the idle sails against the masts, and the sight of the same cloudless sky and endless expanse of tumid sea, with surface unbroken by the tiniest ripple, save when a dolphin leaped out of the water or a fairy nautilus glided by in his frail shell craft—were longing for the advent of the north-east trades, which Captain Dinks had expected them to “run into” ever since they lost their first favourable wind, there came a visitor to theNancy Bell, the most dreaded of all the perils of the deep—Fire!
Eight bells had just been struck in the morning watch; and the passengers were just preparing for breakfast—that is, such as were late risers, like Mrs Major Negus and Mr Lathrope, neither of whom turned out earlier than was necessary. Those who knew what was the healthiest plan, like Mr Meldrum and his daughters, had been up and out more than an hour before, walking up and down the poop and getting up a vigorous appetite for the first meal of the day.
The captain had not long come up the companion; and, after looking aloft and to the northward, scanning the horizon around, had stepped up to the binnacle, where he stood contemplating the compass hopelessly, as if he had given up all idea of the wind coming, while the hands of the watch on duty were listlessly idling about the waist of the ship, dead weary of having nothing to do.
The cook, apparently, was the only really busy person on board at the time, for he could be seen popping in and out of his galley forwards, handing dishes to Llewellyn, the steward, to bring aft for the cuddy table. The darkey seemed bathed in perspiration, and looked as if he found cooking hot work in latitudes under the constellation of the Crab, whither the vessel had drifted.
All at once, however, a change came over the scene.
As the steward was passing the main hatch in his second journey aft to the saloon, he noticed a thin column of smoke ascending from the main hold, where the principal portion of the cargo was stowed. Like a fool, although it might have been pleaded for him that he was constitutionally nervous, he let fall the dishes he was carrying on a tray, in his fright at the sight of this evidence of a conflagration below, instead of going quietly up to the captain and telling him what he had seen; and, to make matters worse, he called out at the same time in terrified accents, as loud as he could bawl—“Fire! fire! the ship’s on fire!”
Had a thunderbolt burst on board, or had the vessel struck on a rock in the middle of the ocean, the alarm that was instantly spread on board could not have been greater; and where all had been listless inactivity but a moment before, was now all life, motion, and excitement.
“A fire! whar?” exclaimed Mr Zachariah Lathrope poking his head out of the companion-way, judiciously concealing the remainder of his lanky person, as he had not yet quite finished his toilet. “Snakes and alligators, Cap’en, but I’m terrible skeart at fires! I hope it ain’t up to much chucks?”
“Oh, no!” said Captain Dinks, reassuringly, expressing what he wished more than what he felt. He had remained aft in order to somewhat allay the alarm which the outcry of the steward had excited; but he was itching to get to the scene of action himself, although he had sent Mr McCarthy there already, besides ordering the crew to their respective stations, and having the hose-pump manned.—“Oh, no, nothing at all, only one of that ass, Llewellyn’s, happy discoveries, another sort of ghost in the cabin! Here, Harness,” he added aside to Frank, who had just come up from below, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Just stop on the poop a minute, and keep these people quiet. I must go down to the hold myself to look after matters; don’t say anything more than you can help.”
So saying, the captain scuttled down the poop ladder on to the spar-deck in a jiffey, and in another second he was descending the main hatch, whence the smoke could be now clearly seen, coming up in clouds.
Mrs Major Negus’s voice was also heard at this juncture. The good lady had ascended the companion behind the American, who still remained at the spot where he had first made his appearance, and was just then adjusting his braces; and almost at the same instant that her dulcet accents reached the ears of those on deck she burst upon them, as it were by storm, carrying Mr Lathrope along with her, stillen deshabille, it is true, as regarded his coat and waistcoat, but fortunately now with his trousers, or as he called them “pants,” properly arranged.
“Goodness gracious, man!” she exclaimed frantically—“do get out of the way. Lord a mercy! where’s the fire? Oh dear, oh my! We shall all be burnt alive? Maurice, my darling boy! come to your mother’s arms and let us die together. Maurice! Where’s my boy?”
“You’d better stop that screechin’ and say your prayers, marm,” said Mr Zachariah Lathrope, sententiously. “The b’y is all right below, sleepin’ in the corner of the sofy, and I’d advise you to go and rouse him up, instead of rushing up har like a mad bull in fly time, a knocking folks down and hollerin’.”
Mrs Major Negus took his advice; for, without withering up the American with her scorn, as she would probably have done another time, she at once rushed back below to the cuddy as quickly as she had come up, to wake up Maurice; while Kate Meldrum, seizing the opportunity which the diversion afforded, sidled up to Frank Harness unperceived.
“Is there any danger really?” she asked the young sailor in a low tone, so that no one else could hear; and her face was pale, but composed and resolute, as she looked into his.
“Could you bear to be told the truth?” said he hesitatingly.
“I could,” she replied; and he saw that she meant it.
“Well, there certainly is danger, although it is best not to alarm everybody, for when people get frightened they interfere and hinder what is being done to save them. I wouldn’t like to tell the crew, Miss Meldrum, what I tell you; but I know you are brave, and see that you can bear to be told the truth. A lot of woollen goods are on fire in the main hold, and must, from the extent of the area already consumed, have been smouldering for days. We are doing all that men can do to quench it, and we may succeed, as there is no wind and nothing to fan the flames; but the only thing that hinders us is our being unable to get to the seat of the mischief, which is in the very centre of the cargo. However, the men are now breaking in the deck above, and as soon as we are able to get the end of the hose down and pass buckets, all may be well. Keep a good heart, Miss Meldrum, there’s no absolute danger yet; when there is I will tell you. So, please, prevent that ‘Mrs Major’ from going into hysterics!”
“I will, for I trust you,” said Kate with a somewhat sad smile on her pale face. “Here, Florry, come below away from the smoke and sparks; Mr Harness says the fire will soon be out and that there is no danger, and I don’t want you to spoil your new frock!”
So courageously speaking, the brave girl then went below with her sister; and by her presence and example assuaged “the Major’s” fears, thus preventing that lady from going back on deck and spreading consternation amongst the crew by her cries, as would otherwise have been the case. Mr Zachariah Lathrope, too, came down to the cuddy, attracted by the smell of breakfast, which the captain had directed the steward to go on getting as if nothing had happened—thus to punish the poltroon in a sort of way for his cowardly alarm; hence, the coast was left clear for the officers and men to put out the fire without being flurried by the fears and importunities of the passengers.
Meanwhile, Captain Dinks with Mr Meldrum, who was the first to volunteer—their efforts well supported by the exertions of McCarthy and the second mate and Frank Harness—were working like Britons in theNancy Bell’shold.
The fire had broken out, as Frank had stated, almost in the centre of the ship; for two bulkheads had to be battered down and the main deck cut through, before the source of it could be reached. However, by dint of arduously plying the axe and crowbar, an opening was at length made whence the fire could be got at. Flames immediately burst forth the moment air was admitted into the hold, but these were pressed down with wet blankets, and, the fire-hose being carried down and the pumps manned by the watch on deck, a copious stream of water was directed throughout that portion of the ship where all the light woollen and textile goods were stowed. The hose, too, was supplemented by a continuous relay of buckets full of water passed rapidly along the lower deck and down the hatchway by the starboard watch—whose turn it was below, but whom the alarm of fire had caused to rouse out again to duty—so that in half an hour from the discovery of the outbreak all danger was over and the last spark quenched.
“Thank God!” said Kate Meldrum, with heart-felt earnestness, her lovely eyes full of tears as she looked up into Frank’s face when he came to tell her the news. “I thought all hope was gone, you were so long in coming!”
“But were you not certain I would come?” asked Frank anxiously.
“Yes, I had confidence in your promise.”
“Thank you,” was all he replied; but his look spoke volumes.
At the same time another mutual “confidence game” was being played in a different part of the ship; but in this the understanding was between Mr Meldrum and Ben Boltrope, the ship’s carpenter and ex-man-o’-war’s-man.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the latter when the two were parting on the main deck after the termination of their labours in the lower hold. “I recognised your honour the moment you came on deck that morning of the storm in the Bay of Biscay. I couldn’t mistake the cut of your honour’s jib, sir, begging your pardon.”
“Well, I’m sure I did not recognise you, or you may be sure I would have spoken to you. Still, you need not blurt out my identity to everybody, you know.”
“Sartinly not, your honour. I’ll keep mum, sir, never you fear, though I don’t forget the old—”
“Stop,” said Mr Meldrum, changing the subject. “I’ve no doubt all hands are pretty dry after all the heat we’ve been in down below, so, with the captain’s permission, I’ll send something forward for them to splice the main brace with.”
“Aye, aye, your honour,” replied Ben; “a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.”
And the two parted, the one going forward to the forecastle and the other aft into the saloon.
Chapter Eight.An Ocean Waif.“Wa-al, Cap,” said Mr Lathrope after dinner that day, when he was sipping his coffee on top of the skylight, which he had selected for his favourite seat when on the poop, the “location,” as he expressed it, having the advantage of possessing plenty of “stowage room” for his long legs—“I guess we’ve had a long spell o’ calms, and a tarnation slitheration of a del-uge, ’sides being now a’most chawed up by a fire; so I kalkerlate its ’bout time we hed sunthen’ of a breeze. Thunder, mister, it’s kinder gettin’ played out, I reckon, knocking about in these air latitoods, without nary going ahead even once in a blue moon!”“Oh, the wind isn’t far off now,” replied Captain Dinks, “you see those porpoises there, passing us now and playing astern? Well, they are a certain sign of a breeze soon coming from the quarter towards which they’re swimming.”“Wa-al, I dew hope so,” drawled the American, with a sigh and a yawn of weariness, “guess I shall snooze till it comes;” and he proceeded to carry his thought into execution.Captain Dinks turned out a true prophet.A little later on in the day a breeze sprang up, that subsequently developed into the long-wished-for south-east trade-wind, thus enabling the good ship to bid adieu to the Doldrums and cross the equator, which feat she accomplished two days after the fire.From the line—which Master Negus was able to see distinctly with the aid of one of Mr McCarthy’s fine red hairs neatly adjusted across the object-glass of his telescope—the ship had a splendid run over to the South American coast, following the usual western course adopted by vessels going round the Cape of Good Hope, in order to have the advantage afterwards of the westerly winds and get well to the south; and, when she had reached the thirty-fourth parallel of longitude and latitude 18 degrees 22 minutes south—that is, about midway between Bahia and Rio Janeiro, her head was turned to the south-east with light winds from the northward and eastward, and she began to make way towards the “Cape of Storms,” after getting to the southward of which she would have a straight run due east to New Zealand.TheNancy Bell’sbows, however, were not long pointed in the direction of the rising sun, when another incident occurred to vary the monotony of the voyage—although, fortunately, this time not a second fire, nor any peril from the sea to those on board.It was the second day of her south-easterly course; and from the wind blowing fresh from the north-east, right on her port quarter, with fine bright weather, the ship was running pretty free, all sail being set, at the rate of over twelve knots an hour, leaving a wake behind her like a mill-race.“Arrah, sure, and I call, that goin’!” exclaimed the first mate exultantly, as he walked up and down the poop quickly—just as if his doing so helped the vessel along, in the same way as one sees the coxswain of a boat bending backwards and forwards to keep time with the rowers!“Yes, like one o’clock!” chimed in Captain Dinks, showing an equal enthusiasm. “The old girl is walking away with us at a fine rate, McCarthy. I wouldn’t be surprised if we logged three hundred by noon.”“And fifty more tacked on it, sorr,” said the mate. “Why, we’ve done twelve knots ivry hour of my watch; and Adams tould me she wor running the same at eight bells. By the piper that played before Moses, it’s a beauty she is—she’d bate aisy the fastest tay clipper from Shanghai!”“Aye, that she would!” chorused the captain. “What do you think of the ship now, Miss Kate?” he added to that young lady, who was leaning against the bulwarks to leeward, looking out over the sea. She was all alone with her thoughts, Frank Harness being away forwards attending to the cutting out of a new main-topgallant sail to replace the one they had lost in the storm, the one they were now using being old and unable to stand any further rough usage.—“You are not ashamed of the oldNancy, now, eh?”“Oh no, Captain Dinks,” answered Kate, “I never was, even in her worst moments when we were becalmed; and I’m sure I couldn’t be now, when she is sailing along so beautifully; but, what is that speck out there, captain, away to the right—is it a bird, or what?”“Eh, my dear?” said the skipper, looking in the direction the girl had pointed—“a bird? no, by Jove, it looks like a sail of a boat well down on the horizon. Here, McCarthy, hand me your glass.”Captain Dinks seemed even more excited than he had been a moment before when he spoke of the vessel’s progress; for, taking the telescope that the mate handed him, he scrutinised eagerly the object Kate had noticed.“Good heavens, it is a boat!” he exclaimed presently, “and I think I can see a man in the stern-sheets, though I’m not quite sure: at all events, I’ll run down and overhaul it, for it would never do to abandon a poor fellow in distress; no English sailor would think of such a thing! This is all your doing, Miss Kate, you and your pretty eyes, which have the best sight of any on board. We’ll have to put the ship about, McCarthy,” he added to the mate; “we can’t fetch that boat on this tack.”“Hands ’bout ship!” roared the mate, in response to the captain’s implied wish; and, immediately, there was much running to and fro on the decks, and a yelling out of orders and hoarse “aye ayes” in reply—a striking difference to the quiet that had reigned a moment or two before, when the ship was slipping along through the water with the wind on her quarter, never a sail having to be shifted or a rope pulled, and only the man at the wheel for the time being having anything to do out of the thirty odd hands on board.“Helm’s a lee!” cried the captain, and the head-sheets were let go; “raise tacks and sheets!” and the fore-tacks and main sheets were cast off; while the weather crossjack braces and the lee main braces were belayed, ready to be let go at a moment’s notice, and the opposite braces hauled taut. “Mainsail haul!” then sang out the captain when these preparations were completed; when the braces being let go, the yards swung round like a top. The after yards were subsequently braced up and belayed, the main sheet hauled aft, the spanker eased over to leeward, and the watch stood by the head braces.“Let go and haul!” was the next word of command; upon which the weather fore-braces were let go and those to leeward hauled in by the men forward under the personal supervision of Mr McCarthy, after which the men boarded the fore-tack and hauled down the jib-sheet, clapping a tackle on it as it blew fresh; and theNancy Bell, braced round on the starboard tack and with the wind a little more aft than when she was running eastwards just now, stood towards the boat that Kate had been the first to perceive, drifting a bout upon the wild ocean so far away from land.At this juncture, Frank Harness sprang up into the fore cross-trees to con the ship, by Captain Dink’s directions; and presently his orders to the steersman could be heard ringing out clear and distinct above the creaking of the cordage and the wash of the sea alongside—those on the poop, listening to all they could hear with intense eagerness, and waiting for the moment when they could see for themselves the object of the ship’s quest.“Keep her up a bit—steady!”“Aye, aye, sir; steady it is!”“Port!”“Port it is!”“Steady!”“Steady it is!”“Luff!”“Aye, aye, sir!”“Keep her so!”“There is a man in her, sir!” Frank now called out in a different tone of voice; “I can see him distinctly! He is trying to wave a handkerchief or something. He looks almost dead, poor fellow!”The excitement on board at hearing this piece of news became all the more intensified.“Are we nearing him?” shouted out Captain Dinks.“Oh yes, sir; the boat bears now broad on the weather beam. Keep her steady as she is, and we can round-to close alongside. Look out, we’re getting pretty close now!”“Look out forward there!” cried the captain: but several hands were there already with the first mate at their head, a coil of rope in his hand, on the watch to heave it over the boat as soon as she was approached near enough.“Time to come about, sir,” hailed Frank from the cross-trees; and, “Hands ’bout ship!” roared out Captain Dinks, almost in the same breath.During the bustle that ensued, those on the poop could not see what was going on forward; but when theNancy Bellpaid off again from the wind on the port tack—thus resuming again what had been her previous course before the boat had been sighted—it was found that the object for which they had gone out of their way was safely alongside.It was a shocking sight!Four dead bodies were stretched, in every conceivable attitude of agony, across the thwarts and in the bottom of the boat, which from its shape had evidently belonged to some whaling vessel; while, sitting up in the stern-sheets, close to the helm, which his feeble hands were powerless to grasp, was the living skeleton of another sailor, whose eyes seemed starting out from their deep sockets and whose lips appeared feebly endeavouring to shape the syllables of “wa-ter!”In a second, Mr McCarthy had leaped down into the floating coffin as it towed alongside; and, lifting the body of the solitary survivor from amidst the corpses of his dead comrades, handed the light load—for the poor, starved creature did not weigh more than a child of ten, although a man of over six feet in height—up to hands that as carefully received him; and then, leaping back again on board himself, the whale-boat was scuttled by a plank being knocked out of her bottom and cut adrift, to sink with her mortal freight into the common grave of those who die on the deep, the stench from the remains being horrible and permeating the whole ship while the boat was in contact with her.The rescued sailor was placed in a cot and given at first a small quantity of thin soup which Snowball was busily concocting for the cabin dinner, and after that, nourishment at intervals. By these restorative measures, in a day or two, he recovered sufficiently to be able to tell who he was and how he came to be in such a sad plight.He was a Norwegian sailor, he said, and belonged to an American whaler which had been on her voyage home after a three years’ whaling cruise in the South Pacific. On rounding Cape Horn, they had encountered a fearful storm which had nearly dismasted the ship and washed the master and five hands overboard. He and four others had launched the only boat they had left over the side, trying to pick up their shipmates; but, the sea was too heavy for them, and when they endeavoured to return, they found they could not fetch their vessel again, which perhaps was just as well, for soon afterwards they saw her go down stern foremost. After that, they ran before the wind for several days and nights—how long he could not tell—until his four comrades had died from exhaustion, and he himself, he believed, was just on the point of giving up his life when providence sent theNancy Bellto succour him.“Ach der goot Gott!” said the man in his half German, half English way, speaking brokenly and with tears in his eyes. “Der lieber Gott! I shall nevare vergersen sie nevare!”They had had, he said, a breaker of water in the boat when they quitted the whaler, but this was soon drunk out, and although they had occasionally something to eat, catching several fish, they suffered terribly from thirst. It was that which had killed his comrades mainly. As for him, he bore it better than them, but it must have been eight days since a drop of liquid had passed his lips.“Golly, dat am bad,” said Snowball in the galley that evening, when some of the hands gathered round the caboose to have a comfortable pipe and talk over the events of the day. “Dat orful bad, eight day widout grub or liquor! dis niggah not able ’tomach dat for sure!”“Lor’, Snowball, that’s nothing when you are used to it,” said Ben Boltrope, the man-o’-war’s-man, who was pretty well king of the forecastle by reason of his service in the navy and general smartness as a seaman. “What is eight days in a boat without grub, when you’ve got to go ten, as I’ve done, besides wandering about on a sandy shore after swimming for a day and night to save my life? Why, that’s nothing!”“Goramighty, Massa Boltrope, you no swim ten day widout habin’ notin’ to eat, nor no water, hey?” said Snowball in astonishment.“No, you blessed donkey, I didn’t say that,” replied the worthy Jack tar. “I said as how I had gone without grub or water for ten days after swimming for more than twelve hours.”“Dat berry rum for sure,” said the darkey—“don’t know how to belieb dat, no how!”
“Wa-al, Cap,” said Mr Lathrope after dinner that day, when he was sipping his coffee on top of the skylight, which he had selected for his favourite seat when on the poop, the “location,” as he expressed it, having the advantage of possessing plenty of “stowage room” for his long legs—“I guess we’ve had a long spell o’ calms, and a tarnation slitheration of a del-uge, ’sides being now a’most chawed up by a fire; so I kalkerlate its ’bout time we hed sunthen’ of a breeze. Thunder, mister, it’s kinder gettin’ played out, I reckon, knocking about in these air latitoods, without nary going ahead even once in a blue moon!”
“Oh, the wind isn’t far off now,” replied Captain Dinks, “you see those porpoises there, passing us now and playing astern? Well, they are a certain sign of a breeze soon coming from the quarter towards which they’re swimming.”
“Wa-al, I dew hope so,” drawled the American, with a sigh and a yawn of weariness, “guess I shall snooze till it comes;” and he proceeded to carry his thought into execution.
Captain Dinks turned out a true prophet.
A little later on in the day a breeze sprang up, that subsequently developed into the long-wished-for south-east trade-wind, thus enabling the good ship to bid adieu to the Doldrums and cross the equator, which feat she accomplished two days after the fire.
From the line—which Master Negus was able to see distinctly with the aid of one of Mr McCarthy’s fine red hairs neatly adjusted across the object-glass of his telescope—the ship had a splendid run over to the South American coast, following the usual western course adopted by vessels going round the Cape of Good Hope, in order to have the advantage afterwards of the westerly winds and get well to the south; and, when she had reached the thirty-fourth parallel of longitude and latitude 18 degrees 22 minutes south—that is, about midway between Bahia and Rio Janeiro, her head was turned to the south-east with light winds from the northward and eastward, and she began to make way towards the “Cape of Storms,” after getting to the southward of which she would have a straight run due east to New Zealand.
TheNancy Bell’sbows, however, were not long pointed in the direction of the rising sun, when another incident occurred to vary the monotony of the voyage—although, fortunately, this time not a second fire, nor any peril from the sea to those on board.
It was the second day of her south-easterly course; and from the wind blowing fresh from the north-east, right on her port quarter, with fine bright weather, the ship was running pretty free, all sail being set, at the rate of over twelve knots an hour, leaving a wake behind her like a mill-race.
“Arrah, sure, and I call, that goin’!” exclaimed the first mate exultantly, as he walked up and down the poop quickly—just as if his doing so helped the vessel along, in the same way as one sees the coxswain of a boat bending backwards and forwards to keep time with the rowers!
“Yes, like one o’clock!” chimed in Captain Dinks, showing an equal enthusiasm. “The old girl is walking away with us at a fine rate, McCarthy. I wouldn’t be surprised if we logged three hundred by noon.”
“And fifty more tacked on it, sorr,” said the mate. “Why, we’ve done twelve knots ivry hour of my watch; and Adams tould me she wor running the same at eight bells. By the piper that played before Moses, it’s a beauty she is—she’d bate aisy the fastest tay clipper from Shanghai!”
“Aye, that she would!” chorused the captain. “What do you think of the ship now, Miss Kate?” he added to that young lady, who was leaning against the bulwarks to leeward, looking out over the sea. She was all alone with her thoughts, Frank Harness being away forwards attending to the cutting out of a new main-topgallant sail to replace the one they had lost in the storm, the one they were now using being old and unable to stand any further rough usage.—“You are not ashamed of the oldNancy, now, eh?”
“Oh no, Captain Dinks,” answered Kate, “I never was, even in her worst moments when we were becalmed; and I’m sure I couldn’t be now, when she is sailing along so beautifully; but, what is that speck out there, captain, away to the right—is it a bird, or what?”
“Eh, my dear?” said the skipper, looking in the direction the girl had pointed—“a bird? no, by Jove, it looks like a sail of a boat well down on the horizon. Here, McCarthy, hand me your glass.”
Captain Dinks seemed even more excited than he had been a moment before when he spoke of the vessel’s progress; for, taking the telescope that the mate handed him, he scrutinised eagerly the object Kate had noticed.
“Good heavens, it is a boat!” he exclaimed presently, “and I think I can see a man in the stern-sheets, though I’m not quite sure: at all events, I’ll run down and overhaul it, for it would never do to abandon a poor fellow in distress; no English sailor would think of such a thing! This is all your doing, Miss Kate, you and your pretty eyes, which have the best sight of any on board. We’ll have to put the ship about, McCarthy,” he added to the mate; “we can’t fetch that boat on this tack.”
“Hands ’bout ship!” roared the mate, in response to the captain’s implied wish; and, immediately, there was much running to and fro on the decks, and a yelling out of orders and hoarse “aye ayes” in reply—a striking difference to the quiet that had reigned a moment or two before, when the ship was slipping along through the water with the wind on her quarter, never a sail having to be shifted or a rope pulled, and only the man at the wheel for the time being having anything to do out of the thirty odd hands on board.
“Helm’s a lee!” cried the captain, and the head-sheets were let go; “raise tacks and sheets!” and the fore-tacks and main sheets were cast off; while the weather crossjack braces and the lee main braces were belayed, ready to be let go at a moment’s notice, and the opposite braces hauled taut. “Mainsail haul!” then sang out the captain when these preparations were completed; when the braces being let go, the yards swung round like a top. The after yards were subsequently braced up and belayed, the main sheet hauled aft, the spanker eased over to leeward, and the watch stood by the head braces.
“Let go and haul!” was the next word of command; upon which the weather fore-braces were let go and those to leeward hauled in by the men forward under the personal supervision of Mr McCarthy, after which the men boarded the fore-tack and hauled down the jib-sheet, clapping a tackle on it as it blew fresh; and theNancy Bell, braced round on the starboard tack and with the wind a little more aft than when she was running eastwards just now, stood towards the boat that Kate had been the first to perceive, drifting a bout upon the wild ocean so far away from land.
At this juncture, Frank Harness sprang up into the fore cross-trees to con the ship, by Captain Dink’s directions; and presently his orders to the steersman could be heard ringing out clear and distinct above the creaking of the cordage and the wash of the sea alongside—those on the poop, listening to all they could hear with intense eagerness, and waiting for the moment when they could see for themselves the object of the ship’s quest.
“Keep her up a bit—steady!”
“Aye, aye, sir; steady it is!”
“Port!”
“Port it is!”
“Steady!”
“Steady it is!”
“Luff!”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Keep her so!”
“There is a man in her, sir!” Frank now called out in a different tone of voice; “I can see him distinctly! He is trying to wave a handkerchief or something. He looks almost dead, poor fellow!”
The excitement on board at hearing this piece of news became all the more intensified.
“Are we nearing him?” shouted out Captain Dinks.
“Oh yes, sir; the boat bears now broad on the weather beam. Keep her steady as she is, and we can round-to close alongside. Look out, we’re getting pretty close now!”
“Look out forward there!” cried the captain: but several hands were there already with the first mate at their head, a coil of rope in his hand, on the watch to heave it over the boat as soon as she was approached near enough.
“Time to come about, sir,” hailed Frank from the cross-trees; and, “Hands ’bout ship!” roared out Captain Dinks, almost in the same breath.
During the bustle that ensued, those on the poop could not see what was going on forward; but when theNancy Bellpaid off again from the wind on the port tack—thus resuming again what had been her previous course before the boat had been sighted—it was found that the object for which they had gone out of their way was safely alongside.
It was a shocking sight!
Four dead bodies were stretched, in every conceivable attitude of agony, across the thwarts and in the bottom of the boat, which from its shape had evidently belonged to some whaling vessel; while, sitting up in the stern-sheets, close to the helm, which his feeble hands were powerless to grasp, was the living skeleton of another sailor, whose eyes seemed starting out from their deep sockets and whose lips appeared feebly endeavouring to shape the syllables of “wa-ter!”
In a second, Mr McCarthy had leaped down into the floating coffin as it towed alongside; and, lifting the body of the solitary survivor from amidst the corpses of his dead comrades, handed the light load—for the poor, starved creature did not weigh more than a child of ten, although a man of over six feet in height—up to hands that as carefully received him; and then, leaping back again on board himself, the whale-boat was scuttled by a plank being knocked out of her bottom and cut adrift, to sink with her mortal freight into the common grave of those who die on the deep, the stench from the remains being horrible and permeating the whole ship while the boat was in contact with her.
The rescued sailor was placed in a cot and given at first a small quantity of thin soup which Snowball was busily concocting for the cabin dinner, and after that, nourishment at intervals. By these restorative measures, in a day or two, he recovered sufficiently to be able to tell who he was and how he came to be in such a sad plight.
He was a Norwegian sailor, he said, and belonged to an American whaler which had been on her voyage home after a three years’ whaling cruise in the South Pacific. On rounding Cape Horn, they had encountered a fearful storm which had nearly dismasted the ship and washed the master and five hands overboard. He and four others had launched the only boat they had left over the side, trying to pick up their shipmates; but, the sea was too heavy for them, and when they endeavoured to return, they found they could not fetch their vessel again, which perhaps was just as well, for soon afterwards they saw her go down stern foremost. After that, they ran before the wind for several days and nights—how long he could not tell—until his four comrades had died from exhaustion, and he himself, he believed, was just on the point of giving up his life when providence sent theNancy Bellto succour him.
“Ach der goot Gott!” said the man in his half German, half English way, speaking brokenly and with tears in his eyes. “Der lieber Gott! I shall nevare vergersen sie nevare!”
They had had, he said, a breaker of water in the boat when they quitted the whaler, but this was soon drunk out, and although they had occasionally something to eat, catching several fish, they suffered terribly from thirst. It was that which had killed his comrades mainly. As for him, he bore it better than them, but it must have been eight days since a drop of liquid had passed his lips.
“Golly, dat am bad,” said Snowball in the galley that evening, when some of the hands gathered round the caboose to have a comfortable pipe and talk over the events of the day. “Dat orful bad, eight day widout grub or liquor! dis niggah not able ’tomach dat for sure!”
“Lor’, Snowball, that’s nothing when you are used to it,” said Ben Boltrope, the man-o’-war’s-man, who was pretty well king of the forecastle by reason of his service in the navy and general smartness as a seaman. “What is eight days in a boat without grub, when you’ve got to go ten, as I’ve done, besides wandering about on a sandy shore after swimming for a day and night to save my life? Why, that’s nothing!”
“Goramighty, Massa Boltrope, you no swim ten day widout habin’ notin’ to eat, nor no water, hey?” said Snowball in astonishment.
“No, you blessed donkey, I didn’t say that,” replied the worthy Jack tar. “I said as how I had gone without grub or water for ten days after swimming for more than twelve hours.”
“Dat berry rum for sure,” said the darkey—“don’t know how to belieb dat, no how!”