CHAPTER NINE.
NEWS FROM HOME--A GAM.
The death of poor Fred Borders cast a gloom over the ship for many days.Every one had respected, and many of us had loved the lad, so that wemourned for him long and truly. But a sailor's life is such a roughone, requiring so much energy and hearty good-will to his work, that hecannot afford to allow the sorrows of his heart to sit long on hiscountenance. In a day or two after no one would have supposed we hadlost one of our best men. Whales appeared in great numbers around us.The old cry of "There she blows!" ran out frequently from the mast-head,and the answering cry from the captain, "Where away?" was followed bythe "Stand by to lower!--lower away." Then came the chase, with all itsdangers and excitement--the driving of the harpoon, the sudden rush ofthe struck fish, the smoke and sparks of fire from the logger-head, theplunging of the lance, the spouting blood, the "flurry" at the end, andthe wild cheer as we beheld our prize floating calmly on the sea. Andin the midst of such work we forgot for a time the solemn scene we hadso recently witnessed. But our hearts were not so light as before, andalthough we did not show it, I knew full well that many a joke waschecked, and many a laugh repressed, for the memory of our deadshipmate.
The man who was most affected by his death was the captain; but we werenot prepared for the great change that soon appeared in his manner andconduct. After a time he laughed with the rest of us at a good joke,and cheered as loud as the best when a big fish turned belly up, but hisbehaviour to us became more gentle and kind, and he entirely gave up thehabit of swearing. He also forbade working on Sunday. Many a whalehave I seen sporting and spouting near us on that day, but never did welower a boat or touch a harpoon on Sunday. Some of the men grumbled atthis, and complained of it to each other, but they never spoke so as tolet the captain hear, and they soon gave up their grumbling, for themost of us were well pleased with the change, and all of us had agreedto it.
The first Sunday after Fred's death, the captain assembled the crew onthe quarter-deck, and spoke to us about it.
"My lads," said he, "I've called you aft to make a proposal that mayperhaps surprise some of you. Up to this time, you know very well,there has been little difference aboard this ship between Saturday andSunday. Since our poor shipmate died I have been thinkin' much on thismatter, and I've come to the conclusion that we shall rest from all workon Sunday, except such as must be done to work the ship. Now, lads, youknow me well enough by this time. I have never been a religious man allmy life, and I don't pretend to say that I'm one now. I'm not verylearned on this matter, and can't explain myself very well; but whatthink you, lads, shall we give the whales a rest on Sundays?"
We all agreed to this at once, for the effect of the captain's speechwas great upon us. It was not so much what he said, as the way in whichhe said it. He was by nature a bold, determined man, who never flinchedfrom danger or duty, and when we heard him talking in that way we couldscarcely believe our ears.
This was all that was said about the matter between us and the captain,but we had many a hot discussion in the forecastle amongst ourselvesafter that. Some were in favour of the new move, and said, stoutly,that the captain was a sensible fellow. Others said he was becoming anold wife, and that no luck would follow the ship. In the course oftime, however, we found the benefit of the change in every way; and thegrumblers were silenced, because in spite of their wise shakings of thehead, we filled the ship with oil as full as she could hold, much soonerthan we had expected.
Shoregoing people have but little notion of the ease with which theheart of a jack-tar is made to rejoice when he is out on a long voyage.His pleasures and amusements are so few that he is thankful to make themost of whatever is thrown in his way. In the whale-fisheries, nodoubt, he has more than enough of excitement, but after a time he getsused to this, and begins to long for a little variety--and of all thepleasures that fall to his lot, that which delights him most is to havea gam with another ship.
Now, a gam is the meeting of two or more whale-ships, their keepingcompany for a time, and the exchanging of visits by the crews. It isneither more nor less than a jollification on the sea,--the inviting ofyour friends to feast and make merry in your floating house. There isthis difference, however, between a gam at sea and a party on land, thatyour _friends_ on the ocean are men whom you perhaps never saw before,and whom you will likely never meet again. There is also anotherdifference--there are no ladies at a gam. This is a great want, for manis but a rugged creature when away from the refining influence of woman;but, in the circumstances, of course, it can't be helped.
We had a gam one day, on this voyage, with a Yankee whale-ship, and afirst-rate gam it was, for, as the Yankee had gammed three days beforewith another English ship, we got a lot of news second-hand; and, as wehad not seen a new face for many months, we felt towards those Yankeeslike brothers, and swallowed all they had to tell us like men starvingfor news.
It was on a fine calm morning, just after breakfast, that we fell inwith this ship. We had seen no whales for a day or two, but we did notmind that, for our hold was almost full of oil-barrels. Tom Lokins andI were leaning over the starboard bulwarks, watching the small fish thatevery now and then darted through the clear-blue water like arrows, andsmoking our pipes in silence. Tom looked uncommonly grave, and I knewthat he was having some deep and knowing thoughts of his own, whichwould leak out in time. All at once he took his pipe from his mouth andstared earnestly at the horizon.
"Bob," said he, speaking very slowly, "if there ain't a ship right offthe starboard beam, I'm a Dutchman."
"You don't mean it!" said I, starting with a feeling of excitement.
Before another word could be uttered, the cry of "Sail ho!" came ringingdown from the mast-head. Instantly the quiet of the morning was broken;sleepers sprang up and rubbed their eyes, the men below rushed wildly upthe hatchway, the cook came tearing out of his own private den,flourishing a soup-ladle in one hand and his tormentors in the other,the steward came tumbling up with a lump of dough in his fist that hehad forgot to throw down in his haste, and the captain bolted up fromthe cabin without his hat.
"Where away?" cried he, with more than his usual energy.
"Right off the starboard beam, sir."
"Square the yards! Look alive, my hearties," was the next order; foralthough the calm sea was like a sheet of glass, a light air, justsufficient to fill our top-gallant sails, enabled us to creep throughthe water.
"Hurrah!" shouted the men as we sprang to obey.
"What does she look like?" roared the captain.
"A big ship, sir, I think," replied the look-out, "but I can only justmake out the top of her main t-gallan' s'l."--(Sailors scorn to speak of_top-gallant sails_).
Gradually, one by one, the white sails of the stranger rose up likecloudlets out of the sea, and our hearts beat high with hope andexpectation as we beheld the towering canvas of a full-rigged ship riseslowly into view.
"Show our colours," said the captain.
In a moment the Union Jack of Old England was waving at the mast-head inthe gentle breeze, and we watched anxiously for a reply. The strangerwas polite; his colours flew up a moment after, and displayed theStripes and Stars of America.
"A Yankee!" exclaimed some of the men in a tone of slightdisappointment.
I may remark, that our disappointment arose simply from the fact thatthere was no chance, as we supposed, of getting news from "home" out ofa ship that must have sailed last from America. For the rest, we carednot whether they were Yankees or Britons--they were men who could speakthe English tongue, that was enough for us.
"Never mind, boys," cried one, "we'll have a jolly gam; that's a fact."
"So we will," said another, "and I'll get news of my mad Irish cousin,Terrence O'Flannagan, who went out to seek his fortin in Ameriky withtwo shillin's and a broken knife in his pocket, and it's been said he'sgot into a government situation o' some sort connected with the jails,--whether as captain, or leftenant o' poli
ce, or turnkey, I'm not rightlysure."
"More likely as a life-tenant of one of the cells," observed Bill Blunt,laughing.
"Don't speak ill of a better man than yerself behind his back," retortedthe owner of the Irish cousin.
"Stand by to lower the jolly-boat," cried the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Lower away!"
In a few minutes we were leaping over the calm sea in the direction ofthe strange ship, for the breeze had died down, and we were too eager tomeet with new faces, and to hear the sound of new voices, to wait forthe wind.
To our joy we found that the Yankee had had a gam (as I have alreadysaid) with an English ship a few days before, so we returned to ourvessel loaded with old newspapers from England, having invited thecaptain and crew of the Yankee to come aboard of us and spend the day.
While preparation was being made for the reception of our friends, wegot hold of two of the old newspapers, and Tom Lokins seized one, whileBill Blunt got the other, and both men sat down on the windlass toretail the news to a crowd of eager men who tried hard to listen to bothat once, and so could make nothing out of either.
"Hold hard, Tom Lokins," cried one. "What's that you say about theEmperor, Bill?"
"The Emperor of Roosia," said Bill Blunt, reading slowly, and withdifficulty, "is--stop a bit, messmates, wot _can_ this word be?--theEmperor of Roosia is--"
"Blowed up with gunpowder, and shattered to a thousand pieces," said TomLokins, raising his voice with excitement, as he read from _his_ paperan account of the blowing up of a mountain fortress in India.
"Oh! come, I say, one at a time, if you please," cried a harpooner; "afeller can't git a word of sense out of sich a jumble."
"Come, messmates," cried two or three voices, as Tom stopped suddenly,and looked hard at the paper, "go ahead! wot have ye got there thatmakes ye look as wise as an owl? Has war been and broke out with theFrench?"
"I do believe he's readin' the births, marriages, and deaths," said oneof the men, peeping over Tom's shoulder.
"Read 'em out, then, can't ye?" cried another.
"I say, Bill Blunt, I think this consarns _you_," cried Tom: "isn't yoursweetheart's name Susan Croft?"
"That's a fact," said Bill, looking up from his paper, "and who has gota word to say agin the prettiest lass in all Liverpool?"
"Nobody's got a word to say against her," replied Tom; "but she'smarried, that's all."
Bill Blunt leaped up as if he had been shot, and the blood rushed to hisface, as he seized the paper, and tried to find the place.
"Where is it, Tom? let me see it with my own two eyes. Oh, here it is!"
The poor man's face grew paler and paler as he read the followingwords:--
"Married at Liverpool, on the 5th inst, by the Reverend Charles Manson,Edward Gordon, Esquire, to Susan, youngest daughter of Admiral Croft--"
A perfect roar of laughter drowned the remainder of the sentence.
"Well done, Bill Blunt--Mister Blunt, we'll have to call him hereafter,"said Tom, with a grim smile; "I had no notion you thought so much o'yourself as to aim at an admiral's daughter."
"All right, my hearties, chaff away!" said Bill, fetching a deep sigh ofrelief, while a broad grin played on his weather-beaten visage."There's _two_ Susan Crofts, that's all; but I wouldn't give _my_ Susanfor all the Admirals' daughters that ever walked in shoe-leather."
"Hallo! here come the Yankees," cried the captain, coming on deck atthat moment.
Our newspapers were thrown down at once, and we prepared to receive ourguests, who, we could see, had just put off from their ship in twoboats. But before they had come within a mile of us, their attention,as well as ours, was riveted on a most extraordinary sight.
Not more than a hundred yards ahead of our ship, a whale came suddenlyto the surface of the water, seeming, by its wild motions, to be in astate of terror. It continued for some time to struggle, and lash thewhole sea around it into a white foam.
At once the boats were lowered from both ships, and we went after thisfish, but his motions were so violent, that we found it utterlyimpossible to get near enough to throw a harpoon. When we hadapproached somewhat closely, we discovered that it had been attacked bya killer fish, which was fully twenty feet long, and stuck to it like aleech. The monster's struggles were made in trying to shake itself freeof this tremendous enemy, but it could not accomplish this. The killerheld him by the under jaw, and hung on there, while the whale threwhimself out of the water in his agony, with his great mouth open like ahuge cavern, and the blood flowing so fast from the wound that the seawas dyed for a long distance round. The killer fought like a bulldog.It held on until the whale was exhausted, but they passed away from usin such a confused struggle, that a harpoon could not be fixed for anhour after we first saw them. On this being done, the killer let go,and the whale, being already half dead, was soon killed.
The Yankee boats were the first to come up with this fish, so the prizebelonged to them. We were well pleased at this, as we could afford tolet them have it, seeing that we could scarcely have found room to stowaway the oil in our hold. It was the Yankees' first fish, too, so theywere in great spirits about it, and towed it to their ship, singing"Yankee-doodle" with all their might.
As they passed our boat the captain hailed them.
"I wish you joy of your first fish, sir," said he to the Yankee captain.
"Thank you, stranger. I guess we're in luck, though it ain't a big one.I say, what sort o' brute was that, that had hold of him? Never seedsich a crittur in all my life."
"He's a killer," said our captain.
"A killer! Guess he just is, and no mistake: if we hadn't helped him,he'd have done the job for himself! What does he kill him for?"
"To eat him, but I'm told he only eats the tongue. You'll not forgetthat you've promised to gam with us to-night," cried our captain, asthey were about to commence pulling again.
"All right, stranger, one half will come to-night, before sundown;t'other half to-morrow, if the calm holds. Good-day. Give way, lads."
The men dipped their oars, and resumed their song, while we pulled backto our ship. We did not offer to help them, because the fish was asmall one, and the distance they had to go not great.
It was near sunset when, according to promise, the Yankees came onboard, and spent a long evening with us. They were a free,open-hearted, boastful, conceited, good-humoured set of fellows, and ajolly night we had of it in the forecastle, while the mates and captainswere enjoying themselves and spinning their yarns in the cabin.
Of course, we began with demands for home news, and, when we had pumpedout of them every drop they had, we began to sing songs and to spinyarns. And it was now that my friend Tom Lokins came out strong, andwent on at such a rate, that he quite won the hearts of our guests. Tomwas not noisy, and he was slow in his talk, but he had the knack oftelling a good story; he never used a wrong word, or a word too many,and, having a great deal of humour, men could not help listening when hebegan to talk.
After this we had a dance, and here I became useful, being able to playScotch reels and Irish jigs on the fiddle. Then we had songs and yarnsagain. Some could tell of furious fights with whales that made ourblood boil; others could talk of the green fields at home, until wealmost fancied we were boys again; and some could not tell stories atall. They had little to say, and that little they said ill; and Inoticed that many of those who were perfect bores would cry loudest tobe heard, though none of us wanted to hear them. We used to quench suchfellows by calling loudly for a song with a rousing chorus.
It was not till the night was far spent, and the silver moon was sailingthrough the starry sky, that the Yankees left us, and rowed away with aparting cheer.
CHAPTER TEN.
RETURN HOME.
Six months after our "gam" with the Yankees Tom Lokins and I foundourselves seated once more in the little garret beside my dear oldmother.
"Deary me, Robert, how changed ye ar
e!"
"Changed, mother! I should think so! If you'd gone through all thatI've done and seen since we last sat together in this room you'd bechanged too."
"And have ye really seen the whales, my boy?" continued my mother,stroking my face with her old hand.
"Seen them? ay, and killed them too--many of them."
"You've been in danger, my son," said my mother earnestly, "but God haspreserved you safe through it all."
"Ay, mother, He has preserved my life in the midst of many dangers,"said I, "for which I am most thankful."
There was a short silence after this, during which my mother and I gazedearnestly at each other, and Tom Lokins smoked his pipe and stared atthe fire.
"Robert, how big is a whale?" inquired my mother suddenly.
"How big? why, it's as big as a small ship, only it's longer, and notquite so fat."
"Robert," replied my mother gravely, "ye didn't used to tell untruths;ye must be jokin'."
"Joking, mother, I was never more in earnest in my life. Why, I tellyou that I've seen, ay, and helped to cut up, whales that were more thansixty feet long, with heads so big that their mouths could have taken ina boat. Why, mother, I declare to you that you could put this room intoa whale's mouth, and you and Tom and I could sit round this table andtake our tea upon his tongue quite comfortable. Isn't that true, Tom?"
My mother looked at Tom, who removed his pipe, puffed a cloud of smoke,and nodded his head twice very decidedly.
"Moreover," said I, "a whale is so big and strong, that it can knock aboat right up into the air, and break in the sides of a ship. One day awhale fell right on top of one of our boats, and smashed it all to bits.Now that's a real truth!"
Again my mother looked at Tom Lokins, and again that worthy man puffedan immense cloud of smoke, and nodded his head more decidedly thanbefore. Being anxious to put to flight all her doubts at once, he saidsolemnly, "Old ooman, that's a fact!"
"Robert," said my mother, "tell me something about the whales."
Just as she said this the door opened, and in came the good oldgentleman with the nose like his cane-knob, and with as kind a heart asever beat in a human breast. My mother had already told me that he cameto see her regularly once a week, ever since I went to sea, except insummer, when he was away in the country, and that he had never allowedher to want for anything.
I need scarcely say that there was a hearty meeting between us three,and that we had much to say to each other. But in the midst of it allmy mother turned to the old gentleman and said--
"Robert was just going to tell me something about his adventures withthe whales."
"That's capital!" cried the old gentleman, rubbing his hands. "Come,Bob, my boy, let's hear about 'em."
Being thus invited, I consented to spin them a yarn. The old gentlemansettled himself in his chair, my mother smoothed her apron, folded herhands, and looked meekly into my face. Tom Lokins filled his pipe,stretched out his foot to poke the fire with the toe of his shoe, andbegan to smoke like a steam-engine; then I cleared my throat and beganmy tale, and before I had done talking that night, I had told them allthat I have told in this little book, almost word for word.
Thus ended my first voyage to the South Seas. Many and many a trip haveI made since then, and many a wonderful sight have I seen, both in thesouth and in the north. But if I were to write an account of all myadventures, my little book would grow into a big one; I must thereforecome to a close.
The profits of this voyage were so great, that I was enabled to place mymother in a position of comfort for the rest of her life, which, alas!was very short. She died about six months after my return. I nursedher to the end, and, when I laid her dear head in the grave, my heartseemed to die within me, for I felt that I had lost one of God's mostprecious gifts--an honest, gentle, pious mother.
I'm getting to be a old man now, but I am comfortable and happy, and asI have more than enough of this world's goods, and no family to carefor, my chief occupation is to look after the poor, and particularly theold women who live in my neighbourhood. After the work of the day isdone, I generally go and spend the evening with Tom Lokins, who livesnear by, and is stout and hearty still; or he comes and spends it withme, and, while we smoke our pipes together, we often fall to talkingabout those stirring days when, in the strength and hope of youth, wesailed together to the South Seas, and took to--_Fighting the Whales_.
THE END.
Fighting the Whales Page 9
