The Cruise of the Snowbird: A Story of Arctic Adventure
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Friend, who is nigh useverywhere, whether we are at peace and at home, or amidst the din andstrife of battle, or far away at sea, fighting for life 'mid billows andtempest. I myself have travelled much and far, and I have oftentimeshad reason to thank Him who gave me a mother who taught me to pray.
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Rat, tat, tat! at the red parlour door, where the McGregor family andRory are enjoying quiet conversation. Rat, tat, tat! and enter Peter,as Rory more than once lately remarked, not looking like the same Peterat all, at all; in fact, he was now a blue Peter, for he was rigged outfrom top to toe in a suit of bran new pilot, cut shipshape and sailorfashion, and very gay and sprightly Peter looked.
"Well, Peter," said Allan, "what is it? You look as if you had seen aghost."
"And I'm not so sure I haven't; but pray, sir, come to the window in thestaircase, and look for yourself."
Rory and Allan both followed Peter.
"What call you that?" cried the latter, pointing to a white sail thatcame skimming like a sea-bird across the dark bosom of the lake.
"Why, that is the cutter?" said Allan, in amazement.
"Or her ghost," said Peter, with a long face.
"Come on, Rory, to the creek," cried Allan, "and we'll meet her."
And they were just in time to see Ralph and his father land.
"Glad to see you both at last," said Allan; "but tell us what is themeaning of this? You went away to sell the _Flower_, and behold youcome back in her."
"My father," Ralph replied, "wouldn't part with her; he has bought her."
"Yes," said the knight smiling; "she is far too good to part with. Whenyou sail, I will accompany you a few miles on your voyage. And, pleaseGod, when you return, I will be the first to welcome you in that sameboy's yacht."
Even my youngest readers know how quickly time flies when one wishes itto linger, and the few days that intervened betwixt Ralph's return andthe sailing of the _Snowbird_ passed on eagle's wings. Helen McGregor,with a tiny bottle of wine that might have been sent from Elfinland forthe occasion, named the beautiful yacht. Then there was a dinner onboard, at which every one tried to seem gay, but failed for all that.
Next day the wind was fair, and no time was lost in getting the anchorup and setting sail for Inverness. The ladies accompanied theexpedition so far in the _Snowbird_, then farewells were said, blessingsmurmured, and once again the good yacht's foresails were filled, and shebore bravely away up the Moray Firth, the little cutter keeping hercompany until right off Fort George, when waving them once more a fondadieu, the _Flower of Arrandoon_ was put about, and very soon the pointof land hid her from their view.
The cruise of the _Snowbird_ had begun in earnest.
The breeze was light, but well aft, so all sail was clapped on her, andwith her head north and by east, she glided slowly onwards as if loth toleave the land. We will take this opportunity of having a look over thegoodly yacht, that is destined to be the home of our heroes for many aday to come.
The _Snowbird_ then was a schooner-yacht of nearly two hundred tons, aswell fitted and found for cruising in the northern seas as ingenuitycould make her. Rising and falling, rocking and nodding on the waves,with her white canvas spread out to the breeze, she looked a very prettycraft indeed. She had just enough free-board and enough breadth of beamto make her safe and comfortable in a sea-way. Her hull was paintedblack, her ports only being picked out with vermilion; her masts wererakish, but not too much so; her jibboom had the graceful bend thatsailors love to see, and every bit of her rigging, fore and aft, runningand standing, was as taut and trim as hands could make it, or eyes wishto gaze upon.
Her deck was flush both fore and aft, with never a cabin or housethereon, for the seas they would probably ship, in the wild ocean theywere about to traverse, would be little likely to brook obstruction.Her decks were as white as snow, her brass-work shone like burnishedgold, her binnacle would have been an ornament even in a drawing-room,every rope-end was neatly coiled, and not a bar nor a marling-spike wasout of its place.
Light and graceful though the _Snowbird_ appeared, she was neverthelesswell fortified and strong. Hers was a double skin, one that would belikely to resist the dread embrace of the ice king, while her bows wereof triple strength, and shod with bars of steel. Her ballast was waterin unshiftable iron tanks. Her boats were three in number, but of theseI may speak again, merely saying here that they were unique of the kind.
Let us go between decks and have a look at the living-rooms. Enteringby the after companion, then, we find ourselves in the passage thatleads to the dining-saloon. Here are the cabins of Ralph and Rory, and,as the door of each stands invitingly open, we take a peep in. They arelarge and roomy; the sofas are covered with crimson velvet, the curtainson the berths are of the same colour, and the pillows and counterpanestherein are white as the driven snow. There is a bookshelf in each,filled with the owner's favourite authors, a little swing table, and asilver spring-candlestick hung in gymbals, and the nattiest of marblebasin-stands; there is every comfort and luxury in these cabins, and thebulkheads are adorned with pictures, and, wonderful to say, these cabinsdo not even smell of varnish--no, but of sweet spring flowers, and Ineed not tell you who placed the vases there. Passing forward we enterthe saloon (_see plan_). Here is a comfortable table, luxuriousottoman, side-board, cushioned lockers, chairs, and stove, andeverywhere around us taste and luxury are displayed. It was the hand ofan artist that painted those panels, that devised and positioned themirrors, and that hung those polished circular swing-tables, radiant asthe rainbow with sparkling coloured glass--there are three of these inall, and so cunningly are they devised that they look like bouquets ofbeautiful flowers pendent from stems of sterling silver. The hanginglamps, ay, and even the stoves and coal-vases in this saloon and in thedrawing-room, were works of art, but space warns me that I must enlargeno more on the fittings of the rooms; in a word, then, comfort andrefinement reigned supreme in the between decks of the _Snowbird_.
The third mate and old Ap, with the second officer of the ship, had amess-place to themselves, and very snug it was. The men messed forward,and here, in the forecastle, a few hammocks were hung at night, but thebulk of the crew slept under, where was plenty of room for bunks, andplenty of warmth, with no lack of ventilation. The cooking-range, orgalley-fire, was abaft the foremast, adjoining Ap's room and that of thesteward and third mate; and at sea, around this same galley-fire, bothmen and second officers would find a snug retreat in many a long, longwinter's night in the stormy regions of the north; for here, when theship was snug, they would gather together and spin many a yarn abouttheir own adventurous lives, and their homes far away in Scotland.
But, so far as our heroes were concerned, the snuggest corner of theship was the drawing-room right aft. Here was the library, and here thepiano, and a stove in the centre of the room, that all could sit aroundand make themselves happy and generally jolly.
Captain McBain's room was next in size to the saloons, as befitted hisposition.
The crew were twenty hands all told. Ap was boatswain and carpenter;our friend Peter was steward. In addition to his duties as captain ormaster of the yacht, McBain had been duly elected supercargo. He hadseen to the victualling department, and the catering for all hands, bothfore and aft. Rory got hold of his list one morning, and from theextracts he read therefrom to his companions, it was evident thatCaptain McBain had done his work right well.
"Why," said Rory, "I wouldn't mind a bit living forward among the crew,for, in addition to preserved meats, and biscuits and butter, andbarley, and bacon and beans, they have pork and potatoes, and pepper,and pickles, and peas, and raisins for pudding, and suet for dumplings,and oatmeal and sugar, and coffee and tea. But oh! boys! aren't _we_going to live like fighting-cocks! We have all the good things they'vegot forward, and lots of cabin luxuries besides--potted milk and pottedmeats, and potted fish of every name, and almonds and arro
wroot, andcurries and capers, and all kinds of fruit, and jellies and jams galore.But what is this? I can understand the dried herbs and celery seed,but Birmingham wares! Old guns and beads!"
It was McBain's turn to laugh, as poor Rory, with a puzzled countenance,looked beseechingly at him for an explanation.
"Indeed," was his reply, "it is those same old guns and those beadswe'll maybe have to eat when our stock of fresh provisions wears down."
"Oh! I see," said Rory, a light suddenly breaking in on him. "You meanwe'll barter them with the natives for food."
"Just so."
"Just so; and here is an item that proves how good an officer you are,Captain McBain. You are like a king, indeed, who is mindful of thewelfare and necessities of even his meanest subjects. The item