by Jules Verne
CHAPTER II.
THE APPRENTICE.
There was no poop upon the "Pilgrim's" deck, so that Mrs. Weldon had noalternative than to acquiesce in the captain's proposal that she shouldoccupy his own modest cabin.
Accordingly, here she was installed with Jack and old Nan; and here shetook all her meals, in company with the captain and Cousin Benedict.
For Cousin Benedict tolerably comfortable sleeping accommodation hadbeen contrived close at hand, while Captain Hull himself retired to thecrew's quarter, occupying the cabin which properly belonged to thechief mate, but as already indicated, the services of a second officerwere quite dispensed with.
All the crew were civil and attentive to the wife of their employer, amaster to whom they were faithfully attached. They were all natives ofthe coast of California, brave and experienced seamen, and united bytastes and habits in a common bond of sympathy. Few as they were innumber, their work was never shirked, not simply from the sense ofduty, but because they were directly interested in the profits of theirundertaking; the success of their labours always told to their ownadvantage. The present expedition was the fourth that they had takentogether; and, as it turned out to be the first in which they hadfailed to meet with success, it may be imagined that they were full ofresentment against the mutinous whalemen who had been the cause of soserious a diminution of their ordinary gains.
Negoro.]
The only one on board who was not an American was a man who had beentemporarily engaged as cook. His name was Negoro; he was a Portugueseby birth, but spoke English with perfect fluency. The previous cook haddeserted the ship at Auckland, and when Negoro, who was out ofemployment, applied for the place, Captain Hull, only too glad to avoiddetention, engaged him at once without inquiry into his antecedents.There was not the slightest fault to be found with the way in which thecook performed his duties, but there was something in his manner, orperhaps, rather in the expression of his countenance, which excited theCaptain's misgivings, and made him regret that he had not taken morepains to investigate the character of one with whom he was now broughtinto such close contact.
Negoro looked about forty years of age. Although he had the appearanceof being slightly built, he was muscular; he was of middle height, andseemed to have a robust constitution; his hair was dark, his complexionsomewhat swarthy. His manner was taciturn, and although, fromoccasional remarks that he dropped, it was evident that he had receivedsome education, he was very reserved on the subjects both of his familyand of his past life. No one knew where he had come from, and headmitted no one to his confidence as to where he was going, except thathe made no secret of his intention to land at Valparaiso. His freedomfrom sea-sickness demonstrated that this could hardly be his firstvoyage, but on the other hand his complete ignorance of seamen'sphraseology made it certain that he had never been accustomed to hispresent occupation. He kept himself aloof as much as possible from therest of the crew, during the day rarely leaving the great cast-ironstove, which was out of proportion to the measurement of the crampedlittle kitchen; and at night, as soon as the fire was extinguished,took the earliest opportunity of retiring to his berth and going tosleep.
It has been already stated that the crew of the "Pilgrim" consisted offive seamen and an apprentice. This apprentice was Dick Sands.
Dick was fifteen years old; he was a foundling, his unknown parentshaving abandoned him at his birth, and he had been brought up in apublic charitable institution. He had been called Dick, after thebenevolent passer-by who had discovered him when he was but an infant afew hours old, and he had received the surname of Sands as a memorialof the spot where he had been exposed, Sandy Hook, a point at the mouthof the Hudson, where it forms an entrance to the harbour of New York.
As Dick was so young it was most likely he would yet grow a littletaller, but it did not seem probable that he would ever exceed middleheight, he looked too stoutly and strongly built to grow much. Hiscomplexion was dark, but his beaming blue eyes attested, with scarcelyroom for doubt, his Anglo-Saxon origin, and his countenance betokenedenergy and intelligence. The profession that he had adopted seemed tohave equipped him betimes for fighting the battle of life.
Misquoted often as Virgil's are the words
"Audaces fortuna juvat!"
but the true reading is
"Audentes fortuna juvat!"
and, slight as the difference may seem, it is very significant. It isupon the confident rather than the rash, the daring rather than thebold, that Fortune sheds her smiles; the bold man often acts withoutthinking, whilst the daring always thinks before he acts.
And Dick Sands was truly courageous; he was one of the daring. Atfifteen years old, an age at which few boys have laid aside thefrivolities of childhood, he had acquired the stability of a man, andthe most casual observer could scarcely fail to be attracted by hisbright, yet thoughtful countenance. At an early period of his life hehad realized all the difficulties of his position, and had made aresolution, from which nothing tempted him to flinch, that he wouldcarve out for himself an honourable and independent career. Lithe andagile in his movements, he was an adept in every kind of athleticexercise; and so marvellous was his success in everything he undertook,that he might almost be supposed to be one of those gifted mortals whohave two right hands and two left feet.
Until he was four years old the little orphan had found a home in oneof those institutions in America where forsaken children are sure of anasylum, and he was subsequently sent to an industrial school supportedby charitable aid, where he learnt reading, writing, and arithmetic.From the days of infancy he had never deviated from the expression ofhis wish to be a sailor, and accordingly, as soon as he was eight, hewas placed as cabin-boy on board one of the ships that navigate theSouthern Seas. The officers all took a peculiar interest in him, and hereceived, in consequence, a thoroughly good grounding in the duties anddiscipline of a seaman's life. There was no room to doubt that he mustultimately rise to eminence in his profession, for when a child fromthe very first has been trained in the knowledge that he must gain hisbread by the sweat of his brow, it is comparatively rare that he lacksthe will to do so.
Whilst he was still acting as cabin-boy on one of thosetrading-vessels, Dick attracted the notice of Captain Hull, who took afancy to the lad and introduced him to his employer. Mr. Weldon at oncetook a lively interest in Dick's welfare, and had his educationcontinued in San Francisco, taking care that he was instructed in thedoctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, to which his own familybelonged.
Throughout his studies Dick Sands' favourite subjects were always thosewhich had a reference to his future profession; he mastered the detailsof the geography of the world; he applied himself diligently to suchbranches of mathematics as were necessary for the science ofnavigation; whilst for recreation in his hours of leisure, he wouldgreedily devour every book of adventure in travel that came in his way.Nor did he omit duly to combine the practical with the theoretical; andwhen he was bound apprentice on board the "Pilgrim," a vessel not onlybelonging to his benefactor, but under the command of his kind friendCaptain Hull, he congratulated himself most heartily, and felt that theexperience he should gain in the southern whale-fisheries could hardlyfail to be of service to him in after-life. A first-rate sailor oughtto be a first-rate fisherman too.
It was a matter of the greatest pleasure to Dick Sands when he heard tohis surprise that Mrs. Weldon was about to become a passenger on boardthe "Pilgrim." His devotion to the family of his benefactor was largeand genuine. For several years Mrs. Weldon had acted towards him littleshort of a mother's part, and for Jack, although he never forgot thedifference in their position, he entertained well-nigh a brother'saffection. His friends had the satisfaction of being assured that theyhad sown the seeds of kindness on a generous soil, for there was noroom to doubt that the heart of the orphan boy was overflowing withsincere gratitude. Should the occasion arise, ought he not, he asked,to be ready to sacrifice everything in behalf of those to whom he wasindeb
ted not only for his start in life, but for the knowledge of allthat was right and holy?
Confiding in the good principles of her protege, Mrs. Weldon had nohesitation in entrusting her little son to his especial charge. Duringthe frequent periods of leisure, when the sea was fair, and the sailsrequired no shifting, the apprentice was never weary of amusing Jack bymaking him familiar with the practice of a sailor's craft; he made himscramble up the shrouds, perch upon the yards, and slip down theback-stays; and the mother had no alarm; her assurance of Dick Sands'ability and watchfulness to protect her boy was so complete that shecould only rejoice in an occupation for him that seemed more thananything to restore the colour he had lost in his recent illness.
Time passed on without incident; and had it not been for the constantprevalence of an adverse wind, neither passengers nor crew could havefound the least cause of complaint. The pertinacity, however, withwhich the wind kept to the east could not do otherwise than makeCaptain Hull somewhat concerned; it absolutely prevented him fromgetting his ship into her proper course, and he could not altogethersuppress his misgiving that the calms near the Tropic of Capricorn, andthe equatorial current driving him on westwards, would entail a delaythat might be serious.
Dick and little Jack.]
It was principally on Mrs. Weldon's account that the Captain began tofeel uneasiness, and he made up his mind that if he could hail a vesselproceeding to America he should advise his passengers to embark on her;unfortunately, however, he felt that they were still in a latitude fartoo much to the south to make it likely that they should sight asteamer going to Panama; and at that date, communication betweenAustralia and the New World was much less frequent than it has sincebecome.
Still, nothing occurred to interrupt the general monotony of the voyageuntil the 2nd of February, the date at which our narrative commences.
It was about nine o'clock in the morning of that day that Dick andlittle Jack had perched themselves together on the top-mast-yards. Theweather was very clear, and they could see the horizon right roundexcept the section behind them, hidden by the brigantine-sail on themain-mast. Below them, the bowsprit seemed to lie along the water withits stay-sails attached like three unequal wings; from the lads' feetto the deck was the smooth surface of the fore-mast; and above theirheads nothing but the small top-sail and the top-mast. The schooner wasrunning on the larboard tack as close to the wind as possible.
Dick Sand was pointing out to Jack how well the ship was ballasted, andwas trying to explain how it was impossible for her to capsize, howevermuch she heeled to starboard, when suddenly the little fellow criedout,--
"I can see something in the water!"
"Where? what?" exclaimed Dick, clambering to his feet upon the yard.
"There!" said the child, directing attention to the portion of thesea-surface that was visible between the stay-sails.
Dick fixed his gaze intently for a moment, and then shouted outlustily,--
"Look out in front, to starboard! There is something afloat. Towindward, look out!"
