CHAPTER VI.--"BACK WATER ALL! FOR LIFE, BOYS, FOR LIFE!"
It was summer--strange, weird, and silent summer in the Antarctic Ocean.
November was wearing to a close. The days were long and sunny; so long,indeed, that the sun did not trouble himself to go down at all. Atmidnight he just made a feint of doing so, and lowered himself towardsthe horizon, but thought better of it, and was speedily mounting higherand higher again every minute.
A great, cold-looking sun it was, however, a bright and almost raylessdisc of whitest light, that you could look at and even count the spotsthereon.
The good barque _Flora M'Vayne_ was still ploughing her way through thedark waters of that southern ocean, and the great glacial barrier wasstill far away. They could have told this even by the paucity of birdlife around them. A long-winged frigate-bird went swiftly across thehawse now and then, and soared away and away towards the few fleecyclouds that hovered high in air like puffs of gunpowder smoke.
That mighty eagle of the sea--the albatross--was also a constantvisitor. What a wondrous flight is his! At one moment beating up towindward, tack and half-tack, yet with a speed almost as great as thatof a swallow, till one can scarcely see him, so far and far away is he;then, wheeling next moment, down he flashes on the breeze, but morequickly than any ordinary breeze e'er blew. Not straight before thewind, however, but with a kind of sidelong rush which brings into fullview the vast outspread of his wondrous wings.
They were still in the "roaring forties", as that part of the ocean'twixt the latitude of the Cape and the fifties is called. But what awide expanse of ocean is all around them! I have stood spell-bound onthe fore or main-top, not admiring so much as adoring this mighty workof a mightier Creator: a turmoil of water, water, water in everydirection one can look. And it is not so much the height of the wavesone wonders at--though that is indeed vast--but their tremendousbreadth, the sweep, as it were, between one curling comber and another.High and of fearful force are the seas in, for example, the Bay ofBiscay during a gale, but they are mere channel chops to these. Andwide though the expanse of these latter, they race each other round theworld with an earnestness, and even fury, that causes one to standaghast.
I wish I had space to describe some of the sunsets our heroes beheldshortly after leaving the last land. No wonder that Duncan more thanonce grasped Frank by the arm, and pointed northward and west ateventide.
"Look! Oh, look!"
It was all he could say. Yet the salt tears almost blinded him as hespoke.
"Oh, to be an artist!" exclaimed Frank once.
"An artist!" cried Duncan, almost scornfully. "What artist would dare topaint the golden gray and crimson splendour that unites both sea and skyinto one living gorgeous whole? Oh, Frank, even Turner himself, were hehere, would throw down his brush, and confess that he was a merecaricaturist."
But in a few weeks' time the sunsets were nil, and all, all was day.
Nor did it blow so high now.
Sometimes, indeed, the sea was as calm as a mill-pond, except whererippled in patches by huge shoals of the fry of certain kinds of fishthat inhabit these seas.
And these were invariably followed by denizens of the deep that preyedupon them--dancing, leaping, cooing dolphins, for example.
Some of these latter were harpooned, and their dark red flesh made anexcellent change of diet from the somewhat salt provisions, eggs, orpenguin flesh.
Once or twice, while the weather was calm and the surface of the seasmooth and glassy, they came upon patches of yellow--banks they were, infact, over which they were drifting.
Men were now kept constantly in the chains, and sometimes the danger wasso great that the anchors were let go to wait for even the lightestbreeze.
This might have delayed the voyage somewhat, but nevertheless it was nottime wholly misspent, for where the bottom is near to the surface fishare always found in abundance. So boats would be lowered, and real goodhand-line sport enjoyed.
In this old Pen participated. But the first day he started fishing heswam so fast and so far away, that those in the boat imagined they wouldnever see him more.
Then little Johnnie began to weep.
"Oh, poll deah Pen! Oh, my ole mudder Sue," he cried. "He done goneaway foh ebbermoh."
But Johnnie's "weeps" were quite a useless expenditure of lachrymalfluid. This was evident enough when Pen came racing back again with agreat silvery fish held proudly aloft. He delivered this, and went backfor another. And this again and again, till a breath of wind springingup, it was deemed advisable to return to the _Flora_, who was "titting"at her anchor as if eager to be on the wing again.
That Pen loved the darkie was evident enough, for one day, when bent onto his line and hauling away with all his might, a huge bonito pulledthe little lad right overboard, the strange bird went grunting andsquawking round him in terrible distress.
Johnnie's position just then was not an enviable one, for although hecould swim like a herring, there was many a monster shark hovering nearthat would have been pleased indeed to make a meal of the boy.
These sharks were sometimes caught, and although their flesh had nogreat flavour, parts of it served sometimes to eke out breakfast orsupper.
There are dangers innumerable in those Antarctic seas, and one of themost terrible is that of striking on a sand-bank or running foul of asunken rock. These not being on the chart, the navigator has to sailalong literally with his life in his hand, trusting all to blind chance.A bank does give some evidence before the ship gets on if there is anoutlook in the foretop, and the cry of, "Below there! shoal waterahead!" is all too common. Next comes the shout of, "Ready about!Stand by tacks and sheets!"
But the rock hides its awful head and gives no sign. The ship strikes,then backward reels, and mayhap sinks before there is time to provision,water, arm, man, and lower the boats.
Ice at last.
But the Antarctic sea was wonderfully open this season, and the iceloose.
It lay in streams of small pieces at first, athwart the world, as Jacktermed it; athwart the ship's course, at all events, so these they hadto sail through. The good _Flora_ was strong enough to negotiate them,but the battering and thumping along the vessel's sides, as heard below,was tremendous.
These ice streams became more and more numerous, and the pieces, or"berglets", got bigger and bigger, and, of course, more fraught withdanger to the ship's vitality.
It grew appreciably colder too, but so slowly had they come into theseregions of perpetual snow, that the change in temperature had nodetrimental effect upon the health of either the officers or men.
It certainly had none on old Pen. In fact, the colder it got the morehe seemed to like it. And now when waltzing with Johnnie, he used tosing in his own droll and dismal way.
Viking also believed in the cold, and the races and gambols he had upand down the deck, when he could induce anyone to throw a belaying-pinfor him were wild in the extreme.
Moreover, he had a football, which Duncan had presented him with, and hegot no end of fun out of this. He threw it in front of him, he hurledit along in front of him, and swung it about, and one day, when hefairly tossed it overboard, he made no bother about the matter, butrushing astern, jumped right overboard after it, quite regardless of thefact that the ship was going on at the rate of eight knots an hour.
As quickly as possible she was hove to and a whaler lowered.
Vike was found quite a quarter of a mile astern--but he had stuck to hisball.
He dearly loved it, and, strangely enough, he put it to bed every nightas children do their dolls, covering it carefully up with a corner ofthe rug on which he slept.
----
Icebergs at last. A good thing it was for the _Flora_, that there wasbut little wind, for to strike against one of these huge bergs--biggermany of them were than St. Paul's Cathedral--would have meant certaindestruction.
Yet although the wind was often b
ut light, a current seemed to runrapidly enough, and the huge unbroken waves towered high above them, andmore than once they narrowly escaped disaster from a huge berg beinghurled down upon the vessel as if by Titanic force, as she wallowed inthe trough of the sea.
Even sailing past to leeward of such ice as this took the wind for atime clean out of the sails.
Strangely enough, they reached the Antarctic Circle on Christmas day.
This was a sort of double event. Either would have been celebrated, butnow both events must be rolled into one.
One would hardly imagine that King Christmas would venture into theselonely regions, but the old fellow is good-hearted, and where'er onearth a Briton goes there goes Christmas also.
Well, with the exception of Johnnie Shingles and the monkey--who, by theway, had been furnished with a brand-new scarlet flannel jacket to keephim cosy--there was not a soul on board who had not before leaving homebeen presented with a bunch of gay ribbons, by sweetheart or wife, tohelp to deck a great garland that was made, and hoisted high aloft andabaft on this auspicious morning.
Of course there were no turkeys!
Alas! there were no geese.
As for cooking an albatross--well, that has been tried before, and amore unsatisfactory dish I have never tasted. Fishy, oily, and as fordownright toughness the wife of Beith with her iron teeth could make buta poor show in front of it.
But some splendid corn-beef took the place of more civilized dishes bothfore and aft.
Then there was the pudding. Ah! that indeed!
And a splendid success this, or these, were. The cook went in that dayfor beating all previous records. And it was universally admitted thathe did.
The _Flora M'Vayne_ was an almost temperate ship, that is, the men hadto content themselves with one glass of rum each _per diem_, man-o'-warfashion. But on this bright Christmas day there was but little limit orstint. Only, to everyone's credit be it said, there was no excess.
The evening, up till two bells (9 o'clock), was spent in games, inyarning, in dancing, and fun.
Both Vike and old Pen had dined right heartily, and were in rare form.
One of the chief dances to-night was the Scots strathspey and reel, andDuncan had got his bagpipes in order for the occasion, and as he playedthe fun grew fast and furious.
So excited did both Vike and Pen become at last that they must too chimein, the dog with a high falsetto howl, the bird with double grunt andsquawk, so that Duncan's melody was somewhat interfered with.
This, however, did not discourage the Scotch portion of the crew. Theyonly cracked their thumbs, danced the nimbler, and hooched the wilder,till with the frantic merriment the very sails did shiver.
It was indeed a joyous night. Vike and Pen, although they had a trulyexcellent feed, did not give way to excess, but the monkey being onlyone remove from a human being, ate so much pudding and so many nuts andcockroaches, that he suffered next morning from a violent headache. Hewas seen squatting on the capstan, clasping his brow with his left hand,and looking the very picture of Simian misery.
Frank took pity on him.
"I know what will cure you," he said. "I know what a Christmas headacheis; I've been there myself."
So he bound up the poor beastie's head with a handkerchief wrung out ofice-cold water, and the monkey felt really better, and was grateful inconsequence.
For some natural reason or another, they now came into a sea of openwater, and much to the delight and excitement of all hands, sighted aschool of Right whales.
The main-yard was instantly hauled aback, and all preparations speedilymade to attack one at least of this great shoal.
I do not suppose that these leviathans of southern polar seas had everhad their gambols so rudely broken in upon before.
Three boats were sent against them, each with one experienced harpooner.The captain commanded one, Morgan another, and the third whaler wasgiven in charge of brave young Duncan. To tell the truth, he had reallyno experience of such "fishing", but the spectioneer that sat beside himhad.
Surely it was a pity to disturb the enjoyment of those great ungainlymonsters on so glorious a day. Thus thought Conal at all events, forwithout doubt the whales had assembled for a real frolic.
It was a sort of whales' ball.
Sometimes nothing was seen but the white spray or foam they raised, atother times their enormous bodies were seen shining silvery in thesummer sun, for in their glee they actively leapt over each other'sbacks.
But the noise they made is indescribable, as they lashed the water withflippers and tails.
In the captain's boat only was the harpoon gun, and he alone would fireit. When a much younger man he had been whaling in the far-off Arctic,and knew a Right whale from a finner or sperm.
Yet his was not the newest-fashioned mode of whaling. He used noexplosive shells or bullets, which he looked upon as cruel in theextreme. I should be sorry indeed to argue the point either pro or con,for there is cruelty on both sides, but probably less with the shell,which may cause almost instantaneous death.
Was Captain Talbot going to attack that school of whales during theirextraordinary gambols? He knew better. Were a whales' ball to takeplace in the midst of even a fleet of men-o'-war I should be sorry forsome of the ships.
But see yonder, ploughing slowly along towards the herd, comes a hugeand solitary leviathan.
Talbot hastily signals to the mate and to Duncan. The latter takes thesteering oar, and, bidding him be cautious, the spectioneer, his greatwhale lance in his hand, goes cautiously forward to the bows, and theboat is kept on a line parallel to the great beast's course.
Nearer and nearer creeps the captain's boat. The excitement is intense.Will the whale dive before he gets close enough, the men are wondering?
Nearer and still more near.
Everyone holds his breath.
"Lie on your oars, men! Still and quiet!"
The boat drifts a little way further, but the gun is trained.
Bang!
The echoes reverberate from every berg, or far or near. The line allneatly coiled in the bows is whirling out, till the gunwale begins tofire. But it as speedily stops.
Grand shot! The monster is struck, and for a few seconds seems stunned,and lies still on the top of the water.
The school has dived and disappeared, to come up somewhere again milesand miles away.
And now the wounded whale recovers from the shot, and headlong dives,the line rushing out once again as before. Under way once again is theboat, but the leviathan now reappears as suddenly as he had sunk. Someinstinct--whether of scent or hearing I cannot tell--causes him to takethe same course as his fellows.
Mercy on us, how he rips and tears through the black-green water! Butever and anon he dives, and it is evident his exertions weary him alittle.
And now the line is all run out, and the boat is taken in charge. Thegunwale is cooled with hastily-drawn buckets of water, and forward shedashes, so quickly too that a wall of water stands up on each side ofthe bows.
The poor monster is in torment. The chief danger to the boat itselfwould lie in the beast swerving aside and diving under a berg, whichwould dash the brave whaler to pieces, and kill or drown every man onboard. But he holds his course till, weary at last, he dives once more,and there remains for fully twenty minutes.
When he again appears the water around is red with his blood, but hemoves along very slowly now, and the other boats with their lancemen getabreast and bear up to head him.
Duncan's is the first to get near enough, and now comes the tug of war.The whale is sick and weak.
The harpooner holds up a warning hand.
"Be all ready to back astern, boys!"
"Way enough!"
The lance is driven in full many and many a foot, and with one decisivetwist a great and vital artery is severed.
"Back water all! For life, boys, for life!"
For life? Yes, but the men are as cool as if ro
wing in a regatta on theThames.
"All speed astern!"
None too soon.
The blood spouts high as if from a fire-hose, but in awful jets, withevery throb of the giant's heart. There is life in him yet, and whilethe red-drenched seamen pull well out of the way, he lashes the ocean'ssurface with his tremendous tail, one blow from which would stave in atorpedo-boat.
The sound would be heard miles and miles away, were there anyone tolisten to it in these lonesome seas, and--so dies the leviathan.
The ship gets alongside and bends on her hooks in good time, and whilethe body is still hot and steaming, blubber and skin are hoisted up andup towards the yard-arms, till with its weight the vessel lists andlists, and it seems as if she would be on her beam-ends.
Long before the crew is done taking on board all that is valuable, thesharks have assembled, and are fighting and splashing as they gorge ontheir awful feast.
And when the decks are all clean once more, and the sails again filled,supper is had fore and aft, and then, but not till then, does SkipperTalbot order the steward to splice the main-brace.