CHAPTER VI.
THE MISSION.
Cleanor's interview with Hasdrubal was followed by a long conversationwith one of his staff, Gisco by name, in which were discussed the bestand safest means of crossing from Africa to Greece. The Greek might havehad at his command the best and fleetest war-galley in the docks ofCarthage, but the idea did not at all commend itself to him. The harbourwas not actually blockaded--Roman seamanship was hardly equal tomaintaining a blockade, which often means the imminent peril of lyingoff a lee-shore--but it was pretty closely watched; the sea in theneighbourhood was patrolled by Roman ships, and the chances were atleast equal that a Carthaginian galley would be challenged and broughtto bay before it could reach Europe, and more than likely that if sochallenged it would be captured. Some kind of disguise seemed to be farmore promising of safety, and the more obscure the disguise the betterthe promise.
A little fleet of vessels was about to sail from one of the coastvillages for the autumn tunny-fishing, and Cleanor resolved to embark onone of them. It had been one of his boyish delights to spend a few daysfrom time to time at sea, and he had a long-standing acquaintance, whichmight almost have been called a friendship, with the veteran master ofone of these craft. The tunny-fishing had always been too long an affairfor the lad, who had his duties at home to attend to. The boats wereabout a month or more from home if the shoals had to be followed far,for the tunny is a fish that lives mostly in deep water. But there was astanding engagement that some day or other, when he happened to haveleisure sufficient, the thing was to be done. Syphax--this was the oldfisherman's name--knew nothing about his visitor except that he was amerry, companionable lad who had a sufficient command of gold pieces.To politics he paid no attention whatever. If there was war, it made nodifference to him except, possibly, to increase the market for histunnies, and raise the price. Romans and Carthaginians agreed in likinghis wares; if they paid honestly for them, it did not matter to thefisherman what they did in other matters.
When, therefore, two or three days after his visit to Hasdrubal's camp,the Greek knocked at the door of Syphax's little house by the sea, hereceived a hearty welcome, and was asked no inconvenient questions.
"You're just in time, young sir," cried the old man, "if you are comefor the tunnies. We start at sunset, and, if we have luck, we shall beamong them by dawn to-morrow. Just now the shoals are pretty near, andwe may catch a boat-load before the new moon--it is just full to-day.But you are not in a hurry, I hope, if we should have to go furtherafield."
"All right, Syphax!" replied Cleanor. "I shall be able to see it throughthis time."
The old man, who had, indeed, the experience of sixty years to drawfrom, was quite right in his prediction that they would find themselvesamong the tunnies at dawn. They had been able to get over a considerabledistance during the night. At first their progress had been slow, for itwas a dead calm, and the sweeps had to be used. About midnight, whenthey were well out of the shelter of the land, a light breeze from thesouth sprang up. The broad lateen sail was gladly hoisted, and thelittle craft sped gaily along, making, with the wind due aft, some sixor seven miles an hour. Cleanor, who had fallen asleep shortly aftermidnight, not a little fatigued by the share which he had insisted ontaking in the rowing, was awakened, after what seemed to him fiveminutes of slumber, by the captain.
"See," cried the old man, "there they are yonder. Thanks to Dagon, wehave got among them quite as soon as I hoped."
And sure enough, about three hundred yards off, just in a line with thesun, which was beginning to lift a crimson disk out of the sea, thewater seemed positively alive with fish, little and big. The tunnies hadgot among a shoal of sardines, and were busy with the chase. Every nowand then some score of small fry would throw themselves wildly out ofthe water to escape their pursuer; behind them the water swirled withthe rush of some monster fish, whose great black fin might be discerned,by a keen eye, just showing above the surface. Elsewhere, one of thetunnies would leap bodily into the air, his silvery side gleaming in thealmost level rays of the rising sun. The sail had already been lowered,and the sweeps, after some dozen strokes to give a little way to thevessel in the right direction, had been shipped again. In another minutethe little craft had quietly glided into the middle of the shoal.
Cleanor, in spite of all the grave preoccupation of his mind, was stillyoung enough to enjoy the brisk scene which followed. There were twoways of securing the fish: the harpoon was one; the hand-line was theother, the hook being baited with a small fish or with a bit ofbrilliant red cloth. Syphax and two of his sailors used the former.Cleanor and the third sailor, a young man of about the same age, asbeing not sufficiently expert with the harpoon, were furnished withhand-lines.
The fun was fast and furious. At his very first shot the captain drovehis harpoon into the side of a huge tunny. So strong was the creaturethat it positively towed the boat after it for a few minutes. This gaveto Cleanor's baited hook exactly the motion that was wanted. It was soonseized with a force which jerked the line out of his hand, and wouldinfallibly have carried it away altogether, had it not been wound roundhis leg, more, it must be confessed, by accident than by design.
A sharp struggle followed. For some time the fisherman seemed to get nonearer to securing his fish. It would suffer itself to be drawn up a fewyards, and would then by a fierce rush recover and even increase itsdistance. But the line was of a thickness and strength which allowed anystrain to be put upon it, and the hook was firmly fastened into theleathery substance of the fish's mouth. The creature's only chance ofescape was that the tremendous jerks it gave might flatten the barb ofthe hook. This did not happen, for Syphax took good care that all histackle should be of the very best quality, and, after a conflict of halfan hour, Cleanor had the satisfaction of seeing his prey turn helplessand exhausted on to its side. He drew it up close to the vessel, gladenough to give a little rest to his fingers, which were actuallybleeding with the friction of the line. A sailor put his fingers intothe animal's gills, and lifted it by a great effort over the gunwale. Itweighed a little more than a hundred pounds.
The sport continued till noon, only interrupted by a few short intervalswhen the shoal moved away and had to be followed. By noon so many fishhad been secured that it became necessary to take measures forpreserving them. They were split open and cleaned. The choicest portionswere immersed in casks which held a liquid used for pickling; otherparts were salted lightly or thoroughly, according as they were intendedfor speedy consumption or otherwise.
"You have brought us good luck," said Syphax to his guest, as theyshared the last meal after a day's hard work. "In all my experience--andit goes back sixty years at least--I don't remember getting such sportso soon. Another day or two of this and we shall have a full cargo, andmay go home again."
He had hardly spoken when his eye was caught by a strange appearance inthe water,--strange, that is, to Cleanor, but only too familiar andintelligible to the old man.
"Ah!" he cried, "I thought that it was too good to last. Do you see thateddy yonder? And look, there is the brute's back-fin."
"What is it?" asked Cleanor.
"A shark, of course," replied the old man. "They never bode any good toanyone. Dagon only knows where we shall find the tunnies again. Theywill be leagues away from here by sunrise to-morrow, and there is notelling what way they will go. However, we have done pretty well, evenif we don't see them again this moon. To-night we will lie-to; it willbe time enough in the morning to decide what is to be done."
Cleanor had begun to fear that his experiment might turn out to be afailure. Nothing, he knew, would induce the old man to sail anotherleague away from home when once his cargo had been completed.Accordingly he had hailed the shark's appearance with delight as soonas he comprehended what it meant, and now he turned to sleep with alighter heart.
Again did the old fisherman show himself a true prophet. The nextmorning, and for many mornings afterwards, not a tunny was to be seen.The weather, however, cont
inued fine, and the little craft made its wayin a leisurely fashion towards the north-east, a sharp look-out beingkept by day, and, as far as was possible, by night, for the object ofpursuit.
Two days had passed in this way when masses of floating sea-weed andflocks of gulls began to warn the captain that he was drawing near theland.
"We have been on the wrong tack," he said to Cleanor, "and must put herhead about. We are more likely to find the fish in deep water thanhere."
"Where are we, then?" asked the Greek.
"Almost within sight of Lilybaeum, as far as I can guess."
Cleanor felt that it was time to act. "Will you do me a favour?" hesaid.
"Certainly," replied the old man, "if I possibly can."
"Well, then, put me ashore."
"That is easy enough, if I am not wrong in my guess as to ourwhereabouts. How long do you want to stay? I should not like to losethis fine weather. As for landing, I should have had to do that in anycase, for we are getting short of water."
"I don't want you to wait for me. Only land me and leave me."
"What! Tired of the business, I suppose. Well, we have been a long timedoing nothing, but we must come across the tunnies soon."
Cleanor, who was anxious above all things not to be thought to have anyserious object in view, allowed that the time did seem a little long. Hehad friends and kinsfolk, too, in Sicily, he said, and it would be apity to lose the opportunity of paying them a visit. It was arranged,accordingly, that he should be landed, and that the crew shouldreplenish their water-casks at the same time. He parted with his friendson the best of terms. Two gold pieces to the captain and one to each ofthe crew sent them away in great glee, singing his praises as the mostopen-handed young sportsman that they had ever had to do with.
It is needless to relate in detail our hero's journey through Sicily. Hebought a stout young horse, one of the famous breed of Sicilian cobs, atAgrigentum, near which place he had been landed, and reached Syracusewithout further adventure. At Syracuse he found a merchant vessel aboutto start for Corinth, secured a berth in her, and reached that cityafter a rapid and prosperous voyage.