And truly, since death is the last enemy of all, valiant souls willtaunt him while they may. Yet rather, should the wise regard him asthe inflexible friend, who, even against our own wills, from life'sevils triumphantly relieves us.
And there is but little difference in the manner of dying. To die, isall. And death has been gallantly encountered by those who neverbeheld blood that was red, only its light azure seen through theveins. And to yield the ghost proudly, and march out of your fortresswith all the honors of war, is not a thing of sinew and bone. Thoughin prison, Geoffry Hudson, the dwarf, died more bravely than Goliah,the giant; and the last end of a butterfly shames us all. Some womenhave lived nobler lives, and died nobler deaths, than men. Threatenedwith the stake, mitred Cranmer recanted; but through her fortitude,the lorn widow of Edessa stayed the tide of Valens' persecutions.'Tis no great valor to perish sword in hand, and bravado on lip;cased all in panoply complete. For even the alligator dies in hismail, and the swordfish never surrenders. To expire, mild-eyed, inone's bed, transcends the death of Epaminondas.
CHAPTER XThey Arrange Their Canopies And Lounges, And Try To Make ThingsComfortable
Our little craft was soon in good order. From the spare riggingbrought along, we made shrouds to the mast, and converted the boat-hook into a handy boom for the jib. Going large before the wind, weset this sail wing-and-wing with the main-sail. The latter, inaccordance with the customary rig of whale-boats, was worked with asprit and sheet. It could be furled or set in an instant. The bags ofbread we stowed away in the covered space about the loggerhead, auseless appurtenance now, and therefore removed. At night, Jarl usedit for a pillow; saying, that when the boat rolled it gave easy playto his head. The precious breaker we lashed firmly amidships; therebymuch improving our sailing.
Now, previous to leaving the ship, we had seen to it well, that ourcraft was supplied with all those equipments, with which, by theregulations of the fishery, a whale-boat is constantly provided:night and day, afloat or suspended. Hanging along our gunwalesinside, were six harpoons, three lances, and a blubber-spade; allkeen as razors, and sheathed with leather. Besides these, we hadthree waifs, a couple of two-gallon water-kegs, several bailers, theboat-hatchet for cutting the whale-line, two auxiliary knives for thelike purpose, and several minor articles, also employed in huntingthe leviathan. The line and line-tub, however, were on ship-board.
And here it may be mentioned, that to prevent the strain uponthe boat when suspended to the ship's side, the heavy whale-line,over two hundred fathoms in length, and something more than an inchin diameter, when not in use is kept on ship-board, coiled away likean endless snake in its tub. But this tub is always in readiness tobe launched into the boat. Now, having no use for the line belongingto our craft, we had purposely left it behind.
But well had we marked that by far the most important item of awhale-boat's furniture was snugly secured in its place. This was thewater-tight keg, at both ends firmly headed, containing a smallcompass, tinder-box and flint, candles, and a score or two ofbiscuit. This keg is an invariable precaution against what sofrequently occurs in pursuing the sperm whale--prolonged absence fromthe ship, losing sight of her, or never seeing her more, till yearsafter you reach home again. In this same keg of ours seemed cooperedup life and death, at least so seemed it to honest Jarl. No soonerhad we got clear from the Arcturion, than dropping his oar for aninstant, he clutched at it in the dark.
And when day at last came, we knocked out the head of the keg withthe little hammer and chisel, always attached to it for that purpose,and removed the compass, that glistened to us like a human eye. Thenfilling up the vacancy with biscuit, we again made all tight, drivingdown the hoops till they would budge no more.
At first we were puzzled to fix our compass. But at last the Skyemanout knife, and cutting a round hole in the after-most thwart, or seatof the boat, there inserted the little brass case containing theneedle.
Over the stern of the boat, with some old canvas which my Viking'sforethought had provided, we spread a rude sort of awning, or rathercounterpane. This, however, proved but little or no protection fromthe glare of the sun; for the management of the main-sail forbade anyconsiderable elevation of the shelter. And when the breeze was fresh,we were fain to strike it altogether; for the wind being fromaft, and getting underneath the canvas, almost lifted the lightboat's stem into the air, vexing the counterpane as if it were apetticoat turning a gusty corner. But when a mere breath rippled thesea, and the sun was fiery hot, it was most pleasant to lounge inthis shady asylum. It was like being transferred from the roast tocool in the cupboard. And Jarl, much the toughest fowl of the two,out of an abundant kindness for his comrade, during the dayvoluntarily remained exposed at the helm, almost two hours to my one.No lady-like scruples had he, the old Viking, about marring hiscomplexion, which already was more than bronzed. Over the ordinarytanning of the sailor, he seemed masked by a visor of japanning,dotted all over with freckles, so intensely yellow, and symmetricallycircular, that they seemed scorched there by a burning glass.
In the tragico-comico moods which at times overtook me, I used tolook upon the brown Skyeman with humorous complacency. If we fall inwith cannibals, thought I, then, ready-roasted Norseman that thouart, shall I survive to mourn thee; at least, during the period Irevolve upon the spit.
But of such a fate, it needs hardly be said, we had no apprehension.
CHAPTER XIJarl Afflicted With The Lockjaw
If ever again I launch whale-boat from sheer-plank of ship at sea, Ishall take good heed, that my comrade be a sprightly fellow, with arattle-box head. Be he never so silly, his very silliness, so long ashe be lively at it, shall be its own excuse.
Upon occasion, who likes not a lively loon, one of your giggling,gamesome oafs, whose mouth is a grin? Are not such, well-ordereddispensations of Providence? filling up vacuums, in intervals ofsocial stagnation relieving the tedium of existing? besides keepingup, here and there, in very many quarters indeed, sundry people'sgood opinion of themselves? What, if at times their speech is insipidas water after wine? What, if to ungenial and irascible souls, theirvery "mug" is an exasperation to behold, their clack an inducement tosuicide? Let us not be hard upon them for this; but let them live onfor the good they may do.
But Jarl, dear, dumb Jarl, thou wert none of these. Thou didst carrya phiz like an excommunicated deacon's. And no matter what happened,it was ever the same. Quietly, in thyself, thou didst revolve uponthine own sober axis, like a wheel in a machine which forever goesround, whether you look at it or no. Ay, Jarl! wast thou not foreverintent upon minding that which so many neglect--thine own especialbusiness? Wast thou not forever at it, too, with no likelihood ofever winding up thy moody affairs, and striking a balance sheet?
But at times how wearisome to me these everlasting reveries inmy one solitary companion. I longed for something enlivening; a burstof words; human vivacity of one kind or other. After in vain essayingto get something of this sort out of Jarl, I tried it all by myself;playing upon my body as upon an instrument; singing, halloing, andmaking empty gestures, till my Viking stared hard; and I myselfpaused to consider whether I had run crazy or no.
But how account for the Skyeman's gravity? Surely, it was based uponno philosophic taciturnity; he was nothing of an idealist; an aerialarchitect; a constructor of flying buttresses. It was inconceivable,that his reveries were Manfred-like and exalted, reminiscent ofunutterable deeds, too mysterious even to be indicated by theremotest of hints. Suppositions all out of the question.
His ruminations were a riddle. I asked him anxiously, whether, in anypart of the world, Savannah, Surat, or Archangel, he had ever a wifeto think of; or children, that he carried so lengthy a phiz. Nowhereneither. Therefore, as by his own confession he had nothing to thinkof but himself, and there was little but honesty in him (havingwhich, by the way, he may be thought full to the brim), what could Ifall back upon but my original theory: namely, that in repose, hisintellects stepped out, and left his body to its
elf.
CHAPTER XIIMore About Being In An Open Boat
On the third morning, at break of day, I sat at the steering oar, anhour or two previous having relieved Jarl, now fast asleep. Somehow,and suddenly, a sense of peril so intense, came over me, that itcould hardly have been aggravated by the completest solitude.
On a ship's deck, the mere feeling of elevation above the water, andthe reach of prospect you command, impart a degree of confidencewhich disposes you to exult in your fancied security. But in an openboat, brought down to the very plane of the sea, this feeling almostwholly deserts you. Unless the waves, in their gambols, toss you andyour chip upon one of their lordly crests, your sphere of vision islittle larger than it would be at the bottom of a well. At best, yourmost extended view in any one direction, at least, is in a high,slow-rolling sea; when you descend into the dark, misty spaces,between long and uniform swells. Then, for the moment, it is likelooking up and down in a twilight glade, interminable; where twodawns, one on each hand, seem struggling through the semi-transparenttops of the fluid mountains.
But, lingering not long in those silent vales, from watery cliff tocliff, a sea-chamois, sprang our solitary craft,--a goat among the Alps!
How undulated the horizon; like a vast serpent with ten thousandfolds coiled all round the globe; yet so nigh, apparently, that itseemed as if one's hand might touch it.
What loneliness; when the sun rose, and spurred up the heavens, wehailed him as a wayfarer in Sahara the sight of a distant horseman.Save ourselves, the sun and the Chamois seemed all that was left oflife in the universe. We yearned toward its jocund disk, as instrange lands the traveler joyfully greets a face from home, whichthere had passed unheeded. And was not the sun a fellow-voyager? werewe not both wending westward? But how soon he daily overtook andpassed us; hurrying to his journey's end.
When a week had gone by, sailing steadily on, by day and by night, andnothing in sight but this self-same sea, what wonder if disquietingthoughts at last entered our hearts? If unknowingly we should passthe spot where, according to our reckoning, our islands lay, upon whatshoreless sea would we launch? At times, these forebodings bewilderedmy idea of the positions of the groups beyond. All became vague andconfused; so that westward of the Kingsmil isles and the Radack chain,I fancied there could be naught but an endless sea.
CHAPTER XIIIOf The Chondropterygii, And Other Uncouth Hordes Infesting The South Seas
At intervals in our lonely voyage, there were sights whichdiversified the scene; especially when the constellation Pisces wasin the ascendant.
It's famous botanizing, they say, in Arkansas' boundless prairies; Icommend the student of Ichthyology to an open boat, and the oceanmoors of the Pacific. As your craft glides along, what strangemonsters float by. Elsewhere, was never seen their like. And nowhereare they found in the books of the naturalists.
Though America be discovered, the Cathays of the deep are unknown.And whoso crosses the Pacific might have read lessons to Buffon. Thesea-serpent is not a fable; and in the sea, that snake is but agarden worm. There are more wonders than the wonders rejected, andmore sights unrevealed than you or I ever ever dreamt of. Moles andbats alone should be skeptics; and the only true infidelity is for alive man to vote himself dead. Be Sir Thomas Brown our ensample; who,while exploding "Vulgar Errors," heartily hugged all the mysteries inthe Pentateuch.
But look! fathoms down in the sea; where ever saw you a phantom likethat? An enormous crescent with antlers like a reindeer, and a Deltaof mouths. Slowly it sinks, and is seen no more.
Doctor Faust saw the devil; but you have seen the "Devil Fish."
Look again! Here comes another. Jarl calls it a Bone Shark. Full aslarge as a whale, it is spotted like a leopard; and tusk-like teethoverlap its jaws like those of the walrus. To seamen, nothing strikesmore terror than the near vicinity of a creature like this. Greatships steer out of its path. And well they may; since the good craftEssex, and others, have been sunk by sea-monsters, as the alligatorthrusts his horny snout through a Carribean canoe.
Ever present to us, was the apprehension of some sudden disaster fromthe extraordinary zoological specimens we almost hourly passed.
For the sharks, we saw them, not by units, nor by tens, nor byhundreds; but by thousands and by myriads. Trust me, there are moresharks in the sea than mortals on land.
And of these prolific fish there are full as many species as of dogs.But by the German naturalists Muller and Henle, who, in christeningthe sharks, have bestowed upon them the most heathenish names, theyare classed under one family; which family, according to Muller,king-at-arms, is an undoubted branch of the ancient and famous tribeof the Chondropterygii.
To begin. There is the ordinary Brown Shark, or sea attorney, socalled by sailors; a grasping, rapacious varlet, that in spite of thehard knocks received from it, often snapped viciously at our steeringoar. At times, these gentry swim in herds; especially about theremains of a slaughtered whale. They are the vultures of the deep.
Then we often encountered the dandy Blue Shark, a long, taper andmighty genteel looking fellow, with a slender waist, like a Bond-street beau, and the whitest tiers of teeth imaginable. This daintyspark invariably lounged by with a careless fin and an indolent tail.But he looked infernally heartless.
How his cold-blooded, gentlemanly air, contrasted with the rude,savage swagger of the Tiger Shark; a round, portly gourmand; withdistended mouth and collapsed conscience, swimming about seeking whomhe might devour. These gluttons are the scavengers of navies,following ships in the South Seas, picking up odds and ends ofgarbage, and sometimes a tit-bit, a stray sailor. No wonder, then,that sailors denounce them. In substance, Jarl once assured me, thatunder any temporary misfortune, it was one of his sweetestconsolations to remember, that in his day, he had murdered, notkilled, shoals of Tiger Sharks.
Yet this is all wrong. As well hate a seraph, as a shark. Both weremade by the same hand. And that sharks are lovable, witness theirdomestic endearments. No Fury so ferocious, as not to have someamiable side. In the wild wilderness, a leopard-mother caresses hercub, as Hagar did Ishmael; or a queen of France the dauphin. We knownot what we do when we hate. And I have the word of my gentlemanlyfriend Stanhope, for it; that he who declared he loved a good haterwas but a respectable sort of Hottentot, at best. No very genteelepithet this, though coming from the genteelest of men. But when thedigger of dictionaries said that saying of his, he was assuredly notmuch of a Christian. However, it is hard for one given up toconstitutional hypos like him; to be filled with the milk andmeekness of the gospels. Yet, with deference, I deny that my olduncle Johnson really believed in the sentiment ascribed to him. Lovea hater, indeed! Who smacks his lips over gall? Now hate is athankless thing. So, let us only hate hatred; and once give loveplay, we will fall in love with a unicorn. Ah! the easiest way is thebest; and to hate, a man must work hard. Love is a delight; but hatea torment. And haters are thumbscrews, Scotch boots, and Spanishinquisitions to themselves. In five words--would they were a Siamesediphthong--he who hates is a fool.
For several days our Chamois was followed by two of these aforesaidTiger Sharks. A brace of confidential inseparables, jogging along inour wake, side by side, like a couple of highwaymen, biding theirtime till you come to the cross-roads. But giving it up at last, fora bootless errand, they dropped farther and farther astern, untilcompletely out of sight. Much to the Skyeman's chagrin; who longstood in the stern, lance poised for a dart.
But of all sharks, save me from the ghastly White Shark. For thoughwe should hate naught, yet some dislikes are spontaneous; anddisliking is not hating. And never yet could I bring myself to beloving, or even sociable, with a White Shark. He is not the sort ofcreature to enlist young affections.
This ghost of a fish is not often encountered, and shows plainer bynight than by day. Timon-like, he always swims by himself; glidingalong just under the surface, revealing a long, vague shape, of amilky hue; with glimpses now and then of his bottomless white pit ofteeth. No need
of a dentist hath he. Seen at night, stealing alonglike a spirit in the water, with horrific serenity of aspect, theWhite Shark sent many a thrill to us twain in the Chamois.
By day, and in the profoundest calms, oft were we startled by theponderous sigh of the grampus, as lazily rising to the surface, hefetched a long breath after napping below.
And time and again we watched the darting albicore, the fish with thechain-plate armor and golden scales; the Nimrod of the seas, to whomso many flying fish fall a prey. Flying from their pursuers, many ofthem flew into our boat. But invariably they died from the shock. Nonursing could restore them. One of their wings I removed, spreadingit out to dry under a weight. In two days' time the thin membrane,all over tracings like those of a leaf, was transparent as isinglass,and tinted with brilliant hues, like those of a changing silk.