CHAPTER XXVII.
I ENCOUNTER A WHALER.
I had been six days and nights at sea, and the morning of the seventhday had come. With the exception of one day of strong south-westerlywinds, which ran me something to the northwards, the weather had beenfine, bitterly cold indeed, but bright and clear. In this time I had runa distance of about six hundred and fifty miles to the east, and with noother cloths upon the schooner than her spritsail.
I confess, as the hours passed away and nothing hove into view, I grewdispirited and restless; but, on the other hand, I was comforted by thebright weather and the favourable winds, and particularly by thevessel's steering herself, which enabled me to get rest, to keep myselfwarm with the fire, and to dress my food, yet ever pushing onwards(however slowly) into the navigated regions of this sea.
On the morning of the seventh day I came on deck, having slept sincefour o'clock. The wind was icy keen, pretty brisk, about west by south;the movement in the sea was from the south, and rolled very grandly;there was a fog that way, too, that hid the horizon, bringing theocean-line to within a league of the schooner; but the other quartersswept in a dark, clear, blue line against the sky, and there was such aclarity of atmosphere as made the distances appear infinite.
I went below and lighted the fire and got my breakfast, all veryleisurely, and when I was done I sat down and smoked a pipe. It was sokeen on deck that I had no mind to leave the fire, and, as all was well,I lounged through the best part of two hours in the cook-house, when,thinking it was now time to take another survey of the scene I went ondeck.
On looking over the larboard bulwark rail, the first thing I saw was aship about two miles off. She was on the larboard tack, under courses,topsails, and main-topgallant sail, heading as if to cross my bows. Thesunshine made her canvas look as white as snow against the skirts of thebody of vapour that had trailed a little to leeward of her, and herblack hull flashed as though she discharged a broadside every time sherose wet to the northern glory out of the hollow of the swell with acurl of silver at her cutwater.
My heart came into my throat; I seemed not to breathe; not to have savedmy life could I have uttered a cry, so amazed and transported was I bythis unexpected apparition. I stared like one in a dream, and my headfelt as if all the blood in my body had surged into it. But then, all ona sudden, there happened a revulsion of feeling. Suppose she shouldprove a privateer--a French war-vessel--of a nation hostile to my own?Thought so wrought in me that I trembled like an idiot in a fright. Thetelescope was too weak to resolve her, I could do better with my eyes;and I stood at the bulwarks gazing and gazing as if she were the spectreship of the Scandinavian legend.
There were flags below and I could have hoisted a signal of distress:but to what purpose? If the appearance of the schooner did notsufficiently illustrate her condition, there was certainly no virtue inthe language and declarations of bunting to exceed her own muteassurance. I watched her with a passion of anxiety, never doubting herintention to speak to me, at all events to draw close and look at me,wholly concerning myself with her character. The swell made us bothdance, and the blue brows of the rollers would often hide her to theheight of her rails; but we were closing each other middling fast shetravelling at seven and I at four miles in the hour, and presently Icould see that she carried a number of boats.
A whaler, thought I; and after a little I was sure of it by perceivingthe rings over her top-gallant rigging for the look-out to stand in.
On being convinced of this, I ran below for a shawl that was in mycabin, and, jumping on to the bulwarks, stood flourishing it for someminutes to let them know that there was a man aboard. She luffed todeaden her way, that I might swim close, and as we approached each otherI observed a crowd of heads forward looking at me, and several men aft,all staring intently.
A man scrambled on to the rail, and with an arm clasping a backstayhailed me:
"Schooner ahoy!" he bawled, with a strong nasal twang in his cry. "Whatship's that?"
"The _Boca del Dragon_," I shouted back.
"Where are you from, and where are you bound to?"
"I have been locked up in the ice," I cried, "and am in want of help.What ship are you?"
"The _Susan Tucker_, whaler, of New Bedford, twenty-seven months out,"he returned. "Where in creation got you that hooker?"
"I'm the only man aboard," I cried, "and have no boat. Send to me, inthe name of God, and let the master come!"
He waved his hand, bawling, "Put your helm down--you're forging ahead!"and so saying, dismounted.
I immediately cast the tiller adrift, put it hard over, and secured it,then jumped on to the bulwarks again to watch them. She was Yankeebeyond doubt; I had rather met my own countrymen; but, next to aBritish, I would have chosen an American ship to meet. Somehow, despitethe Frenchman, I felt to have been alone throughout my adventure; and sosore was the effect of that solitude upon my spirits that it seemedtwenty years since I had seen a ship, and since I had held commune withmy own species. I was terribly agitated, and shook in every limb. Lifemust have been precious always; but never before had it appeared soprecious as now, whilst I gazed at that homely ship, with hermain-topsail to the mast, swinging stately upon the swell, the faces ofthe seamen plain, the smoke of her galley-fire breaking from thechimney, the sounds of creaking blocks and groaning parrels stealingfrom her. Such a fountain of joy broke out of my heart that my wholebeing was flooded with it, and had that mood lasted I believe I shouldhave exposed the treasure in the run, and invited all the men of thewhaler to share in it with me.
They stared fixedly; little wonder that they should be astounded by suchan appearance as my ship exhibited. One of the several boats which hungat her davits was lowered, the oars flashed, and presently she was nearenough to be hit with a biscuit; but when there the master, as Isupposed him to be, who was steering, sung out, "'Vast rowing!" the boatcame to a stand, and her people to a man stared at me with their chinsupon their shoulders as if I had been a fiend. It was plain as apikestaff that they were frightened, and that the superstitions of theforecastle were hard at work in them whilst they viewed me. They lookeda queer company: two were negroes, the others pale-faced bearded men,wrapped up in clothes to the aspect of scarecrows. The fellow whosteered had a face as long as a wet hammock, and it was lengthened yetto the eye by a beard like a goat's hanging at the extremity of hischin.
He stood up--a tall, lank figure, with legs like a pair ofcompasses--and hailed me afresh, but the high swell, regular as theswing of a pendulum, interposed its brow between him and me, so that atone moment he was a sharply-lined figure against the sky of the horizon,and the next he and his boat and crew were sheer gone out of sight, andthis made an exchange of sentences slow and troublesome.
"Say, master," he sung out, "what d'ye say the schooner's name is?"
"The _Boca del Dragon_," I replied.
"And who are _you_, matey?"
"An English sailor who has been cast away on an island of ice," Ianswered, talking very shortly that the replies might follow thequestions before the swell sank him.
"Ay, ay," says he, "that's very well; but _when_ was you cast away,bully?"
I gave him the date.
"That's not a month ago," cried he.
"It's long enough, whatever the time," said I.
Here the crew fell a-talking, turning from one another to stare at me,and the negroes' eyes showed as big as saucers in the dismay of theirregard.
"See, here, master," sung out the long man, "if you han't been cast awaymore than a month, how come you clothed as men went dressed a centurysin', hey?"
The reason of their misgivings flashed upon me. It was not so much theschooner as my appearance. The truth was, my clothes having been wetted,I had ever since been wearing such thick garments as I met with in thecabin, keeping my legs warm with jackboots, and I had become so used tothe garb that I forgot I had it on. You will judge, then, that I musthave presented a figure very nicely calculated to excite the wonder andap
prehension of a body of men whose superstitious instincts were alreadysufficiently fluttered by the appearance of the schooner, when I tellyou that, in addition to the jackboots and a great fur cap, my costumewas formed of a red plush waistcoat laced with silver, purple breeches,a coat of frieze with yellow braiding and huge cuffs, and the cloak thatI had taken from the body of Mendoza.
"Captain," cried I, "if so be you are the captain, in the name of Godand humanity come aboard, sir." Here I had to wait till he reappeared."My story is an extraordinary one. You have nothing to fear. I am aplain English sailor; my ship was the _Laughing Mary_, bound in ballastfrom Callao to the Cape." Here I had to wait again. "Pray, sir, comeaboard. There is nothing to fear. I am alone--in grievous distress, andin want of help. Pray come, sir!"
There was so little of the goblin in this appeal that it resolved him.The crew hung in the wind, but he addressed them peremptorily. I heardhim damn them for a set of curs, and tell them that if they put himaboard they might lie off till he was ready to return, where they wouldbe safe, as the devil could not swim; and presently they buckled totheir oars again and the boat came alongside. The long man, watching hischance, sprang with great agility into the chains, and stepped on deck.I ran up to him and seized his hand with both mine.
"Sir," cried I, speaking with difficulty, so great was the tumult of myspirits and the joy and gratitude that swelled my heart, "I thank you athousand times over for this visit. I am in the most helpless conditionthat can be imagined. I am not astonished that you should have beenstartled by the appearance of this vessel and by the figure I make inthese clothes, but, sir, you will be much more amazed when you haveheard my story."
He eyed me steadfastly, examining me very earnestly from my boots to mycap, and then cast a glance around him before he made any reply to myaddress. He had the gauntness, sallowness of complexion, anddeliberateness of manner peculiar to the people of New England. Andthough he was a very ugly, lank, uncouth man, I protest he was as fairin my sight as if he had been the ambrosial angel described by Milton.
"Well, cook my gizzard," he exclaimed presently, through his nose, andafter another good look at me and along the decks and up aloft, "if thisain't mi-raculous, tew. Durned if we didn't take this hooker for someghost ship riz from the sea, in charge of a merman rigged out to fit herage. Y' are all alone, air you?"
"All alone," said I.
"Broach me every barrel aboard if ever I see sich a vessel," he cried,his astonishment rising with the searching glances he directed aloft andalow. "How old be she?"
"She was cast away in seventeen hundred and fifty-three," said I.
"Well, I'm durned. She's froze hard, sirree; I reckon she'll want a hotsun to thaw her. Split me, mister, if she ain't worth sailing home as ashow-box."
I interrupted his ejaculations by asking him to step below, where wecould sit warm whilst I related my story, and I asked him to invite hisboat's crew into the cabin that I might regale them with a bowl of suchliquor as I ventured to say had never passed their lips in this life. Onthis he went to the side, and, hailing the men, ordered all but one tostep aboard and drink to the health of the lonesome sailor they had comeacross. The word "drink" acted like a charm; they instantly hauled uponthe painter and brought the boat to the chains and tumbled over theside, one of the negroes remaining in her. They fell together in a body,and surveyed me and the ship with a hundred marks of astonishment.
"My lads," said I, "my rig is a strange one, but I'll explain allshortly. The clothes I was cast away in are below, and I'll show youthem. I'm no spectre, but as real as you; though I have gone through somuch that, if I am not a ghost, it is no fault of old ocean, but owingto the mercy of God. My name is Paul Rodney, and I'm a native of London.You, sir," says I, addressing the long man, "are, I presume, the masterof the _Susan Tucker_?"
"At your sarvice--Josiah Tucker is my name, and that ship is my wifeSusan."
"Captain Tucker, and you, men, will you please step below," says I. "Theweather promises fair; I have much to tell, and there is that in thecabin which will give you patience to hear me."
I descended the companion-stairs, and they all followed, making theinterior that had been so long silent ring with their heavy tread,whilst from time to time a gruff, hoarse whisper broke from one of them.But superstition lay strong upon their imagination, and they were awedand quiet. The daylight came down the hatch, but for all that the cabinwas darksome.
I waited till the last man had entered, and then said, "Before we settledown to a bowl and a yarn, captain, I should like to show you this ship.It'll save me a deal of description and explanation if you will bepleased to take a view."
"Lead on, mister," said he; "but we shall have to snap our eyelids andraise fire in that way, for durned if I, for one, can see in the dark."
I fetched three or four lanthorns, and, lighting the candles,distributed them among the men, and then, in a procession, headed by thecaptain and me, we made the rounds. I had half-cleared the arms-room,but there were weapons enough left, and they stared at them like yokelsin a booth. I showed them the cook-house and the forecastle, where thedeck was still littered with clothes, and chests, and hammocks; and,after carrying them aft to the cabins, gave them a sight of the hold. Inever saw men more amazed. They filled the vessel with theirexclamations. They never offered to touch anything, being too much awed,but stepped about with their heads uncovered, as quietly as they could,as though they had been in a crypt, and the influence of strange andterrifying memorials was upon them. I also showed them the clothes I hadcome away from the _Laughing Mary_ in; and, that I might submit such anaspect to them as should touch their sympathies, I whipped off the cloakand put on my own pilot-cloth coat.
There being nothing more to see, I led them to the cook-room, and therebrewed a great hearty bowl of brandy-punch, which I seasoned with lemon,sugar, and spices into as relishable a draught as my knowledge in thatway could compass, and, giving every man a pannikin, bade him dip andwelcome, myself first drinking to them with a brief speech, yet not sobrief but that I broke down towards the close of it, and ended with adry sob or two.
They would have been unworthy their country and their calling not tohave been touched by my natural manifestation of emotion; besides, thebrandy was an incomparably fine spirit, and the very perfume of thesteaming bowl was sufficient to stimulate the kindly qualities ofsailors who had been locked up for months in a greasy old ship, with nodiviner smells about than the stink of the try-works. The captain,standing up, called upon his men to drink to me, promising me that hewas very glad to have fallen in with my schooner, and then, looking atthe others, made a sign, whereupon they all fixed their eyes upon me anddrank as one man, every one emptying his pot and inverting it as aproof, and fetching a rousing sigh of satisfaction.
This ceremony ended, I began my story, beginning with the loss of the_Laughing Mary_, and proceeding step by step. I told them of the deadbody of Mendoza, but said nothing about the Frenchman and the mate, andthe Portugal boatswain, lest I should make them afraid of the vessel,and so get no help to work her. As to acquainting them with my recoveryof Tassard, after his stupor of eight-and-forty years, I should havebeen mute on that head in any case, for so extraordinary a relationcould, from such people, have earned me but one of two opinions: eitherthat I was mad and believed in an impossibility, or that I was a rogueand dealt in magic, and to be vehemently shunned. Yet there were wondersenough in my story without this, and I recited it to a runningcommentary of all sorts of queer Yankee exclamations.
There were seven seamen and the captain and I made nine, and we prettynearly filled the cook-room. 'Twas a scene to be handled by a Dutchbrush. We were a shaggy company, in several kinds of rude attire, andthe crimson light of the furnace, whose playing flames darted shadowsthrough the steady light of the lanthorns, caused us to appear verywild. The mariners' eyes gleamed redly as their glances rove round theplace, and, had you come suddenly among us, I believe you would havethought this band of pale, fire-touched, hair
y men, with the one ebonvisage among them, rendered the vessel a vast deal more ghostly thanever she could have shown when sailing along with me alone on board.
They were a good deal puzzled when I told them of the mines I had madeand sprung in the ice. They reckoned the notion fine, but could notconceive how I had, single-handed, broken out the powder-barrels, gotthem over the side, and fixed them.
"Why," said I, "'twas slow, heavy work, of course; but a man who laboursfor his life will do marvellous things. It is like the jump of a huntedstag."
"True for you," says the captain. "A swim of two miles spends me inpleasurin'; but I've swum eight mile to save my life, and stranded freshas a new-hooked cod. What's your intentions, sir?"
"To sail the schooner home," said I, "if I can get help. She's too goodto abandon. She'll fetch money in England."
"Ay, as a show."
"Yes, and as a coalman. Rig her modernly, and carry your forecastle deckinto the head, captain, and she's a brave ship, fit for a Baltimoreeye."
He stroked down the hair upon his chin.
"Dip, captain, dip, my lads; there's enough of this to drown ye in thehold," said I, pointing to the bowl. "Come, this is a happy meeting forme; let it be a merry one. Captain, I drink to the _Susan Tucker_."
"Sir, your servant. Here's to your sweetheart, be she wife or maid.Bill, jump on deck and take a look round. See to the boat."
One of the men went out.
"Captain," said I, "you are a full ship?"
"That's so."
"Bound home?"
"Right away."
"You have men enough and to spare. Lend me three of your hands to helpme to the Thames, and I'll repay you thus; there should be near ahundred tons of wine and brandy, of exquisite vintage, and choice withage beyond language in the hold. Take what you will of that freight;there'll be ten times the value of your lay in your pickings, modest asyou may prove. Help yourself to the clothes in the cabin and forecastle;they will turn to account. For the men you will spare, and who willvolunteer to help me, this will be my undertaking: the ship and all thatis in her to be sold on her arrival, and the proceeds equally divided.Shall we call it a thousand pounds apiece? Captain, she's well found:her inventory would make a list as long as you; I'd name a bigger sum,but here she is, you shall overhaul her hold and judge for yourself."
I watched him anxiously. No man spoke, but every eye was upon him. Hesat pulling down the hair on his chin, then, jumping up on a sudden andextending his hand, he cried, "Shake! it's a bargain, if the men 'lljine."
"I'll jine!" exclaimed a man.
There was a pause.
"And me," said the negro.
I was glad of this, and looked earnestly at the others.
"Is she tight?" said a man.
"As a bottle," said I.
They fell silent again.
"Joe Wilkinson and Washington Cromwell--them two jines," said thecaptain. "Bullies, he wants a third. Don't speak all together."
The man named "Bill" at this moment returned to the cook-room, andreported all well above. My offer was repeated to him, but he shook hishead.
"This is the Horn, mates," said he. "There's a deal o' water 'tween thisand the Thames. How do she sail?--no man knows."
"I want none but willing men," said I. "Americans make as good sailorsas the English. What an English seaman can face any of you can. There isanother negro in the boat. Will you let him step aboard, captain? He mayjoin."
A man was sent to take his place. Presently he arrived, and I gave him acup of punch.
"'Splain the business to him, sir," said the captain, filling hispannikin; "his name's Billy Pitt."
I did so; and when I told him that Washington Cromwell had offered, heinstantly said, "All right, massa, I'll be ob yah."
This was exactly what I wanted, and had there been a third negro I'dhave preferred him to the white man.
"But how are you going to navigate this craft home with three men?" saidthe man "Bill" to me.
"There'll be four; we shall do. The fewer the more dollars, hey,Wilkinson?"
He grinned, and Cromwell broke into a ventral laugh.
They seemed very well satisfied, and so was I.