FRANK'S FIRST WHALE.
ALL this happened in much less time than we have taken to describe it.
To Frank, whose brain was in a great whirl, it seemed that scarcely
half a minute had elapsed after the raising of the whale, before he was
in the boat and pulling for dear life. He afterwards recalled every
exciting incident of that hour, and wondered that he did not feel any
fear. Perhaps it was because he was too busy to think. He was not so
busy, however, but that he could take note of and marvel at one thing,
and that was the great change that had suddenly come over the captain.
He looked and acted like a different man. He even smiled, and that was
something Frank had never seen him do before. Holding the steering-oar
with one hand and assisting the stroke-oar with the other, he kept up
a running fire of small-talk to encourage his men.
"Now, my good sons," said he, in a low voice and in much such a tone
as an affectionate father might use, "all my 'lay' in that whale will
go straight to your credit just as soon as we get back to the ship, if
you will only put me alongside of him so that I can get one chance at
him with the lance. I declare, it has been so long since I used a lance
that I don't know how it seems, and I shall get all out of practice if
you don't take pity on me. We must beat that other boat anyhow, and if
you pull this way, you are sure to do it. That's it; pick her right up
out of the water and walk along with her. She isn't a feather's weight
to such long-armed, broad-shouldered fellows as you are. That's the way
to do it; only raise her just an inch higher, my lads. She touched that
wave; I felt it, didn't you? There! she didn't touch that one and I
know it. Keep her there, my good lads. She's in the air now. Talk about
your balloons! Give me this boat and crew and I'll go anywhere they
can!"
For the first time since he came on board the Tycoon, Frank felt like
laughing. The captain reminded him of Hans Breitman's velocipede,
which, even before it became frightened and started to run away with
its rider, went so fast that it
"----didn't touch the dirt, by shinks,
Not once in half a mile."
"Bless me, what muscles those two fellows in the bow have got!"
continued the captain, still working at the stroke-oar with all his
strength. "And how they do twist them oars about, just as if they were
feathers! I've got to have stronger and heavier oars made for them, I
can see that, for they're bound to break them they've got now. Ah! she
touched that wave. Lift her up in the air again, where she belongs, and
hold her there. You fellows in the bow needn't think you can pull your
end of the boat so fast that we in the stern can't keep up with you. By
the way, is that sharp-eyed, good-looking son of mine, who raised this
whale, in the boat?"
"Yes, sir. It was Nelson," replied Lucas, promptly.
Frank, who did not believe in sailing under false colors, was about
to protest that it wasn't he at all--that Lucas himself was the lucky
man--but knowing the captain's uncertain disposition, and fearing that
there might be some after-settlement that would prove unpleasant for
the old boatswain's mate if the truth were known, he kept silent and
heard himself praised for an act that he did not perform.
"Ah! it is just like him," said the captain. "I knew there was lots in
him the first time I saw him. You can't fool me in a man. I can look
in his eye and read him like an open book. There's a boatsteerer's
berth ahead for you, Nelson," continued the captain, too excited and
impatient to think of the name he always applied to Frank in derision.
"Those boots belong to you, and when we get back to the ship you go
straight down to the slop-chest--I'll give you the key--and pick out
whatever you want. Take everything you find there--boots, breeches,
shirts and--no, no! Take the ship. She's yours! That's the way Daddy
Barclay treats his sons when they do their duty by him. Now, my lads,"
he added, in a thrilling whisper, "he's right here somewhere below us.
Lay on your oars now; keep your eyes peeled and don't let me hear so
much as an eye-wink from any of you."
Frank's heart fairly came up into his mouth. The captain's harangue
being ended (he had a suspicion that the skipper had kept it up on
purpose to divert the minds of his crew, one of whom was as green as
Frank himself), there was nothing to occupy his attention, and he had
leisure to ponder upon the dangers he was about to encounter. Of course
all the stories he had heard in the Tycoon's forecastle concerning the
perils to which whalemen are constantly exposed, came into his mind,
and to save his life he could think of nothing else. He felt as he had
often felt on going into action. After the crew are called to quarters
there is almost always a delay, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter,
before the first gun is fired, and to most men that is worse than the
battle itself. They are glad when it is over and the fight begins. The
interval of inactivity that came now gave the boat's crew a chance to
rest after their long, hard pull, but Frank could scarcely endure it.
He wanted the whale to show himself at once. If he was going to cut the
boat in two with his jaw or smash it into kindling wood with his tail,
Frank wished he would be about it and not keep him in suspense.
The whale was down a long time--so long that even the captain became
impatient. He and the boat's crew, Frank among the rest, arose to their
feet one after the other to obtain a wider view, and holding their oars
in their hands, kept a bright lookout in every direction. The first
mate's boat was lying about half a mile to windward, and her crew were
also standing up. The Tycoon had come to directly in the path the whale
was pursuing, and the third officer was at the mast-head, ready to
signal to the boat's crews if the whale arose beyond the range of their
vision. Frank's eyes were everywhere, and at last something induced him
to turn them into the water close alongside the boat. He saw something
there--an immense dark-blue object, which contrasted plainly with the
paler blue of the water. He looked again, and then glanced into the
water on the opposite side of the boat to make sure that his eyes had
not deceived him. The sea on that side was all the same color, and
that proved that there was something under the boat. He nudged Lucas
with his elbow and pointed to it. The old sailor looked, and instantly
every particle of color fled from his face. But he had nerve, if he was
frightened, plenty of it, too, and it showed itself in the firm grasp
he laid upon his harpoon. The time for action had arrived.
"He's coming," thought Frank, while the oar he held in his grasp seemed
to turn into lead, so heavy did it feel to his weakened arm. "I always
supposed a whale was black."
The boat header's action attracted the attention of the captain, who,
following the direction of his gaze gave a sudden start and waved his
hand to the crew. The men quickly seated themselves and dropped their
oars softly in the row-locks. The temptation to look over his shoulder
was almost irresistible, but fearing that if he did, his courage, which
was rapidly oozing out at the ends of his fingers, would give away
altogether, Frank resolutely controlled himself and kept his eyes fixed
on the captain's face.
"There he is," cried the skipper, a moment afterward. "Throw it at him
and go overboard if you miss him."
The old sailor obeyed the order to the very letter. He threw his
harpoon, missed his object and went overboard. Whether it was for the
reason that the boat was unsteady, or because the seaman was too badly
frightened to stand firmly on his feet, or because his hand had lost
its skill during the years that had passed since he struck his last
whale, it is hard to tell. Perhaps all these things combined operated
to bring about the events that followed. At any rate the iron went wild
and the old boatswain's mate turned a complete back somersault and
disappeared over the side. He rose immediately, however, and Frank
catching sight of him as a wave carried him past the boat, promptly
thrust his oar out to him.
The captain was almost beside himself with fury. He did not act or
talk quite so much like an affectionate father as he did a short time
before. He tore off his hat, trampled it under his feet and shook all
over with rage. "He missed him as sure as I'm a sinner," he sputtered,
hardly able to speak plainly. "If I had him aboard the ship I would
trice him up for a week. Let the fool go," he roared with a long string
of heavy adjectives, as Frank tried to place the blade of his oar in
the old sailor's grasp. "A man that'll get up on his legs and tumble
overboard while the boat is standing still, is of no use aboard a
vessel of mine; so let him go down among the sharks, where he belongs.
We're well rid of--Stern all! Stern for your lives! Well done, my son.
You've been in this business before, and you are my boat-header from
this day out."
The change in the captain's tone was brought about by an action on
Frank's part that was unexpected, even to himself. He scarcely knew he
did it until after it was done. Lucas, having missed his first throw
and gone overboard, had no chance for a second attempt, and unless
somebody took his place on the instant, the game was likely, if he did
not escape altogether, to lead them a long, hard race before they could
come up with him again. It required an emergency to show what Frank was
made of. He never waited to take a second thought, but throwing his oar
to the boatswain's mate--he knew it would keep him afloat until the
boat could pick him up--he jumped to his feet, catching up the extra
harpoon as he arose.
When his face was turned toward the bow of the boat, Frank saw a sight
that was well calculated to shake stronger nerves than his--a sperm
whale coming up on a breach almost within an oar's length of him. His
huge bulk was shooting up into the air, and he did not even make a
ripple in the water as he arose. But when he fell on his side, as he
did a moment later, he created something more than a ripple. He raised
waves that threatened to swamp the boat, and made a noise that would
have given Frank some idea of the immense weight of the monster, if he
had not been too highly excited and alarmed to have any ideas at all.
As the whale fell into the water--fortunately he fell away from the
boat--Frank's harpoon was launched into the air, and being thrown
with all the force his sinewy arms could give it, and flying true to
its aim, was buried to the socket in the side of the whale. The next
instant the young harpooner was thrown flat among the thwarts by the
sudden start backward which the crew gave the boat in obedience to the
captain's order "Stern all!" He heard something whistling through the
air, and looked up just in time to see the whale's flukes disappearing
in a pile of foam. How he opened his eyes at the sight of them! They
would have measured more feet across than the boat measured in length.
The whale gave the water an angry slap, raising a sea that would have
filled the boat had not the bow been promptly brought around toward
it, and then started down into the depths at the rate of a mile in six
minutes, the line fairly smoking as it whizzed through the lead-lined
groove. Frank held his breath while he gazed at it. It looked like
a streak of blue flame, so swiftly did it run out. If it caught on
anything, the boat and all her crew would be a hundred feet under water
in an instant's time.
The young harpooner did not hear any of the words of praise and
promises of reward which the delighted skipper shouted at him. He did
not hear anything but the hissing of the line as it ran through the
groove in the bow. He lay on the bottom perfectly stupefied, until he
was aroused by the touch of somebody's hand.
When the captain gave the order to "Stern all," the crew sent the boat
within reach of Lucas, who laid hold of the gunwale, and worked his
way along to the bow, where he belonged. Attracting Frank's attention
by a pull at his trowsers, he was hauled into the boat, and took his
seat, looking not a little crestfallen. He caught up a hatchet lying
near, and held it in his hand in readiness to cut the line in case it
fouled while running out. Frank also seated himself, and then began to
think about what he had done. No one in the boat could have been more
surprised at it.
"I don't want any more of this," said he, mentally. "It is just awful.
I can't stand it. While that fellow was shooting up toward the clouds
he looked like a church-steeple turned wrong end up. He must be a
hundred and fifty feet long--perhaps more. Who would have thought that
I had courage enough to send that harpoon at him?"
Here Frank looked over his shoulder as if to satisfy himself that he
had really performed the feat. There could be no mistake about it. The
line was still running out, and Lucas was watching it while hauling in
the harpoon with which he had missed the whale.
"I believe I did do it," thought Frank. "He is black after all. It was
the water that made him look so blue. I wouldn't do it again to be made
owner of the finest fleet of ships that ever floated!"
"Nelson," said the captain, and now that Frank's mind was settled a
little he was able to pay attention to him, "whatever I've got that you
want, just ask for it and it is yours. Don't be bashful or stand on
ceremony with your Daddy Barclay. Take a big bite if you want to."
"I have only one favor to ask, captain," replied Frank, suddenly
tempted to strike while the iron was hot, although he knew it would be
quite useless, "and that is----"
"Well, slack away lively, and let it come out on the run," said the
captain, as Frank hesitated a moment, wondering how he could word the
request so that the skipper would not get angry at him. "Speak it out."
"I should be greatly obliged if you would set me and the two men who
were shanghaied with me, ashore at the first port we make," said Frank.
"We shall use the right the law gives us, and ask to see the consul as
soon as we get there."
Frank's only motive in saying this was to let the captain know that he
understood the law applying to the rights of seamen; and he said it
at that time because he did not know that he would ever have another
chance, this being the first opportunity he had ever had to exchange
a word with the master of the Tycoon. If there is anything an officer
thoroughly detests it is a "sea lawyer" among his crew. One of these
gentry will keep a ship's company in hot water from the time the voyage
begins until it is ended; and his presence acts as a restraint upon
the captain and his mates, who, if they are disposed to be tyrannical,
expect to escape the consequences through the sailor's ignorance of
their rights. Frank knew this, and he was in hopes that if he let the
captain see that he knew what his privileges were, and that he intended
to insist on having them, the skipper would be glad to get rid of him
with as little delay as possible.
The master of the Tycoon had not a word to say in reply to this
request, but the look he gave Frank satisfied the latter that if he
had not spoken at the right time to further his own interests, he had
spoken at the right time to make the captain angry. He did not offer
Frank any more rewards after that.
The line continued to run out with great rapidity for a few minutes,
then the speed gradually decreased until it remained motionless, and
the actions of the captain and his crew indicated that the whale was
soon expected to make his appearance at the surface again. He came very
speedily, and much too close to the boat for the comfort and safety of
its crew. Seen through Frank's frightened eyes, his head looked like
a small mountain rising out of the water. His mouth was wide open,
showing a milk-white cavity large enough to take in the boat and all
its crew, and Frank gathered from something Lucas said that he was
ugly and had made up his mind to do some mischief. The sequel proved
that the old sailor was right. The monster began operations at once
by striking out with his long, sword-like jaw, which to Frank's great
amazement he worked sideways, instead of up and down, and followed
it up with a tremendous sweep of his tail that, had he succeeded in
planting the blow where he wanted it, would have made an end of his
enemies in a hurry. But both these dangers were escaped. His jaw just
touched the bow of the boat, and the blow from his flukes was avoided
by the vigilance of the captain and the prompt obedience of the crew,
who quickly backed the boat out of his reach. Apparently satisfied with
the demonstrations he had made, the whale got under way and made off at
an astonishing rate of speed, the harpoon which Frank had planted still
fast in his side.
The bow-oarsman now had a duty to perform, and he set about it without
waiting for orders. It was to overhaul the line and draw the boat up
alongside the whale, so that the captain, who stood ready to change
places with the harpooner, could use his lance. He rapidly drew in the
line, taking care to lay it down clear of everything, so that it would
not kink or get foul in case the whale sounded again, and soon had the
slack all in. Then he felt a strain upon it, and an instant afterward
the line was whipped out of the water with such force that it was
drawn as tight as a bow-string, and the spray flew from it in a perfect
shower.
"Hold fast to it, my son," yelled the captain. "Keep every inch you
get, and get every inch you can. We'll have a sleigh-ride now, and such
a one as landsmen know nothing about."
For a moment the strain was fearful, and Frank's power of muscle was
tested to the utmost. It seemed to him that if the harpoon did not
draw or the line break, his arms would be pulled off. Letting go was
something he did not think of; but he knew he could not retain his hold
much longer, so in spite of the old mate's warning gestures, he passed
a bight of the line around a thwart and held it there. By this time the
boat began to move, and the strain was somewhat lessened.
Now began a novel ride, which Frank thought he could have enjoyed if he
had only had leisure to give his attention to it. A whale can move at
tremendous speed for a short distance, and this one went at such a rate
that the boat buried her bow in the waves, and rolled back great masses
of foam, which, spreading out over the surface of the water, gave it
the appearance of a bank of snow. Perhaps it was this that first caused
the sailors to call a ride of this kind a sleigh-ride. But Frank had no
time to see what was going on around him. He had work to perform; and
it _was_ work to haul a heavy boat containing six men through the waves
against such resistance as the whale created by the high rate of speed
he kept up. The line was wet and slippery, and Frank's hands, which he
had fondly hoped were pretty well hardened by this time, soon began to
feel the effects of it.
In the first lesson he received while manœuvring about the "dummy
whale," Frank had been instructed how to adjust the line to make the
boat move side by side with a running whale and at a short distance
from it, and he struggled hard to bring the boat in that position; but
the line came in very slowly, and sometimes when he was almost on the
point of accomplishing his object, an unusually large wave striking the
bow or a sudden spurt on the part of the frantic beast in front, would
tear the line from his hands in spite of all he could do to prevent it.
At length, after Frank had worked his best for nearly an hour without
once pausing for breath, and the line had been drawn through his hands
for the third time, the captain's small stock of patience was all
exhausted, and he began to relieve his mind by uttering heavy oaths.
"Coward!" he yelled, stamping his feet as if he were trying to knock
a hole through the bottom of the boat. "If you are afraid to put me
alongside that whale, jump overboard and give place to a better man.
You're fixing your back for a rope's end as soon as you get aboard the
ship!"
Frank and the old boatswain's mate exchanged quick glances, one
elevating his eye-brows, and the other drawing his down. The first
meant: "If he tries it will you sing out?" and Frank by his answering
scowl meant: "I will." Not a word was passed, but each understood the
other perfectly.