"Stranger! I fled the home of grief,
At Connoeht Moran's tomb to fall;
I found the helmet of my chief,
His bow still hanging on our wall."
Campbell.
"Amphibious!" exclaimed Roswell Gardiner, in an aside to Mary, as the
stranger entered the room, following Baiting Joe's lead. The last only
came for his glass of rum-and-water, served with which by the aid of the
negro, he passed the back of his hand across his mouth, napkin-fashion,
nodded his "good-day," and withdrew. As for the stranger, Roswell
Gardiner's term being particularly significant, it may be well to make a
brief explanation.
The word "amphibious" is, or rather _was_, well applied to many of the
seamen, whalers, and sealers, who dwelt on the eastern end of Long Island,
or the Vineyard, around Stonington, and, perhaps we might add, in the
vicinity of New Bedford. The Nantucket men had not base enough, in the way
of terra firma, to come properly within the category. The class to which
the remark strictly applied were sailors without being seamen, in the
severe signification of the term. While they could do all that was
indispensably necessary to take care of their vessels, were surpassed by
no other mariners in enterprise, and daring, and hardihood, they knew
little about "crowning cables," "carrick-bends," and all the mysteries of
"knotting," "graffing," and "splicing." A regular Delaware-bay seaman
would have turned up his nose in contempt at many of their ways, and at
much of their real ignorance; but, when it came to the drag, or to the
oar, or to holding out in bad weather, or to any of the more manly
qualities of the business, he would be certain to yield his respect to
those at whom it had originally been his disposition to laugh. It might
best describe these men to say that they bore some such relation to the
thorough-bred tar, as the volunteer bears to the regular soldier.
As a matter of course, the stranger was invited to take his seat at the
table. This he did without using many phrases; and Mary had reason to
believe, by his appetite, that he thought well of her culinary skill.
There was very little of the sheepshead left when this, its last
assailant, shoved his plate back, the signal that he could do no more. He
then finished a glass of rum-and-water, and seemed to be in a good
condition to transact the business that had brought him there. Until this
moment, he had made no allusion to the motive of his visit, leaving the
deacon full of conjectures.
"The fish of Peconic and Gar'ner's is as good as any I know," coolly
observed this worthy, after certainly having established some claim to
give an opinion on the subject. "We think ourselves pretty well off, in
this respect, on the Vineyard--"
"On the Vineyard!" interrupted the deacon, without waiting to hear what
was to follow.
"Yes, sir, on Martha's Vineyard--for that's the place I come from. Perhaps
I ought to have introduced myself a little more particularly--I come from
Martha's Vineyard, and my name is Daggett."
The deacon fairly permitted the knife, with which he was spreading some
butter, to fall upon his plate. "Daggett" and the "Vineyard" sounded
ominously. Could it be that Dr. Sage had managed to get a message so far,
in so short a time; and had this amphibious inhabitant of the neighbouring
island come already to rob him of his treasure? The perceptions of the
deacon, at first, were far from clear; and he even imagined that all he
had expended on the Sea Lion was thrown away, and that he might be even
called on to give some sort of an account, in a court of chancery, of the
information obtained from the deceased. A little reflection, however,
sufficed to get the better of this weakness, and he made a civil
inclination of his head, as much as to tell the stranger, notwithstanding
his name and place of residence, that he was welcome. Of course no one but
the deacon himself knew of the thoughts that troubled him, and after a
very brief delay, the guest proceeded with his explanations of the object
of his visit.
"The Daggetts are pretty numerous on the Vineyard," continued the
stranger, "and when you name one of them it is not always easy to tell
just what family he belongs to. One of our coasters came into the Hull
(Holmes' Hole was meant) a few weeks since, and reported that she spoke an
inward-bound brig, off New Haven, from which she heard that the people of
that craft had put ashore, at Oyster Pond, a seafaring man, who belonged
to the Vineyard, and who was bound home, arter an absence of fifty years,
and whose name was Thomas Daggett. The word passed through the island, and
a great stir it made among all us Daggetts. There's plenty of our Vineyard
people wandering about the 'arth, and sometimes one drops in upon the
island, just to die. As most of them that come back bring something with
them, it's gen'rally thought a good sign to hear of their arrival. After
casting about, and talking with all the old folks, it has been concluded
that this Thomas Daggett must be a brother of my father's, who went to sea
about fifty years since, and has never been seen or heard of since. He's
the only person of the name for whom we can't account, and the family have
got me to come across to look him up."
"I am sorry, Mr. Daggett, that you are so late," answered the deacon,
slowly, as if unwilling to give pain. "Had you come last week, you might
have seen and conversed with your relation; or had you come early this
morning, only, you might have attended his funeral. He came among us a
stranger, and we endeavoured to imitate the conduct of the good Samaritan.
I believe he had all the comforts that Oyster Pond can give; and,
certainly, he had the best advice. Dr. Sage, of Sag Harbour, attended him
in his last illness--Dr. Sage, of the Harbour: doubtless you have heard
_him_ mentioned?"
"I know him by reputation, and make no doubt all was done that could be
done. As the sloop I named lay by the brig some time, in a calm, the two
captains had a long talk together; and ours had prepared us to hear of our
kinsman's speedy dissolution. He was in a decline when he landed, and we
suppose that no human skill could have saved him. As he had so skilful a
physician, and one who came so far, I suppose my uncle must have left
property?"
This was a home-thrust; but, fortunately for the deacon, he had already
prepared himself with an answer.
"Sea-faring men, that are landed on points and capes, from inward-bound
vessels, are not very apt to be overloaded with worldly goods," he said,
smiling. "When a man prospers in that calling, he usually comes ashore at
a wharf, in some large place, and gets into his coach, to ride up to some
grand tavern! I have remarked, pastor, that sea-faring men love comforts
and free-living, unaccountably, when they can fairly get a chance at 'em."
"That is natural, deacon--quite natural; and what is natural, is very
likely to happen. The natural man loves all sorts of indulgences, and
these among others."
As there was no gainsaying this commonplace commentary on the species, it
was permitted to pass unanswered.
"I hope my kinsman has not been a burthen to any on Oyster Pond?" said the
nephew, inquiringly.
"I cannot say that he has," returned the deacon. "He was at little cost,
at first, and got along by selling a few odd things that he owned. As
Providence had placed him in the dwelling of a poor widow, I thought it
might be pleasing to the friends--and every man has _some_ friends, I
suppose--to settle with _her_. This I did, this very morning, taking her
receipt in full, as you can see," passing the paper to the stranger. "As a
sort of security for my advances, I had the chest of the deceased removed
to this house; and it is now up-stairs, ready to be examined. It feels
light, and I do not think much silver or gold will be found in it."
To own the truth, the Vineyard seaman looked a little disappointed. It was
so natural that a man who has been absent fifty years should bring back
the fruits of his labour, that he had expected some slight reward for the
trouble he was now taking, to be bestowed in this particular form. This,
however, was not the specific object of his visit, as will appear as we
proceed. Keeping in view his real motive, the nephew continued his
inquiries, always putting his questions a little indirectly, and receiving
answers that were as evasive and cautious as his own interrogatories. All
this was characteristic of the wary people from which both had sprung, who
seldom speak, in a matter of business, without bearing in mind all the
possible constructions of what they are saying. After a discourse of some
fifteen minutes, in which the history of the chest, in its outlines, was
fully given, and during which the stranger produced written evidence of
his right to interfere, it was determined to make an inventory, on the
spot, of the property left by Daggett, for the benefit of all who might
have any interest in it. Accordingly, the whole party, including Mary, was
soon assembled in the deacon's own room, with the sea-chest placed
invitingly in the centre. All eyes were fastened on the lid, in curious
anticipations of the contents; for, the deacon excepted, all supposed that
those contents were a profound secret. The Widow White could have told
them better, she having rummaged that chest a dozen times, at least,
though without abstracting even a pin. Curiosity had been her ruling
motive, far more than cupidity. It is true, the good woman had a prudent
regard to her own interests, and felt some anxiety to learn the prospects
of her receiving the stipulated price for board--only $1.50 per week--but
the sales of the needles, and palms, and carved whale-bone, having kept
her accounts reasonably square, solicitude on this particular interest was
not at is height. No: curiosity, pure female curiosity, a little quickened
by the passion which is engendered among the vulgar by the possession of a
slight degree of instruction, was really at the bottom of her researches.
Not only had she handled every article in the chest, but she had read, and
re-read, every paper it contained, half-a-dozen letters included, and made
her own surmises on their nature. Still, the good woman was very little
the wiser for her inquiries. Of the great secret she knew absolutely
nothing, unless the broken hints collected in her many listenings, could
be so considered. But, here her ignorance ceased. Every hole in a shirt,
every patch in a pair of trousers, and every darn in a stocking, had been
examined, and its probable effect on the value of the garment duly
estimated. The only thing that had escaped her scrutiny was a small till,
that was locked. Into that she could not look, and there were moments when
she would have parted with a finger in order to overhaul it.
"This jacket might sell for a dollar," had the Widow White calculated,
"but for the hole in the elbow; and, that well patched, would bring
seventy-five cents. Them trowsers must have cost two dollars, but they
ar'n't worth half price now. That pee-jacket is the best article in the
chest, and, sent across to the Harbour, about the time the ships are going
out, it would bring enough to maintain Daggett a month!"
Such had been the character of the widow's visitations to the chest,
though no one knew anything of her discoveries, not even her
sister-relict, neighbour Stone.
"Here is the key," said the deacon, producing that instrument from the
drawer of a table, as if he had laid it carefully aside for some such
moment, "I dare say it will be found to fit, for I remember to have seen
Daggett use it once or twice myself."
Roswell Gardiner, as the youngest man, and the one on whom the labouring
oar ought to fall, now took the key, applied it to the lock, turned it
without difficulty, and then lifted the lid. Disappointment appeared on
every face but that of the deacon, at the meagre prospect before the
company. Not only was the chest more than half empty, but the articles it
did contain were of the coarsest materials; well worn sea-clothes that had
seen their best days, and which had never been more than the coarse common
attire of a foremast hand.
"There is little here to pay a man for crossing from the Vineyard,"
observed Roswell Gardiner, a little drily; for he did not half like the
appearance of cupidity that shone through the nephew's tardy concern for
the fate of the uncle. "The last voyage has not been prosperous, I fear,
or the owners failed before the vessel got in! What is to be done with all
this dunnage, deacon?"
"It would be best to take out the contents, article by article," answered
the other, "and examine each and all. Now that we have made a beginning
with the inventory, it is best to go through with it."
The young man obeyed calling out the name of each article of dress, as he
raised it from its receptacle, and passing it over to him who stood there
in the character of a sort of heir-at-law. The last gave each garment a
sharp look, and prudently put his hand into every pocket, in order to
make sure that it was empty, before he laid the article on the floor.
Nothing was discovered for some time, until a small key was found in the
fob of a pair of old 'go-ashore' pantaloons. As there was the till to the
chest already mentioned, and a lock on that till, the heir at-law kept the
key, saying nothing touching its existence.
"The deceased does not appear to have been much afflicted with this
world's wealth," said the Rev. Mr. Whittle, whose expectations, to own the
truth, had been a little disappointed. "This may have been all the better
for him, when the moment of departure drew near."
"I dare say he would have borne the burthen cheerfully," put in Roswell
Gardiner, "to have been a little more comfortable. I never knew a person,
seaman or landsman, who was ever the worse for having things snug about
him, and for holding on to the better end of his cheer, as long as he
could."
"_Your_ notion of what is best for man as he draws near to his end,
captain Gar'ner, is not likely to be of the most approved nature. The sea
does not produce many very orthodox divines."
The young sailor coloured, bit his lip, cast a glance at Mary, and began a
nearly inaudible whistle. In a moment he forgot the rebuke he had
received, and laughingly went on with the inventory.
"Well," he cried, "this is rather a poorer outfit than Jack is apt to
carry! _in_fit, I suppose it should be called, as the poor fellow who
owned it was inward bound, when he brought up on Oyster Pond. You'll
hardly think it worth while, captain Daggett, to take this dunnage across
to the Vineyard."
"It is scarce worth the trouble, though friends and relations may set a
value on it that strangers do not. I see a couple of charts there--will
you hand them this way, if you please? They may have a value with a
sea-faring man, as old mariners sometimes make notes that are worth as
much as the charts themselves."
This was said very naturally and simply; but it gave the deacon a good
deal of concern. Nor was this feeling at all lessened by the earnest, not
to say eager, manner in which Daggett, as we shall now call this member of
the family, spread the chart on the bed, and began to pry into its
records. The particular chart first opened in this way, was the one
including the antarctic circle, and, of course, was that from which the
deacon had been at so much pains to erase the sealing-islands, that the
deceased mariner had laid down with so great precision and care. It was
evident that the Martha's Vineyard-man was looking for something that he
could not find, and that he felt disappointment. Instead of looking at the
chart, indeed, he may be said to have been peering at it, in all its holes
and crannies, of which there were not a few, in consequence of the torn
condition of the paper. Several minutes elapsed ere the investigation
terminated, the stranger seeming, all that time, to feel no interest in
the remainder of his relation's wardrobe.
"This is an old chart, and of the date of 1802," observed Daggett, raising
himself erect, as a man who has long been bent takes the creaks out of his
back. "So old a chart as to be of little use now-a-day. Our sealers have
gone over so much of the ground to the southward of the two capes, as to
be able to do much better than this now."
"Your uncle had the appearance of an old-fashioned sailor," coldly
observed the deacon; "and it may be that he most liked old-fashioned
charts."
"If such was the case he must have pretty well forgotten his Vineyard
schooling. There is not a woman there who doesn't know that the latest
chart is commonly the best. I own I'm disapp'inted somewhat; for the
master of the sloop gave me to understand he had heard from the master of
the brig, that some valuable information was to be found on the old
gentleman's charts."
The deacon started, as here was an indication that the deceased had talked
of his knowledge to others, as well as to himself! It was so natural for a
man like Daggett to boast of what his charts were worth, that he saw the
extreme probability that a difficulty might arise from this source. It was
his cue, however, to remain silent, and let the truth develop itself in
due course. His attention was not likely to be drawn aside by the shirts
and old clothes, for the stranger began a second time to examine the
chart, and what was more, in the high latitudes at no great distance from
the very spot where the sealing-islands had been placed, and from which
they had been so carefully erased.
"It is unaccountable that a man should wear out a chart like this, and
leave so few notes on it!" said the Vineyard-man, much as one complains of
a delinquency. "Here is white water noted in the middle of the ocean,
where I dare say no other white water was seen but that which is made by a
fish, and nothing is said of any islands. What do you think of this,
captain Gar'ner?" laying his finger on the precise spot where the deacon
had been at work so long that very morning erasing the islands. "This
looks well-fingered, if nothing else, eh?"
"Its a shoal laid down in dirt," answered Roswell Gardiner,
laughing--"Let's see; that's about lat. --° --", and long. --° --". There
can be no known land thereaway, as even captain Cook did not succeed in
getting as far south. That's been a favourite spot with the skipper for
taking hold of his chart. I've known one of those old-fashioned chaps put
his hand on a chart, in that way, and never miss his holding ground for
three years on a stretch. Mighty go-by-rule people are some of our
whaling-masters, in particular, who think they know the countenances of
some of the elderly fish, who are too cunning to let a harpoon get fast to
'em."
"You've been often in them seas, I some think, captain Gar'ner?" said the
other, inquiringly.
"I was brought up in the business, and have a hankering for it yet,"
returned the young man, frankly. "Nor do I care so much for charts. They
are well enough when a vessel is on her road; but, as for whales or seals,
the man who wishes to find either, in these times, has to look for them,
as I tell my owner. According to reports, the time has been when a craft
had only to get an offing to fall in with something that was worth putting
a harpoon into; but those days are gone, captain Daggett; and whales are
to be looked after, out at sea, much as money is to be looked for ashore
here."
"Is the craft I saw at the wharf fitting out for a whaler, then?"
"She is going after luck, and will accept of it, in whatever form it may
turn up."
"She is rather small for the whaling business, though vessels of that
size _have_ done well, by keeping close in upon our own coast."
"We shall know better what she will do after she has been tried," returned
Gardiner, evasively. "What do you think of her for the Banks of
Newfoundland?"
The Martha's Vineyard-man gave his brother tar a quick, impatient glance,
which pretty plainly said, "tell that to the marines," when he opened the
second chart, which as yet had been neglected.
"Sure enough," he muttered, in a low tone, though loud enough to be heard
by the keenly attentive deacon; "here it is--a chart of the West Indies,
and of all the keys!"
By this casual, spontaneous outbreaking, as it might be, the deacon got
another clue to the stranger's knowledge, that gave him increased
uneasiness. He was now convinced that, by means of the masters of the brig
and the sloop, such information had been sent to the relatives of Daggett
as had prepared them to expect the very revelations on which he hoped to
establish his own fortunes. To what extent these revelations had been
made, of course he could only conjecture; but there must have been a good
deal of particularity to induce the individual who had come over to Oyster
Pond to look into the two charts so closely. Under the circumstances,
therefore, he felicitated himself on the precaution he had so early taken
to erase the important notations from the paper.
"Captain Gar'ner, your eyes are younger than mine," said the Vineyard-man,
holding the chart up to the light--"will you be good enough to look
here?--does it not seem as if that key had been noted, and the words
rubbed off the chart?"
This caused the deacon to peer over Roswell Gardiner's shoulder, and glad
enough was he to ascertain that the stranger had placed his finger on a
key that must lie several hundred miles from that which was supposed to
hold the buried treasure of the pirates. Something like an erasure did
appear at the indicated point; but the chart was so old and dirty, that
little satisfaction could be had by examining it. Should the inquirer
settle down on the key he evidently had in his eye, all would be well,
since it was far enough from the spot really noted.
"It is strange that so old a seafaring man should wear out a chart, and
make no observation on it!" repeated the stranger, who was both vexed and
at a loss what to conjecture. "All my charts are written over and marked
off, just as if I meant to get out an edition for myself."
"Men differ in their tastes and habits," answered Roswell Gardiner,
carelessly. "Some navigators are for ever finding rocks, and white water,
and scribbling on their charts, or in the newspapers, when they get back;
but I never knew any good come of it. The men who make the charts are most
to be trusted. For my part, I would not give a sixpence for a note made by
a man who passes a shoal or a rock, in a squall or a gale."
"What would you say to the note of a sealer who should lay down an island
where the seals lie about on the beach like pigs in a pen, sunning
themselves? Would you not call a chart so noted a treasure?"
"That would alter the case, sure enough," returned Gardiner, laughing;
"though I should not think of looking into this chest for any such riches.
Most of our masters navigate too much at random to make their charts of
any great value. They can find the places they look for themselves, but
don't seem to know how to tell other people the road. I have known my old
man lay down a shoal that he fancied he saw, quite a degree out of the
way. Now such a note as that would do more harm than good. It might make a
foul wind of a fair one, and cause a fellow to go about, or ware ship,
when there was not the least occasion in the world for doing anything of
the sort."
"Ay, ay; this will do for nervous men, who are always thinking they see
danger ahead; but it is different with islands that a craft has actually
visited. I do not see much use, Deacon Pratt, in your giving yourself any
further trouble. My uncle was not a very rich man, I perceive, and I must
go to work and make my own fortune if I wish more than I've got already.
If there is any demand against the deceased, I am ready to discharge it."
This was coming so much to the point that the deacon hardly knew what to
make of it. He recollected his own ten dollars, and the covetousness of
his disposition so far got the better of his prudence as to induce him to
mention the circumstance.
"Dr. Sage may have a charge--no doubt has one, that ought to be settled,
but your uncle mainly paid his way as he went on. I thought the widow who
took care of him was entitled to something extra, and I handed her ten
dollars this morning, which you may repay to me or not, just as you
please."
Captain Daggett drew forth his wallet and discharged the obligation on the
spot. He then replaced the charts, and, without opening the till of the
chest, he shut down the lid, locked it, and put the key in his pocket,
saying that he would cause the whole to be removed, much as if he felt
anxious to relieve the deacon of an incumbrance. This done, he asked a
direction to the dwelling of the Widow White, with whom he wished to
converse, ere he left the Point.
"I shall have the questions of so many cousins to answer, when I get
home," he said, smiling, "that it will never do for me to go back without
taking all the talk I can get with me. If you will be kind enough to show
me the way, captain Gar'ner, I will promise to do as much for you, when
you come to hunt up the leavings of some old relation on the Vineyard."
Roswell Gardiner very cheerfully complied, not observing the look of
dissatisfaction with which his owner listened to the request. Away the two
went, then, and were soon at the widow's door. Here the young man left his
companion, having duty to attend to on board the Sea Lion. The Widow White
received her guest with lively interest, it forming one of the greatest
pleasures of her existence to be imparting and receiving intelligence.
"I dare say you found my uncle a companionable man," observed the captain,
as soon as amicable relations were established between the parties, by
means of a few flattering remarks on one side and on the other. "The
Vineyard folks are generally quite conversable."
"That he was, captain Daggett; and when the deacon had not been over to
perplex him, and wake up the worldly spirit in him, he was as well
inclined to preparation as any sick person I ever waited on. To be sure
it _was_ different arter the deacon had paid one of his visits."
"Was Deacon Pratt in the habit of coming to read and pray with the sick?"
"He pray! I don't believe he as much as went through a single sentence of
a prayer in all his visits. Their whull talk was about islands and seals,
when they was by themselves."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the nephew, manifesting a new interest in the
discourse. "And what could they find to say on such subjects? Islands and
seals were a strange topic for a dying man!"
"I know it"--answered the widow, sharply. "I know'd it at the time; but
what could a lone woman do to set 'em right; and he a deacon of the
meetin' the whull time? If they _would_ talk of worldly things at such
times, it wasn't for one like me to put 'em right."
"Then this discourse was held openly in your presence--before your face,
as it might be, ma'am?"
"I can't say that it was just that; nor was it altogether when my back was
turned. They talked, and I overheard what was said, as will happen when a
body is about, you know."
The stranger did not press the point, having been brought up in what might
almost be termed a land of listeners. An island, that is cut off from much
communication with the rest of the earth, and from which two-thirds of the
males must be periodically absent, would be very likely to reach
perfection in the art of gossiping, which includes that of the listener.
"Yes," he answered, "one picks up a good deal, he doesn't know how. So
they talked of islands and seals?"
Thus questioned, the widow cheerfully opened her stores of knowledge. As
she proceeded in her account of the secret conferences between Deacon
Pratt and her late inmate, her zeal became quickened, and she omitted
nothing that she had ever heard, besides including a great deal that she
had not heard. But her companion was accustomed to such narratives, and
knew reasonably well how to make allowances. He listened with a
determination not to believe more than half of what she said, and by dint
of long experience, he succeeded in separating the credible portions of
the woman's almost breathless accounts, from those that ought to have been
regarded as incredible, with a surprising degree of success. The greatest
difficulty in the way of comprehending the Widow White's report, arose
from the fact that she had altogether missed the preliminary and most
explicit conference. This left so much to be understood and inferred,
that, in her own efforts to supply the deficiencies, she made a great deal
of confusion in the statements. Captain Daggett was fully assured that the
deacon knew of the existence of the sealing-island, at least; though he
was in doubt whether the rumour that had been brought to him, touching the
buried treasure, had also been imparted to this person. The purchase and
equipment of the Sea Lion, taken in connection with the widow's account,
were enough, of themselves, to convince one of his experience and
foresight, that an expedition after seal was then fitting out, on the
information derived from his deceased relative. Of this much he had no
doubt; but he was not able to assure himself, quite so satisfactorily,
that the key was to be looked at by the way.
The interview between Captain Daggett and the Widow White lasted more than
an hour. In that time the former had gleaned all the information the
latter could give, and they parted on the best terms in the world. It is
true that the captain gave the widow nothing--he had acquitted his
conscience on this score, by re-paying the deacon the money the last had
advanced--but he listened in the most exemplary manner to all she had to
say; and, with a certain class of vehement talkers, the most favoured
being in the world is your good listener. Interest had given the stranger
an air of great attention, and the delighted woman had poured out her
torrent of words in a way that gratified, in the highest degree, her
intense desire to be imparting information. When they separated, it was
with an understanding that letters, on the same interesting subject,
should pass between them.
That afternoon, Captain Daggett found means to remove the chest of his
late kinsman, across the bays, to Sag Harbour, whither he proceeded
himself by the same conveyance. There, he passed an hour or two in making
inquiries touching the state of equipment, and the probable time of the
departure of the Sea Lion. The fitting out of this schooner was the cause
of a good deal of discourse in all that region, and the Martha's
Vineyard-man heard numberless conjectures, but very little accurate
information. On the whole, however, he arrived at the conclusion that the
Sea Lion would sail within the next ten days; that her voyage was to be
distant; that her absence was expected to exceed a twelvemonth; and that
it was thought she had some other scheme in view, in addition to that of
sealing. That night, this hardy mariner--half agriculturist as he was--got
into his whale-boat, and sailed for the Vineyard, all alone, taking the
chest with him. This was nothing, however; for quite often, before, had he
been off at sea, in his boat, alone, looking out for inward-bound vessels
to pilot.