STORY ONE, CHAPTER 7.

The captain of the _Juno_ took every precaution to prevent her being

surprised by the Indians. Boarding nettings were triced up round the

ship every night, and the watch on deck had arms ready at hand. None of

the natives were allowed to come on board, and only two or three canoes

were permitted alongside at a time. We judged by their manner, though

they were willing enough to trade, that they had already heard of what

had occurred to the northward.

Having got our wood and water on board, we again put to sea, cruising in

various parts of the ocean known to be frequented by whales. A bright

look-out was kept for their spouts as the monsters rose to the surface

to breathe. The instant a spout was seen all was life and animation on

board; the boats were lowered, generally two or three at a time, and

away they pulled to be ready to attack the whale as it again rose to the

surface. I remember, the first time I saw one of the monsters struck, I

shouted and jumped about the deck as eagerly as if I myself were engaged

in the work. Now I saw the lines flying out of the boat at a rapid

rate, as the animal sounded; now the men in the boats hauled it in

again, as the whale rose once more to the surface; now they pulled on,

and two more deadly harpoons were plunged into its sides, with several

spears; now they backed to avoid the lashing strokes of its powerful

tail; now the creature was seen to be in its death-flurry, tumbling

about and turning over and over in its agony. At length it lay an inert

mass on the surface, and the boats came back, towing it in triumph.

Next there was the work of "cutting in," or taking off the blubber which

surrounded it; the huge body being turned round and round during the

operation, as the men stood on it cutting off with their sharp spades

huge strips, which were hoisted with tackles on deck. Last of all came

the "trying out," when the blubber, cut into pieces, was thrown into

huge caldrons on deck, with a fire beneath them; the crisp pieces, from

which the oil had been extracted, serving as fuel. It was a curious

scene when night came on, and fires blazed up along the deck, surrounded

by the crew, begrimed with oil and smoke, looking like beings of another

world engaged in some fearful incantation.

This scene was repeated over and over again. We visited several islands

in the Pacific. At some, where Christian missionaries had been at work,

the inhabitants showed by their conduct that they were worthy of

confidence; but at others the captain deemed it necessary to be

constantly on his guard, lest they might attempt to cut off the crew and

take possession of the ship, as we heard had frequently occurred.

At length, to my delight and that of all the crew, the last cask we had

on board was filled with oil, and with a deeply-laden ship we commenced

our homeward voyage. We encountered a heavy gale going round the Horn,

but the old _Juno_ weathered it bravely, though, as she strained a good

deal, we had afterwards to keep the pumps going for an hour or so during

each watch. We, however, made our way at a fair rate northward, and

once more crossed the line.

It may seem surprising that I had not hitherto examined the metal case

which old Tom had committed to my charge. The box itself I had resolved

not to open. I did not suppose that I should be induced to act as he

had done, but yet I thought it wiser not to run the risk of temptation.

We for several days lay becalmed, and one evening, while the crew were

lying about the decks overcome with the heat, I stowed myself away

for'ard, at a distance from the rest, and drew the paper out of the

case. Great was my surprise to find that it was addressed to my own

father. It contained a reference to the parchment in the box, and gave

a list both of the jewels, the notes, and gold. The writer spoke of his

wife and infant son, and charged my father, should any accident happen

to him, to act as their guardian and friend as well as their legal

adviser. The letter was signed "Clement Leslie."

"This is strange," I thought. "Then there can be no doubt that little

Clem is the very child old Tom saw placed in his nurse's arms on the

raft, and his poor mother must have been washed away when the ship went

down. Those Indian nurses, I have often heard, will sacrifice their own

lives for the sake of preserving the children committed to their charge,

and Clem's nurse must have held him fast in her arms, in spite of the

buffeting of the waves and the tossing of the raft during that dreadful

night when the Indiaman went down; and if she had any food, I dare say

she gave it to him rather than eat it herself. But, poor fellow, what

may have happened to him since we parted."

I now felt more anxious than ever to reach home, and longed for the

breeze to spring up which might carry us forward through the calm

latitudes. It came at last, and the _Juno_ again made rapid progress

homeward. We were bound up the Irish Channel to Liverpool; when,

however, we got within about a week's sail of the chops of the Channel,

it came on to blow very hard. The leaks increased, and we were now

compelled to keep the pumps going during nearly the whole of each watch.

The weather was very thick, too, and no observations could be taken.

The crew were almost worn out; yet there was no time for rest. The gale

was blowing from the south-west, and the sea running very high, when in

the middle watch the look-out shouted the startling cry of "Land! on the

starboard bow." The yards were at once braced sharply up, and soon

afterwards the captain ordered the ship to be put about. We were

carrying almost more canvas than she could bear, but yet it would not

then do to shorten sail. Just as the ship was in stays, a tremendous

squall struck her, and in an instant the three masts went by the board.

There we lay on a lee shore, without a possibility of getting off it.

The order was at once given to range the cables, that immediately the

water was sufficiently shallow to allow of it we might anchor.

I will not describe that dreadful night. Onward the ship drove towards

the unknown shore. We had too much reason to dread that it was the

western coast of Ireland, fringed by reefs and rugged rocks. As we

drove on it grew more and more fearfully distinct. We fired guns of

distress, in the faint hope that assistance might be sent to us; but no

answering signal came. Too soon the roar of the surf reached our ears,

and it became fearfully probable that the ship and her rich cargo, with

all on board, would become the prey of the waves. I secured the

precious box and case as usual, determined, if I could save my own life,

to preserve them. The lead was continually hove, and at last the

captain ordered the anchors to be let go. They held the ship but for a

few minutes; then a tremendous sea struck her, and sweeping over her

deck, they parted, and again onward she drove. A few minutes more only

elapsed before she struck the rocks, and the crashing and rending sounds

of her timbers warned us that before long she would be dashed into a

thousand fragments. The sea was breaking furiously over the wreck, and

now one, now another of the crew was washed away. I was clinging with

others to a part of the bulwarks, when I felt them loosening beneath us.

Another sea came, and we were borne forward towards the shore. For an

instant I was beneath the boiling surf; when I rose again my companions

were gone, and in a few seconds I found myself dashed against a rock. I

clung to it for my life, then scrambled on, my only thought being to get

away from the raging waters. I succeeded at length in scrambling out of

their reach, and lay down on a dry ledge to rest. I must have dropped

to sleep or fainted from fatigue. When I came to myself, the sun was

up, and I heard voices below me. The tide had fallen, and numbers of

country people were scrambling along the rocks, and picking up whatever

was thrown on shore. I managed to get on my feet and wave to them.

Several came up to me, and the tones of their voices showed me at once

that they were Irish.

Out of the whole crew, I was the only person who had been saved, and I

was very doubtful how I might be treated. However, I wronged them. It

was a matter of dispute among several who should take charge of me; and

at length a young woman, whose cottage was not far off, carried me up to

it. She and her husband gave me the best of everything they had; that

is to say, as many potatoes and as much buttermilk and bacon as I could

swallow. I was so eager to get home that, after a night's rest, I told

them I wished to start on my journey. I was, I knew, on the west of

Ireland, and I hoped that, if I could manage to get to Cork, I might

from thence find means of crossing to England. Though my host had no

money to give me, he agreed to drive me twenty miles on the way,

promising to find a friend who would pass me on; and his wife pressed on

me a change of linen, and a few other articles in a bundle. With these

I started on my long journey.

I was not disappointed, for when I told my story I was fully believed,

and I often got help where I least expected it.

At length I reached Cork, where I found a vessel just sailing for

Liverpool. The captain agreed to give me a free passage, and at last I

safely landed on the shores of old England. I must confess that I had

more difficulty after this in making my way homeward, and by the time I

reached the neighbourhood of my father's house my outer clothing, at all

events, was pretty well worn to rags and tatters.

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