We crossed the line in 24 west longitude, running close to the St. Paul's
Rocks. These strange peaks to the southward of the equator caused some
interest aboard, rising as they do out of the middle of the ocean a mile
or more in depth.
The air was hot and muggy the day we crossed into the northern
hemisphere, and the light breeze died away again, leaving the ship with
her courses clewed up, rolling and wallowing uneasily in the swell.
Jackwell, as I must always call him now, spruced himself up better than
usual, and paid more attention to the ladies. He avoided me at every
opportunity; but as neither Chips nor myself ever alluded to the story
we had heard from Jim, his courage rose, and he became more familiar
with the men.
Up to this time, we had not sighted a single sail since the _Sovereign_;
but here on the line, where the fleets of the maritime world congregate
to pick up the north or southeast trades, we sighted many ships bound
both out and in.
One of these that happened near us was the _Shark_, whaling brig of three
hundred tons, commanded by Captain Henry,--a man who had sailed in
American ships engaged in the deep-water trade for years before he had
taken to whaling. This vessel signalled us; and when we had answered and
found out who our neighbor was, we were invited aboard.
Jackwell was willing to go with the ladies, as he thought it might prove
a diversion. There was no chance for a breeze, and the ships were within
half a mile of each other, with a smooth sea between. He insisted,
however, that I go along to command the boat.
Chips and I had from the first decided to try and get a peep at the
captain's trunk, and this might prove our chance. Gunning's tale of its
great weight gave rise to many high thoughts; and if it were gold, much
might be hoped for if we landed our man when we made port.
A few words with the carpenter was enough, and then I got the men at work
hoisting out the boat. I found time to try and persuade Trunnell to take
my place in the small craft, but he was firm. It would never do, he said,
to leave the ship without a high officer aboard. "There's no telling,
Rolling, just what might happen in this world while a feller is on the
deep sea. No, sir; go ahead and enjoy yourself. There's a-goin' to be
some line jokes, I reckon, aboard that brig. If the skipper ain't been
acrost before, he'll be liable to catch the fun as well as the rest, but
he don't know nothin' about sech things."
I was a little suspicious at Trunnell's determination to stay aboard,
especially when I found out he knew the captain of the whaler very well.
However, I had the small boat hoisted out and made ready for the
passengers. This time there was a compass and water breaker aboard, and a
foghorn in the stern sheets in case of need.
Mrs. Sackett was helped into the small craft, and her daughter followed,
both women looking brighter than at any time during the cruise. Mrs.
Sackett was not a bad-looking woman at any time, being of about the
medium height, with a smooth complexion, and her figure finely
proportioned. Her daughter seated herself beside her in the stern, and
Jackwell climbed over the rail.
He was dressed in a very fine suit of clothes, his shirt-front white,
and his waxed mustache curled fiercely. His glinting eyes had a
somewhat humorous expression, I thought, and he appeared very well
pleased with himself.
Trunnell came to the rail and leaned over. "Good luck to ye," he cried.
"We'll expect ye back to dinner."
"Keep an eye on my room, and don't let the steward disturb the charts on
my trunk until I come back. The last sight is worked out on the one lying
on the table," replied Jackwell.
Then the oars fell across, and we shot out over the smooth ocean to the
brig that rolled lazily half a mile distant.
The skipper appeared in a most humorous mood, which increased as did the
distance between the ships.
He talked to Mrs. Sackett incessantly and actually had that lady laughing
happily at his remarks. Miss Sackett did not rise to his humor, however,
and her mother noticed it.
"Jennie, dear, why don't you laugh? Captain Thompson is so funny," she
said.
"I will when he gets off a good joke, mother."
"Get off a good joke?" echoed the skipper. "Well, that's what I call
hard. A good joke? Why, my dear child, I've gotten off the joke of my
life to-day. Sink me, if I ain't played the best joke of the year, and on
Trunnell too, at that. A good joke? ha, ha, hah!" and he threw his head
back and laughed so loud and long that his mirth was infectious, and I
even found myself smiling at him.
"Tell us what it is," said Miss Jennie.
"Oh, ho, ho, tell you what it is," laughed Jackwell, and his nose worked
up and down so rapidly that I marvelled at it. His glinting eyes were
almost closed and his face was red with exertion. "And suppose I'd tell
you what it is, Miss Sackett? You wouldn't laugh. Not you. You couldn't
rise to the occasion like your mamma. No, sink me, if I told you what it
was, you wouldn't laugh; so you'll all have to wait till you get back
aboard to hear it. But it's a good one, no fear."
We were now almost alongside of the brig, and could see her captain at
the gangway, waiting to receive us. All along the rail strange faces
peeped over at us.
"Way enough," cried Jackwell, and the oars were shipped. The boat
swept alongside, and a ladder was lowered for us. I climbed out first
to be able to assist the ladies, and as I gained the deck I was
greeted by a strongly built, bearded man who looked at me keenly out
of clear blue eyes.
"I'm glad to see you, sir," said he, holding out his hand.
I shook hands and turned to help Mrs. Sackett over the rail. Then came
Miss Jennie, and last of all our captain.
Jackwell sprang up the ladder quickly, and stood in the gangway.
"How are you, sir, Captain Thomp--"
Captain Henry checked himself, looking at our skipper as though he had
seen a ghost.
"Why, Jack--"
But Jackwell had put up his hand, smiling pleasantly.
"Jack it is, old man. You haven't forgotten the time I picked you up on
the beach, have you?" he said, laughing. "Mrs. Sackett," he cried,
turning, "allow me to introduce my friend, Captain Henry. Miss Sackett,
also. Here's a skipper who hasn't forgotten the day I pulled him out of
the water on the coast of South Wales, where he was wrecked. Sink me, but
it's a blessing to see gratitude," he cried again, laughing heartily.
"Fancy one skipper pulling another out of the sea, hey? Can you do that?"
"Well, I want to know," replied Henry. "I never knew you was a--"
"You never knew what, old man? What is it ye never knew? Sink me, it
would fill every barrel you have below, hey? wouldn't it? What you never
knew, nor never will know, would fill your little ship so full she'd
sink, Henry, or I'm a soger. Ha, ha, hah! my boy; I don't mean to cast no
insinuations at you, but that's a fact, ain't it? But what the dickens
have you got going on aboard?"
He turned and gazed at the brig's main deck, where tubs of water and
soapsuds were being poured into the trying-out kettles built in the
brig's waist.
"Why," said Henry, "since you are a sea-capting, you must know the lay of
it. Hain't you never crossed the line in a sailin' ship before?"
He had apparently recovered himself, and the surprise at meeting an old
acquaintance appeared to give him pleasure.
Taking Mrs. Sackett by the hand, he led her aft up the poop steps,
Jackwell following, keeping up a continual talk about whales and
whaling skippers. Jennie and I followed behind and examined the brig's
strange outfit.
The first mate, a man of middle age, lean and gaunt, came forward and
introduced himself. He had sailed in every kind of ship, and was now
whaling, he declared, for the last time. As I had made several "last
voyages" myself, I knew that he meant simply to show involuntarily that
he was a confirmed sailor of the most pronounced sort.
He showed us the lines and irons, the cutting-in outfit, and the kettles
and furnace for boiling down the blubber. We followed him about, and I
expressed my thanks when we arrived at the poop again, where he left us.
Jennie was not interested, and the fact was not lost upon the old fellow,
who turned away to join his mates at the kettles.
"Do you know, Mr. Rolling, I don't care a rap for ships," said she. "They
don't interest me any more, and I don't think they are the place for
women, anyhow."
"It would be mighty lonesome for some men if they acted on that idea and
kept out of them," I answered.
We were all alone by the mizzen, the captains having gone below with Mrs.
Sackett to show her the interior of the ship.
The young girl looked up, and I fancied there was just a sparkle of
amusement in her eyes.
"Do you really think so?" she said. "Can't men find more useful
occupations than following the sea,--that is, those who are lonely?"
"Some men are fitted to do certain things in this world and unfitted for
others. It would be hard on those whose lines are laid out like that for
them. You don't think a man follows the sea after his first voyage
because he likes it, do you?" I said.
"Then for Heaven's sake why don't they stay ashore?" she demanded.
"Would you care for a man who would stay out of a thing that he was
fitted for, simply because it was hard?" I asked her.
She blushed and turned away.
"I was not speaking of caring for any one, Mr. Rolling," she replied.
And then she added quickly, "I think we will go below and see what they
have for us."
"No, wait just one minute, Jennie," I said, taking her hand and stopping
her gently without attracting the attention of the men forward. "This is
the first time we've had a chance to talk of ourselves in two months. I
want to ask you if you really meant that?"
"Meant what?" she said, stopping and turning around, facing me squarely.
"That you didn't care for any one?" I stammered, and I remember how my
face burned.
She let me hold her hand and looked up into my eyes.
"I never said any such thing--that I didn't care for any one," she
replied.
"Then do you, Jennie?"
She made no answer, and let her eyes fall. I let go her hand and drew
myself up, for I was uncertain.
"I say, Rolling, what the deuce are you two doing?" bawled the voice of
Jackwell from the companion, and then I realized that there was little
privacy aboard a ship of three hundred tons.
We went aft guiltily, and met the rest coming up the companion with
bottled beer and sandwiches which were served as refreshments. Chairs
were set out by the old mate and two harpooners who had come aft, and the
cook spruced himself up to get us out a plum-duff for lunch. From where
we sat behind the poop rise, nothing could be seen forward, and here we
ate and drank while Jackwell laughed and talked incessantly, being a
completely changed man from the sarcastic and somewhat truculent skipper
I had known for the last three months. It was finally suggested that as
the awning was stretched, the plum-duff could be served on deck better
than below in the stuffy cabin, so here we enjoyed the meal.