A STRANGE MESSAGE
The boys actually had tumbled into camp from the hill behind the shack,
and they joined heartily in the laughter of the men, when they related
their story of being lost in the fog.
“Shure, an’ Oi wuz a-sayin’ to Misther Potter that maybe yez was lost,”
Mike affirmed, “an’ twas meself what wuz for goin’ afther yez if yez
didn’t turrn up soon.”
“Gid out!” jeered Cap’n Pem. “Ye’d be a fine one ter go gawallupin’ over
these ’ere hills with that there wooden lig o’ yourn. Know’d the boys
’ud git in ship-shape.”
“B’gorra thin, Oi could do as well as yez at anny rate,” insisted Mike.
Cap’n Pem snorted, but forbore a retort and warned the boys against
taking any risks in the future.
“Don’t ye never go off without a-takin’ a gun an’ a compass,” he
commanded them. “An’ ef ye go out o’ sight o’ camp, mind ye watch the
way ye’re a-goin’ of. ’Tain’t no jokin’ matter ter git lost here. It’s a
heap bigger islan’ than ye think an’ fog’s li’ble ter come on any time.”
When the boys told of their experience with the big seal-like creatures,
Cap’n Pem laughed uproariously.
“Them’s sea leopards,” he told them. “Lucky ye didn’t git too clost,
they ain’t like these ’ere elephants. Bite ye quicker’n Jack Robinson,
’bout as fierce as a lion an’ mighty touchy too.”
“Aren’t they good for anything?” asked Tom. “Do you ever kill them?”
“Hides is wuth somethin’,” replied the old man, “but ain’t got enough
blubber ter make ’em wuth the danger o’ killin’ of ’em. Time was, when we
used fer to hunt ’em an’ fur seals, too. But ’ain’t nothin’ in it now,
with elephant ’ile so high.”
Cap’n Pem also explained that the big penguins they had seen were King
Penguins and that the moonstones, though pretty, had little value.
“Whole beaches on ’em over ter Kerguelan,” he told them. “Took up derned
nigh a bucket full on ’em one trip. Couldn’t sell ’em fer ’nough ter
keep me in terbaccy. Guv ’em all ter the wimmin folks.”
Boiling was going on when the boys reached camp, and after eating, for
they were ravenously hungry, they watched the operation for some time
and then made their way towards the spot where the men were stripping
the blubber from the last of the dead elephants. Everywhere, the
enormous raw carcasses were scattered about, and, almost hiding them
from sight, were thousands of albatrosses, Molly Mokes and other sea
birds, screaming and quarreling over the feast and tearing the flesh
from the bones with their powerful bills. So bold were the birds that
they frequently swooped down and attempted to carry off pieces of
blubber under the noses of the working men and one man constantly was
kept busy shooing and beating them off.
“Wouldn’t they clear out if you shot some of them?” inquired Tom.
“Yep, I expect they would,” replied a boat steerer, “but we need ’em an’
don’t want to drive away. What’d we do with all them there dead
elephants if ’twan’t fer them birds? Why, they’d smell so ye couldn’t
live on the islan’, an’ a breedin’ plague.”
“Do you mean the birds will eat them all up?” asked Jim in surprise.
“Sure thing,” declared the sailor, “less’an a couple o’ days there won’t
be nothin’ but bones left.”
The boys could scarcely believe that the birds could completely devour
the mountains of flesh before them, but long before the expiration of
the two days only the clean picked bones of the elephants marked the
scene of their slaughter.
As it was light through the night, the work of boiling was carried on
unceasingly, the men working in watches or shifts, as on board ship, and
by the second day they were ready for another drive and kill.
Although practically all the large elephants had been slaughtered the
first day, yet there seemed to be no decrease in the numbers which came
up the seashore daily, and the second killing was even larger than the
first. Cap’n Pem and the men were elated, for the great number of
elephants argued well for a full cargo of oil, and the old whaleman
couldn’t say enough in praise of the policy of the British government in
having restricted the killing and extermination of the creatures.
“Las’ time I was here,” he informed them, “they’d got so pesky skeerce
ye couldn’t make a kill o’ a dozen a week an’ now look at ’em. Jes’ a
crowdin’ o’ thersel’s up, a-waitin’ ter be killed. Looks like as though
they ac’t’ally enj’yed it.”
Not forgetting Cap’n Pem’s injunction regarding gun and compass, and
usually carrying a lunch with them, the boys spent their days wandering
over the hills, exploring the island, gathering eggs from the more
remote bird colonies, so as not to frighten away the scavengers near
camp, and having a glorious time by themselves. They had discovered
several small ponds among the more distant hills and here, to their
surprise, they found a number of small teal-like ducks. These proved
excellent eating and a most welcome change in the camp diet and the boys
made almost daily visits to the place. On another occasion, they had
found a rookery of the Antarctic fur seals and spent hours watching the
big, gentle-eyed creatures frolicking and playing about. Twice too, they
had clambered far up the mountain side and had gazed forth upon the vast
panorama that was stretched beneath them. Rugged and gray, their own
island spread itself below their feet, and on the horizon—some visible
across lanes of gray sea that from the height seemed narrow, others but
hazy clouds against the sky and others only distinguishable by their
lofty peaks—were many other islands of the group. The boys, who had
spent hours poring over charts of the Antarctic, knew many of them by
name, such as Governor Livingston, Scotts, Clarence and Deception. The
latter was the island to which the _Hector_ had gone and the boys spent
much time in speculation as to the success the men were having there and
how soon the bark would return.
But best of all, the boys loved to visit the rookeries of albatrosses,
penguins and Molly Mokes that by now were filled with ungainly,
grotesque and mirth-provoking fledglings.
It was while they were on their way to one of these, several weeks after
their adventure in the fog, that the boys saw a big Wandering Albatross
acting in a most peculiar and unusual manner. The bird was standing upon
a pile of rocks and was spreading and flapping his enormous wings as if
trying to fly, but he would rise only a few feet above the ground before
he again dropped back. Then he would reach down, peck at something in
the rocks as though feeding, and again flap into the air for a short
distance again to repeat the whole performance.
“What _do_ you suppose he’s doing?” asked Tom in puzzled tones. “He acts
as if he’d found something and couldn’t make up his mind to leave it.”
“Come along and see,” suggested Jim, and curious to know the reason for
the big bird’s actions, the two turned aside and clambered over the
rock-strewn hillside towards the albatross.
Much to the boys’ surprise, he apparently paid little heed to their
approach, but continued his remarkable behavior until they were within a
few yards. Then, to their amazement, they saw that the bird was fastened
to the rocks by a piece of rope or line.
“Why, he’s tied down!” exclaimed Jim. “I wonder who did that.”
“I can’t imagine,” replied Tom. “But it’s a shame! He’ll just beat
himself to pieces, or die of thirst and starvation. Come on, let’s untie
him.”
But to release the bird was more of an undertaking than they bargained
for. Every time the boys tried to approach, he would strike viciously
with his enormously powerful wings, hiss like a gigantic snake and lunge
savage, snapping thrusts with his strong, hooked beak.
“Gee, he _is_ ugly!” cried Tom. “I’ve half a mind to leave him.”
But having once determined to free the bird, the two were not to be
worsted so easily. Taking off their coats, and with Tom holding his
sheath-knife ready, the two boys made a sudden dash at the albatross,
and while Jim threw his jacket around the bird’s head and held his neck,
Tom protected his head from the blows of the wings, and stooping
quickly, cut the line. Then, leaping back, they watched the great bird
as he flapped upwards with cries of triumph and sailed off out of sight.
“Ungrateful old brute!” laughed Jim. “Acts as tickled as if he’d got
loose all by himself.”
“I wonder what he was tied to,” put in Tom. “Hello! Look here, Jim!”
Reaching down in a crevice of the rocks, Tom drew out a bundle, or roll
of frayed and weather-beaten tarred canvas attached to the stout, hemp
lead-line which had bound the albatross.
“Well, that beats all!” exclaimed Jim as the two boys examined the
package curiously. “It must have been tied to the bird’s leg and got
wedged between the rocks when he alighted. What _do_ you suppose it is!”
“Search me!” replied the other. “Let’s open it and see.”
Drawing his knife, Tom proceeded to slash through the rope that was
wrapped and tied about the bundle and then commenced to rip out the
tightly drawn stitches with which it was sewn.
“Whoever sewed this didn’t intend it to get away in a hurry,” he
remarked as the first layer of heavy canvas fell back and disclosed
another beneath it.
“Reminds me of the pill-boxes the druggists have,” supplied Jim. “Just
one inside of another right down to a tiny one. Perhaps that’s all this
is.”
“Nobody’d take the trouble to sew it all up and tie it to a bird’s leg
unless ’twas something important,” declared Tom decisively. “I’ll bet
there’s something mighty interesting in it.”
Two more layers of canvas were removed, and as the last was pulled away,
the boys saw a brass tube, or cylindrical box, with both ends stopped
with wood.
“That’s a funny looking thing,” commented Tom as he turned it about.
“Looks like a—gee, I know what ’tis! It’s part of a telescope.”
“Perhaps there’s something in it,” Jim suggested excitedly. “Open it and
see.”
After some difficulty, Tom pried out one of the wooden plugs and tipped
up the cylinder, but nothing dropped out. Then, as he peered within it,
he cried out, “Gosh! There _is_ something in there.”
Inserting his finger in the tube, while the nerves of both boys tingled
with expectancy, Tom drew out a roll of some crinkled, whitish-yellow
material which they thought, at first, was paper.
“Hurrah! It’s a message!” shouted Jim. “Gee, we’re in luck!”
Spreading the parchment on a smooth rock, the two boys studied the
indistinct characters upon it, but for some time could make nothing of
them. Gradually, however, they began to recognize letters, and slowly
and with much hesitation and difficulty spelled out the following:
“Two hoo shal fine these leter for God sak save mee. iam reckt on a
illan west off elyfant illan in the soth shetlans yu kan tel the won
by too piks stikin up on the eas end i am seemans off the brig _ellen_
of st Helena we was kroosin an see a worship she was a gurman an sink
us an fir on the botes i was hit an wen i cum two i seen nothin I
drifted a long tyme an most starf an dye of thurst wen I seen lan i no
it was the soth shetlans cuss i bin theyre bfour too kil elyfonts mi
bot drift one these ilant an I find a ole hut I bin her long tym an I
am sik mi wun want heel i muss dy if non resku me I amm goin two ty
this to a allybtros whut i haf cot mae god dyrect it too sum crishun
an knot two a hun. yurs respekfuli
“Sam Holt
“p. S. i think this is disemper but I do not sur i los trak ov tym
wile i byn sik.”
For an instant, the two boys sat speechless, absolutely dumbfounded at
the story disclosed by the parchment so miraculously secured.
“Gosh, he’s right near here!” cried Tom, at last. “Say, we’ve got to
hustle down and tell Cap’n Pem. Perhaps we can rescue him!”
Dashing as fast as they could over the rough ground, risking broken
bones and bruises, forgetting all except to tell the old whaleman of
their discovery, the two boys jumped, leaped, scrambled and ran, until,
breathless and exhausted, they rushed into camp and hurled themselves on
the old man.
“Gosh all mackerel!” ejaculated Cap’n Pem. “What’n tarnation’s up now?
Seed a ghos’?”
“Oh, Cap’n Pem!” panted Tom. “We found a message—a letter—there’s a
man—shipwrecked—on an island.”
“West of here!” Jim went on as Tom paused for breath. “See, here’s the
message—found it on an albatross. Can’t we save him?”
“What?” ejaculated Cap’n Pem, while a number of the men gathered about
attracted by the boys’ excitement. “What’s that ye’re a-sayin’? Man
shipwrecked? Found a message on a albatross, eh? Blow me ef ’tisn’t!”
Then, having recovered themselves, the two boys rapidly told their
story, while the old whaleman studied the message.
“B’gosh!” exclaimed Mike, “’tis a missage all right, all right. Shure,
b’ys, we’ll be afther a rescuin’ av him.”
“Derned if we won’t!” cried Pem. “Nobody can’t say as any Yankee
whaleman ever lef’ a shipwracked mate fer to die ’slong’s he could help
it. Dern them Germans’ hides! Wisht I could git at ’em! Here you, Mike,
call all han’s! I’m a-goin’ fer to ask fer volunteers. An’ git the boat
ready fer the v’yge. Stow away ’nough grub an’ water fer a week an’
med’cines an’ grog, an’ clo’s an’ blankets. Like as not thet there
feller ain’t got none.”
Then, as Mike stumped off to carry out his orders, Pem bustled about,
giving directions, leaving orders as to work to be done while the boat
was away, and between times, cursing the Germans with quaint oaths.
“Reckon like as not he’s died long ago,” he muttered half to himself.
“No knowin’ when he writ thet letter.”
“But it says December,” Tom reminded him. “And this is only the second
week.”
“Yep, I knows it,” replied the whaleman. “But he says he ain’t no ways
sure an he don’ say _what_ December. Like as not ’twas las’ year or year
afore. ’Spect we’ll have all our trouble fer nothin’.”
Then, addressing the men who had gathered about, Cap’n Pem told the
story of the boys’ find in a few terse words and called for volunteers
to make the trip. Every hand went up instantly.
“Bile me ef I didn’t know ’twould be thet way!” cried the mate. “Might
as well saved myself the trouble. Got to pick ye out, anyway!”
Hurriedly running his eyes over the men, he picked four of the strongest
and best, and all men from New Bedford. Then, after a moment’s
hesitation, he turned to the one-eyed man, Ned.
“Here, you!” he snapped out. “You’ve been a sojer. Know anythin’ ’bout
doctorin’?”
“Yes, sir, a little, sir,” replied Ned respectfully. “I was in the field
hospital over there, for a time, sir.”
“Thought so!” ejaculated the mate. “All right, come on, men, git a move
on!”
“But can’t we go?” cried Tom.
“Nope, no place fer youngsters.” Then, as he noticed the crestfallen
look on the boys’ faces, he suddenly relented.
“Oh, blow me! All right!” he burst out. “Hadn’t been fer ye we wouldn’t
a-been a-goin’. Reckon ye gotta right ter go. Come along!”
To the accompaniment of lusty cheers from the men, the boat was pushed
off, the five oars took the water, and with a “Give way boys!” from
Cap’n Pem, the rescuers headed for the open sea. Straining at their oars
as though they were going on a whale, the men fairly lifted the speedy
whaleboat through the water, while, in the stern, Cap’n Pem stood
grasping the huge steering oar and ever and anon urging his crew to even
greater efforts. Rapidly the beach was left behind, and swinging the
boat to the westward and rounding a projecting, rocky point, the old
whaleman steered a course for the hazy outlines of a distant island.
“Reckon thet’s the one,” he remarked. “’Pears to me I recollec’ them
there needles. Used ter call ’em the donkey’s ears.”
For hour after hour the boat sped on. Elephant Island grew dim in the
distance and more and more distinct became the island ahead. Gradually,
from the mist it took form and shape. The boys could see the rugged,
central volcanic cone; little by little the lower slopes became visible,
and at last, Tom gave a shout of joy, for looming up from the sea at one
end of the island were two steep-sided, conical peaks.
“Thar she be!” announced old Pem. “Give way, lads! If that poor lad’s a
livin’ he’ll likely be a sightin’ of us purty quick.”
Half an hour later, the island loomed close ahead and the boys strained
their eyes in an effort to make out the hut in which the castaway had
lived. But not until they were within half a mile of the shore did they
see it; a little, tumble-down shanty of gray, weather-beaten boards and
ragged flapping sail-cloth tucked into a corner of the rocks and so
nearly like them in color that it was scarcely distinguishable. But
search the beach and rocks as they would, they could see no sign of
life, and their spirits fell, for all began to fear that they had
arrived too late, that the bleaching bones of the wounded castaway would
be all that they would find. Running their boat upon the shingle, the
crew leaped out, and led by Cap’n Pem, hurried towards the house,
hallooing as they went. Then, when within a score of paces from the hut,
a crazy, makeshift door swung open and a man stepped forth. And at sight
of him, every one stopped short and gazed in amazement. The man was a
gray-headed, coal-black negro with a wooden leg!
“I’ll be everlastin’ly dumbswizzled!” burst out Cap’n Pem. “Derned ef we
ain’t shipped another peg-leg!”
The next instant the old negro rushed forward and threw himself upon the
beach groveling at Pem’s feet.
“Hi, there! Git up!” cried the whaleman. “We ain’t no Saints! Jes’
o’nary whalemen. How be ye anyhow? Reckon we’re in time, eh? Feared we’d
fin’ ye dead an’ gone.”
With tears of emotion trickling over his emaciated, ebon cheeks, and
with wildly rolling eyes and in broken tones, the negro poured out
incoherent thanks and blessings and was so overcome that two of the men
were obliged to carry him bodily into the shack. Here, on an improvised
couch of moss, dried seaweed and bird skins the castaway was placed, and
Cap’n Pem hurriedly poured a stiff draft of whiskey down his throat
while Ned and the men quickly kindled a fire and proceeded to heat
coffee and tinned soup. Between the liquor and the steaming food the old
negro quickly revived and managed to control his emotions somewhat.
Cap’n Pem told him how they had learned of his plight, but by Ned’s
command he was not permitted to talk; although all were filled with
curiosity to learn his story, and the castaway was compelled to content
himself with muttering, “Thank de Lord A’mighty! De Lord shure does
watch over his pore sinners! Oh, Lor’ _is_ I save’ at las’!”
“Doc,” Ned, as the men called him, declared that the castaway was in no
condition to be moved and that he must have several days of rest and
good feeding before undertaking the trip in the open boat. The wound of
which he had spoken in his message, had partly healed, but he was very
weak from suffering and lack of food and now that he was rescued he
seemed quite content to lie still and be nursed back to health and
strength. Gradually too, he told them of his life upon the island: how
he had managed to eke out a living by catching crabs and shellfish, and
later on by albatross and penguin eggs; and how he had captured the
albatross and had utilized a broken telescope which he had found in the
hut as a box or container for the message.
“How did you happen to think of sending the message that way, Sam?”
asked Tom. “There wasn’t one chance in a million that any one would find
it.”
“I seed a ship a-sailin’ away fra El’funt Islan’,” replied the negro,
“an’ I knows as how she must’a’ lef’ men there an’ I knows as how these
albatrosses do smell dead meat for a pow’ful long ways, an’ I thinks
like as not if you was a-killin’ the el’funts this ol’ bird mought go
over yander for de food an’ some man mought see the canvas a-danglin’
from he laig an’ cotch he; an’ praise the Lord A’mighty, you did.”
Cap’n Pem was anxious to return to the camp as soon as possible and
fumed and grumbled, although “Doc” Ned declared that three days should
be enough rest for Sam with the good care he was receiving. But when the
third day came, a gale was blowing and lashing the sea to fury and
departure was impossible.
“Ding-bust the weather!” exploded Cap’n Pem, when on the next day, the
gale still howled about the shack and cold rain and sleet beat like
shrapnel on its roof. “Didn’t I tell ye we’d have bad luck,—arter that
there bo’sun bird come aboard! Wouldn’t be s’prised ef this ’ere
dumfoozled sto’m lasted all summer. Reckon we’ll be shipwracked oursel’s
here!”
“But we haven’t had bad luck,” Jim reminded him. “_I_ think we’ve had
mighty good luck, to get that message and save Sam.”
“Hadn’t begun, then,” contended the whaleman. “Got ter have a beginnin’
sometime. Bet ye we gets wuss an’ wusser from now on.”
But despite Cap’n Pem’s dismal forebodings, the next day was fine, the
gale had blown itself out, and while the seas still ran mountain high,
they were rapidly decreasing. Two days later Cap’n Pem declared the sea
had moderated enough to set out and with one of the men helping Sam—for
he was still weak—the party launched the boat and headed for Elephant
Island. It was hard pulling against the head sea and as there was no
favorable wind, the sail could not be used and the men strained and
sweated at their heavy oars. But gradually the little island faded into
the distance and each moment Elephant Island loomed nearer and plainer
ahead. At last they gained the lee of the land, and keeping close
inshore, pulled towards the outstanding cliffs which concealed the
harbor. As the boat came abreast of the point the spars of a ship came
suddenly into view.
“Hurrah! The _Hector’s_ back!” cried Tom.
“Derned if she is!” exclaimed Cap’n Pem. “That’s a brig. I’ll—” but his
sentence was never finished. From the direction of the shore came the
sounds of a volley of gun shots.
“What’n tarnation,” roared the old whaleman. “Give way, lads! Lift her!
Fightin’s broke loose yonder!”