THE BOYS MAKE A DISCOVERY
Day after day, the wind held fair and steady, and the gallant, old bark
hurled herself through the hissing seas as though she knew she was
homeward bound and as anxious to see New Bedford light as were the men.
The second day after the storm, sail after sail had been piled onto her
and even her stunsails had been set, for the captain’s last hope of
making the cruise a success lay in securing sperm whales, and he drove
his ship at her utmost in order to reach the tropics and the sperm whale
grounds as soon as possible.
In order to obtain fresh supplies, the _Hector_ again put into Tristan
da Cunha and the boys received a rousing welcome from Paul and Getty.
When the story of their adventures on Elephant Island was told, the
Potter boys thought Tom and Jim the two luckiest fellows in the world,
and they roared with merriment over Mike’s amazement at seeing Sam and
finding him a negro with a wooden leg. But they were just as firm in
their belief that the bo’sun bird was responsible for the ship’s bad
luck as were Pem and Mike, while their grandfather prophesied that, in
his opinion, the bark’s troubles were not yet over.
“Boun’ to be a death in the bark’s comp’ny,” he declared. “Never knowed
it to fail. Jes’ as soon as that happens the curse’ll be off.”
“Well, there’ve been plenty of chances to have a death,” Tom reminded
him, “and yet there hasn’t been. Seems to me, if the bird wanted any one
to die he’s missed some awful good opportunities.”
“Mebbe,” admitted old Lem. “But ye never _can_ tell what fate has in
store fer sailors. I been to sea nigh fifty year an’ I _tell_ ye the
more ye see the less ye knows.”
But despite their superstitions, the islanders sympathized most heartily
with Captain Edwards and all wished him the best of luck and professed
confidence in his finding whales and filling up with sperm oil. When the
bark hoisted anchor and sailed from Tristan, one member of her company
was left behind, for Sam declared his intention of waiting on the island
for the yearly mail ship which would take him back to St. Helena.
Three days after the island had dropped below the horizon astern, the
lookout on the _Hector_ reported a steamer’s smoke ahead, and soon
afterwards, the smudge of black was visible to those on deck.
“Can’t imagine what she is,” declared Captain Edwards. “We’re out of the
track of merchant ships.”
“Maybe it’s a German raider,” suggested Jim. “Then Cap’n Pem _would_
crow over us for scoffing at the bo’sun bird.”
Scarcely had he spoken when Mr. Kemp hailed them from the crosstrees.
“Warship, sir!” he shouted.
“Gosh, perhaps you’re right, Jim!” exclaimed Tom. “Say, wouldn’t that be
the limit?”
“Jest erbout what I’d be expectin’ of,” declared Cap’n Pem. “Onluckiest
cruise ever I seed. Reckon I’ll stick ter shore arter this.”
“Better wait till you get there,” teased Jim. “If it’s a raider you may
be killed. Some one’s got to die, you know.”
“Shet up!” retorted the old whaleman petulantly. “Ain’t there ’nough
troubles without a talkin’ ’bout bein’ kilt?”
But all fears as to the identity of the approaching warship were put at
rest a moment later, when the second mate called down that she was
British and flying signals.
“Can you read them?” asked the skipper.
“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Kemp.
Slowly he read the flags and called them out, while below, Captain
Edwards ran his finger down the code book and, a moment later, with a
wild yell, he dashed down the book and seemed suddenly to have gone
raving mad.
Throwing his hat in the air, shouting and laughing, the usually staid
and dignified skipper danced and leaped about and capered like a
schoolboy. Then, leaping to the rail and steadying himself with a grip
on the shrouds, he yelled, “Whoop her up, boys, the war’s over! Three
cheers, my lads—three times three!” And as the good tidings dawned upon
them, the crew gave such rousing cheers that even those upon the warship
must have heard.
“Up with your ensign, Mr. Potter. Up with Old Glory and salute!” roared
the skipper. “And dress ship! Run up everything you can find!”
But already the boys had forestalled Cap’n Pem and before the old mate
could reach the flag-locker, Tom was bending the Stars and Stripes to
the halliards and a moment later it rose fluttering to the peak. Three
times he dipped it in salute to the trim British cruiser, and, an
instant later, the Union Jack dipped in return. Long ere the cruiser was
out of sight strings of gay bunting were fluttering up to the bark’s
mastheads and Captain Edwards ordered the _Hector_ hove-to.
“No more work to-day!” cried he, as the yards were swung and the light
sails furled. “Summon all hands and tell them it’s a holiday, Mr. Kemp.
Serve cigars from the after stores, and tell cook to get up the best
meal he’s ever cooked for the crew. Nothing’s too good for this day!”
Never had a more boisterous or uproarious day been spent at sea than
that which celebrated the close of the World War on the old _Hector_,
even though the Armistice had been signed two months previously.
A few days later, a whale was sighted and the spirits of every one rose
as three boats were lowered, Captain Edwards himself going in one. But
despite every effort, not one of the boats succeeded in getting near the
whale until after a long and heart-breaking chase. Then Cap’n Pem got
fast, but before the other boats could come near, the iron drew and the
thoroughly frightened whale disappeared. Crestfallen, the three boats
returned to the bark and once more, yards were squared and the _Hector_
plunged northwards on her course. Then followed day after day of light,
baffling winds and an oil-like sea upon which the _Hector_ rolled lazily
with canvas slatting idly against the masts and with barely enough
motion to give her steerage way.
Lolling upon the decks on the fourth day of the sweltering calm, the
boys were gazing idly at the lofty trucks as they slowly swung to and
fro across the cloudless sky, when Tom suddenly jerked himself upright
and stared fixedly at the fore royal yard.
“Gee, it is!” he ejaculated. “Look, Jim, isn’t that a bo’sun bird up on
the fore royal yard, close to the mast?”
Jim peered at the spot indicated and for a moment could see nothing.
Then a slight movement caught his eye and he made out the snowy plumage
and long tail feathers of the bird.
“You’re right!” he assured Tom. “It’s another bo’sun all right. Funny no
one else has seen it.”
“No one’s looked aloft,” replied Tom. “They’re all busy on deck and even
Cap’n Pem hasn’t bothered watching the sails, it’s been so calm.”
“Well, don’t let’s tell any one,” whispered Jim. “It’ll just make them
nervous.”
But the bird had no intention of not having his presence known, and
scarcely had Jim spoken when it uttered several harsh cries. Instantly,
every man’s eyes were turned to the royal yard and at that moment a
second bo’sun bird fluttered down and alighted beside the first. Almost
like a dirge, a deep, moaning sigh arose from the crew.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom. “That must mean twice as much bad luck to come
and three men to die. Cap’n Pem will be——”
“Thar she blows!” shouted the lookout, and instantly the harbingers of
misfortune were forgotten as the men rushed to their boats.
Within a mile of the motionless bark, two big sperm whales were swimming
lazily, now and then rolling on their sides, occasionally slapping their
enormous flukes against the water playfully and evidently utterly
oblivious of the enemies so near. Rapidly all four boats were lowered
and went speeding towards the whales, and ten minutes after they had
been sighted both of the creatures had irons in their sides and were
towing two boats each at express train speed. Directly away from the
_Hector_ they sped; one to the west and the other to the north, and in
an incredibly short space of time the boats were out of sight of the
deck. But the lookouts on the mastheads could still see them and
constantly reported their doings to Mike, who had charge of the ship.
“Skipper’s fin-up!” shouted a lookout presently. “Mister Potter’s
millin’! Now he’s sounded! Breached again! Going in! In his flurry!
Spoutin’ blood! Fin-up!”
“Hurrah, they’ve killed ’em both!” yelled the boys, who had been
watching from a point of vantage on the main royal yard. “Now who says
bo’sun birds are bad luck!”
“Faith Oi do,” replied Mike. “’Tis tin good moiles they be an’ wid
noight a-comin’ on. B’gorra, ’tis a foine fix we do be in wid the barrk
becalmed. Shure ’tis aither losin’ o’ the whales or av the ship for
thim, loike as not.”
Then, as if to prove the ridiculous superstition false, a breath of hot
wind stirred the Hector’s upper sails; another stronger puff filled the
topsails; the glassy sea broke into shimmering crinkled ripples, and ten
minutes later, the bark was gliding swiftly towards the distant boats
before a steady wind.
Just as the sun was sinking beyond the rim of the sea, the two whales
were alongside and by the time darkness fell, cutting-in was in full
swing and the black smoke of the try-works rose like a pall above the
_Hector’s_ trucks.
Throughout the night, the following day and the next night, the work
went on without cessation and at the end of the time one hundred and ten
barrels of sperm oil had been stowed in the bark’s hold.
Once more the captain and men looked hopeful while Tom and Jim teased
old Pem and the others unmercifully over their superstition. At first,
the old whaleman strove to find some argument or excuse to uphold his
belief, but failing in this, he wisely declined to say anything, while
Mike, with Irish wit, declared that three always was a lucky number
whether bo’sun birds or anything else and that he was sure that their
bad luck was over.
Captain Edwards claimed that he never had had much faith in such things
and was convinced there was nothing in it, while Mr. Kemp admitted that
he never knew of three bo’sun birds lighting on one ship on one voyage
before and therefore didn’t know what it might foretell. But not even
the most superstitious and pessimistic seaman could have found any
reason for saying, “I told you so,” for the weather held fine until
after the bark had crossed the equator and three more whales had been
taken and had added their quota of nearly one hundred barrels of oil.
Every one was in high spirits and Captain Edwards felt confident that
even if he could not fill up he could secure enough oil to meet the
expenses of the cruise when he reached the West Indian grounds. Once
more, however, ill luck seemed to be with the _Hector_. For week after
week she cruised about, with lookouts constantly at the mastheads, but
never the welcome “There she blows!” sounded from aloft, and once again
the men began to grumble and the skipper lost his smile and jollity.
“Guess it’s no use, Mr. Potter,” he announced one day. “Might as well
give up. We’re just wasting time and money here,—must be I’m getting too
old for a-whaling.”
Faint upon the distant horizon, shimmered a small island, and putting
his glasses to his eyes the captain studied it intently for a time.
“I expect we’d better run over to Monita yonder,” he remarked, half to
himself. “There’s good water there and coconuts. Might as well fill the
casks and let the men stretch their legs ashore before squaring away for
Gay Head.”
At his direction, the helmsman spun the wheel a few spokes, the bark’s
head swung towards the island and the boys, elated at thoughts of going
ashore, gazed with interest at the little speck of sea-girt land as the
bark rapidly bore down upon it. Soon the nodding palms upon the shores
were visible, the boys could see the rich, green growth upon the low
hills; upon the beach of coral sand they could see the slender thread of
white foam and near one end they made out a small stream flowing across
the beach to the sea. Never, they thought, had they seen such a
beautiful spot as this little West Indian island. They were fascinated
by the wondrous blue and turquoise of the sea. The fact that it was
uninhabited thrilled them with the boyish love of desert islands, and
they were crazy with impatience to get ashore and explore the land
beyond the wave-worn rocks that bounded the beach at either end.
Half a mile from the shore, the bark came to anchor, and as the boat was
lowered and the boys dropped into it, they uttered cries of wonder and
delight at the marvelous scene which met their eyes as they looked over
the boat’s side. Through the crystal-clear water the bottom, five
fathoms below, was as plain as though they were looking through air.
Half buried in the sand, was the bark’s great anchor with its trailing
cable; huge starfish and sponges of every hue dotted the ocean’s floor;
big purple and violet sea-fans waved gently to an unseen current and
about the many-colored masses of coral, gay-hued fish swam to and fro
like submarine butterflies.
As the boat grated upon the snowy sand beach, the boys leaped ashore,
and yelling like Indians with the sheer joy of the feel of land under
their feet they raced up the beach. While some of the men rolled the
water casks to the edge of the stream, others proceeded to gather
coconuts, while Cap’n Pem seated himself under the shade of a spreading
tree, and lighting his pipe lay back upon the soft, warm sand.
Intent upon exploration, the two boys hurried along the beach to the
outjutting rocks—stopping now and then to examine some odd specimen of
marine life cast up by the sea—and scrambling over the sharp limestone,
they found themselves at a little semicircular cove bordered by a second
beach.
A few yards from them, a large, irregular grayish object was bobbing
about at the edge of the water and thinking it some strange fish or
animal, the boys hurried to it. Much to their surprise, they found it to
be a mass of curious, porous material unlike anything they had ever
seen.
“It looks like pumice-stone,” commented Tom. “But there isn’t any
volcano here.”
“And it’s soft,” announced Jim who had poked it with a bit of driftwood.
“Must be some sort of sponge, I guess,” said Tom. “Let’s pull it ashore
and look at it.”
Bringing sticks from the fringe of brush along the beach, the boys tried
to drag the stuff ashore, but it broke or pulled apart easily and the
sticks could get no hold on it.
“Funny stuff,” remarked Tom, as he stooped to examine a small lump he
had dragged up with his stick. “Something like water-soaked bread.
Hello! Hasn’t it got a funny smell.”
“And here’s a piece of horn or something in it,” exclaimed Jim. “Say,
let’s take this piece back and ask Cap’n Pem about it. They must have
some coconuts down by now.”
Picking up the small piece of the material which had so aroused their
curiosity, they made their way back over the rocks and found the old
whaleman snoring.
“Oh, Cap’n Pem!” cried Tom, poking their friend gently in the ribs.
“Look here, what’s this stuff?”
“Lemme be!” ejaculated the old man. “Derned ef ye _ain’t_ a nuisance.
Why can’t ye ’muse yersel’s? What ye want, anyhow?”
“We want to know what this is,” explained Tom, holding out the lump of
greasy, gray stuff they had found. “There’s a big pile of it yonder and
we never saw anything like it.”
Impatiently Pem raised his head, glanced at the object Tom held out, and
the next instant leaped to his feet as if a bomb had exploded under him.
“Jumping Jehosephat!” he shouted as the boys gazed at him in amazement.
“Where’n tarnation’d ye git it? Got a lot on it, ye say! Well, I’ll be
everlastin’ly biled! What is it? Sufferin’ cats, don’t ye know? It’s
ambergris, boys, ambergris, an’ wuth five hundred dollars a poun’ ef
it’s wuth a cent! Come ’long, where in Sam Hill is it?”
“Ambergris?” cried Jim as the two boys hurried towards their find, with
Cap’n Pem stumping at his top speed beside them, “and worth five hundred
dollars a pound! Hurrah! We’ve got a fortune, Tom. There must be a ton
of it.”
But although there was far less than a ton of the valuable material,
there was enough to make the old whaleman’s eyes fairly bulge from their
sockets, and, calling on the boys to help, he plunged into the water to
his armpits and feverishly rolled and dragged the mass of ambergris
beyond the water’s edge. Then, floundering about in the shoal water, the
three gathered a number of smaller masses which had broken loose, and
hunted over every corner of the beach and rocks searching for more,
while Cap’n Pem constantly uttered exclamations of wonder and
congratulations to the boys.
“Better’n a full cargo o’ ’ile!” he declared. “Why, ding-bust me! Ye’ve
got nigh onto two hunderd pound here, an’ that’s a hunderd thousan’
dollars—jes’ as good as two thousan’ bar’l o’ ile. Derned ef ye ain’t
millionaires! Reckon they’re bein’t no more. Run over and fetch the men,
Tom, and hev ’em bring some o’ them casks.”
When at last the ambergris was safely secured in the casks and in the
boat, everything else had been forgotten, and hastily throwing in the
coconuts, Cap’n Pem and the two boys were pulled to the bark. Carefully
and with constant cautioning from Cap’n Pem the casks of treasure from
the sea were lifted on board and carried aft, where, to the wondering
eyes of the skipper and the others on board, the boys’ find was
exhibited.
“But it’s not ours,” declared Tom, when the captain congratulated the
boys on having made a fortune. “It belongs to the ship. We’re officers,
you know and we won’t take more than our lay.”
Despite the captain’s protests, the boys were firm in their decision and
at last the other gave in.
“Well, have it your way if it pleases you,” agreed the captain. “The
ambergris weighs a little over 300 pounds so your share of that alone
will be about $3,000, each. Looks as if the _Hector_ wasn’t so unlucky
after all. If we’d taken three thousand barrels of oil—besides what we
have—it wouldn’t have been worth more than those casks. You’ve saved the
day, boys.”
“Reckon I’ll have ter knuckle down about them there bo’sun birds,”
chuckled Cap’n Pem. “Mebbe three on ’em does mean good luck, jes’ as
Mike said.”
“Shure an’ didn’t Oi tell yez ’twas a full-house we’d be afther havin’
aboord ship?” exclaimed Mike. “An’ b’gorra, ’tis harrd to bate
thot—burrds or no burrds!”
“Or perhaps it was your wooden leg,” laughed Tom. “Dad said the bark was
as likely to go to sea with a wooden-legged mate as to come back with a
load of ambergris, and it’s done both. Gee, won’t we have the laugh on
him, though!”