THE STEAM-YACHT “SAGA.”
There was something so gentlemanly in the appearance of Breeze McCloud
that Lord Seabright at once noticed it; and, in spite of the boy’s rough
clothes, and declaration that he was one of the crew of an American
fishing schooner, could not regard nor treat him as an ordinary
fisher-lad. While Nimbus was sent forward, to be cared for in the
forecastle and at the mess-table of the crew, Breeze was shown into the
ward-room, or quarters occupied by the sailing-master, mate, and chief
engineer of the yacht. Here the cabin steward was sent to him, with
orders to make him as comfortable as possible.
The first thing this individual noticed was that Breeze was soaked to
the skin, and shivering as though in a chill, and he hurried away to
find him some dry clothes. A few minutes later he returned with an old
but complete yachting suit, belonging to Lord Seabright, which, as the
latter was but a few years older than Breeze, and of about the same
build, fitted the boy as though made for him.
[Illustration: BREEZE’S WELCOME TO THE “SAGA.”]
While he was changing his clothes in the tiny stateroom which he was
told he might occupy as long as he remained on board the _Saga_, the
steward spread a table with the remains of the cabin dinner, which, as
it was now about half-past eight in the evening, had been just finished
when the dory was picked up.
As the steward announced that his dinner was ready, and asked him if he
were not hungry, Breeze was reminded of old Mateo, and his cheery “Vell,
Breeze, ma boy, you hongry, eh?” It gave him a homesick feeling, and he
thought how gladly he would, if he could, exchange his present luxurious
surroundings, in the company of strangers, for the forecastle of the
_Fish-hawk_, and its narrow mess-table surrounded by the faces of his
friends. There is nothing more true than that the humblest abode in
which are a person’s own people is a happier place to him than a palace
without them.
Having eaten nothing since very early that morning, Breeze did not allow
these thoughts to interfere in the slightest with his enjoyment of the
meal set before him. To him it seemed one of the most sumptuous dinners
he had ever sat down to, though the cabin steward apologized for it,
saying that their cook had unfortunately fallen overboard and been
drowned while they were cruising off Jan-Mayen, and since then they had
been obliged to get along as best they could.
It was wonderful to note how differently this man treated Breeze since
he had appeared in Lord Seabright’s clothes. He had been kind before,
but now he was respectful. All of which goes to show that, while clothes
do not make the man, they have a great deal to do with the estimation in
which he is held by strangers. Consequently it is very important that
everybody, boys as well as men, should always dress as neatly and
becomingly as their circumstances will allow.
Lord Seabright always commanded his own yacht, in which he took great
pride, and which he was capable of managing in every detail. Whatever
this young man undertook he performed thoroughly, and at present he
found his chief pleasure in yachting, a pursuit in which his great
wealth enabled him to indulge without a thought of the expense attending
it. This was the _Saga’s_ first cruise, and it had been extended as far
northward as the wild land of Jan-Mayen, which is about two hundred
miles nearer the north pole than Iceland. It is also a volcanic bubble
of the earth’s crust, though much smaller and even more desolate than
its neighbor on the south.
Since leaving these, and reaching the coast of Iceland, the Saga had
penetrated several of the deep northern fiords, and Lord Seabright had
visited a number of the fire Jökulls, boiling sulphur springs, and other
interesting objects and places of that part of the island. Now the yacht
was on her way to Reykjavik, from which an inland expedition was to be
made to the famous geysers.
After Breeze had finished his dinner the steward informed him that his
lordship would like to have a few words with him in the cabin.
The cabin, or main saloon, was located as nearly as possible in the
centre of the yacht, though forward of the engines and boilers. As
Breeze was ushered into it, he was for a moment bewildered by its
elegance and its luxurious appointments, which far surpassed anything he
had ever dreamed of. Mirrors, carvings, silken curtains, rich furniture,
velvet carpets, a sideboard glistening with silver, a small upright
piano built into the oak wainscoting, an open fireplace with a
chimney-piece of carved oak above it, a small library of choice books,
and many other beautiful things, of which he did not know the names or
uses, greeted the boy’s astonished gaze. Although it was still daylight
outside, the sky was so overcast that the saloon would have been in
comparative darkness had it not been for the floods of light coming from
four opaque globes set into the ceiling and softening the electric
flames that flashed behind them.
As the saloon door was thrown open by the cabin steward, and Breeze was
confronted by all this blaze of light and color, he hesitated for a
moment, and felt almost afraid to enter. Then the Yankee independence to
which he had been educated asserted itself, and he stepped inside the
gorgeous apartment.
Lord Seabright did not at first recognize the handsome, gentlemanly
appearing fellow who, clad in a becoming blue yachting suit, now stood
before him, and for an instant looked inquiringly at him. He had risen
from the easy-chair in which he had been seated, and the moment he
realized who the visitor was, he stepped forward, instinctively held out
his hand to Breeze, and bade him welcome to the _Saga_. Then he
introduced him to the only other occupant of the saloon, a tired-looking
young man, who lay upon a lounge smoking.
"Without rising, this gentleman greeted Breeze with, “Ah, pleased
awfully! Have a weed?”
“No, I thank you,” replied Breeze, who could hardly help laughing. “I
have not learned to smoke yet.”
“Ah, good boy! Advise you not to. Beastly habit. Rough on the
constitution.”
“Oh, Whyte! Whyte!” laughed his friend. “If you would only practise the
half of what you preach, what a fine fellow you would become!”
“Yes,” replied the other, “I fancy my theory is very nearly perfect, but
it is really too much of a grind, don’t you know, to put it into
practice. I’d rather let some other chap do that.”
This was a fair example of Mr. Whyte Whymper’s character. He was
good-natured, easy-going, blessed with most excellent mental and
physical qualities, but was too indolent to improve either the one or
the other. He was not exactly the companion the owner of the _Saga_
would have chosen for this northern trip, but several other friends had
disappointed him at the last moment, and he was obliged to make the best
of the one who was at liberty, and willing to accompany him.
“Well, McCloud,” said Lord Seabright, after a few moments’ pleasant chat
that served to make the boy feel quite at home, “sit down and tell us
how you and your black friend happened to get lost, and to be drifting
about on the open sea in that queer-looking craft of yours. It strikes
me that you were in a pretty nasty position, and I’m curious to hear
about it.”
Although Breeze confined his story to his experiences while on the
_Fish-hawk_, and after leaving her, his hearers were much interested in
what he had to tell them. They seemed to consider it a very plucky thing
for a small schooner, such as he described, to cross the Atlantic for
the purpose of fishing in those stormy northern seas, and they asked him
many questions in regard to the American methods of fishing.
“What do you expect to do, now that you have lost your schooner?” asked
Lord Seabright, at length.
“I don’t know, sir,” replied Breeze. “If I knew of any way to find her
again I’d try it; but I can’t seem to think of any.”
“Neither can I, and I don’t see that there is anything for you to do but
to come with us to Reykjavik and see what offers when you get there.
Perhaps there will be some vessel in port bound for America, on which
you can engage a passage.”
“Well, sir,” said Breeze, “I suppose that will be the best thing for us
to do, and we’ll be very glad to work our passage if you’ll let us.
Nimbus is a good cook, and as yours got drowned, perhaps you can make
him useful in that way. I am willing to do anything I can. At any rate,”
he added, brightening at the thought, “if you’d take ambergris, we might
pay for our passage in that.”
Both the gentlemen were highly amused at this suggestion, and as soon as
he could control his voice, Lord Seabright said,
“My dear fellow, yachts are not allowed to receive payment for carrying
passengers. Even if they were, you must not think so meanly of us as to
fancy that we would consider the aiding of distressed mariners any less
of a pleasure than it is a duty. I shall be only too glad to employ your
black friend, and if he proves a good cook will pay him liberal wages.
As for yourself, it is a pleasure to have your company, and I am
especially glad to have somebody on board who has been at least once
into Reykjavik harbor, and can give us some information as to the
channel and the place itself.”
“I shall be only too glad to do anything I can to earn my passage, and
will give you all the information I have,” replied Breeze, “but I am
afraid it won’t amount to very much.”
“Whatever it is, I feel certain it will be worth the having,” said the
other, politely, “and now I move that we all turn in, and prepare by a
good sleep for our grand entrance into the capital to-morrow.”
After Breeze had gone, Lord Seabright remarked to his friend, “I like
that fellow, Whyte. He seems to be an uncommonly bright and manly sort
of a chap.”
“Oh yes,” replied the other, indifferently. “He’s not half bad for a
Yankee.”
After satisfying himself that Nimbus was comfortably provided for, and
that the ambergris, upon which he was now building many hopes and no
longer wished to exchange for a loaf of bread, was safe, the tired boy
sought his bunk, feeling very grateful for the snug quarters in which he
found himself.
On the following day, Nimbus, to his own intense satisfaction, was
installed in the galley, and given charge of more pots, pans, kettles,
and other kitchen utensils than he had ever dreamed could exist in one
ship. He also found that he had full authority to order about as he
pleased, a young lad who filled the position of scullion in his
department. With the gaining of this knowledge, he assumed such an air
of dignity as made him appear comical enough to all eyes except those of
the unfortunate boy for whose especial benefit it was put on. The
originality of the black man’s appearance was further increased by a
white jacket, a large white apron, and a cook’s white linen cap. When
this cap was perched on the back of his head it seemed to rest upon his
immense ears; while his grotesque thatch of wool projected several
inches in front of it. In spite of the absurdity of his appearance, he
proved to be a capital cook, and managed his department in a manner
thoroughly satisfactory to his new employer. The good-natured fellow’s
sole regret, which he expressed to Breeze many times, was, that “Dat ole
rask Mateo” could not see him in his present exalted station, “at de
head ob a camboose fit fo’ de King ob Africa hissef.”
During this day, too, the grayish mass in the dory was pronounced to be
ambergris, beyond a doubt, was carefully weighed, and stored in stout
boxes made by the yacht’s carpenter. Its weight was found to be a few
ounces over one hundred and twenty pounds, and Lord Seabright told
Breeze that its value in the London market would not be far from fifty
thousand dollars.
Quite dazzled by the magnitude of this sum, Breeze for a while thought
of himself as a young man of fortune, and indulged in delightful dreams
of what he would do with the money as soon as it came into his
possession. Suddenly the remembrance of Nimbus came upon him like a
blow. Was not the black man, who had been his faithful dorymate,
entitled to an equal share in it? Of course he was, though it was with
reluctance that Breeze admitted the fact to himself. Still, even such a
division would leave him twenty-five thousand dollars. It would be
enough to purchase several fishing vessels, and make him a person of
considerable prominence in Gloucester.
The thought of Gloucester brought another with it. On what terms was the
fishing business carried on there? Was it not on the basis of one-half
the catch to the vessel and half to the crew? To be sure it was, and
this ambergris was one of the incidental profits of the _Fish-hawk’s_
voyage to Iceland. But, then, had not he and Nimbus found it all by
themselves and risked their lives in obtaining and saving it? It would
be easy enough to sell it, keep the money, and say nothing about it.
So, locked in his tiny state-room, the boy struggled with the right and
the wrong of this question for more than an hour. Finally the right
triumphed, and when he became conscious of the fact, Breeze felt as
light-hearted and happy as though he had been crushed under the whole
weight of fifty thousand dollars in gold, and it had suddenly been
lifted from him.
When, soon afterwards, he was congratulated by Mr. Whyte Whymper upon
the amount of his fortune, he replied, “Yes, sir, seventeen hundred
dollars is a good deal of money for a boy like me to have at once.”
“Seventeen hundred dollars!” exclaimed the other. “Why, I thought it was
ten thousand pounds?”
“So it is, sir, in all; but, according to Gloucester rule, half of it
goes to the schooner, and the other half must be divided among her crew
of twelve others besides Nimbus and myself.”
When he made this statement of the case to his black dorymate, he was
put to shame by discovering that the honest fellow had never taken any
other view of it.
At the same time Mr. Whyte Whymper was saying to Lord Seabright, “I have
just discovered that our young Yankee friend is possessed of a degree of
honesty that, to me, would be worth all his other good qualities put
together.”
About noon the yacht passed the Snäfells and entered the waters of Faxa
Fiord. As she approached Reykjavik, and began to thread her way among
the islands that enclose its harbor, Breeze stood on the bridge with
Lord Seabright and Mr. Marlin. He had already pointed out on the chart
the course taken by the _Fish-hawk_ a few days before, and the same one
was now held by the _Saga_. There was one very narrow channel that
Breeze bore in particular remembrance on account of the huge, isolated
mass of lava that had risen from and partially leaned over one side of
it. Both he and Captain Coffin had wondered if it might not some time
topple over and block the passage. Now he looked for it in vain. Could
he be mistaken in the place? Again he studied the chart intently. No,
the other landmarks were all right, but this one had disappeared. The
_Saga_ was just about to enter the channel. He was not absolutely sure
that he was right, but he felt impelled to call out, “Stop her, sir!
Stop her, please, and back her!”
“Why, what is the matter, McCloud?” exclaimed Lord Seabright, as he
complied with this request and rang the engine-room bell.
When Breeze had told them of his fears Mr. Marlin went with a boat’s
crew to sound the channel. Upon his return he reported an ugly rock
rising to within a few feet of the surface, almost in the middle of it,
with deep water on both sides.
So the _Saga_, which was carefully worked through the narrow place to
one side of the danger, was saved from almost certain wreck only by
Breeze McCloud’s keen observation and retentive memory. They afterwards
learned that the huge mass of rock had fallen into the sea with a
tremendous crash on that very day.
Although hospitably received and entertained by the governor and other
members of Reykjavik society, the two English gentlemen were almost as
much disappointed in the Icelandic capital as Breeze had been on his
former visit to it. Lord Seabright, however, anticipated great pleasure
from the proposed trip to the geysers, and hurried forward the
preparations for it as rapidly as possible. His friend was by no means
so enthusiastic as he, and finally decided that he would rather remain
in comfortable quarters on board the _Saga_ than to undertake the
tedious journey to the geysers merely for the sake of seeing what he
termed a fountain of boiling water.
Nothing could alter this decision, and finally, declaring him to be
altogether too lazy to live, Lord Seabright turned to Breeze and said,
“Will you go with me in his place, McCloud? I know the invitation comes
rather late; but if you will overlook that, and accept it, I shall be
most happy to have your company on this trip to the geysers.”