wish I could talk to the birds that saw papa's ship go down, if there
were any, and ask them how it was, and if he minded it much, and if he
remembered me. I used to wish I had been with him, and one night I
dreamed about it; but when the water touched me, I was frightened, and
screamed, and woke; and then I was glad I hadn't been there, for
perhaps he wouldn't have loved me so much if he had seen that I wasn't
brave."
The little old lady kissed her tenderly.
"And now the story, please," said Ida, after a pause.
And Mrs. Overtheway began the following story:
KERGUELEN'S LAND.
"'Down in the deep, with freight and crew,
Past any help she lies,
And never a bale has come to shore
Of all thy merchandise.
'For cloth o' gold and comely frieze,'
Winstanley said, and sigh'd,
'For velvet coif, or costly coat,
They fathoms deep may bide.
'O thou, brave skipper, blithe and kind,
O mariners bold and true,
Sorry at heart, right sorry am I,
A-thinking of yours and you.'"
"WINSTANLEY" (JEAN INGELOW).
"Father Albatross had been out all day, and was come home to the
island which gives its name to this story. He had only taken a short
flight, for his wife was hatching an egg, and he kept comparatively
near the island where her nest was situated. There was only one egg,
but parental affection is not influenced by numbers. There is always
love enough for the largest family, and everything that could be
desired in an only child, and Mother Albatross was as proud as if she
had been a hen sitting on a dozen.
"The Father Albatross was very considerate. Not only did he deny
himself those long flights which he and his mate had before so greatly
enjoyed, but he generally contrived to bring back from his shorter
trips some bits of news for her amusement. Their island home lay far
out of the common track of ships, but sometimes he sighted a distant
vessel, and he generally found something to tell of birds or fish,
whales or waterspouts, icebergs or storms. When there was no news he
discussed the winds and waves, as we talk of the weather and the
crops.
"Bits of news, like misfortunes, are apt to come together. The very
day on which the egg hatched, Father Albatross returned from his
morning flight so full of what he had seen, that he hardly paid any
attention to his mate's announcement of the addition to his family.
"'Could you leave the nest for a quarter of an hour, my dear?' he
asked.
"'Certainly not,' said Mother Albatross; 'as I have told you, the egg
is hatched at last.'
"'These things always happen at the least convenient moments,' said
the father bird. 'There's a ship within a mere wing-stretch, untold
miles out of her course, and going down. I came away just as she was
sinking, that you might have a chance of seeing her. It is a horrible
sight.'
"'It must be terrible to witness', she replied, 'and I would give
worlds to see it; but a mother's first duty is the nest, and it is
quite impossible for me to move. At the same time I beg that you will
return, and see whatever there is to be seen.'
"'It is not worth while,' he answered; 'there was not a moment to
lose, and by this time she must be at the bottom with all belonging to
her.'
"'Could none of them fly away?' the Mother Albatross asked.
"'No men have wings,' replied her mate, 'nor, for that matter, fins
or scales either. They are very curious creatures. The fancy they have
for wandering about between sea and sky, when Nature has not enabled
them to support themselves in either, is truly wonderful. Go where you
will over the ocean and you meet men, as you meet fish and birds. Then
if anything disables these ships that they contrive to go about in,
down they go, and as the men can neither float nor fly, they sink to
the bottom like so many stones.'
"'Were there many on the ship you saw?' the mother bird asked.
"'More than one likes to see drowned in a batch,' said Father
Albatross 'and I feel most sorry for the captain. He was a fine
fellow, with bright eyes and dark curly plumage, and would have been a
handsome creature if he had had wings. He was going about giving
orders with desperate and vain composure, and wherever he went there
went with him a large dog with dark bright curls like his own. I have
seen the ship before, and I know the dog. His name is Carlo. He is the
captain's property, and the ship's pet. Usually he is very quiet, and
sometimes, when it blows, he is ill; but commonly he was on deck,
blinking with the most self-sufficient air you can imagine. However,
to-day, from the moment that danger was imminent, he seemed to be
aware of it, and to have only one idea on the subject, to keep close
to his master. He got in front of him as he moved about, sat down at
his feet when he stood still, jumped on him when he shouted his
orders, and licked his hands when he seized the ropes. In fact, he
was most troublesome. But what can you expect of a creature that
requires four legs to go about with, and can't rise above the earth
even with these, and doesn't move as many yards in a day as I go miles
in an hour? He _can_ swim, but only for a certain length of time.
However, he is probably quiet enough now; and perhaps some lucky
chance has rolled him to his master's feet below the sea.'
"'Have men no contrivance for escaping on these occasions?' the mother
bird inquired.
"'They have boats, into which they go when the ship will hold them no
longer. It is much as if you should put out the little one to fly in a
storm against which your own wings failed.'
"'Perhaps the boats are in good order when the ship is not,' said
Mother Albatross, who had a practical gift. 'Were there boats to this
one?'
"'There were. I saw one lowered, and quickly filled with men, eager to
snatch this last chance of life.
"'Was the captain in it?' she asked.
"'No. He stayed on the ship and gave orders. The dog stayed with him.
Another boat was lowered and filled just as the ship went down.'
"'Was the captain in it?'
"'Again, no. He stayed with the vessel and some others with him. They
were just sinking as I came for you. With the last glance I gave I saw
the captain standing quite still near the wheel. The dog was sitting
on his feet. They were both looking in one direction--away over the
sea. But why should you distress yourself? It is all over long since.
Think of the little one, and let us be thankful that we belong to a
superior race. We might have been born without wings, like poor
sailors.'
"'I cannot help grieving for the captain,' said Mother Albatross.
'When you spoke of his bright eyes and handsome plumage I thought of
you; and how should I feel if you were to die? I wish he had gone in
the boats.'
"'I doubt if he would have fared better,' said the father bird. 'The
second boat must have been swamped in the sinking of the ship; and it
is far from probable that the other will get to land.'
"'Nevertheless, I hope you will fly in that direction to-morrow,' she
said, 'and bring me word whether there are any traces of the
catastrophe.'
"The following morning Father Albatross set off as he was desired. The
ship had foundered quite near to the other side of the island, and
including a little excursion to see if the first boat were still above
water, he expected to be back very shortly.
"He returned even sooner than the Mother Albatross had hoped, and
descended to the side of their nest with as much agitation as his
majestic form was capable of displaying.
"'Wonders will never cease!' he exclaimed. 'What do you think are on
the island?'
"'I couldn't guess if I were to try from now till next hatching
season,' said his mate; 'and I beg you will not keep me in suspense. I
am not equal to the slightest trial of the nerves. It is quite enough
to be a mother.'
"'The captain and one or two more men are here,' said the albatross.
'What do you think of that? You will be able to see him for yourself,
and show the youngster what men are like into the bargain. It's very
strange how they have escaped; and that lazy, self-sufficient dog is
with them.'
"'I cannot possibly leave our young one at present,' said the Mother
Albatross, 'and he certainly cannot get so far. It will be very
provoking if the men leave the island before I can see them.'
"'There is not much to fear of that,' her mate answered. 'A lucky wave
has brought them to shore, but it will take a good many lucky waves to
bring a ship to carry them home.'
"Father Albatross was right; but his mate saw the strangers sooner
than she expected. Her nest, though built on the ground, was on the
highest point of the island, and to this the shipwrecked men soon made
their way; and there the Mother Albatross had ample chance of seeing
the bright eyes of the captain as they scanned the horizon line with
keen anxiety. Presently they fell upon the bird herself.
"'What splendid creatures they are!' he said to his companion; 'and so
grandly fearless. I was never on one of these islands where they breed
before. What a pity it is that they cannot understand one! That fellow
there, who is just stretching his noble wings, might take a message
and bring us help.'
"'He is a fine creature,' said the Mother Albatross, peeping at the
captain from her nest; 'that is, he would be if he had wings, and
could speak properly, instead of making that unmusical jabbering like
a monkey.'
"'I would give a good deal to one of them for a report of the first
boat,' the captain went on. 'Heaven knows I would be content to die
here if I could know that it was safe. But I'm afraid--I'm afraid; oh!
dear!'
"And the captain paced up and down, the other consoling him.
"'He doesn't seem as tame as one might expect,' said the Mother
Albatross, 'he's so restless. But possibly he is hungry.'
"Truly it was a great amusement for the mother bird to watch the
strangers from her nest, and to question her mate on their
peculiarities.
"'What is he doing now?' she asked on one occasion, when the captain
was reading a paper which he had taken from the note-book in his
pocket.
"'That is a letter,' said the Father Albatross. 'And from the look of
it I gather that, like ourselves, he has got a young one somewhere,
wherever his nest may be.'
"'How do you gather that?' his mate inquired.
"'Because the writing is so large,' answered the Father Albatross. 'It
is one of the peculiarities of these creatures that the smaller they
are the larger they write. That letter is from a young one; probably
his own.'
"'Very remarkable indeed,' said the Mother Albatross. 'And what is he
doing _now_?'
"'Now he is writing himself,' said her mate; 'and if you observe you
will see my statement confirmed. See how much smaller he writes!'
"The captain had indeed torn a sheet from his note-book, and was busy
scribbling upon his knees. Whether the sight of papers was a familiar
memory with Carlo, or whether he was merely moved by one of those
doggish impulses we so little understand, it is impossible to say; but
when the captain began to write, Carlo began to wag his tail, and he
wagged it without pause or weariness till the captain had finished,
keeping his nearest eye half open, and fixed upon the paper and the
captain's moving hand. Once he sat up on his haunches and put his nose
on the letter.
"'That is right, old fellow, kiss it,' said the captain. 'I am just
telling her about you. Heaven send she may ever read it, poor child!'
"At this Carlo became so frantic, and so persistent in pushing his
nose on to the paper, that the captain was fain to pocket his writing
materials, and have a game at play with the 'ship's dog,' in which the
latter condescendingly joined for a few minutes, and then lay down as
before, shutting his eyes with an air which seemed to imply--
"'I see, poor fellow, you don't understand me.'
"The hardships endured by this small remnant of the ship's company
were not very great. They managed to live. The weather was fine, and
they did not at first trouble themselves about any permanent shelter.
Perhaps, too, in spite of their seaman's knowledge of the position
they were in, some dim hope of a ship out of her course as they had
been, picking them off, buoyed them up with the fancy that 'it was not
worth while.' But no ship appeared; and they built themselves a hut
near the albatross's nest, and began to talk of other seasons, and
provision for the future. They kept a look-out by turns through the
daylight, and by night when the moon and stars made the distance
visible. Every morning the sun rising above the sea met the captain's
keen eyes scanning the horizon, and every evening that closed a day's
fruitless watch, the sun's going down saw the captain's brown hands
clasped together as he said, 'God's will be done!'
"So days became weeks, and weeks ripened into months, and Carlo became
used to his new home, and happy in it, and kept watch over his master,
and took his ease as usual. But the men's appearance changed, and
their clothes began to look shabby. In the first place they were
wearing out, and, secondly, they seemed--as we say--to be 'getting too
large' for them, and to hang loosely and untidily upon their gaunt
frames. The captain's eyes looked larger and sadder, and his voice
grew hollow at sunset, and threads of white began to show among his
dark curls, and increased in number day by day.
"'His plumage will be as white as your own very soon,' said the Mother
Albatross. 'I suppose it's the climate that does it.'
"'He is getting older,' said her mate; 'men, like ourselves, get white
as they get old.'
"'But he has been here so short a time,' said Mother Albatross.
"'He is so much the older, however,' said the father bird, and his
mate said no more; for she knew by the tone of his voice when he had
got to the end of his available information on any subject, and that
beyond this point he did not like to be pressed.
"'It's hard, it's very hard, captain, and I can't submit as you do,'
said one of the men one day. He and the captain were sitting side by
side at the look out, their elbows on their knees, and their chins
upon their hands.
"'And yet it's harder for me than for you,' said the captain. 'One
must die some day. It's not that. And you are a single man, Barker,
without ties.'
"The man stooped down, and taking one of Carlo's long ears in his
hand, played absently with it, as he said--
"'No, sir. I am not married, it's true, and have no children. I feel
for you, sir, from my heart. But in a little house just out of
Plymouth, that, God above knows, I can see this moment as clearly as I
see you, there's a girl that has either forgotten me, or is breaking
as good a heart as ever beat in woman's breast for the man that should
have been her husband, and that's fast bound here upon a rock with
sea-birds. The Lord knows best, captain, but it comes hard. We all
have our troubles, sir.'
"The captain laid his hand upon his shoulder.
"'Forgive me,' he said. 'God comfort you! God bless you!' And, rising
hurriedly, he went forward, the big tears breaking over his cheeks,
and sea and sky dancing together before his eyes.
"'What do you dream of at night, Barker?' said the captain, on
another day.
"'Home, sir,' said Barker.
"'Strange!' said the captain. 'So do I. In all the time we have been
here, I have never once dreamed of this island, or of our day's work,
nor even of seeing a sail. I dream of England night after night.'
"'It's the same with myself, sir,' said Barker. 'I'm in Plymouth half
my time, I may say. And off and on I dream of my father's old home in
Surrey.'
"'Are the men going to change their feathers, do you think?' the
Mother Albatross inquired of her mate. 'They have a most wretched
appearance. Only the dog looks like himself.' (The first excitement of
pity and curiosity had subsided, and the good couple were now
naturally inclined to be critical.)
"'I detest that dog,' said Father Albatross. 'His idleness and
arrogance make me quite sick. I think I want exercise, too, and I mean
to have a good flight to-day;' and, spreading his broad wings, the
bird sailed away.
"His excursion did not quite dispel his irritability. When he
returned, he settled down by the captain, who was sitting listlessly,
as usual, with Carlo at his feet.
"'If you would only exert yourself,' began Father Albatross,
'something might come of it. You are getting as bad as the dog. Spread
out those arms of yours, and see what you can do with them! If you
could only fly a matter of a few miles, you would see a sail--and
that's more than we had any reason to expect.'
"'What can be the matter with the birds to-day?' said the captain, who
was in rather an irritable mood himself. 'They are silent enough
generally'--for the voice of the albatross is rarely heard at sea.
"'Move your arms, I tell you,' croaked the albatross. 'Up and
down--so!--and follow me.'
"'I shall have the dog going at them next,' muttered the captain.
'Come along, Carlo.' And turning his back on Father Albatross, he
moved away.
"'He doesn't understand you,' said the Mother Albatross, who
endeavoured, as is proper, to soothe her mate's irritability, and make
peace. 'Couldn't you take a message to the ship yourself? It is
nothing to your magnificent wings, and it is not his fault, poor
creature, that he is not formed like you.'
"'You speak very sensibly, my dear' said Father Albatross; and once
more he took flight over the sea.
"But he returned in even worse mood than before.
"'Nothing can equal the stupidity of human beings,' he observed. 'I
addressed myself to the captain. "There's an island with shipwrecked
men on it a few miles to the north-east," said I. "We shall see land
in about ten days, ma'am," says the captain to a lady on deck.
"There's as big a fool as yourself wrecked on an island north-east by
north," I cried. "If you had the skill of a sparrow you could see it
with your own eyes in five minutes." "It's very remarkable," said the
captain, "I never heard one of those albatross make a sound before."
"And never will again," said I; "it's a waste of time to talk to you.
It won't take long to put you and yours under water like the rest."
And away I came.'
"'I don't understand the cry of human beings myself,' said his mate,
'and I'm rather glad I do not; it would only irritate me. Perhaps he
did not understand you.'
"'They are all stupid alike,' said the father bird; 'but I have done
my best, and shall not disturb myself any more.'
"The captain watched till sunset, and folded his hands, and bent his
head as usual, and at last lay down to sleep. He dreamt of England,
and of home--of a home that had been his long since, of a young wife,
dead years ago. He dreamt that he lay, at early morning, in a sunny
room in a little cottage where they had lived, and where, in summer,
the morning sun awoke them not much later than the birds. He dreamt
that his wife was by him, and that she thought that he was asleep, and
that, so thinking, she put her arms round his neck to awaken him--that
he lay still, and pretended to be slumbering on, and that, so lying,
he saw her face bright with an unearthly beauty, and her eyes fixed
on him with such intensity of expression that they held him like a
spell. Then he felt her warm face come nearer to his, and she kissed
his cheeks, and he heard her say, 'Wake up, my darling, I have
something to show you.' Again she repeated vehemently, 'Awake! Awake!
Look! Look!' and then he opened his eyes.
"He was lying at the look-out, and Carlo was licking his face. It was
a dream, and yet the voice was strong and clear in his ears, 'Awake!
Awake! Look! Look!'
"A heavier hand than his wife's was on his shoulder, and Barker's
rough voice (hoarser than usual), repeated the words of his dream.
"The captain's eyes followed the outstretched hand to the horizon; and
then his own voice grew hoarse, as he exclaimed--
"'My God! it is a sail!'"
* * * * *
Ida was not leaning on the little old lady's footstool now. She sat
upright, her pale face whiter than its wont.
"_Did_ the ship take them away?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes, my dear. Their signals were seen, and the ship took them home to
their friends, who had believed them to be dead."
"Do people who have been drowned--I mean who have been thought to be
drowned--ever come home _really_?" the child asked.
"Yes, really. Ida, my dear, I want you to remember that, as regards
the captain and the crew, this is a true story."
Ida clasped her hands passionately together.
"Oh, Mrs. Overtheway! Do you think Papa will ever come home?"
"My child! my dear child!" sobbed the little old lady. "I think he
will." ...
* * * * *
"And he _is_ alive--he is coming home!" Ida cried, as she recounted
Mrs. Overtheway's story to Nurse, who knew the principal fact of it
already. "And she told it to me in this way not to frighten me. I did
cry and laugh though, and was very silly; but she said I must not be
foolish, but brave like a captain's daughter, and that I ought to
thank GOD for being so good to me, when the children of the
other poor men who died will never have their fathers back in this
world: and I am thankful, so thankful! Only it is like a mill going in
my head, and I cannot help crying. And Papa wrote me a long letter
when he was on the island, and he sent it to Mrs. Overtheway because
Uncle Garbett told him that I was fond of her, and that she would tell
me nicely, and she was to read it, and to give it to me when she had
told me. And it is such a lovely letter, with all about the island,
and poor Barker, and dear old Carlo, and about the beautiful birds,
too, only Mrs. Overtheway made up a great deal of that herself. And
please, Nursey, take off my black frock and never let me see it again,
for the Captain is really coming home, and, oh! how I wish he would
come!"
The poor child was terribly excited, but her habits of obedience stood
her in good stead, for though she was vehemently certain that she
could not possibly go to sleep, in compliance with Nurse's wishes, she
went to bed, and there at last slept heavily and long; so that when
she awoke there was only just time to dress and be ready to meet her
father. She was putting out her treasures for him to look at, the
carved fans and workboxes, the beads and handkerchiefs and feathers,
the new letter and the old one--when the Captain came.
* * * * *
A week after the postman had delivered the letter which contained such
wonderful news for Ida, he brought another to Mrs. Overtheway's green
gate, addressed in the same handwriting--the Captain's. It was not
from the Captain, however, but from Ida.
"MY DEAR, DEAR MRS. OVERTHEWAY,