CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE-KILLER.
On the morning of the 24th of June, the good ship Pacific was sailing
gallantly down the coast of Brazil, all her canvass spread to a light
breeze, her port tacks aboard, and heading for Bahia.
The air was hot with the breath of tropic winds, and the horizon to the
west and south was festooned with fierce red clouds. The sun was just
setting, and spreading the broad ocean with a crimson light, giving a
weird and curious outline to every feature of the ship. There was
something grand, even enchanting and sublime, in the picture here spread
out, presenting as it did the highest example of God's goodness and
reality.
The scene changed suddenly, as the sun disappeared. The fierce, red
clouds melted into softness and tenderness. A pale, yellow light spread
along the heavens and over the sea; and the ship that a few minutes
before had looked like a white-winged phantom floating over a sea of
fire, now assumed the appearance of a maiden decked in her bridal robes.
A man of short, stout figure, a sort of compromise between an alderman
and a dwarf, with very short legs, a broad red face, wide mouth, crispy
grey hair that stood nearly erect on his head, a red, punky nose, and
keen, grey eyes, paced watchfully up and down the quarter-deck. He was
dressed in white pantaloons and jacket, both fitting tight to his skin,
and wore a Panama hat, with a long black ribbon streaming behind.
He would pause at the hand-rail every few minutes, scan eagerly along
the sky from north to south, as if studying the strange and sudden
changes that were going on in the heavens. Then he would exchange a few
words with the officer of the watch, and resume his walk. Eight bells
had just struck, the wind began to freshen and veer to the southwest,
and the sky became overcast and filled with white, fleecy clouds.
An order was given to take in studding-sails and get the ship "snug" for
the night, and quickly obeyed. Order and regularity prevailed on board
the good ship Pacific; and the promptness and cheerfulness with which
both officers and men performed their duties showed that they had a more
than ordinary interest in the ship and her voyage. Fashion had not then
made slaves and idlers of our young men of wealthy parents, and it was,
indeed, thought no disgrace for a gentleman of position to send his sons
on one of these voyages, to do duty before the mast. It taught them how
to face danger and endure hardships. It developed their manliness, and
made them more self-reliant. It gave them a knowledge of the world they
could not get elsewhere, and laid a good foundation for a fixed and
lasting character. Indeed, some of our richest and most enterprising
merchants have dated their prosperity from one of these voyages.
The short, bluff-looking man pacing the quarter-deck was Captain Price
Bottom; and a more honest-hearted old salt never sailed the sea. His
great skill in killing whales had made him famous among whalemen
throughout the Pacific. He had made three successful voyages, bringing
home cargoes that had enriched his owners, put money in his own pocket,
and secured him a reputation he esteemed of more value than a fortune.
In truth, he regarded whales just as a terrier does rats, and found his
highest enjoyment in killing them. And yet nothing pleased him better
than when a whale showed pluck, as he called it, and made a square,
fierce fight for his life. A man had a chance then to show his skill and
power over the brute, he said. He held, too, that man's highest object
in life was to know how to kill a whale skilfully; and he heartily
despised the whale "as would submit quietly to the harpoon, and die like
a lubber." He also affected great contempt for the landsman who had
lived like a gentleman, and never killed a whale in his life.
"There's no lunar to-night," said Captain Bottom, pausing at the
quarter-deck rail, and addressing himself to the officer of the watch.
"There's a goin' to be dirt, sir, there is; and them royals and
topgallant-sails is got to cum in. Would'nt surprise me if we had to
double-reef topsails afore mornin'. Tell you what it is, Mr. Higgins,
there's that ar north star with a towel over her face again. Sink me if
there'll be any lunar took to-night." The captain shook his head, gave
his Panama a tip, and walking aft, stood beside the binnacle watching
the compasses for several minutes. Then returning to where the officer
of the watch stood, he resumed:
"Never made a bad landfall in my life, Mr. Higgins. Never shall be said
of Captain Price Bottom that he lost his reckonin'. It's judgment; yes,
Mr. Higgins, it's good judgment and sound sense what makes a good
sailor. A man may cram his skull till it hurts with Bowditch, but if he
hain't sense he'll never be a sailor. Same in killin' whales. If a man
hain't got sense, the whale is sure to get the advantage of him." Again
he paused, as if courting a reply; but Mr. Higgins merely bowed assent
to everything the captain said, every few minutes keeping an eye aloft
at the sails.
"Man what gets his navigation aboard ship knows his business. Got mine
there; yes, sir! Did'nt know a Bowditch from a Bible when I went aboard
ship. Can do my amplitude and variations now without looking at a
nautical almanac. Can, sir, by Jove!"
The ship bounded gallantly over the sea, leaving in her wake a long
silvery train of phosphoric light. Drawing no response from Mr. Higgins,
the captain raised his night-glass and scanned along the heavens to the
west. "We'll get somethin' out o' that quarter, butt end foremost," said
the captain, lowering his glass.
Mr. Higgins was first officer of the ship, a position secured to him,
not because he had worked his way up to it, but through the influence of
a rich father, who was a large owner in the ship and her venture. He was
a tall, well-formed, fine-looking young man, with delicate and well-cut
features, and black hair. He was also a fine scholar and a perfect
master of the theory of navigation, and a voyage or two to Europe had
given him a slight knowledge of the practical part of it. Yet he was
more an ornamental than a practical sailor; and it was this that made
Captain Bottom, the whale-killer, hold him in no very high respect.
Indeed, he had several times said, in the presence of Mr. Higgins, that
it was all very well for a young gentleman to be a scholar; but a sailor
what had his head full of books never made a fortune for his owners.
"Eight and forty hours more, Mr. Higgins! Yes, sir, eight and forty
hours more--keepin' her as she's going--and we have the land off Bahia."
Captain Bottom gave his head a significant shake as he spoke. "Using
judgment, you see; not books, Mr. Higgins. Captain Price Bottom has
sailed seventeen years, and never was deceived by that chart. Don't make
charts now as they used to make 'em, Mr. Higgins," he concluded,
shrugging his shoulders.
The wind now came over the sea roaring like a fierce lion, indicating
the rapid approach of the gale.
"If we make land off Bahia in forty-eight hours, then I'm mistaken,"
rejoined the first officer, satirically. "There's something coming that
will give us enough to do before morning."
The words had hardly escaped his lips when the full force of the gale
struck the ship, roaring and shrieking through her shrouds, and nearly
throwing her on her beam ends. The sea was soon lashed into a tempest,
and made a clean sweep over her decks. The canvas was carried clean from
the bolt-ropes, the sheets were let go, and the lighter sails clewed up,
and an attempt made to get the ship's head to the wind and lay her to.
But the mizzen-sails were all gone, and she fell off, and refused to
obey her helm. The lashings had given way, and the larboard, waist, and
quarter boats were all swept from the davits, the frames sprung, and
every timber in the good ship's hull worked, and strained, and
complained, like a frail thing that must soon go to pieces. Every order,
however, was obeyed promptly and cheerfully, for both officers and crew
felt that their lives, as well as the saving of the ship, depended on
the way in which each man performed his duty.
Just before the gale came up five young men, including Tite, might have
been seen grouped together in the waist of the ship, pondering over a
chart. Several books and nautical instruments were lying around. They
were all, except Tite, young men of wealthy parents, who had joined the
ship to enjoy the excitements of a whaling voyage. These young men, with
Tite, had formed a school of instruction, and every evening got together
in the same place to improve their knowledge in practical navigation.
One of them, a young man who had endeared himself to all on board by his
courage and the gentleness of his manners, was third mate, and took a
leading part in instructing the others. It would, indeed, have been
difficult to find two young men whose characters bore a stronger
resemblance than his and Tite's. Between them there grew up the
strongest friendship.
The ship was now laboring in the trough of the sea, when a loud crash
was heard aloft. The fore, main, and mizzen top-gallant masts had gone
in rapid succession, and the swaying mass of wreck was threatening the
destruction of the ship. Death now stared every one in the face. There
was no hope of saving the ship and the lives of those on board, except
in the strength and courage of those willing to go aloft and clear away
the wreck. But who was there to do this perilous work?
Amidst the confusion caused by the excited elements there was the sturdy
little captain, calm and cool, and giving his orders with that clearness
and decision which had always characterized him. Men were called for to
go aloft and cut away the swaying wreck, and save the ship. The first to
obey this summons was young Tite Toodleburg, whose example was followed
by the young man I have described as third mate, and one of his
companions. They mounted the fore, main, and mizzen rigging, and working
with all their strength and skill soon had the swaying wreck cut away,
and the ship relieved of her strain. But in descending, the third mate,
who had so gallantly performed his duty, lost his hold, and the ship
giving a terrible lurch, he was plunged into the sea, and seen no more.
The ship now gradually righted, and with the aid of a storm-sail in her
mizzen rigging, for her top-sail had been torn into shreds, her head was
got to the wind.
In that latitude gales of this kind are of short duration, generally;
and in half an hour from the time it struck the ship there was a calm,
smooth sea, and all hands were engaged repairing damages.
On the following morning the ship was proceeding on her course, with a
light breeze from the north and a clear sky. Captain Bottom was there on
the quarter-deck, directing affairs, and in a talkative mood.
"She's a good ship, sir, this old Pacific is, Mr. Higgins;" said he,
again addressing that officer. "Never knew her get off her feet before."
He always spoke of the ship as if she were a thing of life. "Bless her
staunch old soul! Made her timbers talk, eh? Wants a man as has got
confidence in the craft what's under him. Then if she goes down, why he
feels like being a hero and keeping her company.
"But it makes me feel bad, Mr. Higgins, that we have lost our third
mate, poor fellow! He was a good sailor, and a brave young man, and had
such good friends at home, who thought so much of him." And as he said
this tears glistened in his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry
for that young man, I am, so I am, Mr. Higgins," said the old sailor,
wiping the tears from his bronzed cheeks. "I do hope his soul will sail
in peace in a better world." Again he shook his head sorrowfully, and
then paused for a minute as if to regain control of his feelings. "God
forgive me," he resumed, "for making a woman of myself. Don't do it
often, Mr. Higgins."
"Shows that you have a kind heart, sir, and can shed a tear when it is
touched. I appreciate you for it. There is something manly in the tear
of a brave sailor," returned the officer, coldly, but politely. "We
shall get a good observation to-day, and if the men work hearty all the
spare spars and sails will be up by nightfall." Mr. Higgins's mind was
evidently on his duty, and not being inclined to enjoy the captain's
conversation, he took every opportunity to change the subject.
"Give us your hand, Mr. Higgins," said he, rather unannoyed than
otherwise by what that officer had said. "But look you here!" He lowered
his voice as he took the officer's hand, "There'll be no whales to kill
where that poor fellow has gone. Not a whale. I promised his poor old
father--a good old red coat killer he was, too, in the Revolution--that
this here son of his should kill the first whale. Yes, I did, Mr.
Higgins. And that's what mortifies me. He's dead, you see, poor fellow.
T'was'nt my fault that I did'nt keep my promise. There'll be no whales
to kill where he's gone, poor fellow!" Again he shook his head
feelingly, then raising his hat, wiped the sweat from his bronzed brow.
He now sent for Tite, who came upon the quarter-deck nervously, and
saluted his superior. "Well, my hearty," said Captain Bottom, "here's my
hand. You're a sailor, every inch on you. And a brave man, too, if
Captain Bottom does say it." Tite was not a little surprised at this
familiarity on the part of his captain, for he had before coming on
board been led to believe that the most severe discipline ruled on board
a whale ship.
"There's the true sailor in you, my hearty," continued the captain,
again shaking Tite warmly by the hand. "You saved the ship, my hearty.
There'd a bin no more of the good old Pacific--God bless her! nor none
of us standin' here, but for you, my hearty."
"I only done my duty, sir," rejoined Tite, modestly, as the color came
into his face. "I hope, captain, to merit your praise to the end of the
voyage." The young sailor made a bow, and was about returning to his
duty.
"Avast, a bit," interrupted the captain. "Your name's Toodlebug, is'nt
it, my hearty?"
"Yes, sir," replied Tite. "Titus Bright Toodleburg; usually called Tite.
Hope, sir, to improve myself in navigation and seamanship under your
command. I shall always feel proud, sir, that I sailed with you. Some
one may trust me with a ship some day."
"That's the talk, my hearty; keep a sharp look ahead," rejoined the
captain, his face lighting up with a smile. "Cram Bowditch into yer
head, and keep a sharp look ahead. Have ye so ye can bring the sun down
to dinner and put the north star in yer pocket afore ye get round Cape
Horn. You'll be a sailor yet, my hearty." Again Captain Bottom shook
Tite by the hand warmly.
"Git yer head full of navigation; and with good judgment to help ye out,
ye can look an owner in the eye without winking, and tell him ye want a
ship. And if that recommendation don't do, tell him you have killed
whales with Captain Bottom, a man what never let a whale git the better
of him. And if he has never heard of Captain Price Bottom, of the good
old ship Pacific, then he never should own a ship, and don't sail for
him. That's my advice, my hearty. So keep a sharp look out ahead." Here
he tapped Tite on the shoulder, exultingly.
"It's very kind of you," returned Tite, modestly, "to take this interest
in me, a stranger to you. I shall do my best to merit your confidence
and respect."
"A stranger, eh? Not a bit of it!" resumed the captain, quickly. "Look
ye here, my hearty. Your good old father and me was old friends. That
was years ago, you know. Meeting you brings an old love affair of thirty
years right back to my heart again. Yes, my hearty, that old feelin's
just as good as new this minute. God bless yer father; and God bless yer
mother, too! Here's a hand what'll always give a warm welcome to the son
of old Hanz Toodlebug--"
"Then you knew my father? I hope, sir, I may never do anything to lessen
your respect for him."
"Know'd him?" resumed the captain. "Yes, sir, and yer mother, too. And
when Captain Price Bottom says he know'd a man, he means it. Your father
and me was rivals!" Here he touched Tite on the elbow, and winked
significantly. "That is--well, it's rather a delicate subject--he
courted yer mother, and so did I! There, sir, there's just what it is.
She was as trim a young craft then as ever spread sails, and as full of
goodness and good looks." Captain Bottom again paused for a moment,
shook his head despondingly, and placed his hand on his heart. "A number
of young bloods like me trimmed their sails, but did'nt overhaul her.
Many a heart-flutter she caused me in them days. And just when I
thought, says I to myself, 'I'm to wind'rd,' and had got ready to make
fast to her--" Here he paused for a moment, and then lowering his voice,
continued: "Well, what does she go and do? Blow me, my hearty, if she
did'nt go off and marry your father. That's what dismasted me. Never
bore him nor her any ill-will. 'God bless ye both,' says I; 'may ye be
happy and have a large family!' And it does me good to know that they
was prosperous. Your father had a home to take a woman to, and that is
what a woman should look to. Price Bottom was poor then, and without a
shillin' in his pocket. It was disappointment that made me take to the
sea, though. Went from the fo'castle t'where you see me now--Captain
Price Bottom, sir, of the good ship Pacific. It's a man's own exertion
that lifts him up in the world. There's my poor old woman at home
to-night--God bless her and the two little ones! thinking of me, and
praying for me, and wondering where we are. Laid her up a nice little
fortune; wolf can't bark at her door. That's a gratification, my hearty.
Made three successful voyages, you see. This, our fourth one, is to be
the last. Keep a sharp look ahead, and there's a future for you, too.
Ah, there'll be a heap of happiness a'tween me and my old woman when
this voyage is ended. A true wife at home, and a lovin' husband at
sea--ah, my hearty, them's jewels!"
Tite listened with surprise to the story of this strange and eccentric
man. He had never heard either of his parents mention his name. He,
however, regarded it as very fortunate that he should be on board a ship
commanded by a captain who held his humble parents in such high regard.
The jolly old sailor finished his story by enjoining Tite to keep what
he had said a matter of confidence. He also made him third mate, to fill
the place of the young man who fell from the fore-mast into the sea
during the gale.
"You shall take a hand at killing the first whale; shall command the
larboard boat. And you shall never want a friend while Captain Price
Bottom treads this quarter-deck," he concluded.
Tite bowed, and thanked his benefactor again. He then proceeded to his
duty, as the ship headed for Bahia, with a fair wind.