BOUND HOME
That night the Catalpa took a squall from the eastward which developed
into a gale, and the bark ran before it under two lower topsails and a
foresail. In forty-eight hours the vessel was four hundred miles off
the coast.
This led the leaders of the rescue to appreciate their extreme good
fortune, for if the gale had arisen the night the Catalpa left Bunbury,
Captain Anthony and his crew would not have been waiting on the beach
at Rockingham to receive the fleeing prisoners. The police, closely
following, would have rearrested the men, Breslin and his followers
would have been arrested, and disaster would have been the result
of the year of anxiety and the expenditure of a fortune contributed
largely by men who gave at considerable sacrifice. England would have
been exultant at having captured the man who released Stephens, and the
Clan-na-Gael would have suffered bitterly from the ignominy.
The day after the storm, April 19, Captain Anthony had two casks of
clothing hoisted on deck. They were the best "slops" (the whaleman's
vernacular for clothes and supplies) ever put aboard a whaling vessel.
The casks' heads were taken out, and Captain Anthony said to the men,
"Go in and help yourselves. Take all you care for, and you'll need the
thickest, for you'll see some cold weather before you reach America."
Each man selected at least two suits of clothing, as well as a large
supply of underclothes.
The rigging-pen between decks was knocked down and two tiers of berths
were built, one for each of the rescued men, from the lumber bought at
Teneriffe. They were amply supplied with bedding, seats and tables were
built, and a boy from the forecastle was assigned to attend the men.
The vessel was kept well to the northward, to take advantage of the
southeast trade-winds, which were taken in lat. 24°. Then fresh and
fair winds wafted the vessel across the Indian Ocean. At times the old
Catalpa logged two hundred miles a day, although she was not regarded
as a fast sailor.
The men were given the freedom of the ship and thoroughly enjoyed the
liberty which had been restored to them. Mr. Breslin wrote a song which
the men were wont to sing as they lay on the decks on warm evenings.
These were the words:--
"Right across the Indian Ocean, while the trade-wind follows fast,
Speeds our ship with gentle motion; fear and chains behind us cast.
Rolling home! rolling home! rolling home across the sea;
Rolling home to bright Columbia; home to friends and liberty.
"Through the waters blue and bright, through dark wave and hissing foam,
Ever onward, with delight, we are sailing still for home.
O'er our pathway, in the sunshine, flies the wide-winged albatross,
O'er our topmast, in the moonlight, hangs the starry Southern Cross.
"By the stormy cape now flying, with a full and flowing sail,
See the daylight round us dying on the black breast of the gale!
See the lightning flash above us and the dark surge roll below!
Here's a health to those who love us! Here's defiance to the foe!
"Now the wide Atlantic clearing with our good ship speeding free,
The dull 'Cape of Storms' we're leaving far to eastward on our lee.
And as homeward through the waters the old Catalpa goes,
Ho! you fellows at the masthead, let us hear once more, "She blows."
"Next by lonely St. Helena, with a steady wind we glide
By the rock-built, sea-girt prison, where the gallant Frenchman died,
With the flying fish and porpoise sporting 'round us in the wave,
With the starry flag of freedom floating o'er us bright and brave.
"Past 'The Line,' and now the dipper hangs glittering in the sky.
Onward still! In the blue water, see, the gulf weed passing by.
Homeward! Homeward to Columbia, blow you, steady breezes, blow,
'Till we hear it, from the masthead, the joyful cry, "Land ho!"
Mr. Farnham, the second mate, died suddenly of heart disease on the 8th
of May, and was buried at sea the following day. He had been a faithful
man, and there was sincere sorrow throughout the ship's company.
[Illustration: THE CATALPA HOMEWARD BOUND
Running before a Gale]
Captain Anthony made his course for the south end of Madagascar, and
stood well inshore in rounding the cape, across the Agulhas Banks,
to receive the advantage of the current which sets into the Atlantic
Ocean. Here severe winter weather was encountered. Then the "trades"
were welcomed once more, and the Catalpa sailed on with a fleet of
twenty-one merchant vessels, all following the same course.
Naturally the bark gave St. Helena a wide berth, since the neighborhood
of a British possession was to be avoided. Subsequently it was learned
that an English warship awaited the Catalpa at this point. There is an
English naval station at Ascension, and Captain Anthony was likewise
shy of a near approach to the island.
On July 10 the Catalpa crossed the equator into the North Atlantic on
long. 31° west. "You're almost American citizens now," remarked the
captain to the men on this day.
Sperm whales were seen occasionally, and the boats were twice lowered,
but the men were impatient to proceed, and little loitering was
indulged.
After running out of the northeast trades, Captain Anthony proposed
to Mr. Breslin that the vessel should make a business of cruising for
whale for a while. "Now is just the season," said he, "for whaling on
the Western Grounds. We are well enough fitted, excepting that we lack
small stores, and we have plenty of money to buy from other vessels.
I know the whaling grounds, and by hauling up to the northward we
are almost certain to pick up a few hundred barrels of oil, and the
voyage can be made as successful financially as it has been in other
respects." Mr. Breslin agreed to this, and the course was made north by
east. The men noticed the change in direction, and pleaded that they
might be put ashore without any delay, and after a day or two it was
decided to yield to their wishes; orders were given to keep her off,
and the bark was once more homeward bound.
In the height of a savage gale the Catalpa passed Bermuda, and a few
days later the lead showed that the vessel was approaching the coast.
Then a pilot came aboard, and he was greatly surprised to find the
destination to be New York, inasmuch as the vessel was a whaleship. But
Captain Anthony and Mr. Breslin had agreed that this was the best place
to land the men. Sandy Hook was eighty miles away. At six P.M. an ocean
tug was spoken, which offered to tow the vessel into New York harbor
for $250, but after considerable dickering the price was reduced to
$90, and it was accepted.