THE WORLD OF ICE
OR
The Whaling Cruise of "The Dolphin"
AND
The Adventures of Her Crew in the Polar Regions
By
Robert Michael Ballantyne
Author of "The Dog Crusoe and his Master," "The Young Fur-Traders,"
"The Gorilla-Hunters," "Ungava," "The Coral Island," &c.
1893
PREFACE
Dear Reader, most people prefer a short to a long preface. Permit me,
therefore, to cut this one short, by simply expressing an earnest hope
that my book may afford you much profit and amusement.
R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Some of the "dramatis personæ" introduced--Retrospective
glances--Causes of future effects--Our hero's early life at sea--A
pirate--A terrible fight and its consequences--Buzzby's helm lashed
amidships--A whaling-cruise begun.
CHAPTER II.
Departure of the "Pole Star" for the Frozen Seas--Sage reflections of
Mrs. Bright, and sagacious remarks of Buzzby--Anxieties, fears,
surmises, and resolutions--Isobel--A search proposed--Departure of the
"Dolphin" for the Far North.
CHAPTER III.
The voyage--The "Dolphin" and her crew--Ice ahead--Polar
scenes--Masthead observations--The first whale--Great excitement.
CHAPTER IV.
The chase and the battle--The chances and dangers of whaling
war--Buzzby dives for his life and saves it--So does the whale and loses
it--An anxious night, which terminates happily, though with a heavy
loss.
CHAPTER V.
Miscellaneous reflections--The coast of Greenland--Upernavik--News of
the "Pole Star"--Midnight-day--Scientific facts and fairy-like
scenes--Tom Singleton's opinion of poor old women--In danger of a
squeeze--Escape.
CHAPTER VI.
The gale--Anchored to a berg which proves to be a treacherous
one--Dangers of the "pack"--Beset in the ice--Mivins shows an inquiring
mind--Walruses--Gale freshens--Chains and cables--Holding on for
life--An unexpected discovery--A "nip" and its terrible
consequences--Yoked to an iceberg.
CHAPTER VII.
New characters introduced--An old game under novel
circumstances--Remarkable appearances in the sky--O'Riley meets with a
mishap.
CHAPTER VIII.
Fred and the doctor go on an excursion in which, among other strange
things, they meet with red snow and a white bear, and Fred makes his
first essay as a sportsman.
CHAPTER IX.
The "Dolphin" gets beset in the ice--Preparations for wintering in the
ice--Captain Guy's code of laws.
CHAPTER X.
Beginning of winter--Meetuck effects a remarkable change in the men's
appearance--Mossing, and working, and plans for a winter campaign.
CHAPTER XI.
A hunting-expedition, in the course of which the hunters meet with many
interesting, dangerous, peculiar, and remarkable experiences, and make
acquaintance with seals, walruses, deer, and rabbits.
CHAPTER XII.
A dangerous sleep interrupted--A night in a snow-hut, and an unpleasant
visitor--Snowed up.
CHAPTER XIII.
Journey resumed--The hunters meet with bears and have a great fight, in
which the dogs are sufferers--A bear's dinner--Mode in which Arctic
rocks travel--The ice-belt.
CHAPTER XIV.
Departure of the sun--Effects of darkness on dogs--Winter arrangements
in the interior of the "Dolphin."
CHAPTER XV.
Strangers appear on the scene--The Esquimaux are hospitably entertained
by the sailors--A spirited traffic--Thieving propensities and summary
justice.
CHAPTER XVI.
The Arctic Theatre enlarged upon--Great success of the first play--The
Esquimaux submit, and become fast friends.
CHAPTER XVII.
Expeditions on foot--Effects of darkness on dogs and men--The first
death--Caught in a trap--The Esquimau camp.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The hunting-party--Reckless driving--A desperate encounter with a
walrus, etc.
CHAPTER XIX.
The northern party--A narrow escape, and a great discovery--Esquimaux
again, and a joyful surprise.
CHAPTER XX.
Keeping it down--Mutual explanations--The true
comforter--Death--New-Year's day.
CHAPTER XXI.
First gleam of light--Trip to welcome the sun--Bears and strange
discoveries--O'Riley is reckless--First view of the sun.
CHAPTER XXII.
The "Arctic Sun"--Rats! rats! rats!--A hunting-party--Out on the
floes--Hardships.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Unexpected arrivals--The rescue party--Lost and found--Return to the
ship.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Winter ends--The first insect--Preparations for departure--Narrow
escape--Cutting out--Once more afloat--Ship on fire--Crew take to the
boats.
CHAPTER XXV.
Escape to Upernavik--Letter from home--Meetuck's grandmother--Dumps and
Poker again.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The return--The surprise--Buzzby's sayings and doings--The
narrative--Fighting battles o'er again--Conclusion.
CHAPTER I.
_Some of the "dramatis personæ" introduced--Retrospective
glances--Causes of future effects--Our hero's early life at sea--A
pirate--A terrible fight and its consequences--Buzzby's helm lashed
amidships--A whaling-cruise begun._
Nobody ever caught John Buzzby asleep by any chance whatever. No weasel
was ever half so sensitive on that point as he was. Wherever he happened
to be (and in the course of his adventurous life he had been to nearly
all parts of the known world) he was the first awake in the morning and
the last asleep at night; he always answered promptly to the first call;
and was never known by any man living to have been seen with his eyes
shut, except when he winked, and that operation he performed less
frequently than other men.
John Buzzby was an old salt--a regular true-blue Jack tar of the old
school, who had been born and bred at sea; had visited foreign ports
innumerable; had weathered more storms than he could count, and had
witnessed more strange sights than he could remember. He was tough, and
sturdy, and grizzled, and broad, and square, and massive--a first-rate
specimen of a John Bull, and according to himself, "always kept his
weather-eye open." This remark of his was apt to create confusion in the
minds of his hearers; for John meant the expression to be understood
figuratively, while, in point of fact, he almost always kept one of his
literal eyes open and the other partially closed, but as he reversed the
order of arrangement frequently, he might have been said to keep his
lee-eye as much open as the weather one. This peculiarity gave to his
countenance an expression of earnest thoughtfulness mingled with humour.
Buzzby was fond of being thought old, and he looked much older than he
really was. Men guessed his age at fifty-five, but they were ten years
out in their reckoning; for John had numbered only forty-five summers,
and was as tough and muscular as ever he had been--although not quite so
elastic.
John Buzzby stood on the pier of the sea-port town of Grayton watching
the active operations of the crew of a whaling-ship which was on the
point of starting for the ice-bound seas of the Frozen Regions, and
making sundry remarks to a stout, fair-haired boy of fifteen, who stood
by his side gazing at the ship with an expression of deep sadness.
"She's a trim-built craft and a good sea-boat, I'll be bound, Master
Fred," observed the sailor; "but she's too small by half, accordin' to
my notions, and I _have_ seen a few whalers in my day. Them bow-timbers,
too, are scarce thick enough for goin' bump agin the ice o' Davis'
Straits. Howsom'iver, I've seen worse craft drivin' a good trade in the
Polar Seas."
"She's a first-rate craft in all respects; and you have too high an
opinion of your own judgment," replied the youth indignantly. "Do you
suppose that my father, who is an older man than yourself and as good a
sailor, would buy a ship, and fit her out, and go off to the
whale-fishery in her, if he did not think her a good one?"
"Ah! Master Fred, you're a chip of the old block--neck or nothing--carry
on all sail till you tear the masts out of her! Reef the t'gallant sails
of your temper, boy, and don't run foul of an old man who has been all
but a wet-nurse to ye--taught ye to walk, and swim, and pull an oar, and
build ships, and has hauled ye out o' the sea when ye fell in--from the
time ye could barely stump along on two legs, lookin' like as if ye was
more nor half-seas-over."
"Well, Buzzby," replied the boy, laughing, "if you've been all that to
me, I think you _have_ been a _wet_-nurse too! But why do you run down
my father's ship? Do you think I'm going to stand that? No! not even
from you, old boy."
"Hallo! youngster," shouted a voice from the deck of the vessel in
question, "run up and tell your father we're all ready, and if he don't
make haste he'll lose the tide, so he will, and that'll make us have to
start on a Friday, it will, an' that'll not do for me, nohow it won't;
so make sail and look sharp about it, do--won't you?"
"What a tongue he's got!" remarked Buzzby. "Before I'd go to sea with a
first mate who jawed like that I'd be a landsman. Don't ever you git to
talk too much, Master Fred, wotever ye do. My maxim is--and it has
served me through life, uncommon--'Keep your weather-eye open and your
tongue housed 'xcept when you've got occasion to use it.' If that
fellow'd use his eyes more and his tongue less, he'd see your father
comin' down the road there, right before the wind, with his old sister
in tow."
"How I wish he would have let me go with him!" muttered Fred to himself
sorrowfully.
"No chance now, I'm afeard," remarked his companion. "The gov'nor's as
stiff as a nor'-wester. Nothin' in the world can turn him once he's made
up his mind but a regular sou'-easter. Now, if you had been _my_ son,
and yonder tight craft _my_ ship, I would have said, 'Come at once.' But
your father knows best, lad; and you're a wise son to obey orders
cheerfully, without question. That's another o' my maxims, 'Obey orders,
an' ax no questions.'"
Frederick Ellice, senior, who now approached, whispering words of
consolation into the ear of his weeping sister, might, perhaps, have
just numbered fifty years. He was a fine, big, bold, hearty Englishman,
with a bald head, grizzled locks, a loud but not harsh voice, a rather
quick temper, and a kind, earnest, enthusiastic heart. Like Buzzby, he
had spent nearly all his life at sea, and had become so thoroughly
accustomed to walking on an unstable foundation that he felt quite
uncomfortable on solid ground, and never remained more than a few months
at a time on shore. He was a man of good education and gentlemanly
manners, and had worked his way up in the merchant service step by step
until he obtained the command of a West India trader.
A few years previous to the period in which our tale opens, an event
occurred which altered the course of Captain Ellice's life, and for a
long period plunged him into the deepest affliction. This was the loss
of his wife at sea under peculiarly distressing circumstances.
At the age of thirty Captain Ellice had married a pretty blue-eyed girl,
who resolutely refused to become a sailor's bride unless she should be
permitted to accompany her husband to sea. This was without much
difficulty agreed to, and forthwith Alice Bremner became Mrs. Ellice,
and went to sea. It was during her third voyage to the West Indies that
our hero Fred was born, and it was during this and succeeding voyages
that Buzzby became "all but a wet-nurse" to him.
Mrs. Ellice was a loving, gentle, seriously-minded woman. She devoted
herself, heart and soul to the training of her boy, and spent many a
pleasant hour in that little, unsteady cabin in endeavouring to instil
into his infant mind the blessed truths of Christianity, and in making
the name of Jesus familiar to his ear. As Fred grew older his mother
encouraged him to hold occasional intercourse with the sailors--for her
husband's example taught her the value of a bold, manly spirit, and she
knew that it was impossible for her to instil _that_ into him--but she
was careful to guard him from the evil that he might chance to learn
from the men, by committing him to the tender care of Buzzby. To do the
men justice, however, this was almost unnecessary, for they felt that a
mother's watchful eye was on the child, and no unguarded word fell from
their lips while he was romping about the forecastle.
When it was time for Fred to go to school, Mrs. Ellice gave up her
roving life and settled in her native town of Grayton, where she resided
with her widowed sister, Amelia Bright, and her niece Isobel. Here Fred
received the rudiments of an excellent education at a private academy.
At the age of twelve, however, Master Fred became restive, and during
one of his father's periodical visits home, begged to be taken to sea.
Captain Ellice agreed; Mrs. Ellice insisted on accompanying them; and in
a few weeks they were once again on their old home, the ocean, and Fred
was enjoying his native air in company with his friend Buzzby, who stuck
to the old ship like one of her own stout timbers.
But this was destined to be a disastrous voyage. One evening, after
crossing the line, they descried a suspicious-looking schooner to
windward, bearing down upon them under a cloud of canvas.
"What do you think of her, Buzzby?" inquired Captain Ellice, handing
his glass to the seaman.
Buzzby gazed in silence and with compressed lips for some time; then he
returned the glass, at the same time muttering the word, "Pirate."
"I thought so," said the captain in a deep, unsteady voice. "There is
but one course for us, Buzzby," he continued, glancing towards his wife,
who, all unconscious of their danger, sat near the taffrail employed
with her needle; "these fellows show no mercy, because they expect none
either from God or man. We must fight to the last. Go, prepare the men
and get out the arms. I'll tell my wife."
Buzzby went forward; but the captain's heart failed him, and he took two
or three rapid, hesitating turns on the quarter-deck ere he could make
up his mind to speak.
"Alice," he said at length abruptly, "yonder vessel is a pirate."
Mrs. Ellice looked up in surprise, and her face grew pale as her eye met
the troubled gaze of her husband.
"Are you quite sure, Frederick?"
"Yes, quite. Would God that I were left alone to--but--nay, do not be
alarmed; perhaps I am wrong, it may be a--a clipper-built
trading-vessel. If not, Alice, we must make some show of fighting, and
try to frighten them. Meanwhile you must go below."
The captain spoke encouragingly as he led his wife to the cabin; but his
candid countenance spoke too truthfully, and she felt that his look of
anxious concern bade her fear the worst.
Pressing her fervently to his heart, Captain Ellice sprang on deck.
By this time the news had spread through the ship, and the crew,
consisting of upwards of thirty men, were conversing earnestly in knots
of four or five while they sharpened and buckled on cutlasses, or loaded
pistols and carbines.
"Send the men aft, Mr. Thompson," said the captain, as he paced the deck
to and fro, casting his eyes occasionally on the schooner, which was
rapidly nearing the vessel. "Take another pull at these
main-topsail-halyards, and send the steward down below for my sword and
pistols. Let the men look sharp; we've no time to lose, and hot work is
before us."
"I will go for your sword, father," cried Fred, who had just come on
deck.
"Boy, boy, you must go below; you can be of no use here."
"But, father, you know that I'm not _afraid_."
"I know that, boy--I know it well; but you're too young to fight--you're
not strong enough. Besides, you must comfort and cheer your mother; she
may want you."
"I'm old enough and strong enough to load and fire a pistol, father; and
I heard one of the men say we would need all the hands on board, and
more if we had them. Besides, it was my mother who told me what was
going on, and sent me on deck to _help you, to fight._"
A momentary gleam of pride lit up the countenance of the captain as he
said hastily, "You may stay, then," and turned towards the men, who now
stood assembled on the quarter-deck.
Addressing the crew in his own blunt, vigorous style, he said, "Lads,
yon rascally schooner is a pirate, as you all know well enough. I need
not ask you if you are ready to fight; I see by your looks you are. But
that's not enough--you must make up your minds to fight _well_. You know
that pirates give no quarter. I see the decks are swarming with men. If
you don't go at them like bull-dogs, you'll walk the plank before sunset
every man of you. Now, go forward, and double-shot your muskets and
pistols, and stick as many of the latter into your belts as they will
hold. Mr. Thompson, let the gunner double-shot the four big guns, and
load the little carronade with musket-balls to the muzzle. If they do
try to board us, they'll get a warm reception."
"There goes a shot, sir," said Buzzby, pointing towards the piratical
schooner, from the side of which a white cloud burst, and a round shot
ricochetted over the sea, passing close ahead of the ship.
"Ay, that's a request for us to lay-to," said the captain bitterly, "but
we won't. Keep her away a point."
"Ay, ay, sir," sung out the man at the wheel. A second and a third shot
were fired, but passed unheeded, and the captain, fully expecting that
the next would be fired into them, ordered the men below.
"We can't afford to lose a man, Mr. Thompson; send them all down."
"Please, sir, may I remain?" said Buzzby, touching his hat.
"Obey orders," answered the captain sternly. The sailor went below with
a sulky fling.
For nearly an hour the two vessels cut through the water before a steady
breeze, during which time the fast-sailing schooner gradually overhauled
the heavy West Indiaman, until she approached within speaking distance.
Still Captain Ellice paid no attention to her, but stood with compressed
lips beside the man at the wheel, gazing alternately at the sails of his
vessel and at the windward horizon, where he fancied he saw indications
that led him to hope the breeze would fail ere long.
As the schooner drew nearer, a man leaped on the hammock-nettings, and,
putting a trumpet to his mouth, sang out lustily, "Ship ahoy! where are
you from, and what's your cargo?"
Captain Ellice made no reply, but ordered four of his men on deck to
point one of the stern-chasers.
Again the voice came harshly across the waves, as if in passion, "Heave
to, or I'll sink you." At the same moment the black flag was run up to
the peak, and a shot passed between the main and fore masts.
"Stand by to point this gun," said the captain in a subdued voice.
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"Fetch a red-hot iron; luff, luff a little--a little more steady--so."
At the last word there was a puff and a roar, and an iron messenger flew
towards the schooner. The gun had been fired more as a reply of
defiance to the pirate than with the hope of doing him any damage; but
the shot had been well aimed--it cut the schooner's main-sail-yard in
two and brought it rattling down on deck. Instantly the pirate yawed and
delivered a broadside; but in the confusion on deck the guns were badly
aimed, and none took effect. The time lost in this manoeuvre, added to
the crippled condition of the schooner, enabled the West Indiaman to
gain considerably on her antagonist; but the pirate kept up a
well-directed fire with his bow-chasers, and many of the shots struck
the hull and cut the rigging seriously. As the sun descended towards the
horizon the wind fell gradually, and ceased at length altogether, so
that both vessels lay rolling on the swell with their sails flapping
idly against the masts.
"They're a-gittin' out the boats, sir," remarked John Buzzby, who,
unable to restrain himself any longer, had crept upon deck at the risk
of another reprimand; "and, if my eyes be'n't deceiving me, there's a
sail on the horizon to wind'ard--leastways, the direction which _wos_
wind'ard afore it fell calm."
"She's bringing a breeze along with her," remarked the captain, "but I
fear the boats will come up before it reaches us. There are three in the
water and manned already. There they come. Now, then, call up all
hands."
In a few seconds the crew of the West Indiaman were at their stations
ready for action, and Captain Ellice, with Fred at his elbow, stood
beside one of the stern-chasers. Meanwhile, the boats of the pirate,
five in number, pulled away in different directions, evidently with the
intention of attacking the ship at different points. They were full of
men armed to the teeth. While they rowed towards the ship the schooner
resumed its fire, and one ball cut away the spanker-boom and slightly
wounded two of the men with splinters. The guns of the ship were now
brought to bear on the boats, but without effect, although the shot
plunged into the water all round them. As they drew nearer a brisk fire
of musketry was opened on them, and the occasional falling of an oar and
confusion on board showed that the shots told. The pirates replied
vigorously, but without effect, as the men of the ship were sheltered by
the bulwarks.
"Pass the word to load and reserve fire," said the captain; "and hand me
a musket, Fred. Load again as fast as I fire." So saying, the captain
took aim and fired at the steersman of the largest boat, which pulled
towards the stern. "Another, Fred--"
At this moment a withering volley was poured upon the boat, and a savage
yell of agony followed, while the rowers who remained unhurt paused for
an instant as if paralyzed. Next instant they recovered, and another
stroke would have brought them almost alongside, when Captain Ellice
pointed the little carronade and fired. There was a terrific crash; the
gun recoiled violently to the other side of the deck; and the pirate
boat sank, leaving the sea covered with dead and wounded men. A number,
however, who seemed to bear charmed lives, seized their cutlasses with
their teeth, and swam boldly for the ship. This incident, unfortunately,
attracted too much of the attention of the crew, and ere they could
prevent it another boat reached the bow of the ship, the crew of which
sprang up the side like cats, formed on the forecastle, and poured a
volley upon the men.
"Follow me, lads!" shouted the captain, as he sprang forward like a
tiger. The first man he reached fell by a ball from his pistol; in
another moment the opposing parties met in a hand-to-hand conflict.
Meanwhile Fred, having been deeply impressed with the effect of the shot
from the little carronade, succeeded in raising and reloading it. He had
scarcely accomplished this when one of the boats reached the larboard
quarter, and two of the men sprang up the side. Fred observed them, and
felled the first with a handspike before he reached the deck; but the
pirate who instantly followed would have killed him had he not been
observed by the second mate, who had prevented several of the men from
joining in the _mêlée_ on the forecastle in order to meet such an
emergency as this. Rushing to the rescue with his party, he drove the
pirates back into the boat, which was immediately pulled towards the
bow, where the other two boats were now grappling and discharging their
crews on the forecastle. Although the men of the West Indiaman fought
with desperate courage, they could not stand before the increasing
numbers of pirates who now crowded the fore part of the ship in a dense
mass. Gradually they were beaten back, and at length were brought to bay
on the quarter-deck.
"Help, father!" cried Fred, pushing through the struggling crowd,
"here's the carronade ready loaded."
"Ha! boy, well done!" cried the captain, seizing the gun, and, with the
help of Buzzby, who never left his side, dragging it forward. "Clear the
way, lads!"
In a moment the little cannon was pointed to the centre of the mass of
men, and fired. One awful shriek of agony rose above the din of the
fight, as a wide gap was cut through the crowd; but this only seemed to
render the survivors more furious. With a savage yell they charged the
quarter-deck, but were hurled back again and again by the captain and a
few chosen men who stood around him. At length one of the pirates, who
had been all along conspicuous for his strength and daring, stepped
deliberately up, and pointing a pistol at the captain's breast, fired.
Captain Ellice fell, and at the same moment a ball laid the pirate low;
another charge was made; Fred rushed forward to protect his father, but
was thrown down and trodden under foot in the rush, and in two minutes
more the ship was in possession of the pirates.
Being filled with rage at the opposition they had met with, these
villains proceeded, as they said, to make short work of the crew, while
several of them sprang into the cabin, where they discovered Mrs.
Ellice almost dead with terror. Dragging her violently on deck, they
were about to cast her into the sea, when Buzzby, who stood with his
hands bound, suddenly burst his bonds and sprang towards her. A blow
from the butt of a pistol, however, stretched him insensible on the
deck.
"Where is my husband? my boy?" screamed Mrs. Ellice wildly.
"They've gone before you, or they'll soon follow," said a savage
fiercely, as he raised her in his powerful arms and hurled her
overboard. A loud shriek was followed by a heavy plunge. At the same
moment two of the men raised the captain, intending to throw him
overboard also, when a loud boom arrested their attention, and a
cannon-shot ploughed up the sea close in front of their bows.
While the fight was raging, no one had observed the fact that the breeze
had freshened, and a large man-of-war, with American colours, at her
peak, was now within gunshot of the ship. No sooner did the pirates make
this discovery than they rushed to their boats, with the intention of
pulling to their schooner; but those who had been left in charge, seeing
the approach of the man-of-war, and feeling that there was no chance of
escape for their comrades, or, as is more than probable, being utterly
indifferent about them, crowded all sail and slipped away, and it was
now hull-down on the horizon to leeward. The men in the boats rowed
after her with the energy of despair; but the Americans gave chase, and
we need scarcely add that, in a very short time, all were captured.
When the man-of-war rejoined the West Indiaman, the night had set in and
a stiff breeze had arisen, so that the long and laborious search that
was made for the body of poor Mrs. Ellice proved utterly fruitless.
Captain Ellice, whose wound was very severe, was struck down as if by a
thunderbolt, and for a long time his life was despaired of. During his
illness Fred nursed him with the utmost tenderness, and in seeking to
comfort his father, found some relief to his own stricken heart.
Months passed away. Captain Ellice was conveyed to the residence of his
sister in Grayton, and, under her care, and the nursing of his little
niece Isobel, he recovered his wonted health and strength. To the eyes
of men Captain Ellice and his son were themselves again; but those who
judge of men's hearts by their outward appearance and expressions, in
nine cases out of ten judge very wide of the mark indeed. Both had
undergone a great change. The brilliancy and glitter of this world had
been completely and rudely dispelled, and both had been led to inquire
whether there was not something better to live for than mere present
advantage and happiness--something that would stand by them in those
hours of sickness and sorrow which must inevitably, sooner or later,
come upon all men. Both sought, and discovered what they sought, in the
_Bible_, the only book in all the world where the jewel of great price
is to be found.
But Captain Ellice could not be induced to resume the command of his
old ship, or voyage again to the West Indies. He determined to change
the scene of his future labours and sail to the Frozen Seas, where the
aspect of every object, even the ocean itself, would be very unlikely to
recall the circumstances of his loss.
Some time after his recovery, Captain Ellice purchased a brig and fitted
her out as a whaler, determined to try his fortune in the Northern Seas.
Fred pleaded hard to be taken out, but his father felt that he had more
need to go to school than to sea; so he refused, and Fred, after sighing
very deeply once or twice, gave in with a good grace. Buzzby, too, who
stuck to his old commander like a leech, was equally anxious to go; but
Buzzby, in a sudden and unaccountable fit of tenderness, had, just two
months before, married a wife, who might be appropriately described as
"fat, fair, and forty," and Buzzby's wife absolutely forbade him to go.
Alas! Buzzby was no longer his own master. At the age of forty-five he
became--as he himself expressed it--an abject slave, and he would as
soon have tried to steer in a slipper-bath right in the teeth of an
equinoctial hurricane, as have opposed the will of his wife. He used to
sigh gruffly when spoken to on this subject, and compare himself to a
Dutch galliot that made more leeway than headway, even with a wind on
the quarter. "Once," he would remark, "I was clipper-built, and could
sail right in the wind's eye; but ever since I tuck this craft in tow,
I've gone to leeward like a tub. In fact, I find there's only one way of
going ahead with my Poll, and that is right before the wind! I used to
yaw about a good deal at first, but she tuck that out o' me in a day or
two. If I put the helm only so much as one stroke to starboard, she guv'
a tug at the tow-rope that brought the wind dead aft again; so I've gi'n
it up, and lashed the tiller right amid-ships."
So Buzzby did not accompany his old commander; he did not even so much
as suggest the possibility of it; but he shook his head with great
solemnity, as he stood with Fred, and Mrs. Bright, and Isobel, at the
end of the pier, gazing at the brig, with one eye very much screwed up,
and a wistful expression in the other, while the graceful craft spread
out her canvas and bent over to the breeze.