UNI Access BANCROFT LIBRARY > THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRICE, - - - oO CENTS. JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S Voyage BY GEORGE PAUL, GOFF ATTTHOR OF " SAN ANTONIO AND ENVIRONS," " TH HAUNTED ISLAND," "NICK BABA'S LAST DRINK," ETC. SAN FRANCISCO, CAI,. 1894- Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1893, by GKORGK P. GOFP in the office of the librarian of Congress at Washington. /. IO MY SAILOB BROTHER, HARRY N. MORSE. THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED. PAGE. Chapter I. How I Came into the World. 7 Chapter II. A Funeral 14 Chapter III. An Amateur Tramp 20 Chapter IV. I Fall into Bad Company 33 Chapter V. I Decide to be a Sailor 43 Chapter VI. Whales and other Things 53 Chapter VU. I Sign Articles 62 Chapter VIII. Off to Sea 71 Chapter IX. Boxing Ihe Compass , 80 Chapter X. The Ship's Carpenter 92 Chapter XI. -The Cook's Monkey 106 Chapter XII. The Fish Liar 119 Chapter XIII. A Storm at Sea 130 Chapter XIV. The Cook's Monkey again 138 Chapter XV. Chasing Whales 149 Chapter XVI. Capturing Whales 157 Chapter XVII. Cutting In 166 Chapter XVIII. Mysteries of the Sea 174 Chapter XIX. Whale-boats 182 Chapter XX. -Around Cape Horn 189 Chapter XXI. I am Promoted 199 Chapter XXII. Off for the Arctic 210 Chapter XXIII. Mermaids 217 Chapter XXIV. "There She Blows " 224 Chapter XXV. -In the Ice 230 Chapter XXVI. The Loss of the Peri 235 CHAPTER I. HOW I CAME INTO THE WORLD. THE story which I am going to tell is a part-of the events of my youth, when the cares and trials of human existence had settled down upon my broad shoulders, sending me forth upon the journey of life with but few years and no experience at all. I first saw the light in the great city of New York and came of well-born and well-bred parents, neither of whom inherited anything of this world's desirable things except energy, good manners, inde- pendence of character and industry. I had never seen my father except in a photograph, for reasons which will appear as this story progresses, but which to me were eminently satisfactory. The love and devotion of my mother to my father, and to his memory, was one of those beautiful episodes that belong to the scheme of matrimony, but alas, which seldom accompanies that theoretically blissful con- dition of life. She never tired of telling me all that concerned the author of my being, how he looked, how he carried himself, why I had never seen him, what he said, and much more that I do not think it important to relate at this time. In this way my love for him grew and increased into almost hero worship just from hearing his virtues 7 8 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S spoken of day and night from my earliest recol- lection. It was during the absence of my father, who was serving his enlistment in the armies of the war for the Union, that I was solemnly ushered into this breathing world. I had no agency in bringing myself here, and so became nolens volens a factor in the battle of human life a scheme which seems to me now to be fuller of thorns than of roses. My father was a small merchant at the time he enlisted, and had a thriving business, which, could he have devoted himself to it, would have made a competence in time and enabled him to have sup- ported his family in ease and comfort. The family comprised father, mother, and the humble individual who is telling this story. My father had good rea- son to believe when he departed for the seat of war that another member would be added to his family, and was apprised in due time by letter that a son had been born to him. That was all he knew about it, for he was killed in one of the first battles of that sanguinary fratricidal contest. My real name was not Quickstep, but on the con- trary quite a high sounding one, my father being descended from one of the old Knickerbocker fami- lies. But he was disgraced in the eyes of his aristo- cratic relatives, and cut off from family communion in consequence of having committed high treason by marrying my mother, who possessed his heart, and who was the one being in all the world to me, having patience, goodness, virtue, tact, education, WHALING VOYAGE. sweetness of temper and high moral attributes what more could blue-blood demand ? I got the name I bear from my father in a way that boys do not usually get names, and it came about in this way. As I said at the commencement of my story, my father, when the old flag was insulted, enlisted to serve through the war for the preservation of the Union, leaving all his worldly possessions behind as thousands of others did at the time. He was, as I have before stated, unfortu- nately for me and for my poor mother, killed in one of the first battles of that God-ordained struggle Well, as to the name I bear. When my father departed with his regiment for the seat of war he was only a high private, but a hero all the same a born soldier. He never lagged. He was always ready. When the command, " For- ward !" was given he jumped to his duty with the greatest alacrity, going wherever his officers led, and, for this reason, his comrades had given him the nickname of Quickstep a name that I was fonder of than I was of the blue-blooded one that had been flaunted in the face of my paternal parent, for disobedience and disloyalty to family. He accepted the name thus earned and seemed to like it. But , he was reported among the slain , doing duty in an engagement with the enemy, when it was whispered through the camp in tones of sad- ness that Johnnie Quickstep had been killed. My father was, under the nickname given him by his fellow-soldiers, frequently mentioned by 10 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S army correspondents for bravery and daring, so that all of his friends and neighbors at home knew who it was meant to compliment. He was always spoken of as Quickstep. This annoyed my mother immeasurably. She was a sensibly and sensitively proud woman, wrapped up in the career of her husband, and constantly endeavoring to have him known by the name he had given her at the altar, of which she was very fond. It was of no use, however, for the way in which he had acquired the name gave it the ring and fire of martial glory. When I became old enough to take my place in the ranks of the boys of the neighborhood, to take part in their games and to engage in the struggles that all boys must encounter, in order to gain first or second place and escape becoming a but, my name was Quickstep, Johnnie Quickstep, for the boys did not know my real name. This I resisted at first with all my might, principally on my mother's account, and many fights resulted from the attempt to fasten upon me the name which my mother felt to be a degradation. She felt too keenly that the name was a disgrace, and at the same time a well-grounded fear that the name given me by the boys, half in sport, half in ignor- ance of my real one, might stick to me through my whole life, which it did until my early man- hood. The more I fought against it, however, the more the boys heaped it on, until I was compelled to make a show of not caring, thinking that, perhaps, WHALING VOYAGE. 11 such a course might put an end to it; but it did not so work. It had gone on so long that I had partially forgotten my real name, and answered to that of Quickstep without feeling any sting, or even displeasure. After all, I argued with my mother, there is no taint attached to the name; it is signal of my father's patriotism, of his readiness to sacrifice everything by entering the ranks in defence of his country, and of his bravery in every battle in which he had participated. My mother merely sighed, and it ended in her tacit acceptance of the name a name that had been baptized in patriot blood. I began to like it the oftener I heard it. Its very sound quickened my blood. It was inspiriting; besides, it was emblem- atic of my father's devotion to the assailed flag of our country. I was a public school boy, and attended that greatest institution of our beloved land nntil I was twelve years of age. I was moderately quick to conquer the rudiments, but was obliged to leave school and go to work in order that I might assist my mother with what little I was able to earn. On enlisting for the war my father had abandoned his business, as did thousands and thousands of other patriots when the alarm was sounded that the Con- stitution was in danger, and, of course, my mother was left to struggle through my babyhood, and my early boyhood, which she did with the courage and devotion of a Roman matron, with a bare sufficiency for our absolute wants, she often denying herself 12 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S necessary things that I might make a creditable appearance among my playmates. My mother was a great and rapid reader. She read every book that she could lay her hands upon. As soon as I was old enough to comprehend, she placed useful and instructive books in my hands; encouraged me to read, herself leading the way, impressing always upon my mind the value and power of knowledge, thus developing whatever of latent power and appetite I may have had for study. Under her guidance and instruction I had read, before I was fourteen years of age, the works of Cooper, Maryatt, Dickens, Bulwer, Ainsworth, the Spectator, Rambler, Tattler, and many more authors that I cannot now recall. I had read, also, Moore, Bryant, " Paradise Lost/* the English Poets, "Robinson Crusoe," ' 'Gulliver's Travel's, ""Arabian Nights," " Pilgrims Progress," " Fox's Book of Martyrs," and had a fair acquaintance with Shaks- peare. 1 had not mastered all these, but had browsed, as it were, on this vast field of literature, absorbing some of the choicest bits from each, pick- ing up information here and there, and everywhere, thus sowing the seeds of ardent desire in the direc- tion of extensive reading. All this gave me an increased appetite for explor- ing the sources of knowledge, which I improved as I advanced to manhood. It was all stowed away in the lockers of memory, without order or plan, so far as I was then aware, when, all at once, I WHALING VOYAGE. 13 found myself in possession of a great fund of informa- tion, which grew systematically afterwards. My mother, at last, worn out in a constant strug- gle for existence, became enfeebled in health, and, after lingering along for a few years, died, with blessings on her lips for her orphan boy. She mourned with her latest breath that I should be cast out upon the cold world to battle alone with life; with none to encourage, to advise, or to guide me over the shoals of human endeavor. I had inherited good principles from both parents, and these had been fostered, sustained and strength- ened by the strong mind and admirable training of a loving mother. And so I started on my lone career with a strong conviction of the power of right, and the weakness of wrong doing. Besides, for a boy who had not had the advantages of thorough systematic schooling, I was quite learned so I thought at the time. But I have lived long enough now to know that the sum of human intelligence is but to realize that the more one knows , the more one becomes aware of how little one really does know, and it is a long time after a boy discards his round-jacket that this comes to him in its full force. ' CHAPTER II. A FUNERAL. THE night that my mother died I did not think that the record of all human woe could foot up any- thing to equal what I experienced as I saw her eyes closed in death I still think so. It was midnight in the dead of winter when she passed away. Just at the time she breathed her last there came a light fall of snow, the starry flakes descended as noise- lessly as spirits, settling gently as eiderdown, as though each one feared to crush the other, whiten- ing the earth, like a mysterious, silent messenger from that celestial home to which my angel mother had been called. The world was mantled in a film of the beautiful snow, so white, so pure, that it seemed to my boyish wrought-up feelings to have been sent to shroud the universe in light as an emblem of the lovely character of the mother I had lost. When she died we were very poor; some kind- hearted neighbors came in and took possession of our rooms, dressed the remains of my poor mother for the last sad rites, and the funeral took place, It was but a poor funeral : it lacked the parade and show of many such processions I had witnessed upon the streets ; it lacked the pomp of caparisoned 14 WHALING VOYAGE. 15 horses with black plumes nodding to the motion of their heads ; it lacked the pompous hearse with its blazonry of silver trimmings, and hangings of costly black velvet, but it was a real funeral, and meant more to me than if it had been consummated with all the pageantry of funeral folly it meant desola- tion to me. It left me homeless ; at sea without a compass : alone in a world I did not know. When the hard cold clods of earth sounded upon the coffin my heart seemed stricken with a sort of paralysis : it seemed that all which the whole world had contained for me had suddenly vanished; all else seemed value- less. When this saddest event was over I returned to the scanty apartments we had occupied together, broken hearted and desolate. One of my mother's friends, Miss Searson, a gentle, kind-hearted, sym- pathetic little body, came in to condole with me. This friend was a maiden lady, and was neither rich nor poor. She had a small income, sufficient for her frugal wants and something more, willed by a deceased father who had been dead for many years, leaving her without a relative in the world, so far as she knew. She was about sixty years of age, though still retaining a girlish form, and one of the sweetest, gentlest of her sex. She was of medium height, of a graceful embonpoint, blue eyes which gave her face a benign expression, and gray hair, almost white, w r hich she wore in the most graceful cork- JO JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S screw ringlets. To these she persistently clung because they were the mode when she was a girl. ''ressed plainly, but always in the most exquis- ite U The gossips said that she had been crossed in love in early life. I knew nothing about this, but if it were true it had left no harsh traces in her aged face. I know that she was good to me, and when she entered my desolate home the sunshine came with her. With the sweetest accent, which was balrri to my wounded spirit, she said : " Johnnie, what are you going to do ?" and she sat down beside rne in that confiding, inspiring way only to be done by a gentle woman. "God knows, Miss Searson, what can I do?" and I awaited her reply. " Well, you cannot remain here/' she answered, in an assuring way, " We will just see what there is here to be disposed of, and what it will bring if sold. You can make your home with me until you can look about and get something to do." With tears in rny eyes, and sobs in my throat I moaned : " Oh, Miss Searson, you are so kind, so good. 1 arn so heart-broken, so desolate. I will act as you tli ink best J should do." She made no reply, but turned her head away, and, as I observed, took her handkerchief from under her blouse and blew her nose as though she had a bad cold 1 always folieved that she used the handkerchief to dry her tears on that occasion. WHALJKG VOYAGE. 17 Upon making an inventory of what might be turned into money we happened upon a small c looking package done up in straw matting. It had ntly been hidden away, as we found it in an obscure corner of an unused clo- *. L'nder the straw matting was a piece of old, worn-out carpet, and under this a piece of black cotton cloth, the whole bound with a strong cord. When these wrappings were all rernov remained a small odd-looking earthen jar having a convenient slit for the admission of money. We broke it open and found that it contained enough to defray the ex] the modest funeral. The proceeds of the sale of the t Searson g her to keep it in part pay- ment for my board and lodging, which she finally .nted to do. rnained with this generous friend for a hs and then departed, as will be be- after. So, many times in after years, when I ha/1 become a rover of the sea, wave-tossed and sick at heart, I hav t of this good woman, and always connected her with my dead mother. I I into rny cheerless bunk in the foul- smel- ,ke-clouded forecastle, nor turned out of it, that the remembrance and | of both did not seem to li^ and guide me, to a use- ful manhood. I was always fond of reading .stories of the sea^ and of ships and sailors. The subject had a charm for me a fascination I could not resist. Often and 18 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S t)ften when I had a holiday, and that was not a frequent event in my life, I would go to the docks and gaze in rapt admiration, not unmixed with awe, at the tall masts and intricate rigging, sway- ing to the sluggish undulations of the stagnant tide in the docks, against a background of dingy brick warehouses, the glory of whose brilliant red had faded out years ago to the arbitrary demands of time. I used to look upon the sailors, in their outlandish dress and rolling gait, and wonder if they were like other men and lived in houses, and had moth- ers and sisters, and wives and children. And when they struck up their peculiar singing, which seemed to make everything move, tugging at ropes, or stowing away merchandise , which came to the ship on giant trucks, into the mysterious depths of the hold under the hatches, I felt certain that they must have come from Neptune's domain to do this special work, work which could not be done by people who had been born on shore and who live under a roof, and eat with knives and forks. This all grew upon me, and gradually the idea came to me that I wanted to be a sailor and go to far dis- tant lands, where giants, and cannibals, and naked savages, and other strange things exist, and of which I had read so much. The determination was gradually taking posses- sion of me that I must be a sailor; that I must become the captain of a ship, and pace up and down the quarter-deck as I had seen them do while I had WHALING VOYAGE. 19 been idling about the docks, half determining upon, half shrinking from, a life which seemed so closely connected with the silent depths of the great oceans. I conjured up pictures of Robinson Crusoe sur- rounded with his goats ; climbing up into his habi- tation when he wanted to go to bed, and drawing his ladder up after him in order to escape having his bones picked by savages. My memory repro- duced those footprints in the sand, that cannibal feast, and the man Friday, bowing his face to the sand in adoration for, and devotion to, the strange being with a white skin who had rescued him from the cannibals. My dreams were all of ships and sailors. I saw sailors at the docks, on the ocean, aloft, spreading the white wings of commerce over deeply laden hulls hulls stored full of the products of my own country, and pushing their speeding prows out into, and through distant seas, into for- eign lands, to return burdened with the commodi- ties of those countries. I felt that I was born to be a sailor, and I became one. CHAPTER III. AN AMATEUR TRAMP. A FEW days after I had become an inmate of Miss Searson's home I started out to look for work. The situation I had filled before my mother's death was no longer open to me, for the reason that busi- ness had become very slack, when I was discharged, not from any delinquency on my part, but because I was the last boy who had been taken on, and that to me seemed perfectly just and fair. At last I found an opportunity to go to a small town in a neighboring state, about a hundred miles from New York, and apprentice myself to a manu- facturer of hats. I had always felt a great interest in hat-making, and used to stand in front of a hat factory, on my way to and from the public school which I attended, and watch the men as they worked around the steaming kettle of hot water. I used to watch them taking unmeaning bunches of wool, and cotton, and some sort of fur, and gradually form these materials into the semblance of a hat. In those days apprentice boys were not consid- ered much above the condition of the house-dog, and all sorts of indignities were put upon them. This was the discipline of my new place; drudgery, not 20 WHALING VOYAGE. 21 hatmaking, was the rule for the first year, and I was obliged to submit to it or take French leave. All this did not suit my impatient disposition. It was too much like slavery, and for merely board and clothes the clothing consisting of the cast-off gar- ments, and the board whatever might be left from the master's table. It was too slow, to say nothing of the degradation of the position. I was anxious to do something, to go somewhere, and so the old romance of the sea was constantly pushing other things aside. A perpetual longing to be on ship- board took possession of my whole being, and, while I had not yet resolved to follow that mode of life , the haunting determination was forming all the same with adamantine firmness. There was one thing: I was going to be a man to make a man of myself, and there was nothing in the surroundings of the hat-shop that could ever lead to that. I felt a modest confidence in being able to take care of myself indeed, I know now, that I had, what the most of boys are gifted with, an inordinate amount of confidence, considering my pecuniary helplessness. My wages, as I said before, was my board and clothes, when I could get any, with an occasional small amount of money, which, however, I earned outside of my regular duty. One morning my employer observed me idling about and wanted to know why I was not at my work, applying an offensive name to me. 22 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S "> good and bad: men whose better instincts had been eradicated by the rigors of sea life: men whose early life had been spent with loving companions in the domestic circle, and who wanted but half a chance to return to the sweet precepts of home, and men who had resigned themselves into the toils of the devil, and to whom hope was an unknown word. Ned Ricks was the man who came into the fore- castle and stood at my bunk when I was disconso- late. He was a curious physical compound, and seemed to have been made up of odds and ends, as it \vere, all of which gave him not only an incon- gruous look but a sinister one. He stood about five feet eight inches, not power- fully made, but sinewy and strong as a lion, which strength, however, was never exerted except in the line of his duty. His language was about the same as that of other sailors, except, that he never spiced it with profanity, he having had otherwise no ad- vantages of education over his fellows. I am going to be very precise about his personal appearance, because, from the time I joined the ship he evidenced a friendship for me, determining to be my friend, even after I had 'on several oc- casions almost driven him from me. As I said, he stood about five feet eight, and one leg was something longer than the other, the long- est one bowing out from the short one as a sort of compensatio^ in locomotion; he had but one eye, the other he had lost in some way not discreditable to himself, as he told me; his hair was red, or had ? ?, . ':. Y 96 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S been before it came out, and what was left of it formed a ring extending from one ear to the other, leaving the entire top part of his head as smooth and polished as a mirror. His skin had been fair, as the color of his hair indicated, but it was so covered with great black freckles, and so tanned and weatherbeaten as to be about the color of seasoned mahogany. From his appearance the crew, to a man, had taken a violent dislike to him, and, in a short time after the ship's company was mustered he was shunned merely on account of his untoward appearance. Some one of the men, with that aptitude that boys and sailors have for finding one's weak spot, had nicknamed him Old Baldy. Ned Ricks was a sensitive man for one whose life had been passed in the rough-and-tumble chances of the forecastle. He knew he was not like other people, that he was ill-favored, about half made up, and, consequently, he was reserved, shy, keeping himself aloof from his fellows as much as possible. There was something about his whole appearance, even to me, uncanny. His baldness was peculiar. It was not so much that he was bald, as that when his head was un- covered, which happened only when he turned into his bunk, or when a sudden gust unceremoniously lifted his hat from his head, his face had, somehow, the appearance of a corpse waiting to be placed upon a grating and launched overboard. Besides all this, if the mast cracked, as it felt the WHALING VOYAGE. 97 weight of the wind and sails, it was an omen. If St. Elmo's fire appeared on the yardarms, or trucks, it was an omen, and so on through all the infinitude of sights and sounds known to sailors who believe in such things. Despite all these drawbacks, as 1 became well ac- quainted with him, he was to me honest-hearted, upright, sincere, sensible and honorable; altogether a man to make ones heart rejoice to have for a friend. One very singular thing, which I have hitherto omitted, considering his general deformity, the rough life he had lived, the gales and hard usage he had gone through, was, that his voice was low and sweet, having somewhat the tremulousness of a woman's. Since the time he came down into the forecastle, when I was discouraged and sick of life , I had never ceased to regret that I had been so uncivil and unmanly to him. Having completely recovered from the cowardly spell which actuated me at that time, I had resolved to stand up like a man to the life I had chosen. Since that resolve I had been taking an intense interest in the working of the ship, and in everything pertaining to seamanship. As yet I had not been put to do anything very hazardous: One morning, about four bells, A. M. , I was stand- ing a little aft of the main rigging and looking out over the port quarter into a darkness so dense that (7) 98 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S it completely enveloped the ship. The Peri was leaving a streak of fire in her wake; nothing was visible in the heavens except the stars, so far dis- tant as to seem like tracings of planished silver worked upon a ground of celestial blue. Ned and I were in the same watch, and of course both on deck. I saw him last, up forward, sitting on the windlass as motionless as a statue. We were booming along, with a good stiff breeze coming over the starboard quarter, and with everything braced taut to port. Not a sound could be heard save the cat-like tread of the watch, the creak of the wheel as the steersman turned the spokes a port or a starboard; the chafing and straining of the rigging, the rattle of a block, the rippling sound of a slack rope play- ing against a spar, and the washing sound of the sea as the speed of the vessel tumbled it into froth and bubbles. I heard the sound of bare feet pattering lightly on the deck, and, turning, met Ricks square in the face. He accosted me in his gentle voice. " How aire ye feelin', Quickstep, I hope ye 're a feelin' better nor when I see ye in the fok'sle ? " " Yes, thanks, Ned, I am in a better mood, and determined not to get in the dumps again. I am very sorry that I treated you so badly when you came to my bunk, and I want to tell you so." He said nothing for a few seconds, and then answered: " Don't mind it, my lad. I'm used t' it. Ye see, WHALING VOYAGE. 99 Quickstep, I don't lack -sense ; what I mean for to say is, that ere kind o' sense as comes o' experence an* not o' edicashun. I ses, I'm a odd lookin' bein', and no* b'dy don't keer for me. Cause why ? Cause I'm not made up to the likes o' other men, an* they langhs at me," and here he hesitated awhile, but continued in his soft voice : " But, my lad, I've a heart as is true blue, an' I wants to be yer friend." " I want you to be my friend, Ned," I answered, struck with the kindness of his manner, " for you know that I am only a greenhorn." He took one of my hands between his great palms and pressed it with more feeling than could have been expressed in words, though those words were uttered with all the eloquence of studied rhetoric, saying: * ' Ye '11 want 'er friend afore this here vyage is up, belike." This was said so quietly, so gently, that the creak of a single block , the rippling of a sail would have drowned it. I listened and wondered what freak of nature had created this man's make up, so un- gainly, so hideous even, but so fully compensated with a bird-like voice, and so at variance with the lifetime experience he must have had. " Thank you, Ned, for the interest you take in me," I replied, " and I accept you for a friend with all my heart. There is so much that I don't know, and that I must learn, in which you can assist me." " Why," he answered in a pleased way, which I 100 - JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S could only guess from the tone of his voice, for I had never seen the grimness of his features relax into a smile for a moment, " I kin larn ye all about er ship from keelson to royal masthead." " I am sure of it," I answered, when he contin- ued, " I ain't agoin' for ter say nothin' agin' no b'dy, 'cause that's not me. But there's many a man aboard er this here craft as don't know tile fore- royal-stay from the foretopmast-stay , nor the keelson from the foreroyal-truck." " They can learn," I suggested. " Yes, o' course they kin larn, an ef any on' em gits in trouble, I ses, let 'em call on Ned Ricks an he'll git em out." And so we used to chat and yarn every night when we were on deck together, and it was not long under such training before I knew every rope, every sail, and every stick and spar in the ship. But the compass puzzled me , and we walked up and down the deck discussing the mystic compass and other matters. "Quickstep," commenced Ned suddenly, as if an idea had struck him, "ye ain't bin aloft yit, heve ye? " No, not yet," I answered; " but I shall not mind that, I can do that well enough after a few trials." ' ' In course ye kin. It's as easy as goin' up stairs in a house when yer used ter it." " Oh, I can do it," I said, with much confidence, though not more than I felt, " but what puzzles me WHALING VOYAGE. 101 most is the reading of the compass. I cannot un- derstand it at all. Tom Krekit has been trying to teach me, but my head is as thick as a butcher's block." ' ' That's the easiest part o' sailorisin' I ses. Jes begin at no the, and keep goin roun till ye git no the agin: an then ye takes yer half pints, an yer quarter pints, an thair ye are." " That's the way Krekit said it," I answered, "and I suppose I shall learn it I will learn it." We had many talks over the compass and its difficulties to me, on our night watches, Ned al- ways insisting that it was, as he so often expressed it, " as easy as eaten o' a plum duff." One day the second mate, (it was his trick at the wheel,) was trying to make me understand the mysteries of the binnacle-box. He turned the wheel down two spokes, and turned it back one, alternately looking at the card and up at the sails, with an occasional glance astern, when the whole thing came to me like a flash I saw the working of it as if by inspiration. I remembered never to have been so much grati- fied before but once, and that was after months and months of effort to tell the time of day by the clock. That too, came to me, just as the secret of the compass did, while standing with the second mate. I was overjoyed and fairly danced with excite- ment. As soon as I was relieved I ran straight to tell Ned of my progress in " sailorisin," as he 102 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S called it. He was as much pleased as myself over it. He was engaged worming a rope, and when I told him of my success, he dropped his work, put his left hand upon his left hip, then put the other hand on his right hip and broke out into extrava- gant praises, saying: " I know'd ye'd larn it, I know'd ye'd larn it, cause yer's a lad o' oncommon sense/' Just then the mate came up and ordered him to some other duty. He went off, his grim face not changing a muscle, repeating, as long as I could hear his voice, ' ' I know'd ye'd larn it. " Ned Ricks and I were companions whenever we were on watch, and I further learned from his con- versation that he was full of the superstitions of the sea. He knew all the sea lore which sailors trade with each other. Indeed, I may say that he was learned in all those things which shake one's common sense when one becomes a seaman if one is not pretty well balanced. . One morning, right after breakfast, when we were all engaged washing down the decks and looking, in our ragged, patched and variegated clothing, as if we had just escaped from some cor- rectional institution, Ned asked me in a lower tone than usual : "Johnnie, did you hear them gulls last night over the main-mast head. " " No, I heard nothing, what do you mean 2 " " Why, I allow thet when them ere gulls is a flying to the shore it means there's goin ter be WHALING VOYAGE. 103 a ship wreck, or a accident. An when ye sees em a-settin on the water a-chatterin an a-chatterin, an flirtin' the water aroun* ther'll be somethin what's onnatural. I hearn 'em last night when we was a talkin by the corner o' the galley, an afore many days soin' thin i'll happen." He said this in his quiet way, and went on with his work. That set me to thinking, and then I remembered reading somewhere : " Seagull, seagull, sit on the sand, It's never good weather when you're on the land." Then I repeated it, and asked Ned if he had ever heard it. " No, I never heerd it, but I knows as ther'll be som'thin' happenin 5 when the gulls is goin ashore, and I heerd 'em a flyin' across the ship over the top- mast head." Of course I never believed such stuff, and yet it is a difficult thing to divest one's mind of a certain amount of belief, especially when uttered with all the appearance of honesty, as Ned uttered it. The day after this conversation, although I laughed at him, there did something happen. All at once the cry rang out, " Man overboard." Now, that cry is one which penetrates at once to one's very marrow. It is a cry of despair, ring- ing from one end of the ship to the other, meaning that a shipmate, one of God's creatures, has been hurled into the ocean there to battle for his life. I know of nothing that equals the intensity of the cry " man overboard," except the one of 104 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S "Fire ! " sounded on shipboard. Poe's description of the-fire bells is akin to it, where each clangs out that the devouring flame is leaping higher, higher. In reading it one can almost hear the crackling tim- bers, and see the homes of startled dwellers melting away before the fork-tongued demon whose appe- tite is only appeased in the ashes of consumed human habitations. The captain sprang out of his cabin at the cry, and all hands were on deck in a moment looking aft; the captain shouted the necessary orders, and every man was at his post. The life-buoy was let go, the helm ported, the boat cleared away, the courses hauled up, the fore- yard hauled aback, heaving the vessel to. The boat was over and manned in a few moments, the men putting all their strength upon the oars. In- side of a half hour the man was brought on board with nothing worse than a bad fright and a wet jacket. It appeared that a seaman standing in the main chains, more for bravado than for any- thing he had to do there, lost his balance and tumbled into the sea. He confessed that he was much frightened and thought he was a goner. The helm was righted, the courses let down, and as the ship fell away the yards swung around, the helmsman meeting the ship to the trim of the sails. This occasion was the first one on which the captain showed what he. might be capable of in the way of discipline. As the man alighted on deck, the WHALING VOYAGE. 105 water dripping from his clothing, the captain roared out : "What were you doing out there, you lubberly matelot f Why were you not on deck doing your duty ? I've a great mind to make you straddle the fore to'gallant yard for half a day," and calling for the mate he ordered : " Mr. Ryder, punish this man; put him where he cannot see the deck for a week," and walked away to his cabin. After the excitement was over, Ned approached me, saying: ' ' I told ye somethun was a-goin ter happen didn't I?" The last words were added as if he had some doubt of whether the accident was grave enough for a convincing example. "Yes, you did. But it was nothing a good wetting, and touching the captain's temper off- the man was not drowned, and had a good swim." "He might a bin drownded, only there wasn't gulls enough flew over the mast-head," replied Ned. CHAPTER XI. PROBABLY the strangest thing that ever happened , in making up a crew, was the shipping of a monkey on board of the Peri. Jabo was the name of the monkey, and it belonged to Pedro the cook. It was of the ring- tail species, which has the power of hanging by its tail, just as though it had another hand , thus rendering it capable of using both hands while holding on by its prehensile member. The animal had been brought from some port where the cook had been, when it was a baby, and had become a pet which its master could not live without, it accompanying him wherever he went . on land or on sea. The shipping master, making up the crew of the Peri, refused to let the monkey go on board ship, and Peclro as persistently refused to go without Jabo. So the matter stood umtil it was agreed, for the cook was well. known to the whaling fraternity as a first-rater, that he might take his pet with him , and in this way Jabo became a part of the crew, and entitled to his rations. The cook was a full blooded-negro, born some- where in North Carolina, and an immense man in his proportions. He was tall, straight as an arrow, 106 WHALING VOYAGE. 107 and his shoulders, from the outside of one upper arm to the outside of the other, were fully four feet. His limbs were immense, and his strength phenomenal. In fact, he was a Hercules in pro- portions and strength. His intellect was not of the brightest sort, yet he was no fool. His countenance was refreshing to look upon by reason of the habitual radiance of smile, disclosing teeth of regularity, and glistening white, which illuminated his shining, black, but regular features. He was generally liked by officers and crew, and this had been so in every cruise he had made. This, also, was why the monkey had been admitted to the ship as his companion. His pare blood, bright eyes, and uniformly radiant face had been a passport to all the voyages he had made. Pedro did his duty right along without running foul of anybody. But there was one peculiarity in his character, which was dangerous when he felt that he had been badly treated, wronged or abused, and that was, that a demon seemed to actuate him completely. -uch times his thick and pouting lips shrank to almost the thinness of a knife-blade, his teeth seemed twice as large as usual, much whiter, and many more of them, -his complexion took on an ashy hue, and his eyes snapped with wrath at such times, which was not often, woe to the man who had wronged him. Jabo became in a short time a pet of the crew, 108 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S being welcomed in any part of the ship except in the cabin, for the captain disliked monkeys. Jabo spent the greater part of the time in and about the galley, watching his master prepare and cook the rations with as much interest apparently as though he were human. Pedro talked and joked with him just as though he were so, and the monkey un- derstood all that was said to him. The pet monkey would sit there waiting for some nice morsel which Pedro had saved for him, and, indeed, the pet was treated with an attention and affection that was the very tip-top of devotion. But, as every animal has some weak place in its nature, including man, the pampered pet had his share of frailty. One of Jabo's acquirements, or, rather, a natural trait, was quite human he was a thief. He would sit in the galley watching Pedro, busy about his duties, occasionally getting a rich morsel of food, looking as amiable, as sanctimonious as though he never had an evil thought indeed, as if he were the soul of honesty. All of a sudden, without any warning he would grab a piece of something, perhaps a part of what had been prepared for the captain's table, and, escaping in the most human way, would bounce up the main rigging and out onto the lower yard, grasp the foot-rope with his tail, and swing there in all the ecstacy of spoliation. Jabo knew, as well as his human cousin germain would know, that he had done wrong, but his WHALING VOYAGE. 109 master was forgiving, as he also knew; and when he thought it was time to return and get a scold- ing in place of a beating, he would descend, and enter the galley with the funniest hypocritical ex- pression on his face. It was extremely droll, it was so human. These tricks were repeated, but always ended in forgiveness by Pedro and reformation by the mon- key, until the brute was tempted again, when the same thing was repeated forgiveness and all. Revelling in this leniency, Jabo had become a con- firmed kleptomaniac, helping himself to whatever was eatable, no matter to whom it belonged. Well, hitherto the brute had confined his depre- dations to the galley; but there came a time when he was tempted too far, which, however, Was the cause of a most complete reformation. He had put his paw into a pannikin be- longing to one of the men, running off with a bit of choice salt-horse , which happened that day to be of extra quality and flavor, and, running up the rigging as usual, enjoyed the treat with both hands and paws, using his tail to the usual advantage. When he thought it had all been forgotten for, though monkeys refuse to speak, for their own purposes, they are right fair thinkers he came down from aloft, went into the galley, and, finding everything peaceful there, made an excursion to the forecastle. The men had finished their dinner, and were yarning and playing pranks on each other. 110 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S The man who had lost the salt-horse from his pannikin Frenchy, the men called him had sworn vengeance against the thief. Jabo was sit- ting with his rump on one of the sea-chests, and his tail uncurled and laid out lengthwise on the chest. Frenchy slipped up behind him, drew his sheath knife from his belt, and chopped off about two inches of the monkey's tail, destroying its prehen- sile quality, saying, in his broken English, ' ' By gar, ze monkey no steal my horse encore." Jabo bounded up the forecastle ladder and into the galley howling and pleading. Pedro soon saw what the matter was, and a shade of anger crossed his face, completely obliterating the usual smile. He did not let Jabo go out of his sight, but kept him fastened in the galley until the wound healed up. It soon became known who had cut Jabo's tail off, and Pedro vowed he would get even. Jabo soon got well and about, and the very first thing he did was to make off with some pastry pre- pared for the captain's table, and up to the yard- arm he flew, slung his tail over the footrope and let go with both hands. But the holding power of his tail was gone, and he came down onto the deck, striking on his head, and in his fright letting the pastry go scattering over the deck. He got upon his feet, and stood there for a few seconds with the most perfect look of human disappointment and astonishment it is possible to imagine. However, he was a reformed monkey from that WHALING VOYAGE. Ill time. He had lost confidence in his tail, and the safety of refuge, and from that time forward he was as honest as a condoned bank defaulter, never touching a thing that was not given to him. He was so penitent that I used to look at him and -wonder whether mankind had not, under some system, of evolution, been deprived of the tail for some such reason. The crew had taken Jabo into fellowship again since his reformation, including Frenchy, making much of him, and, consequently, he was more fre- quently among the sailors. Pedro, however, although he had an honest monkey, had not for- given Frenchy for his share in the monkey's reformation. He had it in for Frenchy, as the sailors say, and that led to ill-feeling between the two, which was, however, for a time smothered, like the banked fires under a steamer's boiler, to be fired up when occasion required. It was in the first dog watch on a Sunday, when the greater part of the crew was lolling about the deck, forward of the forecastle, spinning yarns, singing, dancing, fiddling, and chaffing each other as only sailors can do. This chaffing is often rough, coarse and personal sometimes profane. Jabo was sitting on the windlass as demure and intent as though he were the judge of the propriety of what was going on. His half human face had that quiet repose so characteristic of the simian tribe a look of wisdom that evolution might refine into speech. There he sat upright, in one 112 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S position, never stirring, but watching the motions of the men. Could the beast have laughed, he might have been accepted as a diminutive wild man just returning to the possession of faculties long dormant. Ben Bosun was in the party. Ben was one of those salts who belonged to the old school of mar- iners, with but one modern idea, and that was, that he swore " Scatter my rivets," in place of "Shiver my timbers," claiming that there were no timbers in the iron ships now afloat to shiver. Ben's face was round and plump, his hair grey and cut short, and his whiskers had been trained to grow from one ear to the other , touching no part of his face, and it was difficult to decide whether his throat or chin could claim that hairy adornment. Ben was an aristocrat among the men, that is, they all looked up to him as a superior sort of sailor- man, going to him for advice and making him the umpire in all their disputes. If both persons de- clined to abide by his decision, why, he just turned in and mauled both of them. Ben was regarded by the crew as being somewhere between forward and aft, not quite big enough for aft, and too big for the forecastle, and, in his way, an oracle. Whatever Ben decided to be so, was the belief of the forecastle, and often the law of that realm beneath the heel of the bowsprit. One of the sailors, one Chain, started a new topic by saying: " I'm blow'd ef I dont ble've that ere bloomin' monkey knows every word what we're a WHALING VOYAGE. 113 sayin', and ef he could talk, the cap'n 'ud put him ter greasin' down the mast, quicker 'n lightnin." " That's all fol-de-rol," said Jack Staples, " afore a animal kin understand, he's 'bliged to have er soul, and this ere monkey, he ain't got nary one." " Why couldn't he have not nary a one," asked Chain, with a look intended to convince Staples, "I've hearn tell, the t afore ships hed decks an' fok'sles an' all that, thousands o' years ago, ef a man went ded his soul'd shift quarters to the carcas o' a animal." " Well, that's all rot," answered Staples, with some heat, " an' we'll leave it ter Bill Bosun fur ter decide, a twixt us. Wot de say, Bill?" " Look a here, my lads, "commenced Bill, looking as solemn as a statesman having some question of statecraft propounded to him, and answering cau- tiously: "Ye see, my hearties," and turning his quid over several times, as though that were the key to the combination to put his wits in order, de- livered himself of the following: " Shipmates, I don't purtend to know what it pleased the Creator of all things to do, but," and here he mouthed his tobacco again, " what's ther matter uv Him what made the hull world , puttin' of a ded man's soul in- ter a anirnal's body ef He seen fit? Now,takin' thet there view of it, there's nothin' onpossible in't es I kin see. An so, as Chain ses, this here mon- key's ugly body mought be the fok'sle war som'- body's soul is stowed away." (8) 114 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S The men cried out in chorus, except Staples, who could not swallow any such theory. ' ' That's so. Bill , he knows. " When that oracle continued, having rolled his quid over, in order to collect his ideas, " Ye see, my bullies, when thet ere man was ded, in course he couldn't speak not no more, an his woice went along o' his body just as the bells o' his watch ringed him out. Ye see, agin, thet ef the woice o' thet ere ded man had 'er bl'nged to his soul, an not to his body, I 'low thet this ere mon- key 'ud speak, an hev ter stan' watch along with the rest o' us. " "I know'd I was right," exclaimed Chain, "cause why, 'cause it stans to reason, es Bill ses, thet ef er man was ded, then his voice was ded, and his soul could go war it was sont to." " I aint a d'sputen wot Bill ses," replied Staples, a bit angry because all were against him, " ' cause he's got edicashun, an thets wot I aint got; but what 's the use o' sendin the soul o' a ded man inter a animal, an not sendin the woice along uv it." " That's 'cause ye don't onderstan' Scrip tur an sich things," answered Chain. "Well, Idon'tbl'eveit." " Why, ye swab," insisted Chain, " ain't Bill sed so, what more d' ye want." " Don't call me a swab, "angrily retorted Staples, "anyhow, I'd ruther be a swab nor a sojer, fur that's what ye air, an the ship's crew knows it." " Ye dirty swab," retorted Chain savagely, put- WHALING VOYAGE. 115 ting himself in a fighting attitude, " ef I was cap'n o' this ere ship I'd hevye spread-eagled, an then hev ye lashed to the dolphin striker an give ye a bath." The two men started for each other, and the monkey, which had been the innocent cause of it all, scampered away with a gait between a skip and a run, seeking refuge in the galley. There was a prospect of a row, and Bill, seeing it coming, jumped between the men, saying in a con- ciliatory tone: " Awast there, shipmates, ev'ry man kin bl'eve what he wants to, an ev'ry man kin onbl'eve what he wants to, an ef ye intend ter do any fightin' here, then I 'low I'll take a hand, an ef I does ye'll both feel the heft o* my maulers, I ses, ye're both on ye in the right one way, an both on ye're wrong tother way. Wot d' ye say, my lads ? " said Bill appealing to the crew . " Why, ye're jist what Bill ses, an thet's it," was the combined answer. This restored amity, and, after a few moments, Bill commenced: <( Now, my hearties, along o' that ere monkey I'll give ye a yarn wot ev'ry word's truer 'n preachin. All hands surrounded the speaker anxious to hear his yarn, when Staples walked up to Chain, extended his great paw toward that person, saying: " You an me ain't no enemies, aire we ? " " Right ye aire," replied Chain, " ony, ev'ry 116 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S man's 'titled to his own 'pinion, ef he is ony a fok'slehand." "That's so, shipmate," answered Staples, and, turning to Ben, bawled out : " Were a listenin', Ben." "Oncte, a good many years ago," commenced Bosun, " I hed a shipmate as his name was Frank Devens. He was one o' the best chantey men I ever heerd at a windlass bar, an he wasn't no com- mon old matelot, nuther. He was the son o' a genle'- man an' come inter the fok'sle cause he liked it, not cause he had 'ter, like us fellers right here. He talked jist like a book, 'cause he read all the books in the world, an' he know'd ev'ry thing in the world. He edicated me, an I'm proud o' him. ' ' He used ter spin er yarn what he called the cat- woman; 't was about a young gal as used ter turn herself into a cat. ' ' He says to me one night we was in the same watch Ben, ses he, ef ye had all the money in the world, what would ye do with it ? " " This was a stumper, 'cause I wasn't a 'ristocrat an' I didn't know much 'bout high livin 'cept salt- horse an the like a' that; but I hove to, an ses I, what would I do ef I had all the money in the world ? Why, I'd buy all the rum an all the terbaecer." " Frank, he looked at me with a consarned kind o' smile, an ses he, thet wouldn't spend all the money; what would ye do wi' the rest on 't ? Why, ses I, a thinkin I'd be in clover, I'd buy more rum." " Giv' us the cat- woman yarn, Ben," struck up WHALING VOYAGE. 117 several of the men, " afore ye git all that ere rum stowed under ye r hatches." " I blVe I'm gittin a bit out o' my course, pr'hps a pint or two. Howsumever," explained Bill, " I'll give ye the yarn 'thout deviatin' agin. " " Frank's father give him more money 'en this ere fok'sle 'nd hold what's under us, more 'en a thousand dollars ; an' Frank he went out inter Ohio for to buy a ile well. "It was in one 'er them ere places war the natives live all winter by cheatin each other, an' in the summer time they combines an cheats the greenhorns what comes ter buy ile land. ' ' In the house war Frank lived out there was two gals what was the darters uv the man what kep' the boardin' house. No matter war Frank was , one o' them gals was clost to him. The door mought be locked, an the winders shot down tight; but thar was that ere gal all the same, inter the room, and she must 'er come throo the keyhole leastwise thet's what Frank thot. "It wasn't not no matter what Frank^was a doin of, with the doors an winders shot tighter nor a ship's hatches in a storm, thar was that ere gal a' lookin right over his shoulder, an, when he turned roun' thair was nothin thar, 'cept the tail o' a cat a-goin' throo the winder 'thout injurin' o' the glass. ".Frank, he bot a gun an he lay fur the thing, whatever it mought be, not a thinkin as it was mor'n a cat; an one night, about eight bells, Frank sees two big eyes a ttamin in the corner o' the room, 118 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S an behind em wus a big black animal a switchin of its tail like it was mad. Frank grappled onto his gun, an, as the thing 'scaped throo the keyhole, he let fly, an, es soon es the gun went off the hull fambly cum a runnin ter see what was the matter; an thet ere cat was transmogrified inter that ere gal, an she was a lay in' in the back yard with a bullet-hole jist aft o' er starboard breast, an' the blood a streamin out. " Staples gave a long whistle, Chain looked per- plexed, and I tried to look as if I believed it. Chain spoke up, saying: " Thar's one thing I wants for to ax ye. Was thar any o' the hair o' that cat a stickin to the key- hole ? " Ben, without answering the question, said: " Ev'ry man kin ble've what he wants ter, an ev'ry man kin onble've wot he wants ter. " C'HAPTER XII. THE FISH LIAR. William Marson, a boa tsteerer on board the Peri , was yet a young man, being about twenty -five, who had made several whaling voyages before the mast, and, being well known as an efficient and good sailor, had been shipped as above, and that was his first promotion. He was a native of the State of New York, hav- ing been born in one of the small towns in the interior of that State, where he had passed his life, until he was about seventeen years of age, upon his father's farm, so that he was used to hard labor. He was a level-headed fellow, and when asked why he preferred the hard life of a seaman , rather than that of a farmer, explained in this way : " Farming," said he, " even when one owns the land, is not only a laborious and exacting occupa- tion , but an uncertain one , also. Machinery , in this as in other pursuits, has taken the place of manual labor, and the man who depends upon agricultural labor as a means of gaining a living is out of employment for at least half of the year. A reap- ing, mowing, or threshing machine will do the work of a whole county, and take the place of 119 120 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S many men who otherwise would be employed the year round. " There can be no competition by hand labor with machinery, and so it becomes a measure of economy with the employing farmer in two ways. First, he saves money by employing the machine, which does its work in a short time, rather than men at so much per day: and in securing his crops is not sub- ject to combinations of laborers, changes of weather and other vicissitudes which surround the old system of hand labor. " Besides, there is a tameness in the life of a farm hand which is irksome to an intelligent, active, ambitious youngster. The hum-drum of such a life is unbearable, and this is why the young men of rural populations are deserting the occupation of their fathers and flocking to the large cities in search of fortune. This, of course, crowds the ranks of unskilled labor in the large cities of our country , and, one of the outlets of this crowded condition is the sea, with its presumed poetry, but actual hardship. " Aside from these causes, young men are often impatient of the restraints of home, and seek a broader fieldj in which to develope their faculties: they do not take kindly to the beaten track laid out by former generations, but desert and swell the ranks of the unemployed in the great marts of labor. " If a farmer, in some of the Eastern States, owns a farm of from seventy-five to one hundred acres, over one half of it is outcropping rock, producing nothing. The summers are short, the winters long, WHALING VOYAGE. 121 and the farmer with a homestead has literally to wrest a living from the soil." This was all said in a tone of earnest conviction, and in fair language considering the opportunities Marson had had. It was uttered in a slow and deliberate manner, as we huddled beneath the shad- ow of the hen-coop one night in the middle watch. I liked this shipmate very much, as we were about the same age that is, in boyish ways, though not in years and many were the talks we have had in the solemn darkness of our watches, and many were the yarns he would spin to the men in the forecastle in idle hours and on holidays. At home, before he became a sailor, Marson had filled in the intervals of labor with the sport of fish- ing and gunning, in which he had become, as he claimed, an expert. He knew all the haunts of the wily trout and black bass, of which he was very proud and talkative. He was a good sailor and a cool determined hand in fastening to a whale, when the dare-devil in his nature seemed to develope for the contest. Marson was a good, honest, manly fellow; but his weak spot was his ability to fabricate big stories about his prowess in fishing and hunting, more espe- cially of fishing, in which he claimed to be an adept. He never tired of fishing his native streams, in ima- gination, when the men were yarning in the fore- castle, or in our silent watches; and I really believe that he had no idea that he was drawing a long bow at such times. 122 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S He took a great fancy to me, perhaps, because I was a good listener and never raised any objection to the truth of his extravagant yarns. He was the soul of honor, would rather give than take, and truthful in everything not connected with his favo- rite pastime. The men did not spare him at all, for the foremast-man rarely exhibits any forbear- ance in such things unless the yarn happens to be full of supernatural events, when Jack takes it all in as a part of the freight of what little brains he has. The sailorman is not generally endowed with sen- timent, and in order to reach what sensibility he has, one must appeal to him with some horror. After listening patiently, the men would advise him to ' ' stowe that * ' or to ' ' carry it to the marines. " Mar- son was the but of the forecastle on these occasions ; but the more hilarious the disbelief, the more our hero thought himself misunderstood, never seeming to have a misgiving that he was not telling the exact truth. The boatsteerer , Marson, had an old gun, of doubt- ful safety, which he had brought on board ship with him, and a small bag of fishing tackle, not of the kind used by elegant sportsmen, but good enough for on board ship. If one put credence in all that Marson said, one must per force believe, without examination, that he had caught larger fish, and more of them than any other living man. So impressed was he with the prowess of his own expeditions, that the same yarns, being repeated, WHALING VOYAGE. 123 assumed more ample proportion the oftener they were told. I never had the heart to disabuse him of the idea that I disbelieved all he told me in this regard. Well, whenever he had leave to go ashore, he man- aged to have me go with him. He was not at all like the conventional sailor in .appearance, gait, or conversation. Some men never get to be rough salts pickled all through, with a rolling gait like a por- poise wallowing in the sea such as graduate from a war-ship , or a long voyage merchantman. In fact , Marson was a genteel appearing young fellow, who might have been taken anywhere, after being ashore for a few months, for a store clerk. His stories concerning his catches were marvels of absurdity. He had caught shark in every part of the world, larger, longer, and more savage than had ever been seen by any other person. However, he was not alone in this inability to overestimate his powers the fish-liar is ubiquitous. There are so many people in the world, upright, truthful and conscientious, who do not imagine it irregular to exaggerate about their sporting suc- cess it is an amiable weakness , and one of the out- comes of the genius of human nature. There is a fellowship in fishing that makes all the world akin. The aristocratic votary of the gentle craft will stoop from his high estate and discuss, with interest and urbanity, the taking power of this or that bait, the construction of this or that fly, the various seasons of the year, and the 124 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S haunts for fishing, with a tramp, and lie like a com- moner about the catches he has made. Man seems to have been, at all times and in all ages, proud of his conquest over the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea. Story telling has been an honored vocation from the earliest period of time, when troubadours and minnesingers were the transmitters of history, song and poetry. Whatever they sang or recited was a skillful admixture of truth and fiction, colored in obedience to party prejudice, and to the tempera- ment of the narrator. But, it belongs to the angler, par excellence, to make stories of whole cloth, hav- ing, as it were, but two truthful elements, the water and the fact of fish being therein. We take occasion to offer advice, and to admonish all gentle anglers to beware and not be led into temptation. The nets of the Evil One are always set, ready to ensnare the unwary. It may be too late, when the lying brother sportsman discovers his mistake and finds himself floundering in the toils of the arch fiend, to stretch forth his imploring hands for succor towards those who have never distorted the facts about their catch, but who have told the truth to an ounce as they understood it. The spirits of truthful anglers, their duty in this world being done, shall sail in unseen boats to those fruitful fishing waters, on that other shore, where every fish is golden, and which increase in size, in beauty, and in value, forever, and forever. The untruthful brother of the gentle art shall remain WHALING VOYAGE. 125 here, forever, fishing in troubled waters on an un- blessed shore. They shall thrash the waters with flies that never cause a rise: they shall hope on, hope ever, to strike the largest and finest fish, which they shall 1 never take, but which, like the drink of Tantalus, shall be in constant view but never obtainable they shall never catch, nor cease from trying, but fish on to an unknown fate this shall be the end of the fish-liar. Before the ship sailed from Boston, Marson obtained from the mate leave to go ashore, there were some matters yet to be arranged between the captain and the owners of the Peri, and, conse- quently, the ship was not ready to sail. I asked the mate if I could go with Marson. After looking me all over, from my shoes to the top of my hat, without speaking a word, he nodded Yes, with a pleasant smile growing about his lips. We started without more ado, with light hearts, for a bit of vacation before undertaking our voyage to the whaling grounds of the Atlantic, Pacific and Arctic. We embarked in one of the ship's boats, having a lugger sail, and filled away for a large island in the distance. As soon as we got ashore Marson commenced rigging up his fishing line. I had none, and so I became a participating spectator. " Now, Johnnie," said my shipmate, " I'll show you how to catch fish, and big ones, too." I hope so," I replied, but, having no faith in 126 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S anything he said, merely asking "Are you going to fish from the shore or from the boat ? " From the shore, he answered without -looking up. On the island lived a few fisher families. We commenced fishing that is, my shipmate did, for, as I explained above , I had no tackle. Armed with a stout line, himself at one extremity and a squid at the other, he invited me to observe closely just how he did it. ' ' Now," said he, * ' you take your line in this way," and all the time he was arranging the tackle, " and throw it out to sea, like this." The ocean had a good swell on, and came rolling up the beach like suds thrown from a washtub. After getting his line fixed to suit him, and ex- plaining again, " You see, Johnnie, the fish are in deep water," her took a firm hold of the line a few feet from the squid, I looking admiringly on, and by a series of dexterous gyrations about his head , sent it flying about a hundred feet out to the sea. It was beautifully done. Skillfully he hauled it in, hand-over-hand, the squid following like a living thing, bright and shim- mering as when he had thrown it out but no fish was attached to it. Making ready again, he said, " Johnnie, I did'nt happen to strike him that time, but next time you'll see a bouncer." He attempted again, and, with the nonchalant manner and air of a man who feels perfectly sure that he can do just what he wants to, he gave the WHALING VOYAGE. 127 squid that preparatory whirling motion again, and away it went, but not in the direction he intended. The noblest efforts will often fail, and the most skillful are sometimes doomed to disappointment it was so in this case. The squid did not go seaward , but fastened itself in the hind leg of a too-confiding dog belonging to the island, which stood there with canine curiosity just as those quadruped friends of man so often do. The animal went howling away, but was hauled in hand-over-hand, as a fish would have been, and the hook extracted. This surgical operation being done, the misguided dog went whining away to its master. Marson persisted, however, he knew he could do it and tried it again, with as much preparation as before and twice as much determination. He missed the sea altogether, and the barbed messenger buried itself in that part of his wearing apparel which comes in contact with the chair, when he indulged in that agreeable and refreshing attitude of sitting down. My shipmate looked disconcerted, saying, " This isn't a very good day for fishing; the sea is too rough. Guess I'll have a shoot." ' c ls there any shooting on this island?" I re- marked, not betraying by a muscle of my face but what I thought the failure was owing to the rough- ness of the sea. " There must be duck on this island, and it's a good 128 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S day for duck shooting; the wind is just right, if I only knew where to go. " Just as he said this, a fisherman, the owner of the dog, one of the inhabitants of the island, came along. When asked if there were any ducks on the island, he replied: 1 ' I guess so. There's a pond , a shallow one , about half a mile from here, and the ducks often light there. " As we walked off in the direction indicated, the fisherman said: " Say, stranger, let me go on ahead. If you can't shoot no better 'n you can fish, I geuss I better chain my dog till you're gone." Marson made no reply; but we quickened our steps, reached the pond, and, secreting ourselves be- hind some rushes, waited for them to come and waited. Finally there came, sailing straight for the pond, one of those round, plump little ducks, known as water- witches, or hell-divers. This duck gets its name from its habit of dodging any shot sent after it. The duck plunged into the water, sporting around without seeming fear, tossing the water up over its back, which ran off its polished plumage in drops of diamond brilliancy. With the feelings of a true sportsman, wanting the bird to have a fair chance , and not wishing to kill it while sitting on the water, our gunner threw stones and turf at it to make it get up; but it would not fly. Taking aim , Marson fired , the shot striking WHALING VOYAGE. 129 the water with a swish as if a sudden shower had fallen upon it, the duck diving. This alternate shooting and diving continued for an hour or two, the bird diving each time at the flash of the gun, and defiantly coming up to await the re- loading of the old fusee. And so the battle continued. Mar son said we had better go to one of the huts and get some dinner. We did so, and after finish- ing the meal, returned to the pond to renew the fight. We found the duck patiently awaiting our arrival, busily engaged in picking the shot from the bottom of the pond, tossing it up and catching it in its bill as it came down. With such a gunner, aud such a duck, the sport might have lasted a week. Strategem was resorted to, and, when the duck plunged under at the flash of the gun, Nimrod waded out quickly and struck the duck, with the but of the gun, as it appeared on the surface. So ended our leave, and we returned to the ship; within a week we were out on the broad Atlantic. I told the story to the first mate, in confidence and without malice, and, the story being such a good one, the mate let it out, when it became com- mon property. Often, when Bill Marson, as the crew called him, would be spinning a yarn, some one would quiet him by asking, " Bill, which end o' your gun shoots the best? " In a half laughing way, he would turn to me, saying, " Johnnie, that was mean of you." (9) CHAPTER XIII. A STORM. The captain was in a good humor, as were the mates, and the crew was as jolly and happy as men could possibly be , having a prospect of two years and over of " salt horse," seasoned with a reason- able hope of a good ' * lay " at the end of the voyage. We had been very fortunate as to weather, hav- ing had nothing in that way to necessitate any work higher than the deck except an occasional taking in of royals and reefing or furling the top- sails. We were steering large under all plain sail, with lookouts in the ' ' top " for a showing of whales , the deck waiting to hear the welcome cry, " There she blows." The men were lolling about deck, in the shadow of the sails, under a sky of celestial beauty. It was a lovely evening, the air sweet and balmy from a flowing sea which followed in our wake with tumbling waves capped with foam and lashed into sparkling white caps, which, breaking into foam- embroidered structures, dropped off into hollows between green hillocks of ocean water, to mount again to other summits in a new crest at the bid- ding of the breeze. Now and again the wind lulled as if tired of its 130 W1IALIXG VOYAGE. 131 own efforts, bringing the sails flapping against the rigid masts: the ends of loose rope slapped spite- fully against whatever happened to be within their reach, while the unemployed reef -points drummed a rhythm of fairy music against the bellying sails. The sun was sinking into the west, leaving in its wake a band of rosy-hued sky. The weather was such as to arouse whatever of sentiment existed in the hearts of the sailormen, and to assure the lands- men among them that going to sea was but a bit of the poetry of nature. The stars came out in patches, revealed against an illimitable arch so beautifully blue as to preclude almost the possibility of such a thing as a storm. Far into the gathering night the gentle, murmuring wind continued its soothing lullaby, the ship mov- ing along like a spirit of the deep arisen to the ocean level to enjoy for a while the swelling bil- lows, and vie in pleasures with the sprites of the upper air. And so the night passed. The early morning began by showing the ugly side of ocean life. There appeared a dark and gloomy sky, the sun not making its advent in the usual glory, not showing on the horizon line in an effulgence of pink radiance, the earnest of a clear and welcome day, but above the line of sea and horizon in a bank of dark, ominous-looking cloud. Great ragged, tufted, jagged piles of cloud began to gather as if making an effort to blot out the glories of the preceding day, while across the untainted portion of the heavens, black scud was 132 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S driving, giving the aspect of sea and sky a wicked look, denoting that a fierce and violent storm was brewing; the disturbed condition of the atmosphere giving assurance that before many hours it would be breaking upon us. There was a heavy swell heaving after us with a sort of vibrating, throbbing sound closing in around the ship, while the distance gave out at intervals a bellowing sound which came to us in warning notes. It was a condition of weather difficult to account for except upon the theory that we might be sail- ing upon the outer edge of a cyclone. .The barom- eter was , unmistakable in its indication of a com- ing storm, perhaps a gale, and there was little doubt that we might expect to feel it before long, and also, that it was time to be getting ready to meet it. About nine o'clock in the morning, something like an hour after breakfast, the captain came out of his cabin, paced up and down the deck a few times, without speaking to anyone, looked up at the trim of the sails, then out over, and around the tremb- ling sea, as if forming a judgment of the weather. His eyes finally rested on the thick appearance to the eastward. He looked a little perplexed, and, going up to the first mate, whose watch it was, said in a tone loud enough for all to hear: " Mr. Ryder, I fear we are going to have a streak of ugly weather. The barometer has been unsteady for a day or two, and is now falling very rapidly." WHALING VOYAGE. 133 "It don't look quite right over there, sir," an- swered the mate , pointing to the eastward , ' ' besides , the sun came out of a cloud bank this morning; but for all that we won't get it this forenoon. I've seen worse than that end in a summer day." "Aye," responded the captain, "but I am a little suspicious. The weather in these seas is as capricious as a coquette. Better take in your royals and flying jib." " Aye, aye, sir," answered the mate, shouting at the same time : " Clew up royals, jump aloft, men, to furl." I bounced into the fore rigging and started for the fore royal yard with the other men, for I began to feel equal to any job aloft that I might be ordered to do. " Stand by to take in and stow flying-jib," roared Mr. Ryder, the men running to the duty. The royals were furled ship-shape fashion, and the jib stowed away neatly and sailorlike, when the order came from the captain, " Send down royals," which order was repeated by the mate. " Lay aloft there, bullies, and send down royals." While this was being done some of the men were at the necessary deck work, the gale meanwhile increasing rapidly, indicating a "snorter," as sailors say, when the orders were given in succes- sion : ' * Haul down mizzen to'gallant and main to'gal- lant-staysails." " Clew up gaff- topsail," which 134 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S was done with a will, and " Clew up fore to'gallant- sail." "Haul down mizzen topmast-staysail." " Clew up main to'gallant-staysail. " "Jump aloft there, my men, and furl fore to'- gallant-stay sails and main to'gallantsails." " Furl gafftopsail. " The wind was now rattling eyerything that hap- pened to be loose, and howling through the rigging, threatening to tear away what sail we were yet carrying. " I expect we'll have to strip her, Mr. Ryder. The gale seems to be increasing. Take in main topmast-staysail, and upper-topsails." "Lively, men," yelled Mr. Ryder, " haul down main topmast-staysail/' " Slack down upper fore and main topsails." "All ready?" * "All ready, sir." " Lay aloft, men, lay aloft, to furl topsails." " All was hurry and confusion. The deck was washed from stem to taffrail, the water choking up in the lee scuppers; ends of rope were writhing about the deck, the spars were groaning in unison with the swing of the yards, the creaking of blocks, and rattle of chains. The noise was deafening, and all talking had to be done in loud tones. "We must take in everything. It's a nasty blow, Mr. Ryder." " It is, that, indeed, sir," struggled Ryder's voice WHALING VOYAGE. 135 above the roar of the wind. The stentorian tones of the captain overtopped the howling storm: "Haul up mainsail." "Brail up spanker." " Down with jib," and then out of the roar of the storm, as if Neptune himself were in command, "Furl mainsail." "Furl spanker." "Stow the jib." This being done, the mate suggested to the captain, " Better take in something more, Captain Folsom. I don't think she'll carry what's on her." 1 ' All right. Haul up f orecourse. " ' ' Clew up lower fore topsail. " " Goose wing maintopsail. " Meanwhile all hands were at work either on deck or aloft, the ship was tearing through sea and foam, pitching and rolling as though impatient of the sail she yet carried, when Captain Folsom ordered : " Furl mainsail, Mr. Ryder, and furl lower fore- topsail." " Shake goose wing and furl lower main- topsail." " I hope she'll carry what's on her now." I think she's running a little unsteady, sir," an- swered Mr. Ryder. "Well," ordered the captain, " clear away 'and hoist main staysail." " Hoist fore staysail." We were now running under fore and main stay- sails, the sea running wild and driving the Peri into mad plunges, and every plunge sending a deluge of sea swashing over the deck, fore and aft, the figure- head emerging from every sea with undiminished gaze seaward, looking as new and bright as varnish, and complacent as if riding out a summer sea. The oilbag was swung from the weather cat- 136 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S head, leaving a wake of gloss in the ship's track, that stilled the sea to a very great extent. The wind had now increased beyond the force of a storm and become a gale. The demons on the wind screamed their anger through the rigging with a howl of devastation, threatening to carry the spars over the side and leave the old ship a hulk on the ocean. The men held on as best they could, and we waited in suspense and agony to see what would happen next: to see if we should be obliged to strip the vessel and scud under bare poles, or heave to and take the chances of riding out the storm. Ocean's wrath seemed let loose for destruction. The wind struck the ship in a solid wall, laden with a deluge of rain, driving, pitiless, pelting and cold. Darkness increased, and chaos seemed come again. The good old fabric groaned, struggled, and writhed to outride the gale. The sea- washed decks threatened every moment to take the men, stout of heart as the timbers of their ocean home , off their feet and send them to briny graves. The black pinions of death flapped over the trembling ribs of the devoted Peri. The gale lasted all through the day and night without diminution. After daylight it began to di- minish in force somewhat, but continued in heavy squalls until along about eleven o'clock in the morn- ing, when the rain ceased, the wind died down, and the sun attempted to struggle through flying clouds of dense blackness and thick weather. WHALING VOYAGE. 137 About two o'clock in the afternoon the sun con- quered by bursting through the storm-clouds, dis- pelling them, and appearing in all the splendor of that cheering light of the world. The main and fore topsails were loosed and sheeted home: the jib hauled down and tautened aft, the fore course dropped, made fast, and stiffened with the bowlines, the spanker unfurled and hauled out, and the fore-staysail furled. The main course was set, the main-staysail taken in, and the flying jib put on. While sail was being made, a general snugging up of the deck was going on by some of the men; the remaining part of the crew engaged in putting on more sail. The fore and main to'gallantsails were set, as were the main to'gallant-staysails , and the mizzen topmast-staysails sent up. Royals were sent up and set, mizzen to'gallant- staysail, and fore-royal sheeted home, the main bow- lines hauled out and the yards braced sharp up, with the wind forward of the waist. CHAPTER XIV. THE COOK'S MONKEY AGAIN. The passing away of the storm and the sight of the sun was inspiriting to the officers and men, the crew working away diligently, cleaning up decks and putting in ship-shape what the storm and con- fusion had disarranged, while the Peri walked proudly off under all plain sail as if there had been no threatening disturbance. Luckily nothing had been carried away, not a thread of either sails or rigging damaged. The hen-coop, however, had been broken from its fast- enings, a serious matter at sea, and the fowls sent flying and struggling in our wake. It was the first storm I had experienced, and, to me, had been a very serious affair. I was at work scrubbing up the deck, my feet bare and trousers rolled up to my knees, armed with a mop. Ned Ricks was close to me, and com- menced talking in his peculiar soft accents, loud enough, however, for me to hear distinctly. "Quickstep," he said, "you think that wus a storm, don't. ye," looking at me with a knowing expression on his singular countenance, "but that wusn't nothin' to what ye'll git when it blows a harrycane, or a cyclocane, an' ye'r 'bliged to sail under bare poles with nary a rag." 138 WHALING VOYAGE. 13!) "Well,' : I replied, "that is storm enough for me; but if there comes a stiflfer one I'll take my chances with the rest of you." "flight ye aire, my lad. I didn't mean fer to skeer.ye. I'll tell ye what, Quickstep, there's goin' to be a jolly row atwixt the cook an' thet ere Frenchy afore this ere vyage is up, all along o* thet ere monkey*'' " Who says that?" " Nob'dy, didn't say it. I heerd the cook a gTiimblin' to hisself, an* him an* Frenchy's had some fights in words. Frenchy chucks out some kind o" er slur ev'ry time he passes the galley, but 's yet 'taint broke out." This set me to thinking, and I remarked to Ricks : " I would be very sorry to see it; and if I thought I could stop it before it goes any further, I would speak to the mate about it and prevent it." " What I ses, Quickstep, is thet it won't do not no good to interfere atween sailors when they gits riled, cause they've got to hev it out. It's like try- in' to stop a man a beatin' o' his wife, the woman gine rally turns on ye an' scratches your eyes out." " Well, I've a mind to try it. You know Pedro has a murderous temper." " I knows thet ye means well," said Ricks, " but it wouldn't do not no good. Howsumdever , I wisht ye would, fur I kinder hates to see two men a' fightin', 'specially 'bout a bloomin' animal what 140 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S ain't human. But the wust on't is thet I can't stan' by an' see a man killed 'thout interferin', an ef the cook gits after thet ere Frenchy he'll make short work on't." " We must try and prevent it, but if it ,were certain that neither of them would be hurt, it would be much better to let them have it out." " ' Course it would, cause, ef men fights, no mat- ter who gits the wust on't, they gits to be good frens arterwards 'specially ef they both gits licked about the same." " The man Frenchy," I continued, " seems to be a harmless sort of fellow. The monkey stole his din- ner, and that is a serious loss to a sailorrnan." " So 'tis, so 'tis; but thet wusn't not no justice to cut off the monkey's tail off; thet ere was crulty. What orter hev been done was to make the cook give up some o' his own dinner to Frenchy, an the cook go 'thout any." (< But tell me, Tom," I asked, " what have either of them done, since the affair of the monkey steal- ing the Frenchman's dinner, to aggravate each other ? " ' ' Frenchy ses as how thet the cook fixes the wit ties so 's he gits the wust part of the mess, an* 'sides, thet he don't git his share an' share alike; when he goes past the galley he 'ludes to the mon- key's tail an' all that. Thet's wery aggravokin, thet is, ye know; an' I'm afeered that ef the cook gits in one o' his tantrums thet Frenchy's life ain't wuth much." WHALING VOYAGE. 141 These side-plays continued between Pedro and Frenchy until it was only a question of a short time when there must be a settlement between them. One day there had been quite a heavy shower, and the deck was wet and slippery. Pedro had stretched a line across the back of the galley upon which he had hung some cloths to dry. Frenchy came along, and, making believe to stumble, tore the line loose, letting the cloths fall to the wet and grimy deck. Pedro sprang out of the galley, looking like a demon his face was fiendish. " Wa* bisness you got to frow down my line on de deck ? " demanded Pedro. " Aha, vat for ze damn monkey steal rny horse an' run up ze riggin'. Ze nex-a-time he make so to me, by gar, I cut ze head off, zen he no eat horse encore." The cook started for the Frenchman, saying in tones of extreme anger : * ' Ef yo tech dat monkey agin' I frow ye ober de ship's rail." As he said this he advanced. Frenchy drew his sheath knife, and made a murderous pass at the cook. Pedro seized his antagonist by both wrists, wrenching them until Frenchy dropped the knife upon the deck, when, seizing the Frenchman by the neck and seat of the trousers, he raised him above his head as if he were a feather, and started to the port rail with the intention of throwing him 142 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S overboard which he would have done had he not been prevented. This was all enacted in a few seconds, and began and ended almost before the mate, (the captain not being on deck,) knew anything of it. If Pedro's attempt had not been arrested in time Frenchy would have been tossed into the sea, and Pedro, with whom all the men were in sympathy, would have been a murderer. But, just at the moment when the Frenchman was raised high above the cook's head, Ned Ricks rushed in, seized the black by the shoulder, whirled him around toward the galley, grabbed the victim and hauled both down to the deck, holding them there. The cook tugged, mad with passion, with all his great strength, to get possession of the frightened and ghostly -pale Frenchman. I never saw such tenacity, such superhuman strength as was exhibited by Ricks. He was slight of build; but, when in a good cause, he proved a giant. The fracas brought the captain out of his cabin, and he ordered Pedro into the galley and sent the Frenchman off on some duty at the other end of the ship. Captain Folsom went to his quarters, and in a few moments thereafter sent the steward for the first mate. When that officer appeared the cap- tain learned all the particulars of the disturbance, and then ordered both men to be sent aft. Both appeared, and an investigation took place. WHALING VOYAGE. 143 ''Mr. Ryder," commenced the captain, "who commenced this quarrel ? " " I don't rightly know, sir. It seems it has been brewing for a long time, and only broke out to- day. " Turning to the cook , Captain Folsom said : "Pedro, let me hear your story." The cook turned a few shades paler, a sort of ash-gray, answering : ' ' Wall , sah , ye see I has a monkey on dis yere ship, an' he wus reg'lar shipped at de time dat I wus. Wall, sah, one day dis yere Frenchy done got his kid wid his dinner in it, an' sot it down on de deck. Jis* den, Jabo, dat's my monkey, kem along, an', de mess bein' cooked fus-class, de monkey help hisaelf to de meat part of de mess. Wall, sah, dis yere Frenchy, he cut off de tail ob de monkey, an 5 ruin him for life." " Then it was all about the monkey?" inquired the captain. " Yes, sah. Ef de monkey had been lef alone I would 'er made dat meat good outen my own mess." " Let me hear your story, my man," said Cap- tain Folsom, turning to the Frenchman. 5 the boat-davits, from which a boat was hanging, when this fellow abruptly asked: " Johnnie, what did ye come to sea for ?" " Because I wanted to be a sailor," I replied. " Ye 11 be sorry ye ever was a sailorman, least- wise, a fok'sle hand." I did not care to have his views as to myself, so I set him to talking by asking him why he had shipped, when he let out a string of grievances. " Well, I dunno, I 'spose it's 'cause I'm not fit for nothin' else. When this vyage is up, that'll make four times, an' I'm poorer now nor when I fust started a sailorin'. Ef a feller makes a little, the blasted boardin' masters gits it all away from him. He's a shark of a feller, that boardin' master; but while ye has money he's pleasant like until he gits ye in debt an' robs ye again, an* then ye has to ship where he tells ye. Ef ye ain't willin', why, then he gits ye drunk an' shanghais ye." ''Why don't you go to a respectable boarding house when you go ashore ? " I suggested. ' ' How kin a man go to a 'spectable house when he ain't got no frens an' no money. Ef a man goes ashore from his ship arter a long vyage an' has any money, the boardin' master's runner falls foul of him, talks sweet, inwites him to drink, an' then I 'spose ye know what a appetite fur rum is," and he looked into my face as if he expected me to say something. I replied : " Thank God, I do not. Bnt why don't you refuse to drink ? " 156 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S " Refuse! " repeated the man, as if it were a pre- posterous suggestion, and, as if a new light had dawned upon him at the very idea of a refusal under such circumstances, " Refuse! How kin a man refuse when he ain't got no friends, and the boardin' master makes himself out a saint, sayin' his house is the only one where a sailorman kin hev a fair show ?" There was a great deal of truth in this, but I said : " You should keep away from such temptation." " Yes, that's easy fur a man what ain't got no appetite fur the stuff. Why, ef they wants ter git ye to ship, an' ye won't drink, they puts it in youre wittles, so to give ye a taste; an' then ' Just then the relieving watch came on deck and we went below to turn in, the conversation never being resumed. I thought how true it all is, but how much of it is due to Hawsrig's own shiftless ways. CHAPTER XVI. i CAPTURING A WHALE. I HAD my own ambitions, and, consequently, learned to enjoy what was enjoyable, and to squeeze a little pleasure out of all that was disagreeable. I was now as good a sailor as any man in the Peri , excepting the captain and first mate at least, I thought so, and could take my trick at the wheel, do my work aloft or below, and was not-aware that any fault could be found with me. There are always antagonisms arising among forecastlemen, and it was my misfortune to meet mine when I came across and lived a short time with a shipmate named Guy. He was a Pennsyl- vanian, and this was his second voyage. He was a good sailor, and had the place of boat-steerer we were natural antagonists. That feeling had leaped, as it were , into the minds of both of us the moment we met, which was on a yard arm, and heard each other's voices. Guy was a bully, and generally in a row with some one of the crew. I had avoided him as much as possible, although I knew that sooner or later I would have to give him a lesson in good behavior. He had a habit of saying ugly things, which he thought smart and witty, as we passed each other on the deck or hap- 157 158 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S pened to be close together aloft; especially was lie aggravating when we were reefing or furling. It was not so much what he said, as his manner of saying it he was always carrying a chip on his shoulder for some one to knock off. One of the strong points in my nature was to resist a nick- name I would neither give one nor have one applied to me. One of Guy's favorite taunts was in paraphrasing my name he would call me Slowstep. This nettled me, but I did not care to fight with him, although I believed I could whip him. However, I never thought fighting a good way to settle differences, at least, until all other means were exhausted. I happened one day to strike upon Guy's almost single weakness as to anything like sensibility, and that was his extreme sensitive- ness to ridicule. This hint came from a bout of words between him and one of the men, in which Guy was immediately quieted down by some ridi- cule the men heaped upon him, and which drove him from the forecastle at the time. This I stored up, awaiting some chance to put him in a ridiculous position. One Sunday, we were all lounging about hoping for news from the mast-head. That day we had a right fair dinner, for sea fare, it being " lobscouse " and roast park, followed by ' ' plum duff" served with molasses. Lobscouse is a very palatable dish when made carefully, as our cook handled it, and is composed of hardtack and salt meat chopped fine, to which is WHALING VOYAGE, 15C added whatever vegetable that may be available, all seasoned liberally with salt and pepper, To this mess water is added, and as the pot boils it is stirred together with a large iron spoon until done, when it is served hot. Duff is made simply of flour and water, to which on festive occasions raisins are added, being boiled and served hot with sauce made with vinegar or molasses. We were seated in the forecastle on our chests, or wherever a place could be found, talking, eating and chaffing each other, when Guy, after having a crack at several of the men, commenced on me, saying, " Quickstep, you're always slowstep, except at dinner-time. When there's any eating to be done you're quickstep; but when there's work you're slowstep," after which he laughed immoder- ately. The charge was not true, and, the men looking at me as if they expected me to resent it , I thought now my time has come, although I did not know just what I was going to do. We had gotten through with the dinner, the substantial part of it, and were just commencing on the duff, which stood on the deck in front of each man in a panni- kin, swimming in molasses. Guy, in a good humor with himself, kept at me as though hk had found a but for his jokes who would not resist. Suddenly, I put both hands into the vessel con- taining my duff, grabbed the whole mess in both hands, and with a powerful throw landed it full 160 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S in his face. It struck him about the middle part of his forehead, the dough and molasses streaming- down his face and over his clothes. The men all roared and jeered, but Guy was too busy with his extra allowance of duff to appreciate the joke. After he had wiped the mess off carefully, during which time I imagined he was collecting his thoughts, his anger increasing the while. He finally found his tongue, saying in a threatening attitude : " I'll get even with you for this." I went up to him, rubbed my hands, yet recking with the contents of the pannikin, over his face and cheeks, at the same time answering his threat: "Very well, we had better settle it right now, and unless you promise never to annoy me again, I will give you something you won't be able to get in a candy store. " The chests were all pushed aside, the men form- ing a ring, in the gloomy forecastle, with the expectation of seeing a fight Jack is always ready to see a fight. But there was no fight in Guy. Ridicule had completely mastered him, and he beat a hasty retreat up the companion ladder, the men calling after him : "Good-bye, Mr. Duff," Ever after, when he undertook to indulge in his bullying propensity he was immediately squelched by some one saying: "Now, Mr. Duff." He steered clear of me ever after that. We had been slipping along quiety after this WHALING VOYAGE, 161 event for about three weeks with the monotony of the forecastle life unbroken, when suddenly, like a streak of lightning from a summer sky, the cry rang from the masthead in joyous tones, 1 'There she blows !" "Where away/' demanded the officer of the deck. " About two miles away, over the lee quarter." shouted the lookout. The ship was hauled aback at once and all was bustle and excitement, each one realizing that now had come the time for action. " Masthead," shouted the mate to the man aloft, " do you see him?" " Yes, sir; blows again in a spout a little further to the leeward." "All right," answered the deck. "Hoist and swing the boats, my men. We must get this first one." The boats were lowered and manned, each one taking his proper station, and away went all of them. In less than a jiffy, as the sailors express it, the boats were in pursuit of that whale, or some other one that might show up, seen from the mast- head. The oars bent under the lusty strokes of the anxious men, spurning the waters and sending a beaded ruffle of water aft, the boats bounding away, each one emulous of striking the whale first. A boatsteerer was in the head of each boat, stand- (11) 162 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S ing erect, and directing by a wave of his hand which way the steersman was to point the boat. The whale was not to be seen. It was either "gallied" or was remaining an undue length of time under water. Presently it came to the sur- face, and close to the boats. The death-dealing iron is poised, and Guy, who was in the head of the boat, the devil in his eye, launched the iron swift and sure, it entering the whale and " fasten- ing " the boat. Away went the monster, and out went the line, three hundred fathom, at a tremend- ous speed, a heating pace, which necessitated pour- ing water on it, where it ran through the chocks, to keep it from burning. Guy had taken his place in the stern sheets, as steersman, which is the boatsteerer's place after he has struck the whale, and it was " good and fast." All at once the line slacked up, and the maddened animal "showed," heading directly for the boat. As he approached and came within throwing dis- tance, two more irons were put into him. We had fastened to a huge sperm whale an old bull, as vicious as Satan. The wounds enraged him, and, slowing down for an instant, as they say of steam- ers, he lashed the waters, breaking them into a bloody foam, as though gathering force to attack his enemies, when another iron admonished him that it was time to " fin out." The last iron had gone into his life, but he was still lively and bent on mischief. He started to run the second time, when " stern all " was given WHALING VOYAGE. 163 which turned him, and he came straight for the boat, striking it with his immense head square amidships, with all the fury and apparent malice, often shown by the sperm whale. As he struck the boat, as though guided by a spirit of revenge, up it went, about thirty feet, in a burst of water, broken timbers, oars and men, not enough being left of the boat to offer a sug- gestion of repair, or indeed, to tell what it had been. The crew flew into the air with the frag- ments of boat, and were soon struggling in the sea amid the wreck, and whatever else was floatable, striving, not only to save themselves from drown- ing, but, also from the fury of the maddened mons- ter. After the boat was stove the whale started off again but not so strong. The remaining boats rescued the crew, all but two of them, (Frenchy and Guy) , who were never seen again after the boat was stove. It was now nearly dark and the whale still going, though feebly. When the boat with the res- cued men reached him and sent another iron into his carcass, the capture was then complete. His dying throes broke the water into blood-colored foam, whenhe " flurried" and " finned out," that is, gave up the ghost. Often a whale seems dead, when, suddenly, signs of life appear, and an expiring effort is made, doing much damage in trying to get away. So that, when it is not certain that the prey is dead, another iron is jammed into him to make sure, and, 164 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S if he does not flinch, he is made fast and towed to the ship. The bowhead, when struck, sometimes does great damage to boats and men, staving boats, crippling men, and so on; but it is generally from a clumsy effort to escape and not from any instinct of revenge. But the sperm whale seems to be in such cases actuated by a thinking power, which aims to' destroy those who attack it. He has been known to run a tilt at a ship, striking it and causing it to leak. The exciting capture was ended, and it proved to be an eighty-barrel one. It was made fast to all of the boats, tandem, and the towing to the ship commenced. We towed it head foremost, as it moves easier that way, the involuntary action of the flukes operating as a propeller, aiding progress through the water. A piece of line six or seven feet long was rove through a hole cut in the whale's head close to the blow hole, and two or more boats started to the ship, which remained hove to, awaiting our arrival. The speed was very slow, about two miles an hour, and it was long after dark when the vessel was reached, all being wet, tired, hungry, and sad over the loss of our shipmates. It was a great grief to all hands that two men had been lost, and especially to myself, that Guy was one of them, against whom I had no enmity, but with whom I had so lately had a difficulty in the forecastle on the occasion of our Sunday dinner. WHALING VOYAGE. 165 But the whaleman's life is in jeopardy whenever he enters a boat in pursuit of a whale it may hap- pen, and it may not. The calling is, in all its phases, a dangerous one, but is very enticing for its adventure, and it is this that leads many young men to the adoption of it. I was led to become a sailor, not from any special knowledge or any peculiarities connected with the life of a whaler, but because of an inherent love of adventure, and, besides, a positive distaste for any kind of shore business. After I got my sea legs on, and began to learn my duties, though a bit irksome, I was more determined than ever to com- plete my apprenticeship, and to put myself in the line of promotion, in order to carry out the original idea of becoming captain of a ship, and so escape the horrid life and associations of the forecastle. But, after all, with its many hardships, the life of a whaler is full of activity and adventure in short, it has a charm difficult to understand. CHAPTER XVII. CUTTING IN. CUTTING in is the operation of stripping the blub- ber from the carcass of a whale after it is towed alongside the ship, made fast, and hoisted on board for trying-out, or rendering into oil. There are two kinds of whales, as the reader knows, the sperm whale containing only oil, and the whalebone whale comprising large and small animals the ' ' bowhead " being the largest and most important in a money sense. The cutting in of a sperm whale differs from the same operation upon the " bowhead," for that is to secure the pro- duct of oil and bone. I will endeavor to give the manner of each as intelligently as possible in the limit of a chapter. The sperm whale has no bone, commercially speaking, but has in each side of the under jaw about twenty-two strong, white, partially-pointed teeth, which are of no great value, except as they may be used in manufactures not requiring large and fine ivory. These teeth fit into the lower jaw closely together, and into a recess, or groove, in the upper jaw, which is without teeth. The head, being about one-third the size of the whole body, contains an oil which is somewhat 166 WHALING VOYAGE. 167 more valuable than that obtained from the blubber. This is dipped out with a " case bucket" after the head has been cut off and hoisted on board , when a hole is morticed in it large enough to admit the bucket. The whalebone whales have no teeth, properly speaking, as the construction of their jaws and manner of feeding do not require teeth. The bow- head has a large number of fringed plates, or slabs, suspended from the upper jaw, which are about three feet long at the angle of the mouth, and from sixteen to eighteen feet at the deepest part of the jaw. This is the whalebone of commerce , is very valuable and is used in the manufacture of whips, canes, corset stays, and many other things useful and ornamental. As soon as the capture is made by the boats, which is known to the ship by a code of signals, or sighted from the masthead, that part of the crew which has been left in charge of the ship .to work her and keep off-and-on while the boats are in chase, commence preparing for cutting in, provided it is determined to render the blubber at once without waiting for another whale to be captured. The cutting tackle is overhauled and mastheaded, a gangway opened tin the starboard side and a cut- ting-in stage slung over the ship's side, overhang- ing the water: cutting spades, boarding knives, and all necessary tools are placed in readiness on deck, that there may be no delay in getting to 168 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S work when the carcass is brought alongside and properly made fast. Being alongside , preparations are made for tack- ling on to it by a " fluke-chain" and " head-rope," the flukes of the animal pointing forward on the starboard side under the cutting-in stage. After securing the carcass the fluke-chain and head-rope are adjusted, rove through a port and belayed to a post, or bit, as the sailors call it, when the men commence stripping the blubber from the whale. It was about eleven o'clock the next day when the whale was in position alongside for the attack. The men were called to dinner, so that, when they did begin, there could no "knocking off" work until all the blubber was housed, and for fear too, that it might "blast," which means to spoil, or that the weather might become rough and stormy, thus increasing the difficulty of getting the stuff on board; or, again, that the boats might be lowered away in pursuit of other whales which might show up to the man on the look-out from the " crow's nest." The head was cut off, and divided into three parts by imaginary lines known to whalemen, the upper part, immediately below the spout-hole is the " case," containing an oil of a different quality than that obtained from the blubber, and of greater value, amounting sometimes to as much as fifteen barrels. The "junk" which is a great mass of cartilaginous matter, tough, elastic and fat, and the WHALING VOYAGE. 169 " whitehorse," a singular name, lying between the junk and the lower line of the upper jaw. The carcass, in order to secure all the blubber with as little time and labor as possible, was marked off with lines, spirally, around the circum- ference, and, by these lines, the outside covering was cut and torn, both, from the carcass, which is made to turn in the water, as the windlass is re- volved, by an ingenious adjustment of ropes and tackle, until all the blubber is taken off, leaving a red meat covering the skeleton. This red meat is not a bad-flavored one, when fresh, tasting something like coarse beef, though stronger and redder. If it were attempted to re- move the fatty covering from one side of the whale at a time, there would be some danger of losing it, besides requiring more time and labor to accom- plish the operation. When the blubber is all inboard and stored the head is brought to the gangway, a tackle clapped on to it, and, when a large one, it is hoisted high enough above the surface of the water to separate the junk from the case, hoisted on board and hove up to the plank shear; an opening large enough is made in it to admit the case bucket, when the head matter is bailed out. The process of trying out is the same for both animals. The procedure of stripping the whale now being ended, the blubber on board, and no whales being in sight, the work of rendering begins. The fat comes from the carcass in long strips called ' ' blanket 170 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S pieces," and these are divided into chunks from fifteen to eighteen inches long by six to eight inches broad, called "horse pieces." These are then dropped into a " strap-tub," and taken to a machine known as a mincing horse, where it is cut into small bits and dropped into a mincing tub. From the mincing tub it is pitched into the try-pot, with a blubber fork, and boiled into oil. The contents of the try-pot are stirred frequently to keep it from settling to the bottom and burning. When the scraps which float to the top show brown enough, and the expert whaleman knows from appearances, to indicate that the oil is well tried out, they are skimmed oft* with a perforated dipper and dropped into a scrap hopper that the remaining oil may drip away. These scraps are used under the try-pot for fuel. The whole operation of trying out is exactly similar to what every farmer does in the Fall of the year at what is called " hog-killing" time, and rendering into lard the fat of the hog. From the try-pot the oil is ladled into large cool- ing coppers, from where it passes, when cooled, through a hose into casks which are already stowed and then bunged. Formerly it was the practice to draw the oil off into a deck-pot, and from there into casks on deck, where it was bunged, rolled away and lashed to the ship's rail. Now, however, the casks are lowered into the hold empty, and filled as they are stowed in layers, thus avoiding WHALING VOYAGE. 171 the labor and time of lowering them full and stow- ing them away. When the trying-out is being rapidly done, as it is when the hold is full of blubber, the casks are often filled with oil that is not sufficiently cooled off . The heat causes them to leak , and the cooper is kept busy driving hoops to prevent leakage until the oil cools. The case oil is put into barrels by itself, sometimes without boiling, but carefully scalded, together with the junk and a portion of the hump, and put away marked cc head matter." After the blubber is tried out and stowed below, the decks are cleaned up with a lye made of the ashes from the furnace beneath the try-pot. The ship is thoroughly cleaned, the deck washed and holy-stoned at least, the holy-stone was used on the decks of the Peri, though J believe it is not the custom among whaling captains generally. The grimy clothing of the crew is washed and hung out to dry, seized to one of the stays, and, fore and aft, cleanliness prevails, to be upset again, however, by the next cry of " There she blows." In the early days of whaling, when all the fish- ing grounds were replete with the monster game, from Boston to the Brazils, ships of ten caught more whales than could ,be " cut in " and tried out before " blasting ;" but in these days of active competi- tion, when the game is hunted from one haunt to another, the numbers growing less or the prey going no one knows where, the term "blubber- 172 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S logged," that is, more than can be utilized, is no longer in vogue. But a small vessel, having good luck, (and nearly all now engaged in the trade are of moderate dimensions,) sometimes fills up with oil, and after that, if more whales are captured the whalebone is taken from the head, and the carcass sent adrift to become the property of whoever picks it up, or it is eaten by the sharks. It is oftener, however, devoured by these ravenous monsters if the carcass does not sink. When the ship is full of blubber and another whale is captured, the bone secured and the carcass cast loose, the captain and crew almost weep to see, perhaps, a hundred-barrel whale drift- ing away. At present whales are so scarce, even on the Arctic grounds, that no chance is taken of having one escape, consequently all the storage-room below is choke-full with blubber before the try- works are fired up that is, as long as a whale is to be had. When the " spouts" become infrequent, or cease to become frequent enough to encourage the lowering of the boats, operations commence at the try-pot. The try-pot is a large iron vessel holding a great many gallons I never knew just how many, inclosed in substantial brick work just aft of the foremast, and all held together by iron braces and wood- work, under which is the fire furnace. One would think the sea, in case of a storm, would wash it overboard and send it flying into a thousand WHALING VOYAGE. 173 pieces over the rail or through the bulwark; but that seldom happens. Years ago it was believed that the habitat of the sperm whale w r as in the depths of the ocean it only coming to the surface occasionally and that it was peculiar to temperate latitudes. But it has been seen and caught in every ocean, except the frozen regions. In former years, all along the coast of California, from San Diego to the Mexican line , on to Panama and off the coasts of Peru and Chile, were prolific whaling grounds. The Bay of Monterey was at one time famous for the whale fisheries established there permanently; but the fishing was prosecuted with such vigor that the whales ceased to resort to that locality as breeding grounds. There became in reality more whalers than whales, and the works of capturing and trying out went to ruin for lack of occupation. There was a small whale called the " California Grayback," which frequented the bayous all along the coast of California. They congregated in great numbers in any inlet that afforded them swimming room, as these were the breeding places selected, by some instinct which prompted them, to crowd such places for having their young. The Grayback had, and still has, as a remembrance, the reputation of having been a devil incarnate in his temperament and ability for damage and destruction, to his cap- tors and their boats. It is now extinct on this coast, so far as profitable pursuit is concerned. CHAPTER XVIII. MYSTERIES OF THE SEA. No landsman can have an adequate idea of the vicissitudes which surround the life of a mariner, of the mysteries which can never be explained even by those who go down to the sea in ships, whether they go from choice or necessity, or of the dangers that are ever imminent, though not visible, ready to launch their furies as fate may have ordained. The current history of life, the daily papers, relates to its readers that such and such ships are due in port; then comes the appalling announce- ment that they are overdue and probably lost, after which commences a series of theories to account for their non-arrival. But, all of a sudden, a new wonder springs up and conjecture is silenced in favor of the latest excitement; the vessels are never heard of again, and those who were on board of them are never heard of more, but are given up for lost; the forms of grief are gone through with, time partially curing the affliction. The memory of the ill-fated vessels, and those who embarked in them, passengers and crew, become apart of the .mystery of the unfathomed deep. What, it may be pertinently asked, becomes of WHALING VOYAGE. 175 all the never-returning ships which put to sea in command of experienced captains and. carefully- selected crews ? They are certainly not stolen by captains who convert them to their own use, chang- ing names and identity, thus becoming owners without going through the mercantile forms of barter and sale; for the record of every vessel and every boat, above a certain tonnage, is compelled by the laws of our country to have a registry which is known all over the world. They are not carried off by mutinous crews and scuttled, for sailors are not generally navigators, and if they were, detection would most likely follow. They do not turn pirates, for the occupation of the sea-rover is a thing of the past. Of course, then, if they are never heard of again after leaving the port of departure, they must founder in some violent storm or terrible accident, giving no time for those on board to escape; or, if escaping into the boats, they may even then go to the bottom with the ships; or, sadder still, may be burned with all on board, leaving none to tell the story of disaster and death by fire or storm. To a seaman, only, is it possible to conjure up scenes of disaster, such as his daily life at sea teach him to know, of dire events happening on the limitless ocean. Let us try and account for some of the disappearances of staunch ships from the surface of the great oceans. A ship sails, the officers and crew full of the hope of a short and prosperous voyage. For 176 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S weeks the wind and weather are propitious, the sails swelling out from the tapering masts filled with a power which moves the hull toward its destination. Suddenly an odor of something burning comes to the senses of those on board; a curling film of smoke ascends heavenward, from no one knows where as yet, the precursor of a dreadful fate. The sea runs in mountains, the officers and crew are terror-stricken, and the passengers crowd the deck in the depth of despair. The pumps refuse to work, from long disuse, and buckets are brought into requisition, as though pigmies might combat a hydra-headed monster. The film of smoke increases to a dense and blinding substance, uniting with the floating clouds above, and then, thicker and thicker, until everything is enveloped, polluting the atmos- phere of the deck. Fire bursts out from unexpected places, writhing with flaming tongues of forked destruction, when the startling cry is wrung from agonized souls, ' ' The ship is on fire ! " The flames run like mad- dened fiends, leaping from deck to rigging, from rigging to sails, until the beautiful structure is a pyramid of fire with the consuming hull as a base. The decks are glowing, too hot for human endur- ance, and the wind rages in unison with sea and flame. The boats are lowered, but swamped with their human freight as soon as cast off; those who are in them struggle in vain for a few moments WHALING VOYAGE. 177 with the angry ocean and all are lost sinking to rise no more until the final day. The sea is illumined for a space round the burn- ing fabric, like a haze of thick weather, which in a few hours consumes to the surface of the sea sinking into fathoms of depth. The owners await the return of the venture they have sent out with their money; relatives keep silent vigil until the pulse of hope grows- weaker, dying out in despair. Again. The night is of cimmerian hue ; the ship has lost her reckoning, the gale driving the sea into mountain billows. Two men stand at the wheel. The storm-king rides upon the blast, rioting in all the fury of his might to fulfill a destiny already shaped out. All at once , with dismay in his ghastly tone, the lookout at the bow cries, in a voice of despair, "Breakers ahead 1" All is commotion. An attempt is made to put the ship about. It is too late, and she goes crashing into a reef of rocks, pounding her life out to the shriek of the storm, until every timber groans as though it were human. The boats are lowered, but swept away as though impelled by the invisible hand of some giant power. The men climb into the rigging. The masts are wrenched from their steps, adding the thunder of their fall to that of the vengeful tempest. Men are washed overboard, wounded, maimed, drowned. When daylight comes, the sea is toying with its victim. Not a soul is left to witness the floating wreckage swelling about the reef upon which the ill-fated vessel drove to destruction. 178 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S The owners at home figure up in their ledgers the cost of the vessel and cargo, the expenses of the voyage, leaving out of the calculation what may be the expenditure in human life, and await in vain to fill out the completed account. The mourners sit at the desolate fireside in loving expectancy, until ' ' hope deferred sickeneth the soul. " Again. A ship takes in her freight, and a crew is shipped. The rattling of the chain-cable rings out to the clank of the windlass pauls, as the anchor is broken from its hold on the bottom, to the heave of the sailors, chanting a song of hope and safe return. Farewell greetings are exchanged, and the vessel goes flying on her journey, the white wings of commerce spread to the favoring winds, dashing over the tossing wave for a port she shall never reach. Some brutality of the captain, perhaps of the other officers, too, or, an idle superstition has taken possession of the crew. Some of them refuse to do duty, and the offending men are put in irons and sent below. The remaining ones sympathize with their fellows, demanding their release. The captain refuses, when the whole crew revolt; undis- guised mutiny stalks the deck, and all hands refuse to put hand to work. The captain undertakes to coerce those who are not in irons, when the mutineers takes possession of the ship. Liquor is broached, drunkenness ensues, and the officers are murdered. The men have no knowl- edge of navigation and become frightened at their WHALING VOYAGE. 179 own deeds. They victual and water the boats, and, scuttling the ship, sail away quarreling among themselves. They are, perhaps, lost, or, reaching land somewhere, pass themselves off for ship- wrecked seamen. The ship fills and disappears from the blue ocean. There remains no tell-tale hull as a message to those who are waiting at home to receive the loved ones who shall never appear. All sailors know the dangers of the sea, owners of ships groan at their losses in ships and cargoes, and marine insurance companies pay annual losses to large amounts on vessels which seemed a fair risk, but which never return to the home port. Occasionally a piece of wreckage is picked up at sea, by which the fate of a long overdue ship may be known; a peculiar spar, or figure-head, or name-board is seen floating, the gilded letters glint- ing in the sun as the remaining splinter of a once noble hull mounts to the crest of a snow-capped billow as if in search of some lost thing, but sinking back into valleys of dark green water. Our old hulk was bowling along four or five knots an hour, witk a rattling breeze over the port bow, the yards braced round jam against the rig- ging, under close-reef ed topsails , reefed foresail and foretopmast-staysail and double-reefed spanker. The sea now and again gave the starboard bow a blow solid with a bank of water which sent a wash aboard and a salt spray half way to the foremast- head, which descended to the deck in drenching showers, and ran in a mad race _to the lee scup- 180 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S pers, where they struggled in great seething bubbles to escape. This sort of weather continued for three days and nights with fitful squalls and alternate taking off and putting on sail. All expected that the ship would have to be stripped of every inch of canvas, and let scud under bare poles. But the weather continued about the same, and on the fourth day we were able to carry more sail, until we were staggering under everything except to'gallant-sails and royals. The royals had been clewed up, and one of the boys was ordered aloft to furl the main royal, which was blowing loose and slatting about. When he got up as far as the topgallant masthead, he found that his shoes were too heavy and would not permit him to go higher, and, slipping down to the main top, he took them off and started again, shinned it up to the royal yard, stowing the sail away in sailor-like fashion. The wind gradually died away, when more sail was put on, and, by noon, there was scarcely wind enough to disturb a feather. There was a bank of fog rolling up which either indicated a wet time or a storm. It grew thicker and thicker until it com- pletely enveloped oar craft; it was of that density that nothing could be seen through it. The masts were hidden, the rigging only supposable. There was a faint whiteness where the sails hung upon the masts and yards, but it was impossible to see faces or forms upon the deck. The fog settled down over us in a solid bank. It WHALING VOYAGE. 181 was a wet solitude, the gunwales were a part of the fog bank, and the sea merged into the fog. The man at the wheel was the only one who could be located, except the lookout at the bow, and they seemed like drenched phantoms. It was so still, so solemn, so much of a solitude, that there was scarcely any use of a lookout. Not a sound was heard, except a soft slopping of the sea as it ran aft along the vessel's sides. This condition of weather lasted until about ten o'clock at night, when the fog melted away before the pressure of a feeble breeze, which gradually increased to a good stiff one, filling the sails and starting the idle old hulk again on its way. The moon appeared in her silver glory, sailing across a wide expanse of blue sky, and the stars came out of the^azure ground of the heavens, as though the re was some magic in their movements, studding the celestial vault with points and streaks, and streams of polished silver. The next day we had light winds and rain, the weather settling down again into the same sort of a fog we had experienced the day before. But it cleared away again, and so remained for about two weeks, when a spout was seen from the masthead. The boats were lowered, and soon we were in pursuit of a whale. The boats got fast to him, and when he was converted into oil, we had about eighty more barrels to add to our cargo. CHAPTER XIX. WHALE-BOATS. THE whale-boat is unlike any other boat in exis- tence. It has some of the lines of a boat, as boat- builders call the form; but the one used for captur- ing whales has lines peculiarly its own, and appur- tenances which have grown out of the combined experience of as many years as the fraternity of whalemen is old, and is better adapted for just what it has developed into than any other form of boat yet conceived. The world will be much older before any modification of importance takes place in its shape and construction unless steam whale- boats should supersede them, which is not probable. Should steam take the place of oars, sail and muscle in the chase and capture of the oily levia- than, there would of necessity be some modification in its shape and construction. The present shape, build and adaptation to the business of whaling cannot, it is agreed, be improved upon. The construction of this boat is a matter of the closest calculation; the beam, the length, the position of the thwarts, the length of the oars, the height of the sides above the sea, the shear of the ' ' gunnel " from amidships to both ends of the clipper-like thing, are the result of a 182 WHALING VOYAGE. 183 varied experience, acquired by whalemen engaged in active pursuit of the whale. The combined points are all designed for speed, safety and facility of movement, in either direction, to meet the vicissitudes of the dangerous and ven- turesome occupation of whaling. Steam whale-boats have been employed to some extent, but the objection has been that the escaping steam makes so much noise as to "galley" the whale when going on to it. The uses of the steam whale-boat, which is built somewhat like a man-of- war launch, and not like the beautiful and clean- built double-end whale-boat, has so far been used for towing the regular ship's boats quickly to the vicinity of the whale to be struck ; for towing the dead whale to the ship, and, also, for chasing wounded whales which have broken loose after being fastened to. From their maintained speed a wounded whale is not apt to escape from them in open water. These steam-launches are about twenty-eight feet long, with an upright boiler, using coal as a fuel. The whale-boat proper is from twenty-eight to thirty feet long, clean lined as a bird and resting on the water as daintily as a duck, topping the waves with as much ease as that aquatic fowl. The heaviest parts of the structure are the gunwales, keel and stem, and stern posts, which are equivalent to the arch and keystone of a spanning structure, binding the whole together and imparting that strength and stiffness to the entire fabric which is 184 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S so important to the trials and dangers it must undergo. The planking is white cedar, inch and a half thick, and the timbers are of some hard wood three- quarters of an inch thick, not sawn, but steamed into shape in a steam chest, such as every boat builder has as a part of his establishment. The thwarts are generally of one-and-a-quarter inch pine, having their bearing on steamed knees of great strength, securely fastened. The forward, or bow-oar thwart, is made with a hole in it, through which the mast is put and secured into a step under- neath. This thwart rests upon a double row of substantial knees to give it strength, that sail may be carried when occasion requires; the knees are made of steamed hacmatack. At the forward end of the boat, through what is called the " cuddy-board" is a conical-shaped post called "logger-head," designed for checking the line when it is running out too fast, and a deep groove in the- stem, fitted with a roller, or something stationary, which may be replaced when worn out, for the safe delivery of the line when fast to a running whale, and going at a speed of ten miles an hour. A certain space in the bow contains a box in which is coiled the line, on to which the harpoon is bent. Back of this box is a securely-fastened thick plank, the " clumsycleat," having an opening against which the boat-steerer braces his knee to give him purchase in throwing the iron. WHALING VOYAGE. 185 On the gunwale the tholepins are placed, made of hard wood, and put at proper distances, in which the oars may have room to play; the oars are kept well greased, and muffled with mats, so that in approaching a whale they may make as little noise as possible, letting the boat sneak upon the prey without ' ' galleying " it and causing it to run away. As silence and celerity are essential conditions of capture, great care is taken that the boats are in a condition to glide over the water with as little fric- tion as possible, to the end that the prey may not escape. Therefore, the planking outside, and the bottom also, is, or ought to be, kept perfectly smooth by frequent sand-papering and painting. The equipment of the boat when in chase con- sists of a line tub, in which is coiled three hundred fathoms of line, one thousand eight hundred feet, and so coiled as to prevent any mishap in running out, such as kinking in the outrun as the whale dashes away infuriated with the "iron" in his huge carcass, a mast and sprit-sail, and five oars. The harpoon oars, and after oars, are fourteen feet long, the tub, and bow, oars sixteen feet long, and the midship oars eighteen feet long, being so placed that the two shorter ones and one of the longest pull against two sixteen-foot oars, thus keeping the boat balanced during the chase, encounter and cap- ture. This is when the boat is propelled by four oars , the harpoon oar being ' * a peak " the boat is steered with a twenty-two foot oar, working through a grommet on the stern post. 186 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP^ The gear of the boat is " live harpoons," that is, those in use, including the one bent on to the line. The spare irons are made fast fore-and-aft of the boat inside the " gunnel " above the thwarts, and lances are secured in the same way. These are all kept sharp and protected by sheaths of soft wood. The head of the harpoon is a straight, triangular iron secured by a rivet to the shank of the socket. Into the socket is inserted a stout staff of hard, green wood about six feet long. Sometimes the head of the harpoon is a long, narrow strip of iron made fast to the socket by a rivet, so that before it is thrown into the whale it is on a line with the shank; but, when it enters the blubber and the line tautens, the blade drops to a right-angled position, making it more difficult to draw out when the whale runs. The upper part of the shank is about thirty inches long, having a socket into which is fitted a green oak or hickory pole about six feet long. An ' ' eye- splice," made of whale line, is wrapped below the socket, so that it won't slip. In the bow of the boat are put a water-keg, lan- tern, candles, a compass, and a hatchet within easy reach of the boat-steerer in case he is obliged to cut loose. Everything necessary to dress wounds is stored in a safe place in case of accident; also, flags for signaling, a fluke-spade, boat-hook and drag. Into the boat, when in chase of a whale, are crowded all of the above, with six men, which, to a WHALING VOYAGE. 187 greenhorn, look as though they had been thrown in helter-skelter. On the contrary, so disastrous is the result if anything goes wrong, that all is arranged in order, to act a certain part in the capture. Sometimes, however, in the haste to respond to the cry of " There she blows!" mistakes are made, and acci- dents which may cost one or more lives are the result. The whale-boat used by the Esquimaux is best adapted to their style of fishing, for the reason that they whale from the shore, not having a storing- place for the blubber as the whale-ship has. When they kill a whale it is towed ashore. The Esquimaux boat, called a " baidarka" is very peculiar in its construction. First, a frame is made of wooden strips lashed together with green thongs of walrus hide. This is left to dry, and, the thongs, shrinking as they dry, draw the parts of the frame closely and stiffly together, making it firmer and more compact than if put together with nails, after which the frame is covered with green walrus hide, which takes the place of planking on an ordinary boat; and this is left to dry thoroughly, the hide shrinking into all the inequalities of the structure, occasioned by the peculiar construction of the frame, and binding the whole together into a most service- able boat. The "baidarka" is from twenty-five to thirty feet long, carrying generally eight men. The har- poons of the Esquimaux are made of ivory, with a 188 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S sharp point of slate, stone or iron. The equipment of the " baidarka " is a mast, which serves a double purpose, being used to stretch the sail, and, also, as a staff for the harpoon; a large knife and eight paddles. This boat is not built double-ended , as the regu- lar whale-boat is, but has very much the appear- ance of what is known in the inland waters of the southern part of the United States as a " cunner," or ' ' dugout. " This "dugout" is generally made in one piece from the trunk of a large pine or cypress tree, and hollowed out with tools suitable for the purpose, or burned out by fire, the fire being applied carefully; and, as it chars, the coals are taken out until deep enough to be smoothed and shaped inside. Much more might be said upon the question of whale-boats, but enough description is had above merely to give the reader an idea of what sort of boats are used in the whale industry. CHAPTER XX. AROUND CAPE HORN. WE were row in the month of December, and steering to round Cape Horn. Crossing the equa- tor we ran down to within a few degrees of the coast of South America, to the westward of the Falkland Islands, and through the Straits of Le Maire, with a staying wind from N. N. E. , a steady barometer, and all the indications of fair and set- tled weather. Leaving the straits we steered for the Horn, taking a S. W. course with wind from N. E. to S. W. , doubling the Cape as close as wind and weather would permit. We had a fairly good passage into the Pacific. It was not as ugly and boisterous as my imagination had pictured it from the yarns I had heard in the forecastle it was as rough as I wanted it, though. We saw the Magellan group, which are three small misty vaporish clouds, in the southern part of the heavens, showing just above the horizon, after we crossed the southern tropic. The Southern Cross came into view, beginning to appear at about 18 N. , being, when we were off Cape Horn, nearly above us. It was a lovely night, the pale moon sailing through an unflecked sky shorn of her chariot of flaky clouds, and accom- 189 190 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S panied by all that celestial procession visible at night in that latitude. It took our old hulk about sixty days to round the Horn into the Pacific, with some bad weather, of course; but on the whole it was not such a dread- ful passage as it had been painted not this time. Once into the Pacific, we cruised along, picking up a whale now and then, about two hundred and fifty miles off the coast of Chile, between 45 and 46 South, and round the Island of Huago, the south end of Chiloe Island, off Mocha Island, off the port of Talcahuana, and round the islands of Juan Fernandez and Masafuero. We worked our way toward Panama, where we refitted. This city is one of the oldest in America, and belongs to the United States of Colombia. It is essentially a Spanish town, having been founded by the early Spanish adventurers and explorers. It is situated on what is called Panama Bay, which is not a harbor, but only a long indentation of the coast; and, in approaching it, one has no idea that it is a bay. There is a water-gate, giving entrance to the city, and here all must land who approach in boats or launches. There are no wharves, as in other cities. Passengers crossing the Isthmus by rail land from a tug at a long wharf situated at the lower part of the city. Nearly the entire front of Panama is protected from approach by a bed of lava-colored rock, which is almost entirely covered at high tide. Frowning over this rocky bed are the ruins of a WHALING VOYAGE. 191 once massive fort, the, dungeons of which, if I re- member, were then used as a prison. The entrance to the city, to which one mounts from a boat, is through a gateway, led up to by a short flight of well-worn stone steps. At this gateway, opening out into the bay, congregate all the boatmen, sailors and idlers of all descriptions and of many nations, with a quota of native policemen armed with rifles and clad in blue uniforms trimmed with red. Entering this gate way, one is ushered into the narrow quaint streets of a Spanish town, having adobe houses, ruined churches, a half -Moorish Cathedral, and, to an American, a cosmopolitan population. This old town was founded in 1673, and is New Panama. Old Panama was some ten miles farther down the bay, was founded in 1518, and was the treasure house for all the gold, silver and precious stones of those Spanish-conquered countries. The buccaneers and sea-rovers of the sixteenth century robbed it whenever there was anything to carry off. Morgan, the freebooter, sacked it in 1671, driving overland to the Atlantic side one hundred and seventy-five mules laden with treasure. The present Panama was founded in 1673. The streets are narrow, as are all streets laid out by the Spanish conquerers, and on some of them the houses are as high as three stories, though there are modern ones from which balconies jut out over the foot- way, so that, if inclined, the dwellers might fight a duel from opposite sides of the street. 192 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S There are many old adobe houses of one story, as old as the settlement itself, and one or two good- sized hotels. Churches are numerous, perhaps thirty of them, including monasteries, the most of which are in ruins or in a patched-up condition of preservation, but all old and venerable. There is the inevitable cock-pit, one of the foun- dation stones of the Spanish- American settlements , and the just as inevitable arena for bull fights, both of which are Sunday amusements. It is, no doubt, a trait belonging to mankind and common to the peopled world to enjoy a contest of any sort, whether between birds or dogs, four-footed or two- legged animals. But to a rightly-balanced mind, these contests, to be enjoyable, must grow out of the passions as awakened by the instinct of self-preservation. The horse trots, because it is the exercise of a power given him by nature, and because he enjoys it when in good condition; the dog goes to the rescue of his master with a ferocious instinct of justice; the wild animals of the forest fight for supremacy, guided by the instinct of self-preserva- tion; and man, the embodiment of physical perfec- tion and intellectual strength, combats for right, for love of country, to resent insult, and in defence of those depending upon him. In all this there is no brutality it is Divine wisdom. It is only when man comes in with a refinement of cruelty, made keen by the greed of gain, that this natural propensity to combat is erected into WHALING VOYAGE. 193 crime, under the pressure of cruel devices invented by the superior animal, man. Thus, the cock is provided with sabre-like, razor- edged, steel spurs with which to end the battle by slashing thrusts. The animals for the arena are bred to an exaggerated instinct of combat for the pleasure and profit of his brain superior man. The horse is often put to his paces when out of con- dition and cruelly forced to a gait that, were he in condition, he would perform with ease and spirit; and man, noble man, he is fitted with " gloves" and made to stand up in a prescribed space before his fellow, against whom he has no grievance, for a wager; all the noble instincts of manhood prosti- tuted to the greedy desire of possessing a purse of gold by studying how his opponent may be beaten into insensibility long enough for him to claim a sum that brains could not win in a lifetime. But I am not a reformer. I denied myself the cock-pit, for the reason that I deemed it brutal indeed , the most brutal exhibi- tion of man's rapacity, except the so-called sport of a dog-fight. There was an exhibition which I did not resist. I had never seen anything of the kind , and was prepared to do violence to my feelings, with a promise to myself that I would not so offend again. This contest, of which I am going to tell you, was to be a battle between an ordinary , every-day steer and a tiger. The tiger was a part of a stranded (13) 194 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S menagerie and circus, and the proceeds of the show were to enable the troupe to escape being jailed for non-payment of debts. The steer was taken from a herd at pasture, and the combat was expected to be a gory one. There was a large crowd gathered of all classes, and the musical tones of the beautiful Spanish language was prostituted to urging on a hoped-for bloody and deadly combat. It was in the regular arena, a space open to the sky and provided with benches topping each other in gradual ascent. The noise was Babel when the steer was let in, and cries of "bravo," " bravissimo " ' ( bravississimo " greeted the animal. The steer sauntered in and commenced browsing on the clumps of succulent grass growing around the edges of the slaughter-pen, without being dis- turbed in the least at the noise of his welcome. After the eyes of the expectant crowd had feasted on the steer, and cries of impatience rent the air for the appearance of the tiger, that animal was let in, or rather dragged in, for he seemed more a great good-natured cat than a wild blood-thirsty beast. The steer continued plucking the grass, occasion- ally ruminating, taking no notice of the antagonist he was expected to meet. The tiger, when rushed into the arena, went to the border-line of the enclos- ure in a stealthy, cat-like way, and squatted down with extended paws, into which he put his head in the most complacently domestic way imaginable. WHALING VOYAGE. 195 He looked lazily around as if he were in no way interested in the scene or in the crowd present, and commenced polishing his massive head with his great paws, as a cat does when washing her face, and so continued with an occasional rest and yawn, and resumption of the toilet. The steer, deliberately grazing, found his way around to the tiger. Expectation was rampant, hoping to see the tiger leap upon the steer and begin the fight. The steer, however, seemed to have no animosity against the tiger, the latter being in even as amiable a condition of mind. The steer lowered his head in a friendly way, giving a half snort, and the tiger responded by raising up his eyes to see who the visitor was. The crowd cried out ' Caramba! caramba! No es bueno." The toreros were sent in with waving red cloths and prods to stir the combatants up for the satisfaction of those who had paid to see blood. But neither of the animals would fight; it was not in them. They not only refused to show any warlike spirit, but on the contrary evinced a disposition to frater- nize. The steer was a peaceful animal, not bred for the arena, and the tiger had been punched so much with hot irons while a performing animal that the savageness of his nature had been rooted out, and in its place had set in a cat-like amiability beauti- ful to behold. The show ended much to my satisfaction, but not to that of the crowd which had paid for streams of gore. The air was filled with shouts of rollicking 196 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S laughter and profanity, with cries of " Caramba! Noesbueno! Noesbueno!" Ruins of churches and convents may be seen in almost any part of Panama. There is a great plaza, upon which stands a large and lofty cathedral, which is open day and night. At each corner of this ecclesiastical structure arises a square tower with open belfry, terminating in a small Moorish dome, between which and the open belfry is a wide band inlaid with shells of the pearl oyster. These show their beautiful mother-of-pearl in- terior, glimmering and shimmering in the sun's rays like burnished silver. This cathedral was erected in 1760, and has been partially destroyed by earthquake several times, but is now in a fair architectural condition. In this cathedral may be seen, high above the altar, an image of our Saviour, twice life-sized, of solid silver. Now and then one meets with an ancient Spanish adobe house, in a Moorish cast of structure; but they are rare now, time having swept them away. There is a very old church standing down toward the water front. The whole interior shows the ravages of time, and these are made more apparent by modern attempts to preserve it. There is in this church an image of our Lord on the Cross, which to me was excruciatingly painful ; t was realistic; so lifelike with its air of suffering and anguish as to make one shudder, the lineaments portraying the most intense agony. High up on the towers of the cathedral, good- WHALING VOYAGE. 197 sized trees were growing, larger than one's wrist, probably from seed wafted across the Pacific, or deposited by migratory birds. They seemed to have a good firm rooting, and were green with life and vigor. The Isthmus of Panama is about on the line between Central and South America, and it is here that De Lesseps commenced the work of the Panama Canal. The advantages of a ship canal across this narrowest part of Central America has invited the interest of the engineers of the world for over three hundred years. There is in the town library of Neuremburg a globe of the date 1520, made by a mathematician named John Schoner, upon which is traced a line of canal across the Isthmus of Panama the project is almost as old as the discoveries of the Spaniards. It was plain that the whole undertaking was in a state of stagnation. Along the line of the rail- road from Panama to Colon were millions of dollars worth of material and property going to waste, and thousands of men of nearly all nations waiting for whatever might turn up. At Colon, or Aspin- wall, there was more open daylight wickedness than I had any idea could exist anywhere. We visited el palacio of De Lesseps, at Colon. It was surrounded by the most exquisite grounds, quite a park, and filled with tropical plants and fruits. In front of el palacio stood a bronze statue of Columbus. This work of art was presented to the Republic of Colombia by the Empress Engenie, 198 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S and so little was it appreciated that it lay for a long time in the mud, where it was dumped, before it was set up. Colon, at the time we were there, was one of the wickedest places I had ever seen, being crowded with a cosmopolitan population, composed of natives, negroes from Jamaica, and in fact nearly all nations, attracted there by the prospect of work and fat contracts from the Canal Company, and all were out of employment. The plank sidewalks were crowded with gaming tables, and the lust of gold was as vividly portrayed by the whole popula- tion as that shown by the buccaneers of old, who crossed the Isthmus, fresh from despoiling ancient Panama, to ship their plunder on the Atlantic. CHAPTER XXI. PROMOTION. OXE morning, Mr. Ryder hailed me as I was passing forward, saying: "Quickstep, the old man wants you in the cabin." ' ' All right. Shall I go now ? " I asked, anxiously. " Yes, go just as you are/' Now, the old man on shipboard always means the captain. No matter what his age may be, that familiar cognomen is applied to him. If he is a good, kind officer, his discipline tempered with con- sideration, the nick-name is used with as much affection as Jack is capable of; but if he is cruel, exacting and bad tempered, it becomes one of defiance. Speaking of the captain of another ship, the name * ' skipper " is the one always used. I could not imagine what I had been summoned to the cabin for, not being aware that my duty had not been done , or that I was delinquent in any way. However, I was wanted, and that was an order, not a request, which I proceeded to comply with, and, in some trepidation made my appearance in the quarters aft. Entering, I spoke up: " Mr. Ryder said I was wanted aft here, sir." "Yes," answered Captain Ransom, "I have consulted with Mr. Ryder about putting some one 199 200 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S in the place of the man we have lost the boat- steerer. The mate has spoken very well of you, and if you think you understand the duties, I will appoint you to Guy's place." This confused and partially stunned me for a moment indeed, it quite took my breath away, so unexpected was it. However, I stiffened up my courage, replying: "I am familiar with the duties, sir, though I have never struck a whale, and I would very much like to have the promotion. But I am sorry that I am going to get it at the expense of the death of a shipmate." " That is a generous sentiment/' said the captain, "but we are all liable to sudden death, and it may be your turn next, though I hope not, for it is a sad enough event to have seen two men taken from the crew in one voyage. " "It is, sir, as you say; but we all take that chance when we ship. I thank you, sir, for this favor, and will endeavor to do my duty." ' ' Upon that depends your retention of the place. You will now mess with the mates/ The steward was sent to bring the mate, who came immediately, and, upon entering the cabin, was accosted by the captain: "Mr. Ryder, Quickstep has been advanced to the place which the lost Guy had, and in future will mess with the mates. You understand ? " "Yes, sir; fully." I backed myself out without another word, leav- WHALING VOYAGE. 201 ing the mate in conversation with the " old man," and stood outside in a sort of daze at my good for- tune I could not yet realize it. But, being a most decided promotion, it pleased me very much, and, besides, it took me out of the forecastle. That meant to me a great deal it was a step forward in my ambitious plans of advancing myself to com- mand. Some hours after, I noticed Mr. Ryder standing at the lee rail, looking over at the tumble of the sea , working itself into swelling hills and valleys capped with frothy foam and tossing spray by the drive of the wind. Going up to him with gratitude in my heart, and stammering on my tongue, I said: " Mr. Ryder, I thank you for your share in my promotion I will try to merit it." "Oh, that's nothing, my lad. The 'old man' asked me, and, thinking you deserved it, I said so. I never knew you to ' skulk* or * sojer,' and that's the only kind of a man to take the boat's head in a chase. " I thanked him again, and went to my work with a light heart. I think the men were not displeased at my good luck. Ned Ricks was enthusiastic about it, that is so far as words went, and they, of course, were sincere; but his features retained that immobile rigidity so natural to him, nothing like the faintest shadow of a smile appearing, not a muscle of his face betrayed it. With genuine feel- ing he came up to me, speaking before I could get a chance: 202 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S " I'm right glad, shipmate, that you've got out'en the fok'sle, "cause ye desarves it. Thet won't make no difrence about our bein' frens, will it ?" The latter part of the question being drawn out as if to have confirmed, what I am sure he was already con- fident of. " Why, no, Ned; not if I were captain." " I knowed it," said the simple-hearted fellow, and went forward to his work. I soon settled down to my new place, the duties being the same, except when the boats were low- ered, the difference being in my escaping the for- ward quarters, and having a station in the head of the boat when in chase of a whale. Cutting in a bowhead differs somewhat from that of cutting in the sperm whale. In the latter, it will be remembered, the head is cut off, while in the former, the head is not so separated from the body. The whole inside of the upper part of the head or jaw of the bowhead, containing the bone, is taken out, hoisted on deck, the slabs cleaned free of the gums, in which they are embedded, and, after thorough drying, are stowed away in the hold. The bone located in the upper jaw, and the head is nearly all upper jaw, consists of a series of whale- bone plates, or slabs, acting as a sort of curtain with fringed edges, which drop down inside the lower jaw, forming a kind of sieve through which the animal strains the water, taken into the enor- mous chamber inside the jaws, from the food, by WHALING VOYAGE. 203 violently ejecting the water through the fringed edges of the plates, leaving the food to be swallowed. The bowhead is from forty to fifty feet long, some- times much longer, the largest yielding from two hundred to two hundred and seventy-five barrels of oil, and from three thousand to three thousand five hundred pounds of bone. The bowhead is the goal of every whaleman's ambition on account of its immense yield of oil and bone. This leviathan seldom attains a length of sixty feet, although larger ones have been caught. It is a stout-bodied animal, and what it lacks in length is compensated for in circumference. Its ponderous head, it has been guessed, is more than one-third the entire length of the monster from lip to fluke. Behind the plates of bone is an enormous tongue, which is hidden and incapable of protrusion; it is a fatty mass interlaced with sinewy flesh, yielding about one-tenth the quantity of oil procured from the blubber. The excitement of chasing whales varies in inten- sity according to the number sighted, and according also to the circumstances attending the capture of each. One yielding up the ghost in a short time, another making a prolonged fight, lasting for hours, even for a whole day. It sometimes happens that all the boats belonging to a ship are stove by the whales , one after the other, and utterly ruined , defy- ing the carpenter's efforts to patch them into the semblance of a boat. 204 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S Then the captain, in order to continue his voyage, is obliged to depend upon getting boats from other vessels of the fleet, procuring one from this ship, another from that, until he has as many as he needs for his purposes. In this the whalemen are all lib- eral, as any one of them may be caught the same way. Often the boats, in the eagerness of pursuit, lose sight of the ship; or, a storm arising, the crew have to remain out all night, managing to keep the ship's position as near as possible, in dew, rain and storm, to be picked up the next day, or perhaps, two or three days after, cold, wet, wearied and starving. It may happen that they drift about the ocean until some passing vessel rescues them from a state of suffering, by both thirst and hunger. Horable to speak of, they may never be seen again, drifting to remote parts of the ocean, out of the track of vessels, where, without food or water, they per- ish in storm and tempest, or, in a summer sea of glory, dying by inevitable fate. Many times in the arctic regions, in a sea of ice, hail and snow, the ship is surrounded for days, often weeks, with icebergs and hummocks, which hold in inhospitable grip both vessel and crew. Some- times when a whale gets ' * good and fast " he descends into deep water, where he remains " sulk- ing " for hours, as if to tire the enemy out, or freeze him to death. He must come up, however, to breathe, and when he does, it is in somewhat of an exhausted state, WHALING VOYAGE 205 when an iron goes into his life, preventing him from ".sounding" again, and, after spouting vol- umes of blood and mucus ' ' fins out " without another struggle. He is then added to the catch. The size of the bowhead is generally measured by his captors, calculating the number of barrels he will try out. The rule of judgment is: when the whale is of a dark brown color it is a two-hundred barrel capture; when black, about one-hundred bar- rels; and when grayish, seventy-five barrels, more or less. The latter are captured among broken floes at the beginning of the season. The size, color, and yield of whales is according to their age, all being of the same species. There is much idle time on board a whaler, when on the whaling grounds or cruising for prey. Each man, except the idlers, which are the cook, steward, carpenter, and cooper, has to stand watch on deck. The idlers do any duty necessary, when the crew is short, or in case of a gale or any other press. If no whales are in sight, and the try works are not in operation, the time is spent in mending and patching clothes, playing cards and checkers, read- ing, or writing letters, in hope of meeting a " home- ward bound " by which to send them. Many of the men, in early life, may have learned some mechanical trade, and, during the hours of \vaiting and watching, employ themselves in mak- ing something to take home when they return, as presents to friends and relatives. These are gener- ally of a fanciful nature, and made from some part 1 7 1 206 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S of the captured game. The men smoke a great solace at sea spin yarns and otherwise kill the time which hangs heavy on their hands. It is a most surprising thing to see a before-the- mast man, with great hairy, tarry hands, doing the finest kind of needle work work that would put to the blush many women who have comfortable homes and opportunity, but who are destitute of such knowledge work, so fine, accurate and taste- ful, often in colors, as to be a wonder. I have seen a sailor, with hands as large as hams, cut from a block of wood, a beautifully-modeled miniature ship, and rig it, leaving no rope, block or tackle out, the rigging being of the smallest cotton sewing thread. Jack may be seen, when it is his watch below, with his " ditty-box " before him, engaged in repairing his clothing, or that of a shipmate, who is too idle or ignorant to do it for himself, receiving pay in tobacco or promises. The " ditty-box" is part of a sailor's kit, being equivalent to a lady's work-basket on shore. This box contains everything that the fancy of the owner prompts him to pick up , if not too large an assortment of needles, pieces of cloth for patches, wax, thread of various sizes, buttons, a thimble, and small things like curios gathered in his rambles over the world. There are always two articles in the ditty-box , which portray two phases of a sailor's life a pack of cards well worn, and saturated with the odors of the forecastle, and stained by frequent use, which WHALING VOYAGE. 207 satisfies his grosser nature, and a small Bible which gratifies whatever of intellectual or religious aspira- tions and sentiment he may have. This precious book may have been given to him by a loving mother, accompanied with a farewell blessing and a maternal kiss, when waywardness led him from home to begin the rough and stormy journey of life. It may have been a costly one with elegant bind- ing, given to a son whose prospects in life were promising, with no thought that it would ever find its way into the reeking forecastle of a ship, or its owner be reduced to the condition of a common sailor the associate of men, many of them, with characters, I am forced to admit from experience, that are vile, but who are! alas! often found in the bunks under the bowsprit, both of whalers and the regular merchantman. Sunday is the day for all this, and some of the men, if they have no work of their own, will assist a shipmate to repair his wardrobe. I have seen a big-fisted fellow, with a quid in his mouth large enough to set one speculating as to how it was ever stowed there behind the wide-extending lips, put an entire new seat in a pair of breeches in a man- ner so perfect as to do credit to a Broadway tailor. It would not very likely be of the same color as the original material, but Jack is never impeded by such trifles, and, consequently, the dress of a gang of merchant seamen lack that enforced uniformity that prevails on board a man-o'-war. But it is 208 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S equally picturesque with the war sailor's blue shirt and flaunting trowsers. I have been one of a gang of men at work on deck with clothing that had been patched so many times as to have lost its original color, looking as though the whole of Joseph's descendants had been mustered to display and transmit the radiance of the original Joseph's coat. Often, on a Sunday, a few men of the crew are seen, snugged away in some sheltered place, the ship requiring but little attention while running along under all plain sail , lashing the sea into foaming anger, intently read- ing the Bible reading from that sacred volume passages they had read over and over again, and marked, perhaps, by a loving mother, wife or sis- ter, that attention might be given, and lessons pointed out of how to live according to the precepts taught there. I cannot vouch that the study of such passages ever made much impression, the reading often being in fulfillment of a promise exacted when the reader was leaving home. But of this I am cer- tain, that such reading did not make worse men of them. Then photographs are brought out, sometimes family pictures, which are exhibited with pride; often the semblance of the loved one at home, " the girl I left behind me," which pictures are subject of confidences between chums. Then all the particulars are gone over, the hopes and long- WHALING VOYAGE. 209 ings; for the heart of the sailor is as prone to gush with love as that of the landsman. These confidences oftener make faster friends of seamen than any common interest they may have in the voyage , or any other thing that may happen on shipboard. Friendships like these often light the fok'sle with genuine human sentiment, making that hole more endurable, especially when the occu- pants are not too deeply imbued with the infection growing out of life before the mast. But who, as a general thing, cares anything about a common sailor ? They are for the greater part of their lives out of the ken of human sym- pathy, in an element riotous with danger and death; subject to the dominion of a captain, often brutal by nature and unfit to have command, whose teachings are those of force and not of persuasive example. There is a devil in the human heart, inherent it is claimed, which is especially fostered at sea, and which is often developed into its worst form by bad treatment. Out off from his kind, aloof as he stands, a sailor cannot understand the subtle usages of shore life, and captains of ten undertake to instill Christian principles through the aid of a marline spike rather than by kindly acts and example. CHAPTER XXII. OFF FOR THE ARCTIC. " IT is an ill wind that blows nobody good," and in this case the wind was in my favor. The loss of two men, Guy and Frenchy, was the dreadful means of giving me promotion to the position of boatsteerer. The time of the year had now come when it was necessary to start for the arctic seas, in order to be in for the bowhead fishing; and so we left the Sand- wich Islands after landing what cargo we had on board. The gloom that had settled down on the ship in consequence of the loss of the two men was not yet wholly dispelled. Captain Ransom was keenly alive to the sensation, somewhat morbidly I thought, and seemed full of doubt as to the result of this latter part of the voyage. He seemed to have much confidence in the mate's judgment, and had frequent conversations over the matter with Mr. Ryder, but always with the same result; he was possessed of the idea that the voyage would end in disaster. In his own modest way, Mr. Ryder commended him for his care, for his ability and knowledge of a seaman's duty, and, so far as he was able to judge, thought the captain was doing well enough. 210 WHALING VOYAGE. 211 All this time I had a sort of secret understand- ing with myself during my intercourse with the captain that the confidence he had placed in me as to my nautical ability was not well bestowed, for, in my own opinion, I was but a greenhorn. However, I had made no serious mistakes yet, though my misgivings were full and plenty. The work of the ship was going on about as well as it had ever done on the voyage, and, notwithstanding Captain Ransom's fears, Mr. Ryder and myself hoped they would continue so. We did not think our captain quite as strong as when we entered on the voyage, though we both hoped he would improve in this before we reached our destination. Formerly, he had been quick to observe and prompt to execute whatever he might be doing, or ordered to be done. Now, whatever he did was all right; but there did not seem to be in it that snap of quick judgment habitual to his mind there seemed an element of doubt in what he did he considered it for a longer time. The Peri was booming along with as much as could be got out of her under all sail, the wind coming about 'midships over the starboard rail. It was one of those long holidays which often succeed the cutting in and trying out of the last whale cap- tured. The men were sort of half-way employed and half " sojering," going about the work as though they would much rather abandon it alto- gether in favor of a chase in the boats after a whale. 212 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S The watch below was getting all the fun possible out of the dearth of whales. Mending clothes, playing games, singing, scrimshawing, yarning, quarreling and kindred occupations of shipboard life were the order of things day and night; and so the time passed as we sailed toward that destina- tion where the arduous labor of catching bowheads awaited us provided there were any to capture. The day had passed and the evening came with its roseate hues, which, changing into a dreamy twilight, lingered long over the ship, fading gradu- ally out into a radiance of colors, and finally passing into that period between the last glimmer of light and an intense darkness, illumined by myriads of glowing celestial fires. I was walking the deck full of my own thoughts, thinking of my own advancement from the time I had become a sailor, of my good fortune in being selected first for boat-steerer and of the responsi- bility I had assumed in accepting the latter posi- tion. The only consolation in the proposition, aside from endeavoring to do my duty, was in the fact that the captain had entire confidence in me, and that whatever had come to me in the way of duty I had performed as far as I knew to the satisfaction of my superior officers. Then, recollections of my boyhood came throng- ing upon me; of all the events of my early life, of my doubts and fears, of my indecisions in choosing a profession, and, last, of dear Miss Searson, with her kindly ways, her benign face and presence, of WHALING VOYAGE. 213 her trembling ringlets and of her old-fashioned make-up, of all her goodness to me, and my possible unworthiness , though I had tried hard to merit all she had done for me. Then, the vision came to me of her neat and wholesome rooms, she busy with her daily domestic duties, and, on top of all, came the scene of leaving her to go to sea she in a fainting fit upon the sofa. I wondered how she was getting on, whether she was still living, and if she yet remembered me with the affection she had shown since the death of my dear mother. I had received not a word from her, of course, for there was no way of communication between the land of my birth and those far-away seas, so full of danger, song, poetry and fable. The only chance of getting a letter from the United States, supposing one had been written, was to meet an outward-bound vessel from some northern port with a mail for the South Pacific, or, for that matter, anywhere on the broad ocean. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and my watch on deck. The men were at work washing up the deck, after having used the holy-stones an exaction of our captain, which had been kept up. Buckets were cast over the ship's side by brawny arms, dip- ping up the bright and sparkling sea waves, with which the decks were swashed. Brooms and mops were briskly moving, plied by the strong hands of the men, making a picturesque scene in their many-colored rags, donned for the occasion their stalwart limbs knotted with muscles 214 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S partially bared to the sun and wind, defying them both. I was so intent on having well done what I had ordered the men to do, that I did not observe Captain Ransom coming from his cabin. He came up to me before I was aware of his presence, accost- ing me pleasantly. " Why, Mr. Quickstep, you seem determined to keep this deck as clean and neat as a lady's ' c bou- doir." " I like to see it sweet and clean, sir; besides, you know this holy-stone business is one of your hobbies." In the matter of cleanliness our captain was some- thing of a martinet, and, looking straight into his eyes, I observed that he was pleased. " I like to see it so," he replied, " though there are other things I would much prefer to see." Continuing, he remarked ' * I want to see the deck an inch thick with blubber drippings, the hold stowed with full casks, and those covered with whalebone chock under the deck beams." An anxious look coming over his face. " That is something like it, sir; but, if our fate is to get a cargo in a hurry, we shall get it. If we are to linger away from our homes for two or three years longer, we must accept that, too." " That is all true," he answered, in reply to my idea of the fitness of things. ' ' But I shall not feel easy until we land in Boston harbor with a full car- go, and I get my release from the owners. This WHALING VOYAGE. 215 command weighs heavy upon me. I cannot help it, nor divine the cause. With presumption, which I was too inexperienced at the time to see, I answered " Captain, that we are not getting as many whales as we should , is no fault of yours. Otherwise , we are getting on much as we did before. If you have made a mistake at all, it was in making me boat-steerer. I feel the weight of my position and I am trying as hard as I know how to make myself proficient." This as though I were mining for a compliment though I protest I was not. 1 ' Don't bother about that. I knew what I was do- ing. I knew that you were but a young sailor; but my confidence in you is as much in your cool tempera- ment as in your nautical knowledge," and he looked as though he thought I was pushing the question too far. ' c That's all right ," he continued , ' ' I am going to my cabin to work out our position. If anything happens requiring my presence, have Mr. Ryder send for me," and he walked, slowly away looking up at the trim of the sails, and out over the vast ocean. This conversation with my superior officer grated a bit on my senses, for the reason that I seemed to be taunting him with his indiscretion in appointing me. This was not my motive. There was, perhaps, an unconscious feeling that prompted me to try and learn what my commander thought of me I suppose I was really fishing for a compliment, and did not know it. 216 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S The ordinary routine work on shipboard was familiar enough to me, and, in that respect, I had no difficulty in filling my new position. I had some natural dread of stormy weather and of un- foreseen things that might happen. However, I made up my mind to accept the present time for what there was in it not to anticipate trouble, but to await whatever might happen in the future, endeavoring to meet in the proper spirit whatever came in the shape of bad luck. The ship was sweeping along over a riotous sea, topping the restless, ever-changing waves, tipped with a delicate tracery of fringed foam. The deck now and again was washed by a shower of needle- like spray from over the bow, as heavy as a summer rain. The vessel was taking care of herself, as it were. The only man being really occupied was the man at the wheel, whose rugged features betrayed the anxiety he felt in frequent glances aloft to get the trim of the sails, gave a twist or two of the wheel from port to starboard and back again, and a hasty look from the compass to the shivering canvas. CHAPTER MEHMAIDS. THE men were gathered around the windlass and on the heel of the bowsprit, sitting, standing, lounging and giving vent to the gross superstitions with which their minds were teeming superstitions that belong now to by -gone days, but which are yet tenants of the forecastle. Even young men, intelligent mariners, fall readily into the belief of the old " shell-backs," after being in the forward part of a ship under the knight- heads for a few months. The mermaid and her loves, as seen by sailor-men in the various seas they have visited, and under curious circumstances, was just now the theme of discussion. There are many of the denizens of the forecastle who will make " affidavy " that they have seen this fabulous creature, and spoken to her nay, made love to her. The malelot of fifty years ago still clings to fancies that have become more firmly rooted in his beliefs than any theory of religion that may by chance have gotten a lodgment^ in his philosophy. These superstitions he imbibed on his first voyage; and as well may one attempt to modify the belief that all these wonders exist in the depths of ocean, as to reason with a hungry lion about the ownership of a meat carcass 218 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S Many men who go down to the sea in ships, in our day, are not mere before-the-mast machines. Many of these are entering the dawn of separate thinking power, with ability to put this and that together, separating the chaff from the grain; but the wonder-believer still exists. It is not only the untutored sailor, riding out a gale which seems to him to be an avenging thing, who hugs these wierd fancies to his bosom for nearly all rude people who dwell upon the sea-shore within sound of the ocean's constant roar, in com- munities remote from education and opportunity, share these beliefs; they, like the mariner, attribute supernatural powers to everything they cannot understand. The idlers on deck, congregated in the angle formed by the bows of the ship for a rallying point, were exchanging yarns. Jack's yarns seem to come into his mind without any order, and when he starts in on one, after listening to that of his fellow- shipmate, it generally has no connection with the subject of the foregoing one, but is just what pops into his head; and, usually, he prefaces it with, ' ' That puts me in mind o' a voyage I made to the coast of Afriky," or to some other part of the world, or some other circumstance. Jack Staples, who had been looking out over the port bow, suddenly turned to the crowd, saying: " I jist seen a Portigese man-o'-war under fall sail," and he seemed to be inviting the criticism of the crew. He had not long to wait, for Tom Kre- V, HALING VOYAGE. 219 kit sneered out, " I've bin to sea, man and boy, this fifty year, an' I ain't never seen sich a thing as a fish what's a wessel," looking as though he chal- lenged contradiction. ' ' Ye ain't, ain't ye ? " replied Staples, contemptu- ously. " 'Tain't no fish, it's a animal what's got a shell it rigs into a boat," and the men waited, for they knew that Staples was not yet done his yarn. Krekit looked his disbelief with all his might, merely grumbling out: "Itmoughtbe." " It moughtent be," said Staples, " 'cause it is. I seen one oncte es big es a fore-an' -after, in the Indian Ocean. It was a-sailin' along like it was a pleasurin, an' it hed its oars an' sails all out. They was a thunderin' big shark a-comin' head onto it, an' the look-out on the Portigese man-o'-war seen the fish a-comin'. What does he do but take in the oars, clap on more sail an' runs away on a three- quarter breeze faster nor the shark could swim," looking triumphantly around. This started Krekit out of all propriety, and he remonstrated : " Did I understand ye to say, Jack Staples, that ye seen that wi' yer own eyes ? " demanded Krekit, looking as though he felt his intelligence insulted. "Yes, I seen it wi' my own eyes," repeated Staples, and there came a belligerent look into his eyes. " Then, I ses as how it's a lie," roared Krekit, " an' the man what tells that yarn is a well, he's 220 JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S mistook the thing what he's seen for somethin' else p'raps a mermaid," explained Krekit, looking into Staples' eyes, and feeling that he had gone too far. " I allow as the man what calls me a liar, '11 have to fight," bullied Staples, determined to have a row; " b'sides, they ain't no mermaids," retorted the speaker, although he had several choice mermaid yarns that he used to get off on every occasion. Both men jumped to their feet, and there was every prospect of a lively fight, when Ben, the general pacificator, stepped between them. " Awast there, my hearties. I ain't a-goin' to have no fightin' ; scatter my rivets if I do. Can't you fellers enjoy yourselves wi' a little perwersion of the truth 'thout fightin' an' quarrelin' like cats an' dogs. Look ye, my lads, I told Cap'n Ransom as how I'd be 'sponsible for the good conduc' o' this air crew, an' scatter my rivets ef I don't doit.'' " Right ye air," cried several voices, among which, those of Staples and Krekit were the loud- est, showing that they were glad to escape the necessity of coming to blows. " My lads," commenced Ben, now that he was in the humor for uncorking his wisdom, "let every man tell his yarn, lie or no lie. I b'leves every yarn what I listens to, 'cause why, 'cause its a heap more easier to b'leve nor it is to hunt for the proof. They mought be shells what kin sail like a vessel, an* I knows they is mermaids, 'cause I've seen 'em." WHALING VOYAGE. 221 "'Course they J s mermaids, 'cause I've seen 'em, too," confirmed Krekit. "I'll tell ye what I knows about it," continued Ben, " an* I don't want no mant'onb'leveit;see?" " Yes, let's have that air mermaid yarn," urged the men, and in an instant Ben was surrounded. " I was oncte shipmate wi' a sailorman what could look on an' see another man doin' work, what he oughter do hisself , 'thout losin' his appetite for grub. He was a lubberly, sqjerin' hulk o' a feller, an' allers a-lookin' for some excuse to shift his work off onto a shipmate. One day, we was a-layin* becalmed off 'en St. Helena, an' a mermaid come up 'longside o' the ship. She was a-balancin' herself on her tail flukes, an' a-combin' of her golden, yaller hair in one hand an' a-holdin' of a lookin'-glass in t' other one, a-fixin' of her frizzes, an* a-lookin' es happy es a sailor's wife wi' the wages of a three- years' cruise in her porte-money, as the Frenchies calls it. " The sojering fok'sle swab what I'm a-tellin' ye about Idisremember his name jist this rninit; how- sumdever, thet don't make not no diff rence was a-skulkin' in the forechains, an' he seen the mer- maid. He was a putty slick lookin' feller for a sojer, an' as soon as thet female fish sot eyes on him, she falls in love an' they begin a-flirtin' wi' each other ontil the sojer I disremember his name slipped down on the starboard chain plates, an' the mermaid she retched up for him wi' both arms; but the chain plates was too high. " 222" JOHNNIE QUICKSTEP'S