p275-020 CHAPTER I. FOOT IN STIRRUP.

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We are off! The courses and topsails are set: the
coral-hung anchor swings from the bow: and together, the
three royals are given to the breeze, that follows us out to
sea like the baying of a hound. Out spreads the canvas—
alow, aloft—boom-stretched, on both sides, with many a
stun' sail; till like a hawk, with pinions poised, we shadow
the sea with our sails, and reelingly cleave the brine.

But whence, and whither wend ye, mariners?

We sail from Ravavai, an isle in the sea, not very far
northward from the tropic of Capricorn, nor very far westward
from Pitcairn's island, where the mutineers of the
Bounty settled. At Ravavai I had stepped ashore some
few months previous; and now was embarked on a cruise
for the whale, whose brain enlightens the world.

And from Ravavai we sail for the Gallipagos, otherwise
called the Enchanted Islands, by reason of the many wild
currents and eddies there met.

Now, round about those isles, which Dampier once trod,
where the Spanish bucaniers once hived their gold moidores,
the Cachalot, or sperm whale, at certain seasons abounds.

But thither, from Ravavai, your craft may not fly, as flies
the sea-gull, straight to her nest. For, owing to the

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prevalence of the trade winds, ships bound to the northeast from
the vicinity of Ravavai are fain to take something of a circuit;
a few thousand miles or so. First, in pursuit of the
variable winds, they make all haste to the south; and there,
at length picking up a stray breeze, they stand for the main:
then, making their easting, up helm, and away down the
coast, toward the Line.

This round-about way did the Arcturion take; and in all
conscience a weary one it was. Never before had the
ocean appeared so monotonous; thank fate, never since.

But bravo! in two weeks' time, an event. Out of the
gray of the morning, and right ahead, as we sailed along, a
dark object rose out of the sea; standing dimly before us,
mists wreathing and curling aloft, and creamy breakers frothing
round its base.—We turned aside, and, at length, when
day dawned, passed Massafuero. With a glass, we spied two
or three hermit goats winding down to the sea, in a ravine;
and presently, a signal: a tattered flag upon a summit beyond.
Well knowing, however, that there was nobody on
the island but two or three noose-fulls of runaway convicts
from Chili, our captain had no mind to comply with their
invitation to land. Though, haply, he may have erred in
not sending a boat off with his card.

A few days more and we “took the trades.” Like favors
snappishly conferred, they came to us, as is often the case,
in a very sharp squall; the shock of which carried away
one of our spars; also our fat old cook off his legs; depositing
him plump in the scuppers to leeward.

In good time making the desired longitude upon the equator,
a few leagues west of the Gallipagos, we spent several
weeks chassezing across the Line, to and fro, in unavailing
search for our prey. For some of their hunters believe,
that whales, like the silver ore in Peru, run in veins through
the ocean. So, day after day, daily; and week after week,
weekly, we traversed the self-same longitudinal intersection
of the self-same Line; till we were almost ready to swear

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that we felt the ship strike every time her keel crossed that
imaginary locality.

At length, dead before the equatorial breeze, we threaded
our way straight along the very Line itself. Westward sailing;
peering right, and peering left, but seeing naught.

It was during this weary time, that I experienced the
first symptons of that bitter impatience of our monotonous
craft, which ultimately led to the adventures herein recounted.

But hold you! Not a word against that rare old ship,
nor its crew. The sailors were good fellows all, the halfscore
of pagans we had shipped at the islands included.
Nevertheless, they were not precisely to my mind. There
was no soul a magnet to mine; none with whom to mingle
sympathies; save in deploring the calms with which we
were now and then overtaken; or in hailing the breeze
when it came. Under other and livelier auspices the tarry
knaves might have developed qualities more attractive. Had
we sprung a leak, been “stove” by a whale, or been blessed
with some despot of a captain against whom to stir up some
spirited revolt, these shipmates of mine might have proved
limber lads, and men of mettle. But as it was, there was
naught to strike fire from their steel.

There were other things, also, tending to make my lot
on ship-board very hard to be borne. True, the skipper
himself was a trump; stood upon no quarter-deck dignity;
and had a tongue for a sailor. Let me do him justice,
furthermore: he took a sort of fancy for me in particular;
was sociable, nay, loquacious, when I happened to stand at
the helm. But what of that? Could he talk sentiment or
philosophy? Not a bit. His library was eight inches by
four: Bowditch, and Hamilton Moore.

And what to me, thus pining for some one who could
page me a quotation from Burton on Blue Devils; what to
me, indeed, were flat repetitions of long-drawn yarns, and
the everlasting stanzas of Black-eyed Susan sung by our
full forecastle choir? Staler than stale ale.

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Ay, ay, Arcturion! I say it in no malice, but thou
wast exceedingly dull. Not only at sailing: hard though
it was, that I could have borne; but in every other respect.
The days went slowly round and round, endless and uneventful
as cycles in space. Time, and time-pieces! How
many centuries did my hammock tell, as pendulum-like it
swung to the ship's dull roll, and ticked the hours and ages.
Sacred forever be the Arcturion's fore-hatch—alas! seamoss
is over it now—and rusty forever the bolts that held
together that old sea hearth-stone, about which we so often
lounged. Nevertheless, ye lost and leaden hours, I will rail
at ye while life lasts.

Well: weeks, chronologically speaking, went by. Bill
Marvel's stories were told over and over again, till the
beginning and end dovetailed into each other, and were
united for aye. Ned Ballad's songs were sung till the
echoes lurked in the very tops, and nested in the bunts of
the sails. My poor patience was clean gone.

But, at last after some time sailing due westward we
quitted the Line in high disgust; having seen there, no sign
of a whale.

But whither now? To the broiling coast of Papua? That
region of sun-strokes, typhoons, and bitter pulls after whales
unattainable. Far worse. We were going, it seemed, to
illustrate the Whistonian theory concerning the damned and
the comets;—hurried from equinoctial heats to arctic frosts.
To be short, with the true fickleness of his tribe, our skipper
had abandoned all thought of the Cachalot. In desperation,
he was bent upon bobbing for the Right whale on the Nor'West
Coast and in the Bay of Kamschatska.

To the uninitiated in the business of whaling, my feelings
at this juncture may perhaps be hard to understand.
But this much let me say: that Right whaling on the Nor'West
Coast, in chill and dismal fogs, the sullen inert monsters
rafting the sea all round like Hartz forest logs on the
Rhine, and submitting to the harpoon like half-stunned

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bullocks to the knife; this horrid and indecent Right whaling,
I say, compared to a spirited hunt for the gentlemanly
Cachalot in southern and more genial seas, is as the butchery
of white bears upon blank Greenland icebergs to zebra
hunting in Caffraria, where the lively quarry bounds before
you through leafy glades.

Now, this most unforeseen determination on the part of
my captain to measure the arctic circle was nothing more
nor less than a tacit contravention of the agreement between
us. That agreement needs not to be detailed. And
having shipped but for a single cruise, I had embarked
aboard his craft as one might put foot in stirrup for a day's
following of the hounds. And here, Heaven help me, he
was going to carry me off to the Pole! And on such a vile
errand too! For there was something degrading in it.
Your true whaleman glories in keeping his harpoon unspotted
by blood of aught but Cachalot. By my halidome, it
touched the knighthood of a tar. Sperm and spermaceti!
It was unendurable.

“Captain,” said I, touching my sombrero to him as I
stood at the wheel one day, “It's very hard to carry me off
this way to purgatory. I shipped to go elsewhere.”

“Yes, and so did I,” was his reply. “But it can't be
helped. Sperm whales are not to be had. We've been
out now three years, and something or other must be got;
for the ship is hungry for oil, and her hold a gulf to look
into. But cheer up my boy! once in the Bay of Kamschatka,
and we'll be all afloat with what we want, though
it be none of the best.”

Worse and worse! The oleaginous prospect extended
into an immensity of Macassar. “Sir,” said I, “I did not
ship for it; put me ashore somewhere, I beseech.” He
stared, but no answer vouchsafed; and for a moment I
thought I had roused the domineering spirit of the sea-captain,
to the prejudice of the more kindly nature of the man.

But not so. Taking three turns on the deck, he placed

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his hand on the wheel, and said, “Right or wrong, my lad,
go with us you must. Putting you ashore is now out of
the question. I make no port till this ship is full to the
combings of her hatchways. However, you may leave her
if you can.” And so saying he entered his cabin, like
Julius Cæsar into his tent.

He may have meant little by it, but that last sentence
rung in my ear like a bravado. It savored of the turnkey's
compliments to the prisoner in Newgate, when he shoots to
the bolt on him.

“Leave the ship if I can!” Leave the ship when neither
sail nor shore was in sight! Ay, my fine captain, stranger
things have been done. For on board that very craft, the
old Arcturion, were four tall fellows, whom two years previous
our skipper himself had picked up in an open boat, far
from the farthest shoal. To be sure, they spun a long yarn
about being the only survivors of an Indiaman burnt down
to the water's edge. But who credited their tale? Like
many others, they were keepers of a secret: had doubtless
contracted a disgust for some ugly craft still afloat and
hearty, and stolen away from her, off soundings. Among
seamen in the Pacific such adventures not seldom occur.
Nor are they accounted great wonders. They are but incidents,
not events, in the career of the brethren of the order
of South Sea rovers. For what matters it, though hundreds
of miles from land, if a good whale-boat be under foot, the
Trades behind, and mild, warm seas before? And herein
lies the difference between the Atlantic and Pacific:—that
once within the Tropics, the bold sailor who has a mind to
quit his ship round Cape Horn, waits not for port. He
regards that ocean as one mighty harbor.

Nevertheless, the enterprise hinted at was no light one;
and I resolved to weigh well the chances. It's worth noticing,
this way we all have of pondering for ourselves the
enterprise, which, for others, we hold a bagatelle.

My first thoughts were of the boat to be obtained, and

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the right or wrong of abstracting it, under the circumstances.
But to split no hairs on this point, let me say, that were I
placed in the same situation again, I would repeat the thing
I did then. The captain well knew that he was going to
detain me unlawfully: against our agreement; and it was
he himself who threw out the very hint, which I merely
adopted, with many thanks to him.

In some such willful mood as this, I went aloft one day,
to stand my allotted two hours at the mast-head. It was
toward the close of a day, serene and beautiful. There I
stood, high upon the mast, and away, away, illimitably rolled
the ocean beneath. Where we then were was perhaps the
most unfrequented and least known portion of these seas.
Westward, however, lay numerous groups of islands, loosely
laid down upon the charts, and invested with all the
charms of dream-land. But soon these regions would be
past; the mild equatorial breeze exchanged for cold, fierce
squalls, and all the horrors of northern voyaging.

I cast my eyes downward to the brown planks of the dull,
plodding ship, silent from stem to stern; then abroad.

In the distance what visions were spread! The entire
western horizon high piled with gold and crimson clouds;
airy arches, domes, and minarets; as if the yellow, Moorish
sun were setting behind some vast Alhambra. Vistas seemed
leading to worlds beyond. To and fro, and all over the
towers of this Nineveh in the sky, flew troops of birds.
Watching them long, one crossed my sight, flew through a
low arch, and was lost to view. My spirit must have sailed
in with it; for directly, as in a trance, came upon me the
cadence of mild billows laving a beach of shells, the waving
of boughs, and the voices of maidens, and the lulled beatings
of my own dissolved heart, all blended together.

Now, all this, to be plain, was but one of the many visions
one has up aloft. But coming upon me at this time, it
wrought upon me so, that thenceforth my desire to quit the
Arcturion became little short of a frenzy.

p275-027 CHAPTER II. A CALM.

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Next day there was a calm, which added not a little to
my impatience of the ship. And, furthermore, by certain
nameless associations revived in me my old impressions upon
first witnessing as a landsman this phenomenon of the sea.
Those impressions may merit a page.

To a landsman a calm is no joke. It not only revolutionizes
his abdomen, but unsettles his mind; tempts him to
recant his belief in the eternal fitness of things; in short,
almost makes an infidel of him.

At first he is taken by surprise, never having dreamt of a
state of existence where existence itself seems suspended.
He shakes himself in his coat, to see whether it be empty
or no. He closes his eyes, to test the reality of the glassy
expanse. He fetches a deep breath, by way of experiment,
and for the sake of witnessing the effect. If a reader of
books, Priestley on Necessity occurs to him; and he believes
in that old Sir Anthony Absolute to the very last chapter.
His faith in Malte Brun, however, begins to fail; for the
geography, which from boyhood he had implicitly confided in,
always assured him, that though expatiating all over the
globe, the sea was at least margined by land. That over
against America, for example, was Asia. But it is a calm,
and he grows madly skeptical.

To his alarmed fancy, parallels and meridians become
emphatically what they are merely designated as being: imaginary
lines drawn round the earth's surface.

The log assures him that he is in such a place; but the

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log is a liar; for no place, nor any thing possessed of a local
angularity, is to be lighted upon in the watery waste.

At length horrible doubts overtake him as to the captain's
competency to navigate his ship. The ignoramus
must have lost his way, and drifted into the outer confines
of creation, the region of the everlasting lull, introductory to
a positive vacuity.

Thoughts of eternity thicken. He begins to feel anxious
concerning his soul.

The stillness of the calm is awful. His voice begins to
grow strange and portentous. He feels it in him like something
swallowed too big for the esophagus. It keeps up a
sort of involuntary interior humming in him, like a live
beetle. His cranium is a dome full of reverberations. The
hollows of his very bones are as whispering galleries. He
is afraid to speak loud, lest he be stunned; like the man in
the bass drum.

But more than all else is the consciousness of his utter
helplessness. Succor or sympathy there is none. Penitence
for embarking avails not. The final satisfaction of despairing
may not be his with a relish. Vain the idea of idling
out the calm. He may sleep if he can, or purposely delude
himself into a crazy fancy, that he is merely at leisure.
All this he may compass; but he may not lounge; for
to lounge is to be idle; to be idle implies an absence of any
thing to do; whereas there is a calm to be endured: enough
to attend to, Heaven knows.

His physical organization, obviously intended for locomotion,
becomes a fixture; for where the calm leaves him, there
he remains. Even his undoubted vested rights, comprised
in his glorious liberty of volition, become as naught. For
of what use? He wills to go: to get away from the calm:
as ashore he would avoid the plague. But he can not; and
how foolish to revolve expedients. It is more hopeless than
a bad marriage in a land where there is no Doctors' Commons.
He has taken the ship to wife, for better or for

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worse, for calm or for gale; and she is not to be shuffled
off. With yards akimbo, she says unto him scornfully,
as the old beldam said to the little dwarf:—“Help yourself.”

And all this, and more than this, is a calm.

p275-030 CHAPTER III. A KING FOR A COMRADE.

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At the time I now write of, we must have been something
more than sixty degrees to the west of the Gallipagos.
And having attained a desirable longitude, we were standing
northward for our arctic destination: around us one
wide sea.

But due west, though distant a thousand miles, stretched
north and south an almost endless Archipelago, here and
there inhabited, but little known; and mostly unfrequented,
even by whalemen, who go almost every where. Beginning
at the southerly termination of this great chain, it comprises
the islands loosely known as Ellice's group; then, the Kingsmill
isles; then, the Radack and Mulgrave clusters. These
islands had been represented to me as mostly of coral formation,
low and fertile, and abounding in a variety of fruits.
The language of the people was said to be very similar to
that of the Navigator's islands, from which, their ancestors
are supposed to have emigrated.

And thus much being said, all has been related that I
then knew of the islands in question. Enough, however,
that they existed at all; and that our path thereto lay over
a pleasant sea, and before a reliable Trade-wind. The distance,
though great, was merely an extension of water; so
much blankness to be sailed over; and in a craft, too, that
properly managed has been known to outlive great ships in
a gale. For this much is true of a whale-boat, the cunningest
thing in its way ever fabricated by man.

Upon one of the Kingsmill islands, then, I determined to

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plant my foot, come what come would. And I was equally
determined that one of the ship's boats should float me
thither. But I had no idea of being without a companion.
It would be a weary watch to keep all by myself, with
naught but the horizon in sight.

Now, among the crew was a fine old seaman, one Jarl,
how old, no one could tell, not even himself. Forecastle
chronology is ever vague and defective. “Man and boy,”
said honest Jarl, “I have lived ever since I can remember.”
And truly, who may call to mind when he was not? To
ourselves, we all seem coeval with creation. Whence it
comes, that it is so hard to die, ere the world itself is departed.

Jarl hailed from the isle of Skye, one of the constellated
Hebrides. Hence, they often called him the Skyeman.
And though he was far from being piratical of soul, he was
yet an old Norseman to behold. His hands were brawny as
the paws of a bear; his voice hoarse as a storm roaring
round the old peak of Mull; and his long yellow hair waved
round his head like a sunset. My life for it, Jarl, thy ancestors
were Vikings, who many a time sailed over the salt
German sea and the Baltic; who wedded their Brynhildas
in Jutland; and are now quaffing mead in the halls of Valhalla,
and beating time with their cans to the hymns of the
Sealds. Ah! how the old Sagas run through me!

Yet Jarl, the descendant of heroes and kings, was a lone,
friendless mariner on the main, only true to his origin in the
sea-life that he led. But so it has been, and forever will be.
What yeoman shall swear that he is not descended from
Alfred? what dunce, that he is not sprung of old Homer?
King Noah, God bless him! fathered us all. Then hold up
your heads, oh ye Helots, blood potential flows through your
veins. All of us have monarchs and sages for kinsmen;
nay, angels and archangels for cousins; since in antediluvian
days, the sons of God did verily wed with our mothers, the
irresistible daughters of Eve. Thus all generations are

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blended: and heaven and earth of one kin: the hierarchies
of seraphs in the uttermost skies; the thrones and principalities
in the zodiac; the shades that roam throughout space;
the nations and families, flocks and folds of the earth;
one and all, brothers in essence—oh, be we then brothers
indeed! All things form but one whole; the universe a
Judea, and God Jehovah its head. Then no more let us
start with affright. In a theocracy, what is to fear? Let us
compose ourselves to death as fagged horsemen sleep in the
saddle. Let us welcome even ghosts when they rise. Away
with our stares and grimaces. The New Zealander's tattooing
is not a prodigy; nor the Chinaman's ways an enigma.
No custom is strange; no creed is absurd; no foe, but who
will in the end prove a friend. In heaven, at last, our good,
old, white-haired father Adam will greet all alike, and sociality
forever prevail. Christian shall join hands between
Gentile and Jew; grim Dante forget his Infernos, and
shake sides with fat Rabelais; and monk Luther, over a
flagon of old nectar, talk over old times with Pope Leo.
Then, shall we sit by the sages, who of yore gave laws to
the Medes and Persians in the sun; by the cavalry captains
in Perseus, who cried, “To horse!” when waked by their Last
Trump sounding to the charge; by the old hunters, who
eternities ago, hunted the moose in Orion; by the minstrels,
who sang in the Milky Way when Jesus our Saviour was
born. Then shall we list to no shallow gossip of Magellans
and Drakes; but give ear to the voyagers who have circumnavigated
the Ecliptic; who rounded the Polar Star as
Cape Horn. Then shall the Stagirite and Kant be forgotten,
and another folio than theirs be turned over for wisdom;
even the folio now spread with horoscopes as yet undeciphered,
the heaven of heavens on high.

Now, in old Jarl's lingo there was never an idiom. Your
aboriginal tar is too much of a cosmopolitan for that. Long
companionship with seamen of all tribes: Manilla-men,
Anglo-Saxons, Cholos, Lascars, and Danes, wear away in

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good time all mother-tongue stammerings. You sink your
clan; down goes your nation; you speak a world's language,
jovially jabbering in the Lingua-Franca of the forecastle.

True to his calling, the Skyeman was very illiterate; witless
of Salamanca, Heidelberg, or Brazen-Nose; in Delhi,
had never turned over the books of the Brahmins. For geography,
in which sailors should be adepts, since they are forever
turning over and over the great globe of globes, poor Jarl
was deplorably lacking. According to his view of the matter,
this terraqueous world had been formed in the manner of
a tart; the land being a mere marginal crust, within which
rolled the watery world proper. Such seemed my good
Viking's theory of cosmography. As for other worlds, he
weened not of them; yet full as much as Chrysostom.

Ah, Jarl! an honest, earnest wight; so true and simple,
that the secret operations of thy soul were more inscrutable
than the subtle workings of Spinoza's.

Thus much be said of the Skyeman; for he was exceedingly
taciturn, and but seldom will speak for himself.

Now, higher sympathies apart, for Jarl I had a wonderful
liking; for he loved me; from the first had cleaved to me.

It is sometimes the case, that an old mariner like him
will conceive a very strong attachment for some young
sailor, his shipmate; an attachment so devoted, as to be
wholly inexplicable, unless originating in that heart-loneliness
which overtakes most seamen as they grow aged;
impelling them to fasten upon some chance object of regard.
But however it was, my Viking, thy unbidden affection was
the noblest homage ever paid me. And frankly, I am more
inclined to think well of myself, as in some way deserving
thy devotion, than from the rounded compliments of more
cultivated minds.

Now, at sea, and in the fellowship of sailors, all men appear
as they are. No school like a ship for studying human
nature. The contact of one man with another is too near
and constant to favor deceit. You wear your character as

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loosely as your flowing trowsers. Vain all endeavors to
assume qualities not yours; or to conceal those you possess.
Incognitos, however desirable, are out of the question.
And thus aboard of all ships in which I have sailed,
I have invariably been known by a sort of drawing-room
title. Not,—let me hurry to say,—that I put hand in tar
bucket with a squeamish air, or ascended the rigging with
a Chesterfieldian mince. No, no, I was never better than
my vocation; and mine have been many. I showed as
brown a chest, and as hard a hand, as the tarriest tar of
them all. And never did shipmate of mine upbraid me
with a genteel disinclination to duty, though it carried me
to truck of main-mast, or jib-boom-end, in the most wolfish
blast that ever howled.

Whence then, this annoying appellation? for annoying it
most assuredly was. It was because of something in me
that could not be hidden; stealing out in an occasional
polysyllable; an otherwise incomprehensible deliberation in
dining; remote, unguarded allusions to Belles-Lettres affairs;
and other trifles superfluous to mention.

But suffice it to say, that it had gone abroad among the
Arcturion's crew, that at some indefinite period of my career,
I had been a “nob.” But Jarl seemed to go further.
He must have taken me for one of the House of Hanover in
disguise; or, haply, for bonneted Charles Edward the
Pretender, who, like the Wandering Jew, may yet be a vagrant.
At any rate, his loyalty was extreme. Unsolicited,
he was my laundress and tailor; a most expert one, too;
and when at meal-times my turn came round to look out at
the mast-head, or stand at the wheel, he catered for me
among the “kids” in the forecastle with unwearied assiduity.
Many's the good lump of “duff” for which I was indebted
to my good Viking's good care of me. And like Sesostris I
was served by a monarch. Yet in some degree the obligation
was mutual. For be it known that, in sea-parlance, we
were chummies.

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Now this chummying among sailors is like the brotherhood
subsisting between a brace of collegians (chums) rooming
together. It is a Fidus-Achates-ship, a league of offense
and defense, a copartnership of chests and toilets, a bond of
love and good feeling, and a mutual championship of the
absent one. True, my nautical reminiscenses remind me of
sundry lazy, ne'er-do-well, unprofitable, and abominable
chummies; chummies, who at meal times were last at the
“kids,” when their unfortunate partners were high upon
the spars; chummies, who affected awkwardness at the
needle, and conscientious scruples about dabbling in the
suds; so that chummy the simple was made to do all the
work of the firm, while chummy the cunning played the
sleeping partner in his hammock. Out upon such
chummies!

But I appeal to thee, honest Jarl, if I was ever chummy
the cunning. Never mind if thou didst fabricate my tarpaulins;
and with Samaritan charity bind up the rents,
and pour needle and thread into the frightful gashes that
agonized my hapless nether integuments, which thou calledst
“ducks;”—Didst thou not expressly declare, that all these
things, and more, thou wouldst do for me, despite my own
quaint thimble, fashioned from the ivory tusk of a whale?
Nay; could I even wrest from thy willful hands my very
shirt, when once thou hadst it steaming in an unsavory
pickle in thy capacious vat, a decapitated cask? Full well
thou knowest, Jarl, that these things are true; and I am
bound to say it, to disclaim any lurking desire to reap advantage
from thy great good nature.

Now my Viking for me, thought I, when I cast about
for a comrade; and my Viking alone.

p275-036 CHAPTER IV. A CHAT IN THE CLOUDS.

[figure description] Page 029.[end figure description]

The Skyeman seemed so earnest and upright a seaman,
that to tell the plain truth, in spite of his love for me, I
had many misgivings as to his readiness to unite in an undertaking
which apparently savored of a moral dereliction.
But all things considered, I deemed my own resolution
quite venial; and as for inducing another to join me, it
seemed a precaution so indispensable, as to outweigh all
other considerations.

Therefore I resolved freely to open my heart to him; for
that special purpose paying him a visit, when, like some old
albatross in the air, he happened to be perched at the foremast-head,
all by himself, on the lookout for whales never seen.

Now this standing upon a bit of stick 100 feet aloft for
hours at a time, swiftly sailing over the sea, is very much
like crossing the Channel in a balloon. Manfred-like, you
talk to the clouds: you have a fellow feeling for the sun.
And when Jarl and I got conversing up there, smoking our
dwarfish “dudeens,” any sea-gull passing by might have
taken us for Messrs. Blanchard and Jeffries, socially puffing
their after-dinner Bagdads, bound to Calais, via Heaven,
from Dover. Honest Jarl, I acquainted with all: my conversation
with the captain, the hint implied in his last
words, my firm resolve to quit the ship in one of her boats,
and the facility with which I thought the thing could be
done. Then I threw out many inducements, in the shape
of pleasant anticipations of bearing right down before the
wind upon the sunny isles under our lee.

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

He listened attentively; but so long remained silent
that I almost fancied there was something in Jarl which
would prove too much for me and my eloquence.

At last he very bluntly declared that the scheme was a
crazy one; he had never known of such a thing but thrice
before; and in every case the runaways had never afterwards
been heard of. He entreated me to renounce my
determination, not be a boy, pause and reflect, stick to the
ship, and go home in her like a man. Verily, my Viking
talked to me like my uncle.

But to all this I turned a deaf ear; affirming that my
mind was made up; and that as he refused to accompany
me, and I fancied no one else for a comrade, I would go
stark alone rather than not at all. Upon this, seeing my
resolution immovable, he bluntly swore that he would
follow me through thick and thin.

Thanks, Jarl! thou wert one of those devoted fellows
who will wrestle hard to convince one loved of error; but
failing, forthwith change their wrestling to a sympathetic
hug.

But now his elderly prudence came into play. Casting
his eye over the boundless expanse below, he inquired how
far off were the islands in question.

“A thousand miles and no less.”

“With a fair trade breeze, then, and a boat sail, that is
a good twelve days' passage, but calms and currents may
make it a month, perhaps more.” So saying, he shook his
old head, and his yellow hair streamed.

But trying my best to chase away these misgivings, he
at last gave them over. He assured me I might count
upon him to his uttermost keel.

My Viking secured, I felt more at ease; and thoughtfully
considered how the enterprise might best be accomplished.

There was no time to be lost. Every hour was carrying
us farther and farther from the parallel most desirable for us
to follow in our route to the westward. So, with all

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

possible dispatch, I matured my plans, and communicated them
to Jarl, who gave several old hints—having ulterior probabilities
in view—which were not neglected.

Strange to relate, it was not till my Viking, with a rueful
face, reminded me of the fact, that I bethought me of a circumstance
somewhat alarming at the first blush. We must
push off without chart or quadrant; though, as will shortly
be seen, a compass was by no means out of the question.
The chart, to be sure, I did not so much lay to heart; but
a quadrant was more than desirable. Still, it was by no
means indispensable. For this reason. When we started, our
latitude would be exactly known; and whether, on our
voyage westward, we drifted north or south therefrom, we
could not, by any possibility, get so far out of our reckoning,
as to fail in striking some one of a long chain of islands,
which, for many degrees, on both sides of the equator,
stretched right across our track.

For much the same reason, it mattered little, whether
on our passage we daily knew our longitude; for no known
land lay between us and the place we desired to reach. So
what could be plainer than this: that if westward we
patiently held on our way, we must eventually achieve our
destination?

As for intervening shoals or reefs, if any there were, they
intimidated us not. In a boat that drew but a few inches
of water, but an indifferent look-out would preclude all danger
on that score. At all events, the thing seemed feasible
enough, notwithstanding old Jarl's superstitious reverence
for nautical instruments, and the philosophical objections
which might have been urged by a pedantic disciple of Mercator.

Very often, as the old maxim goes, the simplest things are
the most startling, and that, too, from their very simplicity.
So cherish no alarms, if thus we addressed the setting sun—
“Be thou, old pilot, our guide!”

p275-039 CHAPTER V. SEATS SECURED AND PORTMANTEAUS PACKED.

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

But thoughts of sextants and quadrants were the least of
our cares.

Right from under the very arches of the eyebrows of
thirty men—captain, mates, and crew—a boat was to be
abstracted; they knowing nothing of the event, until all
knowledge would prove unavailing.

Hark ye:

At sea, the boats of a South Sea-man (generally four in
number, spare ones omitted,) are suspended by tackles, hooked
above, to curved timbers called “davits,” vertically fixed to
the ship's sides.

Now, no fair one with golden locks is more assiduously
waited upon, or more delicately handled by her tire-women,
than the slender whale-boat by her crew. And out of its
element, it seems fragile enough to justify the utmost solicitude.
For truly, like a fine lady, the fine whale-boat is most
delicate when idle, though little coy at a pinch.

Besides the “davits,” the following supports are provided.
Two small cranes are swung under the keel, on which the
latter rests, preventing the settling of the boat's middle,
while hanging suspended by the bow and stern. A broad,
braided, hempen band, usually worked in a tasteful pattern,
is also passed round both gunwales; and secured to the ship's
bulwarks, firmly lashes the craft to its place. Being elevated
above the ship's rail, the boats are in plain sight from all
parts of the deck.

Now, one of these boats was to be made way with. No

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

facile matter, truly. Harder than for any dashing young
Janizary to run off with a sultana from the Grand Turk's
seraglio. Still, the thing could be done, for, by Jove, it had
been.

What say you to slyly loosing every thing by day; and
when night comes, cast off the band and swing in the cranes?
But how lower the tackles, even in the darkest night, without
a creaking more fearful than the death rattle? Easily
avoided. Anoint the ropes, and they will travel deftly
through the subtle windings of the blocks.

But though I had heard of this plan being pursued, there
was a degree of risk in it, after all, which I was far from
fancying. Another plan was hit upon; still bolder; and
hence more safe. What it was, in the right place will be
seen.

In selecting my craft for this good voyage, I would fain
have traversed the deck, and eyed the boats like a cornet
choosing his steed from out a goodly stud. But this was
denied me. And the “bow boat” was, perforce, singled out,
as the most remote from the quarter-deck, that region of
sharp eyes and relentless purposes.

Then, our larder was to be thought of; also, an abundant
supply of water; concerning which last I determined to take
good heed. There were but two to be taken care of; but I
resolved to lay in sufficient store of both meat and drink for
four; at the same time that the supplemental twain thus
provided for were but imaginary. And if it came to the
last dead pinch, of which we had no fear, however, I was
food for no man but Jarl.

Little time was lost in catering for our mess. Biscuit and
salt beef were our sole resource; and, thanks to the generosity
of the Arcturion's owners, our ship's company had a plentiful
supply. Casks of both, with heads knocked out, were at
the service of all. In bags which we made for the purpose,
a sufficiency of the biscuit was readily stored away, and
secreted in a corner of easy access. The salt beef was more

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

difficult to obtain; but, little by little, we managed to smuggle
out of the cask enough to answer our purpose.

As for water, most luckily a day or two previous several
“breakers” of it had been hoisted from below for the present
use of the ship's company.

These “breakers” are casks, long and slender, but very
strong. Of various diameters, they are made on purpose to
stow into spaces intervening between the immense butts in a
ship's hold.

The largest we could find was selected, first carefully
examining it to detect any leak. On some pretense or
other, we then rolled them all over to that side of the vessel
where our boat was suspended, the selected breaker being
placed in their middle.

Our compendious wardrobes were snugly packed into bundles
and laid aside for the present. And at last, by due
caution, we had every thing arranged preliminary to the final
start. Let me say, though, perhaps to the credit of Jarl,
that whenever the most strategy was necessary, he seemed
ill at ease, and for the most part left the matter to me. It
was well that he did; for as it was, by his untimely straightforwardness,
he once or twice came near spoiling every thing.
Indeed, on one occasion he was so unseasonably blunt, that
curiously enough, I had almost suspected him of taking that
odd sort of interest in one's welfare, which leads a philanthropist,
all other methods failing, to frustrate a project
deemed bad, by pretending clumsily to favor it. But no
inuendoes; Jarl was a Viking, frank as his fathers; though
not so much of a bucanier.

p275-042 CHAPTER VI. EIGHT BELLS.

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

The moon must be monstrons coy, or some things fall
out opportunely, or else almanacs are consulted by nocturnal
adventurers; but so it is, that when Cynthia shows a
round and chubby disk, few daring deeds are done. Though
true it may be, that of moonlight nights, jewelers' caskets
and maidens' hearts have been burglariously broken into—
and rifled, for aught Copernicus can tell.

The gentle planet was in her final quarter, and upon her
slender horn I hung my hopes of withdrawing from the ship
undetected.

Now, making a tranquil passage across the ocean, we
kept at this time what are called among whalemen “boats-crew-watches.”
That is, instead of the sailors being divided
at night into two bands, alternately on deck every
four hours, there were four watches, each composed of a
boat's crew, the “headsman” (always one of the mates) excepted.
To the officers, this plan gives uninterrupted repose—
“all-night-in,” as they call it, and of course greatly
lightens the duties of the crew.

The harpooneers head the boats' crews, and are responsible
for the ship during the continuance of their watches.

Now, my Viking being a stalwart seaman, pulled the
midship oar of the boat of which I was bowsman. Hence,
we were in the same watch; to which, also, three others
belonged, including Mark, the harpooneer. One of these
seamen, however, being an invalid, there were only two
left for us to manage.

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

Voyaging in these seas, you may glide along for weeks
without starting tack or sheet, hardly moving the helm a
spoke, so mild and constant are the Trades. At night, the
watch seldom trouble themselves with keeping much of a
look-out; especially, as a strange sail is almost a prodigy in
these lonely waters. In some ships, for weeks in and weeks
out, you are puzzled to tell when your nightly turn on deck
really comes round; so little heed is given to the standing
of watches, where in the license of presumed safety, nearly
every one nods without fear.

But remiss as you may be in the boats-crew-watch of a
heedless whaleman, the man who heads it is bound to maintain
his post on the quarter-deck until regularly relieved.
Yet drowsiness being incidental to all natures, even to Napoleon,
beside his own sentry napping in the snowy bivouac;
so, often, in snowy moonlight, or ebon eclipse, dozed Mark,
our harpooneer. Lethe be his portion this blessed night,
thought I, as during the morning which preceded our
enterprise, I eyed the man who might possibly cross my
plans.

But let me come closer to this part of my story. During
what are called at sea the “dog-watches” (between four
o'clock and eight in the evening), sailors are quite lively
and frolicsome; their spirits even flow far into the first of
the long “night-watches;” but upon its expiration at “eight
bells” (midnight), silence begins to reign; if you hear a
voice it is no cherub's: all exclamations are oaths.

At eight bells, the mariners on deck, now relieved from
their cares, crawl out from their sleepy retreats in old
monkey jackets, or coils of rigging, and hie to their hammocks,
almost without interrupting their dreams: while the
sluggards below lazily drag themselves up the ladder to resume
their slumbers in the open air.

For these reasons then, the moonless sea midnight was
just the time to escape. Hence, we suffered a whole day
to pass unemployed; waiting for the night, when the

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

starboard-quarter-boats'-watch, to which we belonged, would be
summoned on deck at the eventful eight of the bell.

But twenty-four hours soon glide away; and “Starboleens
ahoy! eight bells there below!” at last started me
from a troubled doze.

I sprang from my hammock, and would have lighted my
pipe. But the forecastle lamp had gone out. An old seadog
was talking about sharks in his sleep. Jarl and our
solitary watch-mate were groping their way into their trowsers.
And little was heard but the humming of the still
sails aloft; the dash of the waves against the bow; and
the deep breathing of the dreaming sailors around.

p275-045 CHAPTER VII. A PAUSE.

[figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

Good old Arcturion! Maternal craft, that rocked me so
often in thy heart of oak, I grieve to tell how I deserted
thee on the broad deep. So far from home, with such a
motley crew, so many islanders, whose heathen babble
echoing through thy Christian hull, must have grated
harshly on every carline.

Old ship! where sails thy lone ghost now? For of the
stout Arcturion no word was ever heard, from the dark
hour we pushed from her fated planks. In what time of
tempest, to what seagull's scream, the drowning eddies did
their work, knows no mortal man. Sunk she silently, helplessly,
into the calm depths of that summer sea, assassinated
by the ruthless blade of the swordfish? Such things have
been. Or was hers a better fate? Stricken down while
gallantly battling with the blast; her storm-sails set; helm
manned; and every sailor at his post; as sunk the Hornet,
her men at quarters, in some distant gale.

But surmises are idle. A very old craft, she may have
foundered; or laid her bones upon some treacherous reef;
but as with many a far rover, her fate is a mystery.

Pray Heaven, the spirit of that lost vessel roaming abroad
through the troubled mists of midnight gales—as old mariners
believe of missing ships—may never haunt my future
path upon the waves. Peacefully may she rest at the bottom
of the sea; and sweetly sleep my shipmates in the
lowest watery zone, where prowling sharks come not, nor
billows roll.

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

By quitting the Arcturion when we did, Jarl and I unconsciously
eluded a sailor's grave. We hear of providential
deliverances. Was this one? But life is sweet to all,
death comes as hard. And for myself I am almost tempted
to hang my head, that I escaped the fate of my shipmates;
something like him who blushed to have escaped the fell
carnage at Thermopylæ.

Though I can not repress a shudder when I think of that
old ship's end, it is impossible for me so much as to imagine,
that our deserting her could have been in any way instrumental
in her loss. Nevertheless, I would to Heaven the
Arcturion still floated; that it was given me once more to
tread her familiar decks.

p275-047 CHAPTER VIII. THEY PUSH OFF, VELIS ET REMIS.

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

And now to tell how, tempted by devil or good angel,
and a thousand miles from land, we embarked upon this
western voyage.

It was midnight, mark you, when our watch began; and
my turn at the helm now coming on was of course to be
avoided. On some plausible pretense, I induced our solitary
watchmate to assume it; thus leaving myself untrammeled,
and at the same time satisfactorily disposing of him. For
being a rather fat fellow, an enormous consumer of “duff,”
and with good reason supposed to be the son of a farmer, I
made no doubt, he would pursue his old course and fall to
nodding over the wheel. As for the leader of the watch—
our harpooneer—he fell heir to the nest of old jackets, under
the lee of the mizzen-mast, left nice and warm by his predecessor.

The night was even blacker than we had anticipated;
there was no trace of a moon; and the dark purple haze,
sometimes encountered at night near the Line, half shrouded
the stars from view.

Waiting about twenty minutes after the last man of the
previous watch had gone below, I motioned to Jarl, and we
slipped our shoes from our feet. He then descended into
the forecastle, and I sauntered aft toward the quarter-deck.
All was still. Thrice did I pass my hand full before the
face of the slumbering lubber at the helm, and right between
him and the light of the binnacle.

Mark, the harpooneer, was not so easily sounded. I feared

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

to approach him. He lay quietly, though; but asleep or
awake, no more delay. Risks must be run, when time
presses. And our ears were a pointer's to catch a sound.

To work we went, without hurry, but swiftly and silently.
Our various stores were dragged from their lurking-places,
and placed in the boat, which hung from the ship's
lee side, the side depressed in the water, an indispensable
requisite to an attempt at escape. And though at sundown
the boat was to windward, yet, as we had foreseen, the vessel
having been tacked during the first watch, brought it to
leeward.

Endeavoring to manhandle our clumsy breaker, and lift
it into the boat, we found, that by reason of the intervention
of the shrouds, it could not be done without risking a
jar; besides straining the craft in lowering. An expedient,
however, though at the eleventh hour, was hit upon.
Fastening a long rope to the breaker, which was perfectly
tight, we cautiously dropped it overboard; paying out
enough line, to insure its towing astern of the ship, so as
not to strike against the copper. The other end of the line
we then secured to the boat's stern.

Fortunately, this was the last thing to be done; for the
breaker, acting as a clog to the vessel's way in the water,
so affected her steering as to fling her perceptibly into the
wind. And by causing the helm to work, this must soon
rouse the lubber there stationed, if not already awake.
But our dropping overboard the breaker greatly aided us in
this respect: it diminished the ship's headway; which
owing to the light breeze had not been very great at any
time during the night. Had it been so, all hope of escaping
without first arresting the vessel's progress, would have
been little short of madness. As it was, the sole daring of
the deed that night achieved, consisted in our lowering
away while the ship yet clove the brine, though but moderately.

All was now ready: the cranes swung in, the lashings

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

adrift, and the boat fairly suspended; when, seizing the ends
of the tackle ropes, we silently stepped into it, one at each
end. The dead weight of the breaker astern now dragged
the craft horizontally through the air, so that her tackle
ropes strained hard. She quivered like a dolphin. Nevertheless,
had we not feared her loud splash upon striking the
wave, we might have quitted the ship almost as silently as
the breath the body. But this was out of the question,
and our plans were laid accordingly.

“All ready, Jarl?”

“Ready.”

“A man overboard!” I shouted at the top of my compass;
and like lightning the cords slid through our blistering
hands, and with a tremendous shock the boat bounded
on the sea's back. One mad sheer and plunge, one terrible
strain on the tackles as we sunk in the trough of the waves,
tugged upon by the towing breaker, and our knives severed
the tackle ropes—we hazarded not unhooking the blocks—
our oars were out, and the good boat headed round, with
prow to leeward.

“Man overboard!” was now shouted from stem to stern.
And directly we heard the confused tramping and shouting
of the sailors, as they rushed from their dreams into the
almost inscrutable darkness.

“Man overboard! Man overboard!” My heart smote
me as the human cry of horror came out of the black
vaulted night.

“Down helm!” was soon heard from the chief mate.
“Back the main-yard! Quick to the boats! How's this?
One down already? Well done! Hold on, then, those other
boats!”

Meanwhile several seamen were shouting as they strained
at the braces.

“Cut! cut all! Lower away! lower away!” impatiently
cried the sailors, who already had leaped into the
boats.

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

“Heave the ship to, and hold fast every thing,” cried
the captain, apparently just springing to the deck. “One
boat's enough. Steward! show a light there from the
mizzen-top. Boat ahoy!—Have you got that man?”

No reply. The voice came out of a cloud; the ship
dimly showing like a ghost. We had desisted from rowing,
and hand over hand were now hauling in upon the rope
attached to the breaker, which we soon lifted into the boat,
instantly resuming our oars.

“Pull! pull, men! and save him!” again shouted the
captain.

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jarl instinctively, “pulling as
hard as ever we can, sir.”

And pull we did, till nothing could be heard from the
ship but a confused tumult; and, ever and anon, the hoarse
shout of the captain, too distant to be understood.

We now set our sail to a light air; and right into the
darkness, and dead to leeward, we rowed and sailed till
morning dawned.

p275-051 CHAPTER IX. THE WATERY WORLD IS ALL BEFORE THEM.

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

At sea in an open boat, and a thousand miles from
land!

Shortly after the break of day, in the gray transparent
light, a speck to windward broke the even line of the horizon.
It was the ship wending her way north-eastward.

Had I not known the final indifference of sailors to such
disasters as that which the Arcturion's crew must have
imputed to the night past (did not the skipper suspect the
truth) I would have regarded that little speck with many
compunctions of conscience. Nor, as it was, did I feel in
any very serene humor. For the consciousness of being
deemed dead, is next to the presumable unpleasantness of
being so in reality. One feels like his own ghost unlawfully
tenanting a defunct carcass. Even Jarl's glance
seemed so queer, that I begged him to look another way.

Secure now from all efforts of the captain to recover
those whom he most probably supposed lost; and equally
cut off from all hope of returning to the ship even had
we felt so inclined; the resolution that had thus far nerved
me, began to succumb in a measure to the awful loneliness
of the scene. Ere this, I had regarded the ocean as
a slave, the steed that bore me whither I listed, and whose
vicious propensities, mighty though they were, often proved
harmless, when opposed to the genius of man. But now,
how changed! In our frail boat, I would fain have built
an altar to Neptune.

What a mere toy we were to the billows, that jeeringly

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

shouldered us from crest to crest, as from hand to hand lost
souls may be tossed along by the chain of shades which enfilade
the route to Tartarus.

But drown or swim, here's overboard with care! Cheer
up, Jarl! Ha! ha! how merrily, yet terribly, we sail!
Up, up—slowly up—toiling up the long, calm wave; then
balanced on its summit a while, like a plank on a rail; and
down, we plunge headlong into the seething abyss, till arrested,
we glide upward again. And thus did we go.
Now buried in watery hollows—our sail idly flapping; then
lifted aloft—canvas bellying; and beholding the furthest
horizon.

Had not our familiarity with the business of whaling
divested our craft's wild motions of its first novel horrors,
we had been but a rueful pair. But day-long pulls after
whales, the ship left miles astern; and entire dark nights
passed moored to the monsters, killed too late to be towed
to the ship far to leeward:—all this, and much more, accustoms
one to strange things. Death, to be sure, has a
mouth as black as a wolf's, and to be thrust into his jaws
is a serious thing. But true it most certainly is—and I
speak from no hearsay—that to sailors, as a class, the grisly
king seems not half so hideous as he appears to those who
have only regarded him on shore, and at a deferential distance.
Like many ugly mortals, his features grow less
frightful upon acquaintance; and met over often and sociably,
the old adage holds true, about familiarity breeding
contempt. Thus too with soldiers. Of the quaking recruit,
three pitched battles make a grim grenadier; and he who
shrank from the muzzle of a cannon, is now ready to yield
his mustache for a sponge.

And truly, since death is the last enemy of all, valiant
souls will taunt him while they may. Yet rather, should
the wise regard him as the inflexible friend, who, even
against our own wills, from life's evils triumphantly relieves
us.

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

And there is but little difference in the manner of dying.
To die, is all. And death has been gallantly encountered
by those who never beheld blood that was red, only its light
azure seen through the veins. And to yield the ghost
proudly, and march out of your fortress with all the honors
of war, is not a thing of sinew and bone. Though in
prison, Geoffry Hudson, the dwarf, died more bravely than
Goliah, the giant; and the last end of a butterfly shames
us all. Some women have lived nobler lives, and died
nobler deaths, than men. Threatened with the stake,
mitred Cranmer recanted; but through her fortitude, the
lorn widow of Edessa stayed the tide of Valens' persecutions.
'Tis no great valor to perish sword in hand, and
bravado on lip; cased all in panoply complete. For even
the alligator dies in his mail, and the swordfish never surrenders.
To expire, mild-eyed, in one's bed, transcends the
death of Epaminondas.

p275-054 CHAPTER X. THEY ARRANGE THEIR CANOPIES AND LOUNGES, AND TRY TO MAKE THINGS COMFORTABLE.

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

Our little craft was soon in good order. From the spare
rigging brought along, we made shrouds to the mast, and
converted the boat-hook into a handy boom for the jib.
Going large before the wind, we set this sail wing-and-wing
with the main-sail. The latter, in accordance with the
customary rig of whale-boats, was worked with a sprit and
sheet. It could be furled or set in an instant. The bags
of bread we stowed away in the covered space about the
loggerhead, a useless appurtenance now, and therefore removed.
At night, Jarl used it for a pillow; saying, that
when the boat rolled it gave easy play to his head. The
precious breaker we lashed firmly amidships; thereby much
improving our sailing.

Now, previous to leaving the ship, we had seen to it
well, that our craft was supplied with all those equipments,
with which, by the regulations of the fishery, a whale-boat
is constantly provided: night and day, afloat or suspended.
Hanging along our gunwales inside, were six harpoons, three
lances, and a blubber-spade; all keen as razors, and sheathed
with leather. Besides these, we had three waifs, a couple
of two-gallon water-kegs, several bailers, the boat-hatchet
for cutting the whale-line, two auxiliary knives for the like
purpose, and several minor articles, also employed in hunting
the leviathan. The line and line-tub, however, were on
ship-board.

And here it may be mentioned, that to prevent the strain

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

upon the boat when suspended to the ship's side, the heavy
whale-line, over two hundred fathoms in length, and something
more than an inch in diameter, when not in use is
kept on ship-board, coiled away like an endless snake in its
tub. But this tub is always in readiness to be launched
into the boat. Now, having no use for the line belonging
to our craft, we had purposely left it behind.

But well had we marked that by far the most important
item of a whale-boat's furniture was snugly secured in its
place. This was the water-tight keg, at both ends firmly
headed, containing a small compass, tinder-box and flint,
candles, and a score or two of biscuit. This keg is an invariable
precaution against what so frequently occurs in
pursuing the sperm whale—prolonged absence from the
ship, losing sight of her, or never seeing her more, till years
after you reach home again. In this same keg of ours
seemed coopered up life and death, at least so seemed it to
honest Jarl. No sooner had we got clear from the Arcturion,
than dropping his oar for an instant, he clutched at it
in the dark.

And when day at last came, we knocked out the head of
the keg with the little hammer and chisel, always attached
to it for that purpose, and removed the compass, that glistened
to us like a human eye. Then filling up the vacancy
with biscuit, we again made all tight, driving down the
hoops till they would budge no more.

At first we were puzzled to fix our compass. But at last
the Skyeman out knife, and cutting a round hole in the aftermost
thwart, or seat of the boat, there inserted the little
brass case containing the needle.

Over the stern of the boat, with some old canvas which
my Viking's forethought had provided, we spread a rude sort
of awning, or rather counterpane. This, however, proved
but little or no protection from the glare of the sun; for the
management of the main-sail forbade any considerable elevation
of the shelter. And when the breeze was fresh, we

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

were fain to strike it altogether; for the wind being from
aft, and getting underneath the canvas, almost lifted the
light boat's stern into the air, vexing the counterpane as if
it were a petticoat turning a gusty corner. But when a
mere breath rippled the sea, and the sun was fiery hot, it
was most pleasant to lounge in this shady asylum. It was
like being transferred from the roast to cool in the cupboard.
And Jarl, much the toughest fowl of the two, out of an
abundant kindness for his comrade, during the day voluntarily
remained exposed at the helm, almost two hours to my
one. No lady-like scruples had he, the old Viking, about
marring his complexion, which already was more than
bronzed. Over the ordinary tanning of the sailor, he seemed
masked by a visor of japanning, dotted all over with freckles,
so intensely yellow, and symmetrically circular, that they
seemed scorched there by a burning glass.

In the tragico-comico moods which at times overtook me,
I used to look upon the brown Skyeman with humorous
complacency. If we fall in with cannibals, thought I, then,
ready-roasted Norseman that thou art, shall I survive to
mourn thee; at least, during the period I revolve upon the
spit.

But of such a fate, it needs hardly be said, we had no
apprehension.

p275-057 CHAPTER XI. JARL AFFLICTED WITH THE LOCKJAW.

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

If ever again I launch whale-boat from sheer-plank of
ship at sea, I shall take good heed, that my comrade be a
sprightly fellow, with a rattle-box head. Be he never so
silly, his very silliness, so long as he be lively at it, shall be
its own excuse.

Upon occasion, who likes not a lively loon, one of your
giggling, gamesome oafs, whose mouth is a grin? Are not
such, well-ordered dispensations of Providence? filling up
vacuums, in intervals of social stagnation relieving the
tedium of existing? besides keeping up, here and there, in
very many quarters indeed, sundry people's good opinion of
themselves? What, if at times their speech is insipid as
water after wine? What, if to ungenial and irascible souls,
their very “mug” is an exasperation to behold, their clack
an inducement to suicide? Let us not be hard upon them
for this; but let them live on for the good they may do.

But Jarl, dear, dumb Jarl, thou wert none of these.
Thou didst carry a phiz like an excommunicated deacon's.
And no matter what happened, it was ever the same. Quietly,
in thyself, thou didst revolve upon thine own sober axis,
like a wheel in a machine which forever goes round, whether
you look at it or no. Ay, Jarl! wast thou not forever intent
upon minding that which so many neglect—thine own
especial business? Wast thou not forever at it, too, with
no likelihood of ever winding up thy moody affairs, and
striking a balance sheet?

But at times how wearisome to me these everlasting

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

reveries in my one solitary companion. I longed for something
enlivening; a burst of words; human vivacity of one kind
or other. After in vain essaying to get something of this
sort out of Jarl, I tried it all by myself; playing upon my
body as upon an instrument; singing, halloing, and making
empty gestures, till my Viking stared hard; and I myself
paused to consider whether I had run crazy or no.

But how account for the Skyeman's gravity? Surely, it
was based upon no philosophic taciturnity; he was nothing
of an idealist; an aerial architect; a constructor of flying
buttresses. It was inconceivable, that his reveries were
Manfred-like and exalted, reminiscent of unutterable deeds,
too mysterious even to be indicated by the remotest of hints.
Suppositions all out of the question.

His ruminations were a riddle. I asked him anxiously,
whether, in any part of the world, Savannah, Surat, or
Archangel, he had ever a wife to think of; or children, that
he carried so lengthy a phiz. Nowhere neither. Therefore,
as by his own confession he had nothing to think of but
himself, and there was little but honesty in him (having
which, by the way, he may be thought full to the brim),
what could I fall back upon but my original theory: namely,
that in repose, his intellects stepped out, and left his body
to itself.

p275-059 CHAPTER XII. MORE ABOUT BEING IN AN OPEN BOAT.

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

On the third morning, at break of day, I sat at the steering
oar, an hour or two previous having relieved Jarl, now
fast asleep. Somehow, and suddenly, a sense of peril so intense,
came over me, that it could hardly have been aggravated
by the completest solitude.

On a ship's deck, the mere feeling of elevation above the
water, and the reach of prospect you command, impart a
degree of confidence which disposes you to exult in your fancied
security. But in an open boat, brought down to the
very plane of the sea, this feeling almost wholly deserts you.
Unless the waves, in their gambols, toss you and your chip
upon one of their lordly crests, your sphere of vision is little
larger than it would be at the bottom of a well. At best,
your most extended view in any one direction, at least, is in
a high, slow-rolling sea; when you descend into the dark,
misty spaces, between long and uniform swells. Then, for
the moment, it is like looking up and down in a twilight
glade, interminable; where two dawns, one on each hand,
seem struggling through the semi-transparent tops of the
fluid mountains.

But, lingering not long in those silent vales, from watery
cliff to cliff, a sea-chamois, sprang our solitary craft,—a goat
among the Alps!

How undulated the horizon; like a vast serpent with ten
thousand folds coiled all round the globe; yet so nigh, apparently,
that it seemed as if one's hand might touch it.

What loneliness; when the sun rose, and spurred up the

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

heavens, we hailed him as a wayfarer in Sahara the sight
of a distant horseman. Save ourselves, the sun and the
Chamois seemed all that was left of life in the universe.
We yearned toward its jocund disk, as in strange lands the
traveler joyfully greets a face from home, which there had
passed unheeded. And was not the sun a fellow-voyager?
were we not both wending westward? But how soon he
daily overtook and passed us; hurrying to his journey's end.

When a week had gone by, sailing steadily on, by day
and by night, and nothing in sight but this self-same sea,
what wonder if disquieting thoughts at last entered our hearts?
If unknowingly we should pass the spot where, according to
our reckoning, our islands lay, upon what shoreless sea would
we launch? At times, these forebodings bewildered my
idea of the positions of the groups beyond. All became
vague and confused; so that westward of the Kingsmill
isles and the Radack chain, I fancied there could be naught
but an endless sea.

p275-061 CHAPTER XIII. OF THE CHONDROPTERYGII, AND OTHER UNCOUTH HOR INFESTING THE SOUTH SEAS.

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

At intervals in our lonely voyage, there were sights which
diversified the scene; especially when the constellation Pisces
was in the ascendant.

It's famous botanizing, they say, in Arkansas' boundless
prairies; I commend the student of Ichthyology to an open
boat, and the ocean moors of the Pacific. As your craft
glides along, what strange monsters float by. Elsewhere,
was never seen their like. And nowhere are they found in
the books of the naturalists.

Though America be discovered, the Cathays of the deep
are unknown. And whoso crosses the Pacific might have
read lessons to Buffon. The sea-serpent is not a fable; and
in the sea, that snake is but a garden worm. There are
more wonders than the wonders rejected, and more sights
unrevealed than you or I ever ever dreamt of. Moles and
bats alone should be skeptics; and the only true infidelity is
for a live man to vote himself dead. Be Sir Thomas Brown
our ensample; who, while exploding “Vulgar Errors,” heartily
hugged all the mysteries in the Pentateuch.

But look! fathoms down in the sea; where ever saw you
a phantom like that? An enormous crescent with antlers
like a reindeer, and a Delta of mouths. Slowly it sinks,
and is seen no more.

Doctor Faust saw the devil; but you have seen the “Devil
Fish.”

Look again! Here comes another. Jarl calls it a Bone

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

Shark. Full as large as a whale, it is spotted like a leopard;
and tusk-like teeth overlap its jaws like those of the
walrus. To seamen, nothing strikes more terror than the
near vicinity of a creature like this. Great ships steer out
of its path. And well they may; since the good craft Essex,
and others, have been sunk by sea-monsters, as the alligator
thrusts his horny snout through a Carribean canoe.

Ever present to us, was the apprehension of some sudden
disaster from the extraordinary zoological specimens we almost
hourly passed.

For the sharks, we saw them, not by units, nor by tens,
nor by hundreds; but by thousands and by myriads. Trust
me, there are more sharks in the sea than mortals on land.

And of these prolific fish there are full as many species as
of dogs. But by the German naturalists Müller and Henle,
who, in christening the sharks, have bestowed upon them the
most heathenish names, they are classed under one family;
which family, according to Müller, king-at-arms, is an undoubted
branch of the ancient and famous tribe of the Chondropterygii.

To begin. There is the ordinary Brown Shark, or seaattorney,
so called by sailors; a grasping, rapacious varlet,
that in spite of the hard knocks received from it, often snapped
viciously at our steering oar. At times, these gentry
swim in herds; especially about the remains of a slaughtered
whale. They are the vultures of the deep.

Then we often encountered the dandy Blue Shark, a long,
taper and mighty genteel looking fellow, with a slender waist,
like a Bond-street beau, and the whitest tiers of teeth imaginable.
This dainty spark invariably lounged by with a
careless fin and an indolent tail. But he looked infernally
heartless.

How his cold-blooded, gentlemanly air, contrasted with
the rude, savage swagger of the Tiger Shark; a round,
portly gourmand; with distended mouth and collapsed conscience,
swimming about seeking whom he might devour.

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

These gluttons are the scavengers of navies, following ships
in the South Seas, picking up odds and ends of garbage, and
sometimes a tit-bit, a stray sailor. No wonder, then, that
sailors denounce them. In substance, Jarl once assured me,
that under any temporary misfortune, it was one of his sweetest
consolations to remember, that in his day, he had murdered,
not killed, shoals of Tiger Sharks.

Yet this is all wrong. As well hate a seraph, as a shark.
Both were made by the same hand. And that sharks are
lovable, witness their domestic endearments. No Fury so
ferocious, as not to have some amiable side. In the wild
wilderness, a leopard-mother caresses her cub, as Hagar did
Ishmael; or a queen of France the dauphin. We know
not what we do when we hate. And I have the word of
my gentlemanly friend Stanhope, for it; that he who declared
he loved a good hater was but a respectable sort of Hottentot,
at best. No very genteel epithet this, though coming
from the genteelest of men. But when the digger of dictionaries
said that saying of his, he was assuredly not much
of a Christian. However, it is hard for one given up to
constitutional hypos like him, to be filled with the milk and
meekness of the gospels. Yet, with deference, I deny that
my old uncle Johnson really believed in the sentiment ascribed
to him. Love a hater, indeed! Who smacks his
lips over gall? Now hate is a thankless thing. So, let us
only hate hatred; and once give love play, we will fall in
love with a unicorn. Ah! the easiest way is the best; and
to hate, a man must work hard. Love is a delight; but hate
a torment. And haters are thumbscrews, Scotch boots, and
Spanish inquisitions to themselves. In five words—would
they were a Siamese diphthong—he who hates is a fool.

For several days our Chamois was followed by two of
these aforesaid Tiger Sharks. A brace of confidential inseparables,
jogging along in our wake, side by side, like a couple
of highwaymen, biding their time till you come to the crossroads.
But giving it up at last, for a bootless errand, they

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

dropped farther and farther astern, until completely out of
sight. Much to the Skyeman's chagrin; who long stood in
the stern, lance poised for a dart.

But of all sharks, save me from the ghastly White Shark.
For though we should hate naught, yet some dislikes are
spontaneous; and disliking is not hating. And never yet
could I bring myself to be loving, or even sociable, with a
White Shark. He is not the sort of creature to enlist young
affections.

This ghost of a fish is not often encountered, and shows
plainer by night than by day. Timon-like, he always swims
by himself; gliding along just under the surface, revealing
a long, vague shape, of a milky hue; with glimpses now and
then of his bottomless white pit of teeth. No need of a
dentist hath he. Seen at night, stealing along like a spirit
in the water, with horrific serenity of aspect, the White Shark
sent many a thrill to us twain in the Chamois.

By day, and in the profoundest calms, oft were we startled
by the ponderous sigh of the grampus, as lazily rising to the
surface, he fetched a long breath after napping below.

And time and again we watched the darting albicore, the
fish with the chain-plate armor and golden scales; the Nimrod
of the seas, to whom so many flying fish fall a prey.
Flying from their pursuers, many of them flew into our boat.
But invariably they died from the shock. No nursing could
restore them. One of their wings I removed, spreading it
out to dry under a weight. In two days' time the thin membrane,
all over tracings like those of a leaf, was transparent
as isinglass, and tinted with brilliant hues, like those of a
changing silk.

Almost every day, we spied Black Fish; coal-black and
glossy. They seemed to swim by revolving round and round
in the water, like a wheel; their dorsal fins, every now and
then shooting into view, like spokes.

Of a somewhat similar species, but smaller, and clipperbuilt
about the nose, were the Algerines; so called, probably,

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

from their corsair propensities; waylaying peaceful fish on
the high seas, and plundering them of body and soul at a
gulp. Atrocious Turks! a crusade should be preached
against them.

Besides all these, we encountered Killers and Thrashers,
by far the most spirited and “spunky” of the finny tribes.
Though little larger than a porpoise, a band of them think
nothing of assailing leviathan himself. They bait the monster,
as dogs a bull. The Killers seizing the Right whale
by his immense, sulky lower lip, and the Thrashers fastening
on to his back, and beating him with their sinewy tails.
Often they come off conquerors, worrying the enemy to death.
Though, sooth to say, if leviathan gets but one sweep at
them with his terrible tail, they go flying into the air, as if
tossed from Taurus' horn.

This sight we beheld. Had old Wouvermans, who once
painted a bull bait, been along with us, a rare chance, that,
for his pencil. And Gudin or Isabey might have thrown
the blue rolling sea into the picture. Lastly, one of Claude's
setting summer suns would have glorified the whole. Oh,
believe me, God's creatures fighting, fin for fin, a thousand
miles from land, and with the round horizon for an arena,
is no ignoble subject for a masterpiece.

Such are a few of the sights of the great South Sea.
But there is no telling all. The Pacific is populous as
China.

p275-066 CHAPTER XIV. JARL'S MISGIVINGS.

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

About this time an event took place. My good Viking
opened his mouth, and spoke. The prodigy occurred, as,
jacknife in hand, he was bending over the midship oar;
on the loom, or handle, of which he kept our almanac;
making a notch for every set sun. For some forty-eight
hours past, the wind had been light and variable. It
was more than suspected that a current was sweeping us
northward.

Now, marking these things, Jarl threw out the thought,
that the more wind, and the less current, the better; and if
a long calm came on, of which there was some prospect, we
had better take to our oars.

Take to our oars! as if we were crossing a ferry, and no
ocean leagues to traverse. The idea indirectly suggested all
possible horrors. To be rid of them forthwith, I proceeded
to dole out our morning meal. For to make away with such
things, there is nothing better than bolting something down
on top of them; albeit, oft repeated, the plan is very apt to
beget dyspepsia; and the dyspepsia the blues.

But what of our store of provisions? So far as enough
to eat was concerned, we felt not the slightest apprehension;
our supplies proving more abundant than we had anticipated.
But, curious to tell, we felt but little inclination for food.
It was water, bright water, cool, sparkling water, alone, that
we craved. And of this, also, our store at first seemed
ample. But as our voyage lengthened, and breezes blew
faint, and calms fell fast, the idea of being deprived of the

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

precious fluid grew into something little short of a monomania;
especially with Jarl.

Every hour or two with the hammer and chisel belonging
to the tinder box keg, he tinkered away at the invaluable
breaker; driving down the hoops, till in his over solicitude,
I thought he would burst them outright.

Now the breaker lay on its bilge, in the middle of the
boat, where more or less sea-water always collected. And
ever and anon, dipping his finger therein, my Viking was
troubled with the thought, that this sea-water tasted less
brackish than that alongside. Of course the breaker must
be leaking. So, he would turn it over, till its wet side came
uppermost; when it would quickly become dry as a bone.
But now, with his knife, he would gently probe the joints
of the staves; shake his head; look up; look down; taste
of the water in the bottom of the boat; then that of the
sea; then lift one end of the breaker; going through with
every test of leakage he could dream of. Nor was he ever
fully satisfied, that the breaker was in all respects sound.
But in reality it was tight as the drum-heads that beat at
Cerro-Gordo. Oh! Jarl, Jarl: to me in the boat's quiet
stern, steering and philosophizing at one time and the same,
thou and thy breaker were a study.

Besides the breaker, we had, full of water, the two boatkegs,
previously alluded to. These were first used. We
drank from them by their leaden spouts; so many swallows
three times in the day; having no other means of measuring
an allowance. But when we came to the breaker,
which had only a bung-hole, though a very large one, doglike,
it was so many laps apiece; jealously counted by the
observer. This plan, however, was only good for a single
day; the water then getting beyond the reach of the tongue.
We therefore daily poured from the breaker into one of the
kegs; and drank from its spout. But to obviate the absorption
inseparable from decanting, we at last hit upon
something better,—my comrade's shoe, which, deprived of

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

its quarters, narrowed at the heel, and diligently rinsed out
in the sea, was converted into a handy but rather limber
ladle. This we kept suspended in the bung-hole of the
breaker, that it might never twice absorb the water.

Now pewter imparts flavor to ale; a Meerschaum bowl,
the same to the tobacco of Smyrna; and goggle green
glasses are deemed indispensable to the bibbing of Hock.
What then shall be said of a leathern goblet for water?
Try it, ye mariners who list.

One morning, taking his wonted draught, Jarl fished up
in his ladle a deceased insect; something like a Daddy-long-legs,
only more corpulent. Its fate? A sea-toss?
Believe it not; with all those precious drops clinging to its
lengthy legs. It was held over the ladle till the last globule
dribbled; and even then, being moist, honest Jarl was but
loth to drop it overboard.

For our larder, we could not endure the salt beef; it
was raw as a live Abyssinian steak, and salt as Cracow.
Besides, the Feegee simile would not have held good with
respect to it. It was far from being “tender as a dead
man.” The biscuit only could we eat; not to be wondered
at; for even on shipboard, seamen in the tropics are but
sparing feeders.

And here let not a suggestion be omitted, most valuable
to any future castaway or sailaway as the case may be.
Eat not your biscuit dry; but dip it in the sea: which
makes it more bulky and palatable. During meal times it
was soak and sip with Jarl and me: one on each side of
the Chamois dipping our biscuit in the brine. This plan
obviated finger-glasses at the conclusion of our repast.
Upon the whole, dwelling upon the water is not so bad
after all. The Chinese are no fools. In the operation of
making your toilet, how handy to float in your ewer!

p275-069 CHAPTER XV. A STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE.

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

Like most silent earnest sort of people, my good Viking
was a pattern of industry. When in the boats after whales,
I have known him carry along a roll of sinnate to stitch
into a hat. And the boats lying motionless for half an
hour or so, waiting the rising of the chase, his fingers would
be plying at their task, like an old lady knitting. Like an
experienced old-wife too, his digits had become so expert and
conscientious, that his eyes left them alone; deeming optic
supervision unnecessary. And on this trip of ours, when
not otherwise engaged, he was quite as busy with his fingers
as ever:—unraveling old Cape Horn hose, for yarn wherewith
to darn our woolen frocks; with great patches from
the skirts of a condemned reefing-jacket, panneling the
seats of our “ducks;” in short, veneering our broken garments
with all manner of choice old broadcloths.

With the true forethought of an old tar, he had brought
along with him nearly the whole contents of his chest.
His precious “Ditty Bag,” containing his sewing utensils,
had been carefully packed away in the bottom of one of
his bundles; of which he had as many as an old maid on
her travels. In truth, an old salt is very much of an old
maid, though, strictly speaking, far from deserving that
misdeemed appellative. Better be an old maid, a woman
with herself for a husband, than the wife of a fool; and
Solomon more than hints that all men are fools; and every
wise man knows himself to be one.

When playing the sempstress, Jarl's favorite perch was

[figure description] Page 063.[end figure description]

the triangular little platform in the bow; which being the
driest and most elevated part of the boat, was best adapted
to his purpose. Here for hours and hours together the
honest old tailor would sit darning and sewing away, heedless
of the wide ocean around; while forever, his slouched
Guayaquil hat kept bobbing up and down against the horizon
before us.

It was a most solemn avocation with him. Silently he
nodded like the still statue in the opera of Don Juan. Indeed
he never spoke, unless to give pithy utterance to the
wisdom of keeping one's wardrobe in repair. But herein
my Viking at times waxed oracular. And many's the hour
we glided along, myself deeply pondering in the stern, hand
upon helm; while crosslegged at the other end of the boat
Jarl laid down patch upon patch, and at long intervals precept
upon precept; here several saws, and there innumerable
stitches.

p275-071 CHAPTER XVI. THEY ARE BECALMED.

[figure description] Page 064.[end figure description]

On the eighth day there was a calm.

It came on by night: so that waking at daybreak, and
folding my arms over the gunwale, I looked out upon a
scene very hard to describe. The sun was still beneath
the horizon; perhaps not yet out of sight from the plains
of Paraguay. But the dawn was too strong for the stars;
which, one by one, had gone out, like waning lamps after
a ball.

Now, as the face of a mirror is a blank, only borrowing
character from what it reflects; so in a calm in the Tropics,
a colorless sky overhead, the ocean, upon its surface, hardly
presents a sign of existence. The deep blue is gone; and
the glassy element lies tranced; almost viewless as the air.

But that morning, the two gray firmaments of sky and
water seemed collapsed into a vague ellipsis. And alike,
the Chamois seemed drifting in the atmosphere as in the
sea. Every thing was fused into the calm: sky, air, water,
and all. Not a fish was to be seen. The silence was that
of a vacuum. No vitality lurked in the air. And this
inert blending and brooding of all things seemed gray chaos
in conception.

This calm lasted four days and four nights; during which,
but a few cat's-paws of wind varied the scene. They were
faint as the breath of one dying.

At times the heat was intense. The heavens, at midday,
glowing like an ignited coal mine. Our skin curled
up like lint; our vision became dim; the brain dizzy.

To our consternation, the water in the breaker became

[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]

lukewarm, brackish, and slightly putrescent; notwithstanding
we kept our spare clothing piled upon the breaker, to
shield it from the sun. At last, Jarl enlarged the vent,
carefully keeping it exposed. To this precaution, doubtless,
we owed more than we then thought. It was now
deemed wise to reduce our allowance of water to the smallest
modicum consistent with the present preservation of life;
strangling all desire for more.

Nor was this all. The upper planking of the boat began
to warp; here and there, cracking and splintering.
But though we kept it moistened with brine, one of the
plank-ends started from its place; and the sharp, sudden
sound, breaking the scorching silence, caused us both to
spring to our feet. Instantly the sea burst in; but we
made shift to secure the rebellious plank with a cord, not
having a nail; we then bailed out the boat, nearly half full
of water.

On the second day of the calm, we unshipped the mast,
to prevent its being pitched out by the occasional rolling of
the vast smooth swells now overtaking us. Leagues and
leagues away, after its fierce raging, some tempest must
have been sending to us its last dying waves. For as a
pebble dropped into a pond ruffles it to its marge; so, on
all sides, a sea-gale operates as if an asteroid had fallen
into the brine; making ringed mountain billows, interminably
expanding, instead of ripples.

The great September waves breaking at the base of the
Neversink Highlands, far in advance of the swiftest pilotboat,
carry tidings. And full often, they know the last
secret of many a stout ship, never heard of from the day
she left port. Every wave in my eyes seems a soul.

As there was no steering to be done, Jarl and I sheltered
ourselves as well as we could under the awning. And for
the first two days, one at a time, and every three or four
hours, we dropped overboard for a bath, clinging to the gunwale;
a sharp look-out being kept for prowling sharks. A

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

foot or two below the surface, the water felt cool and
refreshing.

On the third day a change came over us. We relinquished
bathing, the exertion taxing us too much. Sullenly
we laid ourselves down; turned our backs to each
other; and were impatient of the slightest casual touch of
our persons. What sort of expression my own countenance
wore, I know not; but I hated to look at Jarl's.
When I did it was a glare, not a glance. I became more
taciturn than he. I can not tell what it was that came
over me, but I wished I was alone. I felt that so long as
the calm lasted, we were without help; that neither could
assist the other; and above all, that for one, the water
would hold out longer than for two. I felt no remorse, not
the slightest, for these thoughts. It was instinct. Like a
desperado giving up the ghost, I desired to gasp by myself.

From being cast away with a brother, good God deliver me!

The four days passed. And on the morning of the fifth,
thanks be to Heaven, there came a breeze. Dancingly,
mincingly it came, just rippling the sea, until it struck our
sails, previously set at the very first token of its advance.
At length it slightly freshened; and our poor Chamois
seemed raised from the dead.

Beyond expression delightful! Once more we heard the
low humming of the sea under our bow, as our boat, like a
bird, went singing on its way.

How changed the scene! Overhead, a sweet blue haze,
distilling sunlight in drops. And flung abroad over the
visible creation was the sun-spangled, azure, rustling robe of
the ocean, ermined with wave crests; all else, infinitely
blue. Such a cadence of musical sounds! Waves chasing
each other, and sporting and frothing in frolicsome foam:
painted fish rippling past; and anon the noise of wings as
sea-fowls flew by.

Oh, Ocean, when thou choosest to smile, more beautiful
thou art than flowery mead or plain!

p275-074 CHAPTER XVII. IN HIGH SPIRITS, THEY PUSH ON FOR THE TERRA INCOGNITA.

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

There were now fourteen notches on the loom of the
Skyeman's oar:—So many days since we had pushed from
the fore-chains of the Arcturion. But as yet, no floating
bough, no tern, noddy, nor reef-bird, to denote our proximity
to land. In that long calm, whither might not the currents
have swept us?

Where we were precisely, we knew not; but according
to our reckoning, the loose estimation of the knots run every
hour, we must have sailed due west but little more than
one hundred and fifty leagues; for the most part having
encountered but light winds, and frequent intermitting calms,
besides that prolonged one described. But spite of past calms
and currents, land there must be to the westward. Sun,
compass, stout hearts, and steady breezes, pointed our prow
thereto. So courage! my Viking, and never say drown!

At this time, our hearts were much lightened by discovering
that our water was improving in taste. It seemed to
have been undergoing anew that sort of fermentation, or
working, occasionally incident to ship water shortly after
being taken on board. Sometimes, for a period, it is more
or less offensive to taste and smell; again, however, becoming
comparatively limpid.

But as our water improved, we grew more and more
miserly of so priceless a treasure.

And here it may be well to make mention of another
little circumstance, however unsentimental. Thorough-paced
tar that he was, my Viking was an inordinate consumer of

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

the Indian weed. From the Arcturion, he had brought
along with him a small half-keg, at bottom impacted with
a solitary layer of sable Negrohead, fossil-marked, like the
primary stratum of the geologists. It was the last tier of
his abundant supply for the long whaling voyage upon which
he had embarked upwards of three years previous. Now
during the calm, and for some days after, poor Jarl's accustomed
quid was no longer agreeable company. To pun:
he eschewed his chew. I asked him wherefore. He replied
that it puckered up his mouth, above all provoked
thirst and had somehow grown every way distasteful. I
was sorry; for the absence of his before ever present wad
impaired what little fullness there was left in his cheek;
though, sooth to say, I no longer called upon him as of yore
to shift over the enormous morsel to starboard or larboard,
and so trim our craft.

The calm gone by, once again my sea-tailor plied needle
and thread; or turning laundress, hung our raiment to dry
on oars peaked obliquely in the thole-pins. All of which
tattered pennons, the wind being astern, helped us gayly
on our way; as jolly poor devils, with rags flying in the
breeze, sail blithely through life; and are merry although
they are poor!

p275-076 CHAPTER XVIII. MY LORD SHARK AND HIS PAGES.

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

There is a fish in the sea that evermore, like a surly
lord, only goes abroad attended by his suite. It is the
Shovel-nosed Shark. A clumsy lethargic monster, unshapely
as his name, and the last species of his kind, one
would think, to be so bravely waited upon, as he is. His
suite is composed of those dainty little creatures called Pilot
fish by sailors. But by night his retinue is frequently increased
by the presence of several small luminous fish, running
in advance, and flourishing their flambeaux like linkboys
lighting the monster's way. Pity there were no rayfish
in rear, page-like, to carry his caudal train.

Now the relation subsisting between the Pilot fish above
mentioned and their huge ungainly lord, seems one of the
most inscrutable things in nature. At any rate, it poses
poor me to comprehend. That a monster so ferocious,
should suffer five or six little sparks, hardly fourteen inches
long, to gambol about his grim hull with the utmost impunity,
is of itself something strange. But when it is considered,
that by a reciprocal understanding, the Pilot fish
seem to act as scouts to the shark, warning him of danger,
and apprising him of the vicinity of prey; and moreover, in
case of his being killed, evincing their anguish by certain
agitations, otherwise inexplicable; the whole thing becomes
a mystery unfathomable. Truly marvels abound. It needs
no dead man to be raised, to convince us of some things.
Even my Viking marveled full as much at those Pilot fish
as he would have marveled at the Pentecost.

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

But perhaps a little incident, occurring about this period,
will best illustrate the matter in hand.

We were gliding along, hardly three knots an hour, when
my comrade, who had been dozing over the gunwale, suddenly
started to his feet, and pointed out an immense Shovel-nosed
Shark, less than a boat's length distant, and about
half a fathom beneath the surface. A lance was at once
snatched from its place; and true to his calling, Jarl was
about to dart it at the fish, when, interested by the sight
of its radiant little scouts, I begged him to desist.

One of them was right under the shark, nibbling at his
ventral fin; another above, hovering about his dorsal appurtenance;
one on each flank; and a frisking fifth pranking
about his nose, seemingly having something to say of a
confidential nature. They were of a bright, steel-blue color,
alternated with jet black stripes; with glistening bellies of
a silver-white. Clinging to the back of the shark, were four
or five Remoras, or sucking-fish; snaky parasites, impossible
to remove from whatever they adhere to, without destroying
their lives. The Remora has little power in swimming;
hence its sole locomotion is on the backs of larger fish.
Leech-like, it sticketh closer than a false brother in prosperity;
closer than a beggar to the benevolent; closer than
Webster to the Constitution. But it feeds upon what it
clings to; its feelers having a direct communication with the
esophagus.

The shark swam sluggishly; creating no sign of a ripple;
but ever and anon shaking his Medusa locks, writhing and
curling with horrible life. Now and then, the nimble Pilot
fish darted from his side—this way and that—mostly toward
our boat; but previous to taking a fresh start ever returning
to their liege lord to report progress.

A thought struck me. Baiting a rope's end with a morsel
of our almost useless salt beef, I suffered it to trail in the
sea. Instantly the foremost scout swam toward it; hesitated;
paused; but at last advancing, briskly snuffed at the

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

line, and taking one finical little nibble, retreated toward the
shark. Another moment, and the great Tamerlane himself
turned heavily about; pointing his black, cannon-like nose
directly toward our broadside. Meanwhile, the little Pilot
fish darted hither and thither; keeping up a mighty fidgeting,
like men of small minds in a state of nervous agitation.

Presently, Tamerlane swam nearer and nearer, all the
while lazily eyeing the Chamois, as a wild boar a kid. Suddenly
making a rush for it, in the foam he made away with
the bait. But the next instant, the uplifted lance sped at
his skull; and thrashing his requiem with his sinewy tail,
he sunk slowly, through his own blood, out of sight. Down
with him swam the terrified Pilot fish; but soon after, three
of them were observed close to the boat, gliding along at a
uniform pace; one an each side, and one in advance; even
as they had attended their lord. Doubtless, one was under
our keel.

“A good omen,” said Jarl; “no harm will befall us so
long as they stay.”

But however that might be, follow us they did, for many
days after: until an event occurred, which necessitated their
withdrawal.

p275-079 CHAPTER XIX. WHO GOES THERE?

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

Jarl's oar showed sixteen notches on the loom, when
one evening, as the expanded sun touched the horizon's rim,
a ship's uppermost spars were observed, traced like a spider's
web against its crimson disk. It looked like a far-off craft
on fire.

In bright weather at sea, a sail, invisible in the full flood
of noon, becomes perceptible toward sunset. It is the reverse
in the morning. In sight at gray dawn, the distant
vessel, though in reality approaching, recedes from view, as
the sun rises higher and higher. This holds true, till its
vicinity makes it readily fall within the ordinary scope of
vision. And thus, too, here and there, with other distant
things: the more light you throw on them, the more you
obscure. Some revelations show best in a twilight.

The sight of the stranger not a little surprised us. But
brightening up, as if the encounter were welcome, Jarl
looked happy and expectant. He quickly changed his demeanor,
however, upon perceiving that I was bent upon
shunning a meeting.

Instantly our sails were struck; and calling upon Jarl,
who was somewhat backward to obey, I shipped the oars;
and, both rowing, we stood away obliquely from our former
course.

I divined that the vessel was a whaler; and hence, that
by help of the glass, with which her look-outs must be momentarily
sweeping the horizon, they might possibly have
descried us; especially, as we were due east from the ship;

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

a direction, which at sunset is the one most favorable for
perceiving a far-off object at sea. Furthermore, our canvas
was snow-white and conspicuous. To be sure, we could not
be certain what kind of a vessel it was; but whatever it
might be, I, for one, had no mind to risk an encounter; for
it was quite plain, that if the stranger came within hailing
distance, there would be no resource but to link our fortunes
with hers; whereas I desired to pursue none but the Chamois'.
As for the Skyeman, he kept looking wistfully over
his shoulder; doubtless, praying Heaven, that we might not
escape what I sought to avoid.

Now, upon a closer scrutiny, being pretty well convinced
that the stranger, after all, was steering a nearly westerly
course—right away from us—we reset our sail; and as
night fell, my Viking's entreaties, seconded by my own curiosity,
induced me to resume our original course; and so follow
after the vessel, with a view of obtaining a nearer
glimpse, without danger of detection. So, boldly we steered
for the sail.

But not gaining much upon her, spite of the lightness of
the breeze (a circumstance in our favor: the chase being a
ship, and we but a boat), at my comrade's instigation, we
added oars to sails, readily guiding our way by the former,
though the helm was left to itself.

As we came nearer, it was plain that the vessel was no
whaler; but a small, two-masted craft; in short, a brigantine.
Her sails were in a state of unaccountable disarray;
only the foresail, mainsail, and jib being set. The first
was much tattered; and the jib was hoisted but half
way up the stay, where it idly flapped, the breeze coming
from over the taffrail. She continually yawed in her
course; now almost presenting her broadside, then showing
her stern.

Striking our sails once more, we lay on our oars, and
watched her in the starlight. Still she swung from side to
side, and still sailed on.

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

Not a little terrified at the sight, superstitious Jarl more
than insinuated that the craft must be a gold-huntress,
haunted. But I told him, that if such were the case, we
must board her, come gold or goblins. In reality, however,
I began to think that she must have been abandoned by her
crew; or else, that from sickness, those on board were incapable
of managing her.

After a long and anxious reconnoiter, we came still
nearer, using our oars, but very reluctantly on Jarl's part;
who, while rowing, kept his eyes over his shoulder, as if
about to beach the little Chamois on the back of a whale
as of yore. Indeed, he seemed full as impatient to quit
the vicinity of the vessel, as before he had been anxiously
courting it.

Now, as the silent brigantine again swung round her
broadside, I hailed her loudly. No return. Again. But
all was silent. With a few vigorous strokes, we closed
with her, giving yet another unanswered hail; when, laying
the Chamois right alongside, I clutched at the main-chains.
Instantly we felt her dragging us along. Securing
our craft by its painter, I sprang over the rail, followed by
Jarl, who had snatched his harpoon, his favorite arms.
Long used with that weapon to overcome the monsters of
the deep, he doubted not it would prove equally serviceable
in any other encounter.

The deck was a complete litter. Tossed about were
pearl oyster shells, husks of cocoa-nuts, empty casks, and
cases. The deserted tiller was lashed; which accounted
for the vessel's yawing. But we could not conceive, how
going large before the wind, the craft could, for any considerable
time, at least, have guided herself without the
help of a hand. Still, the breeze was light and steady.

Now, seeing the helm thus lashed, I could not but distrust
the silence that prevailed. It conjured up the idea of
miscreants concealed below, and meditating treachery; unserupulous
mutineers—Lascars, or Manilla-men; who,

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

having murdered the Europeans of the crew, might not be
willing to let strangers depart unmolested. Or yet worse,
the entire ship's company might have been swept away by
a fever, its infection still lurking in the poisoned hull. And
though the first conceit, as the last, was a mere surmise, it
was nevertheless deemed prudent to secure the hatches,
which for the present we accordingly barred down with the
oars of our boat. This done, we went about the deck in
search of water. And finding some in a clumsy cask,
drank long and freely, and to our thirsty souls' content.

The wind now freshening, and the rent sails like to blow
from the yards, we brought the brigantine to the wind, and
brailed up the canvas. This left us at liberty to examine
the craft, though, unfortunately, the night was growing
hazy.

All this while our boat was still towing alongside; and I
was about to drop it astern, when Jarl, ever cautious, declared
it safer where it was; since, if there were people on
board, they would most likely be down in the cabin, from
the dead-lights of which, mischief might be done to the
Chamois.

It was then, that my comrade observed, that the brigantine
had no boats, a circumstance most unusual in any sort
of a vessel at sea. But marking this, I was exceedingly
gratified. It seemed to indicate, as I had opined, that from
some cause or other, she must have been abandoned of her
crew. And in a good measure this dispelled my fears of
foul play, and the apprehension of contagion. Encouraged
by these reflections, I now resolved to descend, and explore
the cabin, though sorely against Jarl's counsel. To be
sure, as he earnestly said, this step might have been deferred
till daylight; but it seemed too wearisome to wait. So
bethinking me of our tinder-box and candles, I sent him
into the boat for them. Presently, two candles were lit;
one of which the Skyeman tied up and down the barbed
end of his harpoon; so that upon going below, the keen

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

steel might not be far off, should the light be blown out by
a dastard.

Unfastening the cabin scuttle, we stepped downward into
the smallest and murkiest den in the world. The altar-like
transom, surmounted by the closed dead-lights in the stern,
together with the dim little sky-light overhead, and the somber
aspect of every thing around, gave the place the air of
some subterranean oratory, say a Prayer Room of Peter the
Hermit. But coils of rigging, bolts of canvas, articles of
clothing, and disorderly heaps of rubbish, harmonized not
with this impression. Two doors, one on each side, led into
wee little state-rooms, the berths of which also were littered.
Among other things, was a large box, sheathed with iron and
stoutly clamped, containing a keg partly filled with powder,
the half of an old cutlass, a pouch of bullets, and a case for
a sextant—a brass plate on the lid, with the maker's name,
London. The broken blade of the cutlass was very rusty
and stained; and the iron hilt bent in. It looked so tragical
that I thrust it out of sight.

Removing a small trap-door, opening into the space beneath,
called the “run,” we lighted upon sundry cutlasses
and muskets, lying together at sixes and sevens, as if pitched
down in a hurry.

Casting round a hasty glance, and satisfying ourselves,
that through the bulkhead of the cabin, there was no passage
to the forward part of the hold, we caught up the muskets
and cutlasses, the powder keg and the pouch of bullets, and
bundling them on deck, prepared to visit the other end of
the vessel. Previous to so doing, however, I loaded a musket,
and belted a cutlass to my side. But my Viking preferred
his harpoon.

In the forecastle reigned similar confusion. But there
was a snug little lair, cleared away in one corner, and furnished
with a grass mat and bolster, like those used among
the Islanders of these seas. This little lair looked to us as if
some leopard had crouched there. And as it turned out, we

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

were not far from right. Forming one side of this retreat,
was a sailor's chest, stoutly secured by a lock, and monstrous
heavy withal. Regardless of Jarl's entreaties, I managed to
burst the lid; thereby revealing a motley assemblage of
millinery, and outlandish knick-knacks of all sorts; together
with sundry rude calico contrivances, which though of unaccountable
cut, nevertheless possessed a certain petticoatish
air, and latitude of skirt, betokening them the habiliments
of some feminine creature; most probably of the human
species.

In this strong box, also, was a canvas bag, jingling with
rusty old bell-buttons, gangrened copper bolts, and sheathing
nails; damp, greenish Carolus dollars (true coin all), besides
divers iron screws, and battered chisels, and belaying-pins.
Sounded on the chest lid, the dollars rang clear as convent
bells. These were put aside by Jarl; the sight of substantial
dollars doing away, for the nonce, with his superstitious
misgivings. True to his kingship, he loved true coin; though
abroad on the sea, and no land but dollarless dominions
around, all this silver was worthless as charcoal or diamonds.
Nearly one and the same thing, say the chemists; but
tell that to the marines, say the illiterate Jews and the
jewelers. Go, buy a house, or a ship, if you can, with your
charcoal! Yea, all the woods in Canada charred down to
cinders would not be worth the one famed Brazilian diamond,
though no bigger than the egg of a carrier pigeon. Ah!
but these chemists are liars, and Sir Humphrey Davy a
cheat. Many's the poor devil they've deluded into the
charcoal business, who otherwise might have made his fortune
with a mattock.

Groping again into the chest, we brought to light a queer
little hair trunk, very bald and rickety. At every corner
was a mighty clamp, the weight of which had no doubt
debilitated the box. It was jealously secured with a padlock,
almost as big as itself; so that it was almost a question,
which was meant to be security to the other. Prying at it

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

hard, we at length effected an entrance; but saw no golden
moidores, no ruddy doubloons; nothing under heaven but
three pewter mugs, such as are used in a ship's cabin, several
brass screws, and brass plates, which must have belonged
to a quadrant; together with a famous lot of glass beads,
and brass rings; while, pasted on the inside of the cover,
was a little colored print, representing the harlots, the shameless
hussies, having a fine time with the Prodigal Son.

It should have been mentioned ere now, that while we
were busy in the forecastle, we were several times startled
by strange sounds aloft. And just after, crashing into the
little hair trunk, down came a great top-block, right through
the scuttle, narrowly missing my Viking's crown; a much
stronger article, by the way, than your goldsmiths turn out
in these days. This startled us much; particularly Jarl, as
one might suppose; but accustomed to the strange creakings
and wheezings of the masts and yards of old vessels at sea,
and having many a time dodged stray blocks accidentally
falling from aloft, I thought little more of the matter; though
my comrade seemed to think the noises somewhat different
from any thing of that kind he had ever heard before.

After a little more turning over of the rubbish in the forecastle,
and much marveling thereat, we ascended to the deck;
where we found every thing so silent, that, as we moved
toward the taffrail, the Skyeman unconsciously addressed me
in a whisper.

p275-086 CHAPTER XX. NOISES AND PORTENTS.

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

I longed for day. For however now inclined to believe
that the brigantine was untenanted, I desired the light of
the sun to place that fact beyond a misgiving.

Now, having observed, previous to boarding the vessel,
that she lay rather low in the water, I thought proper to
sound the well. But there being no line-and-sinker at
hand, I sent Jarl to hunt them up in the arm-chest on the
quarter-deck, where doubtless they must be kept. Meanwhile
I searched for the “breaks,” or pump-handles, which,
as it turned out, could not have been very recently used;
for they were found lashed up and down to the main-mast.

Suddenly Jarl came running toward me, whispering that
all doubt was dispelled;—there were spirits on board, to a
dead certainty. He had overheard a supernatural sneeze.
But by this time I was all but convinced, that we were
alone in the brigantine. Since, if otherwise, I could assign
no earthly reason for the crew's hiding away from a couple
of sailors, whom, were they so minded, they might easily
have mastered. And furthermore, this alleged disturbance
of the atmosphere aloft by a sneeze, Jarl averred to have
taken place in the main-top; directly underneath which I
was all this time standing, and had heard nothing. So complimenting
my good Viking upon the exceeding delicacy of
his auriculars, I bade him trouble himself no more with his
piratical ghosts and goblins, which existed nowhere but in
his own imagination.

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

Not finding the line-and-sinker, with the spare end of a
bowline we rigged a substitute; and sounding the well,
found nothing to excite our alarm. Under certain circumstances,
however, this sounding a ship's well is a nervous
sort of business enough. 'Tis like feeling your own pulse
in the last stage of a fever.

At the Skyeman's suggestion, we now proceeded to throw
round the brigantine's head on the other tack. For until
daylight we desired to alter the vessel's position as little as
possible, fearful of coming unawares upon reefs.

And here be it said, that for all his superstitious misgivings
about the brigantine; his imputing to her something
equivalent to a purely phantom-like nature, honest Jarl was
nevertheless exceedingly downright and practical in all hints
and proceedings concerning her. Wherein, he resembled
my Right Reverend friend, Bishop Berkeley—truly, one of
your lords spiritual—who, metaphysically speaking, holding
all objects to be mere optical delusions, was, notwithstanding,
extremely matter-of-fact in all matters touching matter
itself. Besides being pervious to the points of pins, and
possessing a palate capable of appreciating plum-puddings:—
which sentence reads off like a pattering of hailstones.

Now, while we were employed bracing round the yards,
whispering Jarl must needs pester me again with his confounded
suspicions of goblins on board. He swore by the
main-mast, that when the fore-yard swung round, he had
heard a half-stifled groan from that quarter; as if one of
his bugbears had been getting its aerial legs jammed. I
laughed:—hinting that goblins were incorporeal. Whereupon
he besought me to ascend the fore-rigging and test the
matter for myself. But here my mature judgment got the
better of my first crude opinion. I civilly declined. For
assuredly, there was still a possibility, that the fore-top
might be tenanted, and that too by living miscreants; and
a pretty hap would be mine, if, with hands full of rigging,
and legs dangling in air, while surmounting the oblique

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

futtock-shrouds, some unseen arm should all at once tumble
me overboard. Therefore I held my peace; while Jarl
went on to declare, that with regard to the character of the
brigantine, his mind was now pretty fully made up;—she
was an arrant impostor, a shade of a ship, full of sailors'
ghosts, and before we knew where we were, would dissolve
in a supernatural squall, and leave us twain in the water. In
short, Jarl, the descendant of the superstitious old Norsemen,
was full of old Norse conceits, and all manner of Valhalla
marvels concerning the land of goblins and goblets. No
wonder then, that with this catastrophe in prospect, he
again entreated me to quit the ill-starred craft, carrying off
nothing from her ghostly hull. But I refused.

One can not relate every thing at once. While in the
cabin, we came across a “barge” of biscuit, and finding its
contents of a quality much superior to our own, we had
filled our pockets and occasionally regaled ourselves in the
intervals of rummaging. Now this sea cake-basket we had
brought on deck. And for the first time since bidding
adieu to the Arcturion having fully quenched our thirst,
our appetite returned with a rush; and having nothing
better to do till day dawned, we planted the bread-barge
in the middle of the quarter-deck; and crossing our legs
before it, laid close seige thereto, like the Grand Turk and
his Vizier Mustapha sitting down before Vienna.

Our castle, the Bread-Barge was of the common sort; an
oblong oaken box, much battered and bruised, and like the
Elgin Marbles, all over inscriptions and carving:—foul
anchors, skewered hearts, almanacs, Burton-blocks, love
verses, links of cable, Kings of Clubs; and divers mystic
diagrams in chalk, drawn by old Finnish mariners, in
casting horoscopes and prophecies. Your old tars are all
Daniels. There was a round hole in one side, through
which, in getting at the bread, invited guests thrust their
hands.

And mighty was the thrusting of hands that night; also,

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

many and earnest the glances of Mustapha at every sudden
creaking of the spars or rigging. Like Belshazzar, my
royal Viking ate with great fear and trembling; ever and
anon pausing to watch the wild shadows flitting along
the bulwarks.

p275-090 CHAPTER XXI. MAN HO!

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

Slowly, fitfully, broke the morning in the East, showing
the desolate brig forging heavily through the water, which
sluggishly thumped under her bows. While leaping from
sea to sea, our faithful Chamois, like a faithful dog, still
gamboled alongside, confined to the main-chains by its painter.
At times, it would long lag behind; then, pushed by a
wave like lightning dash forward; till bridled by its leash,
it again fell in rear.

As the gray light came on, anxiously we scrutinized the
features of the craft, as one by one they became more plainly
revealed. Every thing seemed stranger now, than when
partially visible in the dingy night. The stanchions, or posts
of the bulwarks, were of rough stakes, still incased in the
bark. The unpainted sides were of a dark-colored, heathenish
looking wood. The tiller was a wry-necked, elbowed
bough, thrusting itself through the deck, as if the tree itself
was fast rooted in the hold. The binnacle, containing the
compass, was defended at the sides by yellow matting. The
rigging—shrouds, halyards and all—was of “Kaiar,” or
cocoa-nut fibres; and here and there the sails were patched
with plaited rushes.

But this was not all. Whoso will pry, must needs light
upon matters for suspicion. Glancing over the side, in the
wake of every scupper-hole, we beheld a faded, crimson stain,
which Jarl averred to be blood. Though now he betrayed
not the slightest trepidation; for what he saw pertained not
to ghosts; and all his fears hitherto had been of the supernatural.

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

Indeed, plucking up a heart, with the dawn of the day
my Viking looked bold as a lion; and soon, with the instinct
of an old seaman cast his eyes up aloft.

Directly, he touched my arm,—“Look: what stirs in the
main-top?”

Sure enough, something alive was there.

Fingering our arms, we watched it; till as the day came
on, a crouching stranger was beheld.

Presenting my piece, I hailed him to descend or be shot.
There was silence for a space, when the black barrel of a
musket was thrust forth, leveled at my head. Instantly,
Jarl's harpoon was presented at a dart;—two to one;—and
my hail was repeated. But no reply.

“Who are you?”

“Samoa,” at length said a clear, firm voice.

“Come down from the rigging. We are friends.”

Another pause; when, rising to his feet, the stranger
slowly descended, holding on by one hand to the rigging, for
but one did he have; his musket partly slung from his back,
and partly griped under the stump of his mutilated arm.

He alighted about six paces from where we stood; and
balancing his weapon, eyed us bravely as the Cid.

He was a tall, dark Islander, a very devil to behold, theatrically
arrayed in kilt and turban; the kilt of a gay calico
print, the turban of a red China silk. His neck was jingling
with strings of beads.

“Who else is on board?” I asked; while Jarl, thus far
covering the stranger with his weapon, now dropped it to the
deck.

“Look there:—Annatoo! was his reply in broken English,
pointing aloft to the fore-top. And lo! a woman,
also an Islander; and barring her skirts, dressed very much
like Samoa, was beheld descending.

“Any more?”

“No more.”

“Who are you then; and what craft is this?”

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

“Ah, ah—you are no ghost;—but are you my friend?”
he cried, advancing nearer as he spoke; while the woman,
having gained the deck, also approached, eagerly glancing.

We said we were friends; that we meant no harm; but
desired to know what craft this was; and what disaster had
befallen her; for that something untoward had occurred, we
were certain.

Whereto, Samoa made answer, that it was true that
something dreadful had happened; and that he would gladly
tell us all, and tell us the truth. And about it he went.

Now, this story of his was related in the mixed phraseology
of a Polynesian sailor. With a few random reflections,
in substance, it will be found in the six following
chapters.

p275-093 CHAPTER XXII. WHAT BEFEL THE BRIGANTINE AT THE PEARL SHELL ISLANDS.

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

The vessel was the Parki, of Lahina, a village and harbor
on the coast of Mowee, one of the Hawaian isles, where
she had been miserably cobbled together with planks of native
wood, and fragments of a wreck, there drifted ashore.

Her appellative had been bestowed in honor of a high
chief, the tallest and goodliest looking gentleman in all the
Sandwich Islands. With a mixed European and native
crew, about thirty in number (but only four whites in all,
captain included), the Parki, some four months previous, had
sailed from her port on a voyage southward, in quest of pearls,
and pearl oyster shells, sea-slugs, and other matters of that
sort.

Samoa, a native of the Navigator Islands, had long followed
the sea, and was well versed in the business of oyster
diving and its submarine mysteries. The native Lahineese
on board were immediately subordinate to him; the captain
having bargained with Samoa for their services as divers.

The woman, Annatoo, was a native of a far-off, anonymous
island to the westward: whence, when quite young,
she had been carried by the commander of a ship, touching
there on a passage from Macao to Valparaiso. At Valparaiso
her protector put her ashore; most probably, as I afterward
had reason to think, for a nuisance.

By chance it came to pass that when Annatoo's first
virgin bloom had departed, leaving nothing but a lusty frame
and a lustier soul, Samoa, the Navigator, had fallen desperately
in love with her. And thinking the lady to his mind,

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

being brave like himself, and doubtless well adapted to the
vicissitudes of matrimony at sea, he meditated suicide—I
would have said, wedlock—and the twain became one. And
some time after, in capacity of wife, Annatoo the dame, accompanied
in the brigantine, Samoa her lord. Now, as
Antony flew to the refuse embraces of Cæsar, so Samoa
solaced himself in the arms of this discarded fair one. And
the sequel was the same. For not harder the life Cleopatra
led my fine frank friend, poor Mark, than Queen Annatoo
did lead this captive of her bow and her spear. But all in
good time.

They left their port; and crossing the Tropic and the
Line, fell in with a cluster of islands, where the shells they
sought were found in round numbers. And here—not at all
strange to tell—besides the natives, they encountered a
couple of Cholos, or half-breed Spaniards, from the Main;
one half Spanish, the other half quartered between the wild
Indian and the devil; a race, that from Baldivia to Panama
are notorious for their unscrupulous villainy.

Now, the half-breeds having long since deserted a ship
at these islands, had risen to high authority among the natives.
This hearing, the Parki's captain was much gratified;
he, poor ignorant, never before having fallen in with any
of their treacherous race. And, no doubt, he imagined that
their influence over the Islanders would tend to his advantage.
At all events, he made presents to the Cholos; who,
in turn, provided him with additional divers from among the
natives. Very kindly, also, they pointed out the best places
for seeking the oysters. In a word, they were exceedingly
friendly; often coming off to the brigantine, and sociably
dining with the captain in the cabin; placing the salt between
them and him.

All things went on very pleasantly until, one morning,
the half-breeds prevailed upon the captain to go with them,
in his whale-boat, to a shoal on the thither side of the island,
some distance from the spot where lay the brigantine. They

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

so managed it, moreover, that none but the Lahineese under
Samoa, in whom the captain much confided, were left in
custody of the Parki; the three white men going along to
row; for there happened to be little or no wind for a sail.

Now, the fated brig lay anchored within a deep, smooth,
circular lagoon, margined on all sides but one by the most
beautiful groves. On that side, was the outlet to the sea;
perhaps a cable's length or more from where the brigantine
had been moored. An hour or two after the party were
gone, and when the boat was completely out of sight, the
natives in shoals were perceived coming off from the shore;
some in canoes, and some swimming. The former brought
bread fruit and bananas, ostentatiously piled up in their proas;
the latter dragged after them long strings of cocoanuts; for
all of which, on nearing the vessel, they clamorously demanded
knives and hatchets in barter.

From their actions, suspecting some treachery, Samoa
stood in the gangway, and warned them off; saying that no
barter could take place until the captain's return. But
presently one of the savages stealthily climbed up from the
water, and nimbly springing from the bob-stays to the bowsprit,
darted a javelin full at the foremast, where it vibrated.
The signal of blood! With terrible outcries, the rest, pulling
forth their weapons, hitherto concealed in the canoes, or
under the floating cocoanuts, leaped into the low chains of
the brigantine; sprang over the bulwarks; and, with clubs
and spears, attacked the aghast crew with the utmost ferocity.

After one faint rally, the Lahineese scrambled for the
rigging; but to a man were overtaken and slain.

At the first alarm, Annatoo, however, had escaped to the
fore-top-gallant-yard, higher than which she could not climb,
and whither the savages durst not venture. For though
after their nuts these Polynesians will climb palm trees like
squirrels; yet, at the first blush, they decline a ship's mast
like Kennebec farmers.

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

Upon the first token of an onslaught, Samoa, having
rushed toward the cabin scuttle for arms, was there fallen
upon by two young savages. But after a desperate momentary
fray, in which his arm was mangled, he made shift to
spring below, instantly securing overhead the slide of the
scuttle. In the cabin, while yet the uproar of butchery
prevailed, he quietly bound up his arm; then laying on the
transom the captain's three loaded muskets, undauntedly
awaited an assault.

The object of the natives, it seems, was to wreck the
brigantine upon the sharp coral beach of the lagoon. And
with this intent, one of their number had plunged into the
water, and cut the cable, which was of hemp. But the
tide ebbing, cast the Parki's head seaward—toward the outlet;
and the savages, perceiving this, clumsily boarded the
fore-tack, and hauled aft the sheet; thus setting, after a
fashion, the fore-sail, previously loosed to dry.

Meanwhile, a gray-headed old chief stood calmly at the
tiller, endeavoring to steer the vessel shoreward. But not
managing the helm aright, the brigantine, now gliding apace
through the water, only made more way toward the outlet.
Seeing which, the ringleaders, six or eight in number, ran to
help the old graybeard at the helm. But it was a black
hour for them. Of a sudden, while they were handling the
tiller, three muskets were rapidly discharged upon them from
the cabin skylight. Two of the savages dropped dead.
The old steersman, clutching wildly at the helm, fell over it,
mortally wounded; and in a wild panic at seeing their
leaders thus unaccountably slain, the rest of the natives
leaped overboard and made for the shore.

Hearing the splashing, Samoa flew on deck; and beholding
the foresail set, and the brigantine heading right
out to sea, he cried out to Annatoo, still aloft, to descend to
the topsail-yard, and loose the canvas there. His command
was obeyed. Annatoo deserved a gold medal for what she
did that day. Hastening down the rigging, after loosing

[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]

the topsail, she strained away at the sheets; in which operation
she was assisted by Samoa, who snatched an instant
from the helm.

The foresail and fore-topsail were now tolerably well set;
and as the craft drew seaward, the breeze freshened. And
well that it did; for, recovered from their alarm, the savages
were now in hot pursuit; some in canoes, and some
swimming as before. But soon the main-topsail was given
to the breeze, which still freshening, came from over the
quarter. And with this brave show of canvas, the Parki
made gallantly for the outlet; and loud shouted Samoa as
she shot by the reef, and parted the long swells without.
Against these, the savages could not swim. And at that
turn of the tide, paddling a canoe therein was almost
equally difficult. But the fugitives were not yet safe. In
full chase now came in sight the whale-boat manned by the
Cholos, and four or five Islanders. Whereat, making no
doubt, that all the whites who left the vessel that morning
had been massacred through the treachery of the halfbreeds;
and that the capture of the brigantine had been
premeditated; Samoa now saw no other resource than to
point his craft dead away from the land.

Now on came the devils buckling to their oars. Meantime
Annatoo was still busy aloft, loosing the smaller sails—
t'gallants and royals, which she managed partially to
set.

The strong breeze from astern now filling the ill-set sails,
they bellied, and rocked in the air, like balloons, while,
from the novel strain upon it, every spar quivered and
sprung. And thus, like a frightened gull fleeing from seahawks,
the little Parki swooped along, and bravely breasted
the brine.

His shattered arm in a hempen sling, Samoa stood at
the helm, the muskets reloaded, and planted full before him
on the binnacle. For a time, so badly did the brigantine
steer, by reason of her ill-adjusted sails, made still more

[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

unmanageable by the strength of the breeze,—that it was
doubtful, after all, notwithstanding her start, whether the
fugitives would not yet fall a prey to their hunters. The
craft wildly yawed, and the boat drew nearer and nearer.
Maddened by the sight, and perhaps thinking more of revenge
for the past, than of security for the future, Samoa,
yielding the helm to Annatoo, rested his muskets on the
bulwarks, and taking long, sure aim, discharged them, one
by one at the advancing foe.

The three reports were answered by loud jeers from the
savages, who brandished their spears, and made gestures of
derision; while with might and main the Cholos tugged at
their oars.

The boat still gaining on the brigantine, the muskets
were again reloaded. And as the next shot sped, there
was a pause; when, like lightning, the headmost Cholo
bounded upwards from his seat, and oar in hand, fell into
the sea. A fierce yell; and one of the natives springing
into the water, caught the sinking body by its long hair;
and the dead and the living were dragged into the boat.
Taking heart from this fatal shot, Samoa fired yet again;
but not with the like sure result; merely grazing the remaining
half-breed, who, crouching behind his comrades,
besought them to turn the boat round, and make for the
shore. Alarmed at the fate of his brother, and seemingly
distrustful of the impartiality of Samoa's fire, the pusillanimous
villain refused to expose a limb above the gunwale.

Fain now would the pursuers have made good their
escape; but an accident forbade. In the careening of the
boat, when the stricken Cholo sprung overboard, two of
their oars had slid into the water; and together with that
death-griped by the half-breed, were now floating off; occasionally
lost to view, as they sunk in the trough of the sea.
Two of the Islanders swam to recover them; but frightened
by the whirring of a shot over their heads, as they unavoidably
struck out towards the Parki, they turned quickly

[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

about; just in time to see one of their comrades smite his
body with his hand, as he received a bullet from Samoa.

Enough: darting past the ill-fated boat, they swam rapidly
for land, followed by the rest; who plunged overboard,
leaving in the boat the surviving Cholo—who it seems
could not swim—the wounded savage, and the dead man.

“Load away now, and take thy revenge, my fine fellow,”
said Samoa to himself. But not yet. Seeing all at his
mercy, and having none, he quickly laid his fore-topsail to
the mast; “hove to” the brigantine; and opened fire anew
upon the boat; every swell of the sea heaving it nearer
and nearer. Vain all efforts to escape. The wounded
man paddled wildly with his hands; the dead one rolled
from side to side; and the Cholo, seizing the solitary oar,
in his frenzied heedlessness, spun the boat round and round;
while all the while shot followed shot, Samoa firing as fast
as Annatoo could load. At length both Cholo and savage
fell dead upon their comrades, canting the boat over sideways,
till well nigh awash; in which manner she drifted
off.

p275-100 CHAPTER XXIII. SAILING FROM THE ISLAND THEY PILLAGE THE CABIN.

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

There was a small carronade on the forecastle, unshipped
from its carriage, and lashed down to ringbolts on the deck.
This Samoa now loaded; and with an ax knocking off the
round knob upon the breech, rammed it home in the tube.
When, running the cannon out at one of the ports, and studying
well his aim, he let fly, sunk the boat, and buried his dead.

It was now late in the afternoon; and for the present
bent upon avoiding land, and gaining the shoreless sea, never
mind where, Samoa again forced round his craft before the
wind, leaving the island astern. The decks were still cumbered
with the bodies of the Lahineese, which heel to point
and crosswise, had, log-like, been piled up on the main-hatch.
These, one by one, were committed to the sea; after which,
the decks were washed down.

At sunrise next morning, finding themselves out of sight
of land, with little or no wind, they stopped their headway,
and lashed the tiller alee, the better to enable them to overhaul
the brigantine; especially the recesses of the cabin.
For there, were stores of goods adapted for barter among the
Islanders; also several bags of dollars.

Now, nothing can exceed the cupidity of the Polynesian,
when, through partial commerce with the whites, his eyes
are opened to his nakedness, and he perceives that in some
things they are richer than himself.

The poor skipper's wardrobe was first explored; his chests
of clothes being capsized, and their contents strown about
the cabin floor.

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

Then took place the costuming. Samoa and Annatoo
trying on coats and pantaloons, shirts and drawers, and admiring
themselves in the little mirror panneled in the bulkhead.
Then, were broken open boxes and bales; rolls of
printed cotton were inspected, and vastly admired; insomuch,
that the trumpery found in the captain's chests was disdainfully
doffed: and donned were loose folds of calico, more
congenial to their tastes.

As case after case was opened and overturned, slippery
grew the cabin deck with torrents of glass beads; and heavy
the necks of Samoa and Annatoo with goodly bunches
thereof.

Among other things, came to light brass jewelry,—Rag
Fair gewgaws and baubles a plenty, more admired than all;
Annatoo, bedecking herself like a tragedy queen: one blaze
of brass. Much mourned the married dame, that thus arrayed,
there was none to admire but Samoa her husband;
but he was all the while admiring himself, and not her.

And here must needs be related, what has hitherto remained
unsaid. Very often this husband and wife were no
Darby and Joan. Their married life was one long campaign,
whereof the truces were only by night. They billed
and they cooed on their arms, rising fresh in the morning to
battle, and often Samoa got more than a hen-pecking. To
be short, Annatoo was a Tartar, a regular Calmue, and
Samoa—Heaven help him—her husband.

Yet awhile, joined together by a sense of common danger,
and long engrossed in turning over their tinsel acquisitions
without present thought of proprietorship, the pair refrained
from all squabbles. But soon burst the storm. Having
given every bale and every case a good shaking, Annatoo,
making an estimate of the whole, very coolly proceeded to
set apart for herself whatever she fancied. To this, Samoa
objected; to which objection Annatoo objected; and then
they went at it.

The lady vowed that the things were no more Samoa's

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

than hers; nay, not so much; and that whatever she wanted,
that same would she have. And furthermore, by way of
codicil, she declared that she was slave to nobody.

Now, Samoa, sad to tell, stood in no little awe of his
bellicose spouse. What, though a hero in other respects;
what, though he had slain his savages, and gallantly carried
his craft from their clutches:—Like the valiant captains
Marlborough and Belisarius, he was a poltroon to his wife.
And Annatoo was worse than either Sarah or Antonina.

However, like every thing partaking of the nature of a
scratch, most conjugal squabbles are quickly healed; for if
they healed not, they would never anew break out: which
is the beauty of the thing. So at length they made up;
but the treaty stipulations of Annatoo told much against the
interests of Samoa. Nevertheless, ostensibly, it was agreed
upon, that they should strictly go halves; the lady, however,
laying special claim to certain valuables, more particularly
fancied. But as a set-off to this, she generously renounced
all claims upon the spare rigging; all claims upon the foremast
and mainmast; and all claims upon the captain's
arms and ammunition. Of the latter, by the way, Dame
Antonina stood in no need. Her voice was a park of artillery;
her talons a charge of bayonets.

p275-103 CHAPTER XXIV. DEDICATED TO THE COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS.

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

By this time Samoa's wounded arm was in such a state,
that amputation became necessary. Among savages, severe
personal injuries are, for the most part, accounted but trifles.
When a European would be taking to his couch in despair,
the savage would disdain to recline.

More yet. In Polynesia, every man is his own barber and
surgeon, cutting off his beard or arm, as occasion demands.
No unusual thing, for the warriors of Varvoo to saw off
their own limbs, desperately wounded in battle. But owing
to the clumsiness of the instrument employed—a flinty, serrated
shell—the operation has been known to last several
days. Nor will they suffer any friend to help them; maintaining,
that a matter so nearly concerning a warrior is far
better attended to by himself. Hence it may be said, that
they amputate themselves at their leisure, and hang up their
tools when tired. But, though thus beholden to no one for
aught connected with the practice of surgery, they never cut
off their own heads, that ever I heard; a species of amputation
to which, metaphorically speaking, many would-be independent
sort of people in civilized lands are addicted.

Samoa's operation was very summary. A fire was
kindled in the little caboose, or cook-house, and so made
as to produce much smoke. He then placed his arm
upon one of the windlass bitts (a short upright timber,
breast-high), and seizing the blunt cook's ax would have
struck the blow; but for some reason distrusting the
precision of his aim, Annatoo was assigned to the task.

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

Three strokes, and the limb, from just above the elbow,
was no longer Samoa's; and he saw his own bones; which
many a centenarian can not say. The very clumsiness of
the operation was safety to the subject. The weight and
bluntness of the instrument both deadened the pain and
lessened the hemorrhage. The wound was then scorched,
and held over the smoke of the fire, till all signs of blood
vanished. From that day forward it healed, and troubled
Samoa but little.

But shall the sequel be told? How that, superstitiously
averse to burying in the sea the dead limb of a body yet
living; since in that case Samoa held, that he must very
soon drown and follow it; and how, that equally dreading
to keep the thing near him, he at last hung it aloft from
the topmast-stay; where yet it was suspended, bandaged
over and over in cerements. The hand that must have
locked many others in friendly clasp, or smote a foe, was
no food, thought Samoa, for fowls of the air nor fishes of
the sea.

Now, which was Samoa? The dead arm swinging high
as Haman? Or the living trunk below? Was the arm
severed from the body, or the body from the arm? The
residual part of Samoa was alive, and therefore we say it
was he. But which of the writhing sections of a ten times
severed worm, is the worm proper?

For myself, I ever regarded Samoa as but a large fragment
of a man, not a man complete. For was he not an
entire limb out of pocket? And the action at Teneriffe
over, great Nelson himself—physiologically speaking—was
but three-quarters of a man. And the smoke of Waterloo
blown by, what was Anglesea but the like? After Saratoga,
what Arnold? To say nothing of Mutius Scævola
minus a hand, General Knox a thumb, and Hannibal an
eye; and that old Roman grenadier, Dentatus, nothing
more than a bruised and battered trunk, a knotty sort of
hemlock of a warrior, hard to hack and hew into chips,

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

though much marred in symmetry by battle-ax blows. Ah!
but these warriors, like anvils, will stand a deal of hard
hammering. Especially in the old knight-errant times.
For at the battle of Brevieux in Flanders, my glorious old
gossiping ancestor, Froissart, informs me, that ten good
knights, being suddenly unhorsed, fell stiff and powerless to
the plain, fatally encumbered by their armor. Whereupon,
the rascally burglarious peasants, their foes, fell to picking
their visors; as burglars, locks; or oystermen, oysters; to
get at their lives. But all to no purpose. And at last
they were fain to ask aid of a blacksmith; and not till
then, were the inmates of the armor dispatched. Now it
was deemed very hard, that the mysterious state-prisoner
of France should be riveted in an iron mask; but these
knight-errants did voluntarily prison themselves in their
own iron Bastiles; and thus helpless were murdered therein.
Days of chivalry these, when gallant chevaliers died
chivalric deaths!

And this was the epic age, over whose departure my late
eloquent and prophetic friend and correspondent, Edmund
Burke, so movingly mourned. Yes, they were glorious
times. But no sensible man, given to quiet domestic delights,
would exchange his warm fireside and muffins, for a
heroic bivouac, in a wild beechen wood, of a raw gusty
morning in Normandy; every knight blowing his steelgloved
fingers, and vainly striving to cook his cold coffee in
his helmet.

p275-106 CHAPTER XXV. PERIL A PEACE-MAKER.

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

A few days passed: the brigantine drifting hither and
thither, and nothing in sight but the sea, when forth again
on its stillness rung Annatoo's domestic alarum. The truce
was up. Most egregiously had the lady infringed it; appropriating
to herself various objects previously disclaimed
in favor of Samoa. Besides, forever on the prowl, she was
perpetually going up and down; with untiring energy, exploring
every nook and cranny; carrying off her spoils and
diligently secreting them. Having little idea of feminine
adaptations, she pilfered whatever came handy:—iron hooks,
dollars, bolts, hatchets, and stopping not at balls of marline
and sheets of copper. All this, poor Samoa would
have borne with what patience he might, rather than
again renew the war, were it not, that the audacious
dame charged him with peculations upon her own private
stores; though of any such thing he was innocent as the
bowsprit.

This insulting impeachment got the better of the poor
islander's philosophy. He keenly resented it. And the consequence
was, that seeing all domineering useless, Annatoo flew
off at a tangent; declaring that, for the future, Samoa might
stay by himself; she would have nothing more to do with
him. Save when unavoidable in managing the brigantine,
she would not even speak to him, that she wouldn't, the
monster! She then boldly demanded the forecastle—in the
brig's case, by far the pleasantest end of the ship—for her
own independent suite of apartments. As for hapless

[figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

Belisarius, he might do what he pleased in his dark little den
of a cabin.

Concerning the division of the spoils, the termagant succeeded
in carrying the day; also, to her quarters, bale after
bale of goods, together with numerous odds and ends, sundry
and divers. Moreover, she laid in a fine stock of edibles,
so as, in all respects possible, to live independent of her
spouse.

Unlovely Annatoo! Unfortunate Samoa! Thus did the
pair make a divorce of it; the lady going upon a separate
maintenance,—and Belisarius resuming his bachelor loneliness.
In the captain's state room, all cold and comfortless,
he slept; his lady whilome retiring to her forecastle boudoir;
beguiling the hours in saying her pater-nosters, and tossing
over and assorting her ill-gotten trinkets and finery; like
Madame De Maintenon dedicating her last days and nights
to continence and calicoes.

But think you this was the quiet end of their conjugal
quarrels? Ah, no! No end to those feuds, till one or
t'other gives up the ghost.

Now, exiled from the nuptial couch, Belisarius bore the
hardship without a murmur. And hero that he was, who
knows that he felt not like a soldier on a furlough? But
as for Antonina, she could neither get along with Belisarius,
nor without him. She made advances. But of what sort?
Why, breaking into the cabin and purloining sundry goods
therefrom; in artful hopes of breeding a final reconciliation
out of the temporary outburst that might ensue.

Then followed a sad scene of altercation; interrupted at
last by a sudden loud roaring of the sea. Rushing to the
deck, they beheld themselves sweeping head-foremost toward
a shoal making out from a cluster of low islands, hitherto,
by banks of clouds, shrouded from view.

The helm was instantly shifted; and the yards braced
about. But for several hours, owing to the freshness of the
breeze, the set of the currents, and the irregularity and

[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

extent of the shoal, it seemed doubtful whether they would
escape a catastrophe. But Samoa's seamanship, united to
Annatoo's industry, at last prevailed; and the brigantine
was saved.

Of the land where they came so near being wrecked,
they knew nothing; and for that reason, they at once steered
away. For after the fatal events which had overtaken the
Parki at the Pearl Shell islands, so fearful were they of
encountering any Islanders, that from the first they had
resolved to keep open sea, shunning every appearance of
land; relying upon being eventually picked up by some
passing sail.

Doubtless this resolution proved their salvation. For to
the navigator in these seas, no risk so great, as in approaching
the isles; which mostly are so guarded by outpost reefs,
and far out from their margins environed by perils, that the
green flowery field within, lies like a rose among thorns;
and hard to be reached as the heart of proud maiden.
Though once attained, all three—red rose, bright shore, and
soft heart—are full of love, bloom, and all manner of delights.
The Pearl Shell islands excepted.

Besides, in those generally tranquil waters, Samoa's little
craft, though hundreds of miles from land, was very readily
managed by himself and Annatoo. So small was the Parki,
that one hand could brace the main-yard; and a very easy
thing it was, even to hoist the small top-sails; for after their
first clumsy attempt to perform that operation by hand, they
invariably led the halyards to the windlass, and so managed
it, with the utmost facility.

p275-109 CHAPTER XXVI. CONTAINING A PENNYWEIGHT OF PHILOSOPHY.

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

Still many days passed and the Parki yet floated. The
little flying-fish got used to her familiar, loitering hull; and
like swallows building their nests in quiet old trees, they
spawned in the great green barnacles that clung to her
sides.

The calmer the sea, the more the barnacles grow. In
the tropical Pacific, but a few weeks suffice thus to encase
your craft in shell armor. Vast bunches adhere to the very
cutwater, and if not stricken off, much impede the ship's
sailing. And, at intervals, this clearing away of barnacles
was one of Annatoo's occupations. For be it known, that,
like most termagants, the dame was tidy at times, though
capriciously; loving cleanliness by fits and starts. Wherefore,
these barnacles oftentimes troubled her; and with a
long pole she would go about, brushing them aside. It beguiled
the weary hours, if nothing more; and then she would
return to her beads and her trinkets; telling them all over
again; murmuring forth her devotions, and marking whether
Samoa had been pilfering from her store.

Now, the escape from the shoal did much once again to
heal the differences of the good lady and her spouse. And
keeping house, as they did, all alone by themselves, in that
lonely craft, a marvel it is, that they should ever have quarreled.
And then to divorce, and yet dwell in the same
tenement, was only aggravating the evil. So Belisarius and
Antonina again came together. But now, grown wise by
experience, they neither loved over-keenly, nor hated; but

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

took things as they were; found themselves joined, without
hope of a sundering, and did what they could to make a
match of the mate. Annatoo concluded that Samoa was
not wholly to be enslaved; and Samoa thought best to wink
at Annatoo's foibles, and let her purloin when she pleased.

But as in many cases, all this philosophy about wedlock
is not proof against the perpetual contact of the parties concerned;
and as it is far better to revive the old days of
courtship, when men's mouths are honey-combs: and, to
make them still sweeter, the ladies the bees which there store
their sweets; when fathomless raptures glimmer far down in
the lover's fond eye; and best of all, when visits are alternated
by absence: so, like my dignified lord duke and his
duchess, Samoa and Annatoo, man and wife, dwelling in the
same house, still kept up their separate quarters. Marlborough
visiting Sarah; and Sarah, Marlborough, whenever
the humor suggested.

p275-111 CHAPTER XXVII. IN WHICH THE PAST HISTORY OF THE PARKI IS CONCLUDED.

[figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

Still days, days, days sped by; and steering now this
way, now that, to avoid the green treacherous shores,
which frequently rose into view, the Parki went to and fro
in the sea; till at last, it seemed hard to tell, in what watery
world she floated. Well knowing the risks they ran,
Samoa desponded. But blessed be ignorance. For in the
day of his despondency, the lively old lass his wife bade
him be of stout heart, cheer up, and steer away manfully
for the setting sun; following which, they must inevitably
arrive at her own dear native island, where all their cares
would be over. So squaring their yards, away they glided;
far sloping down the liquid sphere.

Upon the afternoon of the day we caught sight of
them in our boat, they had sighted a cluster of low islands,
which put them in no small panic, because of their resemblance
to those where the massacre had taken place.
Whereas, they must have been full five hundred leagues
from that fearful vicinity. However, they altered their
course to avoid it; and a little before sunset, dropping the
islands astern, resumed their previous track. But very soon
after, they espied our little sea-goat, bounding over the billows
from afar.

This they took for a canoe giving chase to them. It
renewed and augmented their alarm.

And when at last they perceived that the strange object
was a boat, their fears, instead of being allayed, only so
much the more increased. For their wild superstitions led

[figure description] Page 105.[end figure description]

them to conclude, that a white man's craft coming upon
them so suddenly, upon the open sea, and by night, could
be naught but a phantom. Furthermore, marking two of
us in the Chamois, they fancied us the ghosts of the Cholos.
A conceit which effectually damped Samoa's courage, like
my Viking's, only proof against things tangible. So seeing
us bent upon boarding the brigantine; after a hurried overturning
of their chattels, with a view of carrying the most
valuable aloft for safe keeping, they secreted what they
could; and together made for the fore-top; the man with
a musket, the woman with a bag of beads. Their endeavoring
to secure these treasures against ghostly appropriation
originated in no real fear, that otherwise they
would be stolen: it was simply incidental to the vacant
panic into which they were thrown. No reproach this, to
Belisarius' heart of game; for the most intrepid Feegee
warrior, he who has slain his hecatombs, will not go ten
yards in the dark alone, for fear of ghosts.

Their purpose was to remain in the top until daylight;
by which time, they counted upon the withdrawal of their
visitants; who, sure enough, at last sprang on board, thus
verifying their worst apprehensions.

They watched us long and earnestly. But curious to
tell, in that very strait of theirs, perched together in that
airy top, their domestic differences again broke forth; most
probably, from their being suddenly forced into such very
close contact.

However that might be, taking advantage of our descent
into the cabin, Samoa, in desperation fled from his wife, and
one-armed as he was, sailor-like, shifted himself over by the
fore and aft-stays to the main-top, his musket being slung to
his back. And thus divided, though but a few yards intervened,
the pair were as much asunder as if at the opposite
Poles.

During the live-long night they were both in great perplexity
as to the extraordinary goblins on board. Such

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

inquisitive, meddlesome spirits, had never before been encountered.
So cool and systematic; sagaciously stopping
the vessel's headway the better to rummage;—the very plan
they themselves had adopted. But what most surprised
them, was our striking a light, a thing of which no true
ghost would be guilty. Then, our eating and drinking on
the quarter-deck including the deliberate investment of
Vienna; and many other actions equally strange, almost led
Samoa to fancy that we were no shades, after all, but a
couple of men from the moon.

Yet they had dimly caught sight of the frocks and trowsers
we wore, similar to those which the captain of the Parki
had bestowed upon the two Cholos, and in which those villains
had been killed. This, with the presence of the whale-boat,
united to chase away the conceit of our lunar origin.
But these considerations renewed their first superstitious impressions
of our being the ghosts of the murderous halfbreeds.

Nevertheless, while during the latter part of the night we
were reclining beneath him, munching our biscuit, Samoa
eyeing us intently, was half a mind to open fire upon us by
way of testing our corporeality. But most luckily, he concluded
to defer so doing till sunlight; if by that time we
should not have evaporated.

For dame Annatoo, almost from our first boarding the
brigantine, something in our manner had bred in her a lurking
doubt as to the genuineness of our atmospheric organization;
and abandoned to her speculations when Samoa fled
from her side, her incredulity waxed stronger and stronger.
Whence we came she knew not; enough, that we seemed
bent upon pillaging her own precious purloinings. Alas!
thought she, my buttons, my nails, my tappa, my dollars,
my beads, and my boxes!

Wrought up to desperation by these dismal forebodings,
she at length shook the ropes leading from her own perch to
Samoa's; adopting this method of arousing his attention to

[figure description] Page 107.[end figure description]

the heinousness of what was in all probability going on in
the cabin, a prelude most probably to the invasion of her
own end of the vessel. Had she dared raise her voice, no
doubt she would have suggested the expediency of shooting
us so soon as we emerged from the cabin. But failing to
shake Samoa into an understanding of her views on the subject,
her malice proved futile.

When her worst fears were confirmed, however, and we
actually descended into the forecastle; there ensued such a
reckless shaking of the ropes, that Samoa was fain to hold
on hard, for fear of being tossed out of the rigging. And it
was this violent rocking that caused the loud creaking of the
yards, so often heard by us while below in Annatoo's apartment.

And the fore-top being just over the open forecastle scuttle,
the dame could look right down upon us; hence our proceedings
were plainly revealed by the lights that we carried.
Upon our breaking open her strong-box, her indignation
almost completely overmastered her fears. Unhooking a
top-block, down it came into the forecastle, charitably commissioned
with the demolition of Jarl's cocoa-nut, then more
exposed to the view of an aerial observer than my own. But
of it turned out, no harm was done to our porcelain.

At last, morning dawned; when ensued Jarl's discovery
as the occupant of the main-top; which event, with what
followed, has been duly recounted.

And such, in substance, was the first, second, third and
fourth acts of the Parki drama. The fifth and last, including
several scenes, now follows.

p275-115 CHAPTER XXVIII. SUSPICIONS LAID, AND SOMETHING ABOUT THE CALMUC.

[figure description] Page 108.[end figure description]

Though abounding in details full of the savor of reality,
Samoa's narrative did not at first appear altogether satisfactory.
Not that it was so strange; for stranger recitals I
had heard.

But one reason, perhaps, was that I had anticipated a
narrative quite different; something agreeing with my previous
surmises.

Not a little puzzling, also, was his account of having seen
islands the day preceding; though, upon reflection, that
might have been the case, and yet, from his immediately
altering the Parki's course, the Chamois, unknowingly might
have sailed by their vicinity. Still, those islands could form
no part of the chain we were seeking. They must have
been some region hitherto undiscovered.

But seems it likely, thought I, that one, who, according
to his own account, has conducted himself so heroically in
rescuing the brigantine, should be the victim of such childish
terror at the mere glimpse of a couple of sailors in an
open boat, so well supplied, too, with arms, as he was, to
resist their capturing his craft, if such proved their intention?
On the contrary, would it not have been more natural, in
his dreary situation, to have hailed our approach with the
utmost delight? But then again, we were taken for phantoms,
not flesh and blood. Upon the whole, I regarded the
narrator of these things somewhat distrustfully. But he
met my gaze like a man. While Annatoo, standing by,
looked so expressively the Amazonian character imputed to

[figure description] Page 109.[end figure description]

her, that my doubts began to waver. And recalling all the
little incidents of their story, so hard to be conjured up on the
spur of a presumed necessity to lie; nay, so hard to be conjured
up at all; my suspicions at last gave way. And I
could no longer harbor any misgivings.

For, to be downright, what object could Samoa have, in
fabricating such a narrative of horror—those of the massacre,
I mean—unless to conceal some tragedy, still more
atrocious, in which he himself had been criminally concerned?
A supposition, which, for obvious reasons, seemed
out of the question. True, instances were known to me of
half-civilized beings, like Samoa, forming part of the crews
of ships in these seas, rising suddenly upon their white shipmates,
and murdering them, for the sake of wrecking the
ship on the shore of some island near by, and plundering her
hull, when stranded.

But had this been purposed with regard to the Parki,
where the rest of the mutineers? There was no end to my
conjectures; the more I indulged in them, the more they
multiplied. So, unwilling to torment myself, when nothing
could be learned, but what Samoa related, and stuck to like
a hero; I gave over conjecturing at all; striving hard to
repose full faith in the Islander.

Jarl, however, was skeptical to the last; and never could
be brought completely to credit the tale. He stoutly maintained
that the hobgoblins must have had something or other
to do with the Parki.

My own curiosity satisfied with respect to the brigantine,
Samoa himself turned inquisitor. He desired to know
who we were; and whence we came in our marvelous
boat. But on these heads I thought best to withhold from
him the truth; among other things, fancying that if disclosed,
it would lessen his deference for us, as men superior to himself.
I therefore spoke vaguely of our adventures, and
assumed the decided air of a master; which I perceived
was not lost upon the rude Islander. As for Jarl, and what

[figure description] Page 110.[end figure description]

he might reveal, I embraced the first opportunity to impress
upon him the importance of never divulging our flight from
the Arcturion; nor in any way to commit himself on that
head: injunctions which he faithfully promised to observe.

If not wholly displeased with the fine form of Samoa,
despite his savage lineaments, and mutilated member, I was
much less conciliated by the person of Annatoo; who, being
sinewy of limb, and neither young, comely, nor amiable, was
exceedingly distasteful in my eyes. Besides, she was a tigress.
Yet how avoid admiring those Penthesilian qualities which
so signally had aided Samoa, in wresting the Parki from its
treacherous captors. Nevertheless, it was indispensable that
she should at once be brought under prudent subjection; and
made to know, once for all, that though conjugally a rebel,
she must be nautically submissive. For to keep the sea
with a Calmuc on board, seemed next to impossible. In
most military marines, they are prohibited by law; no officer
may take his Pandora and her bandbox off soundings.

By the way, this self-same appellative, Pandora, has been
bestowed upon vessels. There was a British ship by that
name, dispatched in quest of the mutineers of the Bounty.
But any old tar might have prophesied her fate. Bound
home she was wrecked on a reef off New South Wales.
Pandora, indeed! A pretty name for a ship: fairly smiting
Fate in the face. But in this matter of christening ships of
war, Christian nations are but too apt to be dare-devils.
Witness the following: British names all.—The Conqueror,
the Defiance, the Revenge, the Spitfire, the Dreadnaught,
the Thunderer, and the Tremendous; not omitting the
Etna, which, in the Roads of Corfu, was struck by lightning,
coming nigh being consumed by fire from above. But
almost potent as Moses' rod, Franklin's proved her salvation.

With the above catalogue, compare we the Frenchman's;
quite characteristic of the aspirations of Monsieur:—
The Destiny, the Glorious, the Magnanimous, the

[figure description] Page 111.[end figure description]

Magnificent, the Conqueror, the Triumphant, the Indomitable, the
Intrepid, the Mont-Blanc. Lastly, the Dons; who have
ransacked the theology of the religion of peace for fine names
for their fighting ships; stopping not at designating one of
their three-deckers, The Most Holy Trinity. But though,
at Trafalgar, the Santissima Trinidada thundered like
Sinai, her thunders were silenced by the victorious cannonade
of the Victory.

And without being blown into splinters by artillery, how
many of these Redoubtables and Invincibles have succumbed
to the waves, and like braggarts gone down before hurricanes,
with their bravadoes broad on their bows.

Much better the American names (barring Scorpions,
Hornets, and Wasps;) Ohio, Virginia, Carolina, Vermont.
And if ever these Yankees fight great sea engagements—
which Heaven forefend!—how glorious, poetically speaking,
to range up the whole federated fleet, and pour forth a
broadside from Florida to Maine. Ay, ay, very glorious
indeed! yet in that proud crowing of cannon, how shall the
shade of peace-loving Penn be astounded, to see the mightiest
murderer of them all, the great Pennsylvania, a very
namesake of his. Truly, the Pennsylvania's guns should
be the wooden ones, called by men-of-war's-men, Quakers.

But all this is an episode, made up of digressions. Time
to tack ship, and return.

Now, in its proper place, I omitted to mention, that
shortly after descending from the rigging, and while Samoa
was rehearsing his adventures, dame Annatoo had stolen
below into the forecastle, intent upon her chattels. And
finding them all in mighty disarray, she returned to the
deck prodigiously excited, and glancing angrily toward Jarl
and me, showered a whole torrent of objurgations into both
ears of Samoa.

This contempt of my presence surprised me at first; but
perhaps women are less apt to be impressed by a pretentious
demeanor, than men.

[figure description] Page 112.[end figure description]

Now, to use a fighting phrase, there is nothing like boarding
an enemy in the smoke. And therefore, upon this first
token of Annatoo's termagant qualities, I gave her to understand—
craving her pardon—that neither the vessel nor
aught therein was hers; but that every thing belonged to
the owners in Lahina. I added, that at all hazards, a stop
must be put to her pilferings. Rude language for feminine
ears; but how to be avoided? Here was an infatuated
woman, who, according to Samoa's account, had been repeatedly
detected in the act of essaying to draw out the
screw-bolts which held together the planks. Tell me;
was she not worse than the Load-Stone Rock, sailing by
which a stout ship fell to pieces?

During this scene, Samoa said little. Perhaps he was
secretly pleased that his matrimonial authority was reinforced
by myself and my Viking, whose views of the proper
position of wives at sea, so fully corresponded with his own;
however difficult to practice, those purely theoretical ideas of
his had hitherto proved.

Once more turning to Annatoo, now looking any thing but
amiable, I observed, that all her clamors would be useless;
and that if it came to the worst, the Parki had a hull that
would hold her.

In the end she went off in a fit of the sulks; sitting down
on the windlass and glaring; her arms akimbo, and swaying
from side to side; while ever and anon she gave utterance
to a dismal chant. It sounded like an invocation to
the Cholos to rise and dispatch us.

p275-120 CHAPTER XXIX. WHAT THEY LIGHTED UPON IN FURTHER SEARCHING THE CRAFT, AND THE RESOLUTION THEY CAME TO.

[figure description] Page 113.[end figure description]

Descending into the cabin with Samoa, I bade him hunt
up the brigantine's log, the captain's writing-desk, and nautical
instruments; in a word, aught that could throw light
on the previous history of the craft, or aid in navigating her
homeward.

But nearly every thing of the kind had disappeared: log,
quadrant, and ship's papers. Nothing was left but the
sextant-case, which Jarl and I had lighted upon in the state-room.

Upon this, vague though they were, my suspicions returned;
and I closely questioned the Islander concerning the disappearance
of these important articles. In reply, he gave
me to understand, that the nautical instruments had been
clandestinely carried down into the forecastle by Annatoo;
and by that indefatigable and inquisitive dame they had
been summarily taken apart for scientific inspection. It
was impossible to restore them; for many of the fixtures
were lost, including the colored glasses, sights, and little
mirrors; and many parts still recoverable, were so battered
and broken as to be entirely useless. For several days afterward,
we now and then came across bits of the quadrant or
sextant; but it was only to mourn over their fate.

However, though sextant and quadrant were both unattainable,
I did not so quickly renounce all hope of discovering
a chronometer, which, if in good order, though at present
not ticking, might still be made in some degree serviceable.

[figure description] Page 114.[end figure description]

But no such instrument was to be seen. No: nor to be heard
of; Samoa himself professing utter ignorance.

Annatoo, I threatened and coaxed; describing the chronometer—
a live, round creature like a toad, that made a
strange noise, which I imitated; but she knew nothing about
it. Whether she had lighted upon it unbeknown to Samoa,
and dissected it as usual, there was now no way to determine.
Indeed, upon this one point, she maintained an air of such
inflexible stupidity, that if she were really fibbing, her deadwall
countenance superseded the necessity for verbal deceit.

It may be, however, that in this particular she was
wronged; for, as with many small vessels, the Parki might
never have possessed the instrument in question. All
thought, therefore, of feeling our way, as we should penetrate
farther and farther into the watery wilderness, was
necessarily abandoned.

The log book had also formed a portion of Annatoo's pilferings.
It seems she had taken it into her studio to ponder
over. But after amusing herself by again and again counting
over the leaves, and wondering how so many distinct
surfaces could be compacted together in so small a compass,
she had very suddenly conceived an aversion to literature, and
dropped the book overboard as worthless. Doubtless, it met
the fate of many other ponderous tomes; sinking quickly
and profoundly. What Camden or Stowe hereafter will
dive for it?

One evening Samoa brought me a quarto half-sheet of
yellowish, ribbed paper, much soiled and tarry, which he
had discovered in a dark hole of the forecastle. It had
plainly formed part of the lost log; but all the writing
thereon, at present decipherable, conveyed no information
upon the subject then nearest my heart.

But one could not but be struck by a tragical occurrence,
which the page very briefly recounted as well, as by a noteworthy
pictorial illustration of the event in the margin of
the text. Save the cut, there was no further allusion to the

[figure description] Page 115.[end figure description]

matter than the following:—“This day, being calm, Tooboi,
one of the Lahina men, went overboard for a bath, and was
eaten up by a shark. Immediately sent forward for his
bag.”

Now, this last sentence was susceptible of two meanings.
It is truth, that immediately upon the decease of a friendless
sailor at sea, his shipmates oftentimes seizee upon his effects,
and divide them; though the dead man's clothes are seldom
worn till a subsequent voyage. This proceeding seems
heartless. But sailors reason thus: Better we, than the
captain. For by law, either scribbled or unscribbled, the
effects of a mariner, dying on shipboard, should be held in
trust by that officer. But as sailors are mostly foundlings
and castaways, and carry all their kith and kin in their
arms and their legs, there hardly ever appears any heirat-law
to claim their estate; seldom worth inheriting,
like Esterhazy's. Wherefore, the withdrawal of a dead
man's “kit” from the forecastle to the cabin, is often held
tantamount to its virtual appropriation by the captain. At
any rate, in small ships on long voyages, such things have
been done.

Thus much being said, then, the sentence above quoted
from the Parki's log, may be deemed somewhat ambiguous.
At the time it struck me as singular; for the poor diver's
grass bag could not have contained much of any thing valuable;
unless, peradventure, he had concealed therein some
Cleopatra pearls, feloniously abstracted from the shells
brought up from the sea.

Aside of the paragraph, copied above, was a pen-and-ink
sketch of the casualty, most cruelly executed; the poor
fellow's legs being represented half way in the process of
deglutition; his arms firmly grasping the monster's teeth,
as if heroically bent upon making as tough a morsel of himself
as possible.

But no doubt the honest captain sketched this cenotaph
to the departed in all sincerity of heart; perhaps, during

[figure description] Page 116.[end figure description]

the melancholy leisure which followed the catastrophe.
Half obliterated were several stains upon the page; seemingly,
lingering traces of a salt tear or two.

From this unwonted embellishment of the text, I was led
to infer, that the designer, at one time or other, must have
been engaged in the vocation of whaling. For, in India
ink, the logs of certain whalemen are decorated by somewhat
similar illustrations.

When whales are seen, but not captured, the fact is denoted
by an outline figure representing the creature's flukes,
the broad, curving lobes of his tail. But in those cases
where the monster is both chased and killed, this outline is
filled up jet black; one for every whale slain; presenting
striking objects in turning over the log; and so facilitating
reference. Hence, it is quite imposing to behold, all in a
row, three or four, sometime five or six, of these drawings;
showing that so many monsters that day jetted their last
spout. And the chief mate, whose duty it is to keep the
ship's record, generally prides himself upon the beauty, and
flushy likeness to life, of his flukes; though, sooth to say,
many of these artists are no Landseers.

After vainly searching the cabin for those articles we most
needed, we proceeded to explore the hold, into which as yet
we had not penetrated. Here, we found a considerable
quantity of pearl shells; cocoanuts; an abundance of fresh
water in casks; spare sails and rigging; and some fifty barrels
or more of salt beef and biscuit. Unromantic as these
last mentioned objects were, I lingered over them long, and
in a revery. Branded upon each barrel head was the name
of a place in America, with which I was very familiar. It
is from America chiefly, that ship's stores are originally procured
for the few vessels sailing out of the Hawaiian Islands.

Having now acquainted myself with all things respecting
the Parki, which could in any way be learned, I repaired to
the quarter-deck, and summoning round me Samoa, Annatoo,
and Jarl, gravely addressed them.

[figure description] Page 117.[end figure description]

I said, that nothing would give me greater satisfaction
than forthwith to return to the scene of the massacre, and
chastise its surviving authors. But as there were only four
of us in all; and the place of those islands was wholly unknown
to me; and even if known, would be altogether out
of our reach, since we possessed no instruments of navigation;
it was quite plain that all thought of returning thither
was entirely useless. The last mentioned reason, also,
prevented our voyaging to the Hawaiian group, where the
vessel belonged; though that would have been the most
advisable step, resulting, as it would, if successful, in restoring
the ill-fated craft to her owners.

But all things considered, it seemed best, I added, cautiously
to hold on our way to the westward. It was our
easiest course; for we would ever have the wind from
astern; and though we could not so much as hope to arrive
at any one spot previously designated, there was still a positive
certainty, if we floated long enough, of falling in with
islands whereat to refresh ourselves; and whence, if we
thought fit, we might afterward embark for more agreeable
climes. I then reminded them of the fact, that so long as
we kept the sea, there was always some prospect of encountering
a friendly sail; in which event, our solicitude would
be over.

All this I said in the mild, firm tone of a superior; being
anxious, at once to assume the unquestioned supremacy.
For, otherwise, Jarl and I might better quit the vessel forthwith,
than remain on board subject to the outlandish caprices
of Annatoo, who through Samoa would then have the sway.
But I was sure of my Viking; and if Samoa proved docile,
had no fear of his dame.

And therefore during my address, I steadfastly eyed him;
thereby learning enough to persuade me, that though he deferred
to me at present, he was, notwithstanding, a man
who, without precisely meditating mischief, could upon occasion
act an ugly part. But of his courage, and savage

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honor, such as it was, I had little doubt. Then, wild buffalo
that he was, tamed down in the yoke matrimonial, I could
not but fancy, that if upon no other account, our society
must please him, as rendering less afflictive the tyranny of
his spouse.

For a hen-pecked husband, by the way, Samoa was a
most terrible fellow to behold. And though, after all, I
liked him; it was as you fancy a fiery steed with mane
disheveled, as young Alexander fancied Bucephalus; which
wild horse, when he patted, he preferred holding by the
bridle. But more of Samoa anon.

Our course determined, and the command of the vessel
tacitly yielded up to myself, the next thing done was to put
every thing in order. The tattered sails were replaced by
others, dragged up from the sail-room below; in several
places, new running-rigging was rove; blocks restrapped;
and the slackened stays and shrouds set taught. For all of
which, we were mostly indebted to my Viking's unwearied
and skillful marling-spike, which he swayed like a scepter.

The little Parki's toilet being thus thoroughly made for
the first time since the massacre, we gave her new raiment
to the breeze, and daintily squaring her yards, she gracefully
glided away; honest old Jarl at the helm, watchfully guiding
her path, like some devoted old foster-father.

As I stood by his side like a captain, or walked up and
down on the quarter-deck, I felt no little importance upon
thus assuming for the first time in my life, the command of
a vessel at sea. The novel circumstances of the case only
augmented this feeling; the wild and remote seas where we
were; the character of my crew, and the consideration, that
to all purposes, I was owner, as well as commander of the
craft I sailed.

p275-126 CHAPTER XXX. HINTS FOR A FULL LENGTH OF SAMOA.

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My original intention to touch at the Kingsmill Chain,
or the countries adjacent, was greatly strengthened by thus
encountering Samoa; and the more I had to do with my
Belisarius, the more I was pleased with him. Nor could I
avoid congratulating myself, upon having fallen in with a
hero, who in various ways, could not fail of proving exceedingly
useful.

Like any man of mark, Samoa best speaks for himself;
but we may as well convey some idea of his person. Though
manly enough, nay, an obelisk in stature, the savage was
far from being sentimentally prepossessing. Be not alarmed;
but he wore his knife in the lobe of his dexter ear, which,
by constant elongation almost drooped upon his shoulder.
A mode of sheathing it exceedingly handy, and far less brigandish
than the Highlander's dagger concealed in his leggins.

But it was the mother of Samoa, who at a still earlier
day had punctured him through and through in still another
direction. The middle cartilage of his nose was slightly
pendent, peaked, and Gothic, and perforated with a hole;
in which, like a Newfoundland dog carrying a cane, Samoa
sported a trinket: a well polished nail.

In other respects he was equally a coxcomb. In his style
of tattooing, for instance, which seemed rather incomplete;
his marks embracing but a vertical half of his person, from
crown to sole; the other side being free from the slightest
stain. Thus clapped together, as it were, he looked like a
union of the unmatched moieties of two distinct beings; and

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your fancy was lost in conjecturing, where roamed the absent
ones. When he turned round upon you suddenly,
you thought you saw some one else, not him whom you
had been regarding before.

But there was one feature in Samoa beyond the reach of
the innovations of art:—his eye; which in civilized man or
savage, ever shines in the head, just as it shone at birth.
Truly, our eyes are miraculous things. But alas, that in
so many instances, these divine organs should be mere lenses
inserted into the socket, as glasses in spectacle rims.

But my Islander had a soul in his eye; looking out upon
you there, like somebody in him. What an eye, to be sure!
At times, brilliantly changeful as opal; in anger, glowing
like steel at white heat.

Belisarius, be it remembered, had but very recently lost
an arm. But you would have thought he had been born
without it; so Lord Nelson-like and cavalierly did he sport
the honorable stump.

But no more of Samoa; only this: that his name had
been given him by a sea-captain; to whom it had been suggested
by the native designation of the islands to which he
belonged; the Saviian or Samoan group, otherwise known
as the Navigator Islands. The island of Upolua, one of
that cluster, claiming the special honor of his birth, as Corsica
does Napoleon's, we shall occasionally hereafter speak
of Samoa as the Upoluan; by which title he most loved to
be called.

It is ever ungallant to pass over a lady. But what shall
be said of Annatoo? As I live, I can make no pleasing
portrait of the dame; for as in most ugly subjects, flattering
would but make the matter worse. Furthermore, unalleviated
ugliness should ever go unpainted, as something unnecessary
to duplicate. But the only ugliness is that of the
heart, seen through the face. And though beauty be obvious,
the only loveliness is invisible.