A WILD OCEAN RIDE.
BY GEORGE H. COOMER.
One of the most exciting scenes with a whale which I ever witnessed occurred while I belonged to the ship Luminary, upon a cruise in the Arctic Ocean.
The noble game had at that period become very wild. Chased successively from the North Pacific, from the Okhotsk, and from the Sea of Kamtschatka, they had finally taken refuge above Behring Strait; and thither the fleet of eager "blubber-hunters" had followed them, like Nelson in pursuit of the French.
The stately old Luminary, with all her royals set, and her trim, handsome boats upon the cranes, had stood gallantly to the northward, braving, with her many expectant consorts, the keen breezes from the pole. The Arctic was to be our Trafalgar, where the fleeing enemy, at last driven to bay, must yield to a general attack.
It should be borne in mind that the right-whale, the species of which we were in pursuit, grows to a much larger size than the sperm. Some which we captured "stowed down" more than two hundred barrels each, and we heard of others of still greater bulk.
They were dangerous old fellows too, although, unlike the sperm-whale, they acted solely on the defensive, and never came at us head on.
After a time there was circulated through the fleet a rumor of a certain great whale that everybody wanted, and nobody could get. Captain Burdick, of the Canova, had seen and ventured upon him.
"He kicked like a mustang," said the Captain; "stove two of my boats, and threw me twenty feet high, so that if I hadn't seen where I was going to fall, and turned myself in the air, I should have come down among all those harpoons and lances and splinters. There's three hundred and fifty barrels under that old black hide if there's a gallon."
But Captain Burdick would lie—he was proverbial for it—and the men said, "Oh, that's only one of Burdick's yarns." He was blown up once in a steamer loaded with carpenters' tools, and told how he dodged the augers that whizzed about his head.
We soon found, however, that Captain Burdick and the Canova were not the only master and ship that had encountered the great whale. Captain Atwell, of the Atlantic, had seen him; Captain Soule, of the South America, had seen him; Captain Robbins, of the Tartar, had seen him; and they all told us that he had more irons in his back than a porcupine had quills.
The boats of the Dolphin had "cut from him," because, after a long run to windward, he "sounded," taking out three lengths of line, and coming near carrying all hands to the bottom.
The Rorqual's boats had met with worse luck than this, for three of them had been knocked into splinters, and several of their men killed and wounded by the sweep of those terrible "flukes." We found the crew of this ship sober enough as they related their experience.
Such accidents are very common among whalemen; but when a number of them are successively caused by the efforts of a single well-known individual, the animal becomes famous throughout the fleet—as if he were a leviathan Bruce, or Tell, or Hereward, gallantly defending the invaded rights of his race.
How many of the big, shy fellows we chased to no purpose! for, as our boats were paddled cautiously upon a school, some one of the wary creatures would turn a small black eye upon us, then put himself leisurely in motion, like a steamboat gliding from a pier-head, increasing his speed as he went, and all the others would depart with him, leaving only the vacant water and their long white wakes behind.
The Canova and the Luminary were much in company, and often we could hear the cheery voice of old Burdick from his quarter-deck.
At length the way of the two ships became much impeded by ice. All about us were floating masses, which in the slant polar sunbeams took on hues of exceeding beauty. Some of these moving islands were very high, and reminded us of immense cathedrals with hundreds of glittering windows; others were low and far-reaching, like treeless plains. But in all the open channels, the spouts of great right-whales went up like crystal fountains. We could see them close at hand, and away off on the horizon. A spectacle so inspiring I had never looked upon before, nor have I since.
Back to the mast went the maintopsail of each ship, and down splashed her four boats. Captain Wayne, of the Luminary, looked nervously in the direction of his old acquaintance Burdick, and called upon us to give way in earnest.
What a chase it was! around points of the ice, through narrow channels, up temporary lagoons, and anon in the broad, open sea.
The game avoided us. Pull as silently as we would, the great leviathans would still glide away at the very moment we seemed about to close with them.
In one of the ice-formed lagoons, round as the "round table" of the famous knights, and perhaps a mile in diameter, there were at least a dozen of the animals, "blowing," "breaching," and "turning flukes." This place we finally entered for a dash at the school.
But it was like entering a corral of bison, where heels and tails are all in the air at once. One of our boats was stove forthwith, and one of Captain Burdick's. The jovial commander himself got fast, but was obliged to cut from his whale to avoid being taken under the ice.
My own place was with our third mate, a young, athletic man, who, although an excellent whaleman, had of late, through no fault of his own, been so unfortunate that Captain Wayne, in an unreasoning fit of temper, had threatened to "break" him, and send him before the mast. But he had the sympathy and respect of his boat's crew, who knew the circumstances.
We all hoped, on Mr. Brewer's account even more than our own, that our boat would this day get a whale.
Bob Rivers, a brawny, powerful fellow, was our boat-steerer. But the boat-steerer has nothing to do with steering until he has struck the whale, when he exchanges places with his superior, and goes from the bow to the stern.
In spite of our hopes, however, it seemed as if we must at last return to the ship without a single laurel from this stirring field. We had only the poor consolation of beholding others as little fortunate as ourselves.
But the moment of triumph was at hand, when all our disappointments were to be well repaid.
We were at the farther side of the lagoon, all the other boats being dispersed here and there, and a whale, which Bob Rivers had thought to strike, was just moving out of our reach, when suddenly, a little off our starboard bow, there rushed to the surface, and shot high above it, a monster much larger than any of the others.
With a loud noise, his great frame fell upon the water, which rolled away from his sides in long wide swells. And then, catching sight of us, he started swiftly off, crossing the head of our boat at a distance which would have seemed hopeless to an ordinary harpooner; yet I felt the quick motion of Bob Rivers as he gathered himself, for the dart.
Once, twice, the boat shook from end to end under his feet; and both his good irons were sped. One missed, but the other reached the mark.
"Hurrah!" cried Mr. Brewer; "you're fast! you're fast!—and clear up to the hitch! It was a noble throw, Bob. I was afraid you couldn't hit him."
Bob and the third mate now changed places, the former taking the steering oar, and the latter, lance in hand, planting himself at the bow. The whale started off with astonishing velocity; and, shipping our oars, we turned with our faces to the bow, alert for the least sign of mishap, and ready with knife or hatchet to sever the line at an instant's notice.
My hat went off my head, but I did not know it. The water boiled higher than the boat's sides; and the harpoon line looked like a rod of iron. Old Bob Rivers clung to his steering oar with both hands, seeming, with all his strength, hardly more than a pigmy in that tremendous commotion.
The other boats were passed in a moment. Captain Wayne looked on with inexpressible interest. Captain Burdick stood up and shouted. We could distinguish only a few words:
"You've got him! you've got him! You'll find half a dozen of my irons in his back. But look out for him—he'll stave you yet."
But he did not stave us. He headed out of the lagoon, and ran for a long distance beyond it. At length he sounded, taking out such a quantity of line that we lost almost all hope of saving him. Then, to our great relief, he began coming up. Up, up, up he came, and we gathered in the slack as he rose.
When he had reached the surface, the boat was hauled quietly to the right position, and Mr. Brewer, standing upon the bow, gave him the lance with a true and powerful stroke.
We then instantly "sterned off," although not until the broad flukes had gone over our heads, fearfully close to us; and the whale at once commenced spouting thick blood—a sign that all was over with him.
The Luminary ran down to us, and the huge prize was towed alongside of her. We found in his back a number of harpoons, one of which, sure enough, was Captain Burdick's; and from this circumstance, together with the fact of his unusual size, there remained no doubt that the animal was the same which had so excited the curiosity of the fleet.
He yielded the very large amount of two hundred and ninety-six barrels.
"Old Burdick," remarked Mr. Brewer—whom this adventure made the lion of the fleet—"wasn't so far out of the way, after all. He came within fifty-four barrelfuls of the truth—didn't he?"
[OUR BABY AGAIN.]
BY JIMMY BROWN.
After this, don't say anything more to me about babies. There's nothing more spiteful and militious than a baby. Our baby got me into an awful scrape once—the time I blacked it. But I didn't blame it so much that time, because, after all, it was partly my fault; but now it has gone and done one of the meanest things a baby ever did, and came very near ruining me.
It has been a long time since mother and Sue said they would never trust me to take care of the baby again, but the other day they wanted awfully to go to a funeral. It was a funeral of one of their best friends, and there was to be lots of flowers, and they expected to see lots of people, and they said they would try me once more. They were going to be gone about two hours, and I was to take care of the baby till they came home again. Of course I said I would do my best, and so I did; only when a boy does try to do his best, he is sure to get himself into trouble. How many a time and oft have I found this to be true! Ah! this is indeed a hard and hollow world. The last thing Sue said when she went out of the door was, "Now be a good boy if you play any of your tricks I'll let you know." I wish Mr. Travers would marry her, and take her to China. I don't believe in sisters, anyway.
They hadn't been gone ten minutes when the baby woke up and cried, and I knew it did it on purpose. Now I had once read in an old magazine that if you put molasses on a baby's fingers, and give it a feather to play with, it will try to pick that feather off, and amuse itself, and keep quiet for ever so long. I resolved to try it; so I went straight down stairs and brought up the big molasses jug out of the cellar. Then I made a little hole in one of mother's pillows, and pulled out a good handful of feathers. The baby stopped crying as soon as it saw what I was at, and so led me on, just on purpose to get me into trouble.
Well, I put a little molasses on the baby's hands, and put the feathers in its lap, and told it to be good and play real pretty. The baby began to play with the feathers, just as the magazine said it would, so I thought I would let it enjoy itself while I went up to my room to read a little while.
That baby never made a sound for ever so long, and I was thinking how pleased mother and Sue would be to find out a new plan for keeping it quiet. I just let it enjoy itself till about ten minutes before the time when they were to get back from the funeral, and then I went down to mother's room to look after the "little innocent," as Sue calls it. Much innocence there is about that baby!
I never saw such a awful spectacle. The baby had got hold of the molasses jug, which held mornagallon, and had upset it and rolled all over in it. The feathers had stuck to it so close that you couldn't hardly see its face, and its head looked just like a chicken's head. You wouldn't believe how that molasses had spread over the carpet. It seemed as if about half the room was covered with it. And there sat that wretched "little innocent" laughing to think how I'd catch it when the folks came home.
Now wasn't it my duty to wash that baby, and get the feathers and molasses off it? Any sensible person would say that it was. I tried to wash it in the wash-basin, but the feathers kept sticking on again as fast as I got them off. So I took it to the bath-tub and turned the water on, and held the baby right under the stream. The feathers were gradually getting rinsed away, and the molasses was coming off beautifully, when something happened.
The water made a good deal of noise, and I was standing with my back to the bath-room door, so that I did not hear anybody come in. The first thing I knew Sue snatched the baby away, and gave me such a box over the ear. Then she screamed out, "Ma! come here this wicked boy is drowning the baby O you little wretch won't you catch it for this." Mother came running up stairs, and they carried the baby into mother's room to dry it.
You should have heard what they said when Sue slipped and sat down in the middle of the molasses, and cried out that her best dress was ruined, and mother saw what a state the carpet was in! I wouldn't repeat their language for worlds. It was personal, that's what it was, and I've been told fifty times never to make personal remarks. I should not have condescended to notice it if mother hadn't begun to cry; and of course I went and said I was awfully sorry, and that I meant it all for the best, and wouldn't have hurt the baby for anything, and begged her to forgive me and not cry any more.
When father came home they told him all about it. I knew very well they would, and I just lined myself with shingles so as to be good and ready. But he only said, "My son, I have decided to try milder measures with you. I think you are punished enough when you reflect that you have made your mother cry."
That was all, and I tell you I'd rather a hundred times have had him say, "My son, come up stairs with me." And now if you don't admit that nothing could be meaner than the way that baby acted, I shall really be surprised and shocked.