“Shure, Oi dunno but phwat it’s the truth yez do be afther sp’akin’, Master Tom,” agreed the Irishman grinning. “But b’gorra ’tis wan thing to be talkin’ av goin’ an’ another to be aboarrd. Shure ’tis no knowin’ as Misther Dixon’ll be afther takin’ anny av us, at all, at all.”
“Well, we’re going to find out if we can go first—before we ask him,” said Jim. “And if we can, I’ll bet we can get Mr. Dixon to take you and Cap’n Pem. Mr. Nye and Captain Edwards can put in a good word for you, and besides, everybody in New Bedford knows you’re the two best whalemen here, and real whalemen are scarce nowadays.”
“Well, ’tis havin’ av me doots Oi do be, as the Scotchman sez,” declared Mike. “Cruisin’ to the Ar’tic’s not a bit the same as cruisin’ south—phwat wid the oice an’ all.”
“Fiddlesticks!” snorted Cap’n Pem. “What do ye know erbout it? Ye ain’t no whaleman. Bet ye he’ll be right glad fer to git us. ’Tain’t so all-fired easy to git navergators these times. An’ I’ve been in the ice—why, durn it, wuzn’t I ice pilot fer the ol’ Petrel?”
“Well, I hope he will take you—both,” said Tom. “Our folks will be more likely to let us go if you two are along. When do you think the schooner’ll be ready to sail? And say, I never saw a schooner like her. She’s got yards on her foremast like a brigantine.”
“Course she has,” replied Cap’n Pem. “Thet’s what makes her a torps’l schooner. Didn’t ye never seed one afore? But shucks, ’course ye didn’t. Ain’t many on ’em knockin’ erbout nowadays. Time wuz when they wuz thicker’n rats on a lime juicer. Yessir, an’ mighty handy craf’ in the ice, I tell ye. Thet’s why Dixon’s a-fittin’ o’ the Narwhal out I ’spect. Ye see a or’nary fore-an’-aft schooner’s all right fer a-sailin’ on the wind, or when the win’s on the quarter or abeam, but she ain’t no use dead afore it, an’ ye can’t back her. An’ by glory! I’m a-tellin’ ye that when ye’re a-handlin’ of a ship in the ice, with bergs fore-an’-aft an’ to po’t an’ sta’board, an’ jes leads in the floes, ye wants a ship what kin back an’ fill an’ make steerageway st’arn fummust. Yessir, an’ the torps’l schooner’s the hooker what fills the bill. An’ as fer gettin’ ready, how can I tell? Reckon if there ain’t too pesky much to be did, she’ll be gettin’ away long ’bout the fust o’ June. Have ter fetch Hudson Straits by fust o’ August to git through safe an’ soun’.”
“Hurrah! that makes it all the better,” cried Tom. “School will be pretty near over and we could miss a few days—at the last. There’s just a lot of graduation exercises and such things. Come on, Jim, let’s go and see what our folks say.”
But the boys’ parents frowned upon the scheme at once. “That cruise in the Hector should be enough to last you boys for a lifetime,” declared Mr. Lathrop. “And a cruise to the Arctic is a very different matter. The Narwhal’s a very old and small ship, and she’ll spend the winter there probably, freeze in and take chances of being crushed. And you’d find it far from a picnic. Why, just imagine being locked hard and fast in the ice for six or eight months with the temperature fifty or sixty below zero, and shut up in the ship with a crowd of greasy whalers and Eskimos. No, Jim, there’s far too much risk.”
“Oh, hang it all!” cried Jim bitterly. “You said there’d be danger on the Hector and everything was all right, and I’d love to be in the ice all winter and see Eskimos and hunt polar bears and walrus and everything. Say, if Cap’n Pem and Mike go, can’t I go too?”
Mr. Lathrop shook his head decisively. “If the entire crew of the Hector went along, I’d not consent,” he declared. “But I’ll ask Tom’s father and see if he agrees with me.”