In an hour the stranger was close alongside. She turned out to be one of those famous craft, which are fast disappearing—a South Sea whaler.
She was truly an interesting sight as she rolled heavily on the long westerly swell, lying hove-to under bare poles, with nothing but a tarpaulin in the mizzen rigging.
She was evidently a real old-timer, for as she rolled you could see that she was as round as a barrel, with a square sawed off stern and an apple-cheeked bow, surmounted by a long jibboom with a great hoist to it.
She had no yard above the main-topgallant but the crow's-nest—a huge barrel from which the look-out, with skinned eyes, searches the ocean for the longed-for blow of the whale—hung on the main-topgallant mast, looking heavy and bulky enough at that height to carry away the slender spar.
But this same crow's-nest was empty. The whaler had a well-seasoned and weather-stained appearance. As she heeled over she showed a bottom covered with long weed and barnacles. Her rigging had a slack and unkempt look about it, being a mass of bights and Irish pennants; whilst her yards were badly braced and cocked at all angles.
Only two men could be seen on her decks, and they seemed to pay little attention to the Higgins.
There was no one at her wheel, but as she was hove-to a helmsman was not necessary; for all that, she had a strange appearance of desolation about her.
The two men visible seemed busily occupied, whilst squatting on their hams, at some mysterious work, and an object stood on the deck between them which was too small to be distinguished, but seemed to be giving them a great deal of thought, for they looked to be both staring fixedly at it.
"Come yew hyeh!" called the old man to Jim, who was busy polishing the compass case. "Come yew hyeh, boy, an' help me with these flags."
"Neow then," he went on, hauling the Stars-and-stripes out of the flag-locker, "run 'Old Glory' up to the monkey-gaff."