Amidst the confusion caused by the excited elements there was the sturdy little captain, calm and cool, and giving his orders with that clearness and decision which had always characterized him. Men were called for to go aloft and cut away the swaying wreck, and save the ship. The first to obey this summons was young Tite Toodleburg, whose example was followed by the young man I have described as third mate, and one of his companions. They mounted the fore, main, and mizzen rigging, and working with all their strength and skill soon had the swaying wreck cut away, and the ship relieved of her strain. But in descending, the third mate, who had so gallantly performed his duty, lost his hold, and the ship giving a terrible lurch, he was plunged into the sea, and seen no more.
The ship now gradually righted, and with the aid of a storm-sail in her mizzen rigging, for her top-sail had been torn into shreds, her head was got to the wind.
In that latitude gales of this kind are of short duration, generally; and in half an hour from the time it struck the ship there was a calm, smooth sea, and all hands were engaged repairing damages.
On the following morning the ship was proceeding on her course, with a light breeze from the north and a clear sky. Captain Bottom was there on the quarter-deck, directing affairs, and in a talkative mood.
"She's a good ship, sir, this old Pacific is, Mr. Higgins;" said he, again addressing that officer. "Never knew her get off her feet before." He always spoke of the ship as if she were a thing of life. "Bless her staunch old soul! Made her timbers talk, eh? Wants a man as has got confidence in the craft what's under him. Then if she goes down, why he feels like being a hero and keeping her company.
"But it makes me feel bad, Mr. Higgins, that we have lost our third mate, poor fellow! He was a good sailor, and a brave young man, and had such good friends at home, who thought so much of him." And as he said this tears glistened in his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for that young man, I am, so I am, Mr. Higgins," said the old sailor, wiping the tears from his bronzed cheeks. "I do hope his soul will sail in peace in a better world." Again he shook his head sorrowfully, and then paused for a minute as if to regain control of his feelings. "God forgive me," he resumed, "for making a woman of myself. Don't do it often, Mr. Higgins."
"Shows that you have a kind heart, sir, and can shed a tear when it is touched. I appreciate you for it. There is something manly in the tear of a brave sailor," returned the officer, coldly, but politely. "We shall get a good observation to-day, and if the men work hearty all the spare spars and sails will be up by nightfall." Mr. Higgins's mind was evidently on his duty, and not being inclined to enjoy the captain's conversation, he took every opportunity to change the subject.
"Give us your hand, Mr. Higgins," said he, rather unannoyed than otherwise by what that officer had said. "But look you here!" He lowered his voice as he took the officer's hand, "There'll be no whales to kill where that poor fellow has gone. Not a whale. I promised his poor old father—a good old red coat killer he was, too, in the Revolution—that this here son of his should kill the first whale. Yes, I did, Mr. Higgins. And that's what mortifies me. He's dead, you see, poor fellow. T'was'nt my fault that I did'nt keep my promise. There'll be no whales to kill where he's gone, poor fellow!" Again he shook his head feelingly, then raising his hat, wiped the sweat from his bronzed brow.
He now sent for Tite, who came upon the quarter-deck nervously, and saluted his superior. "Well, my hearty," said Captain Bottom, "here's my hand. You're a sailor, every inch on you. And a brave man, too, if Captain Bottom does say it." Tite was not a little surprised at this familiarity on the part of his captain, for he had before coming on board been led to believe that the most severe discipline ruled on board a whale ship.
"There's the true sailor in you, my hearty," continued the captain, again shaking Tite warmly by the hand. "You saved the ship, my hearty. There'd a bin no more of the good old Pacific—God bless her! nor none of us standin' here, but for you, my hearty."