We finished loading at last, and had to say good-bye to our kind-hearted friends. Many of them came to see us off. Captain Crosbie seemed very pleased, and when they had gone he turned to me saying with a smile:
“You seem to have had a good time, boys.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, “a time I shall never forget, or Jones either.”
“That’s right, enjoy life while your hearts are young, it will help you to do your work better, and give you pleasant things to think of when you are old. Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, drink it in with all your eyes; it is a charmed draught, a cup of blessing. It is God’s handwriting.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, and went to my work with a light heart. We left the wharf in the early morning with a full cargo of wool, tallow, hides, rabbit skins, etc., for London.
CHAPTER V
Stormy Weather
We had fine clear weather when leaving Wellington, the sea was smooth so that the “Bertie” made fair speed through the water with every stitch of canvas set. When passing Chatham Islands we saw in the distance an unusual disturbance on the surface of the water, which, on our getting nearer, we found to be caused by a school of bottle-nosed whales. Hundreds of them were playing about, turning over and over on the surface of the water. The sailors said we should have a gale before the day was out, and sure enough we had. At sunset heavy woolly-looking clouds began to rise in the south and the wind had a moaning, sad sound.
In search of information as usual, I went to the second mate, and asked him how they could tell that a gale was near while the weather was so beautifully fine.
“Ah, my boy,” he replied, “there are many signs that warn a watchful seaman of the coming storm, first, the falling barometer, then the appearance of the sky, then the swell, and the height the seabirds fly. The sea, too, has a peculiar smell like stale kelp. Nature has many ways of warning mariners to prepare for rough weather. The Almighty never sends a storm without first warning his children of its coming—look at that,” he continued, pointing to the sunset, it was a showering of gold under the raven black wing of a cloud, and the rolling sea was black and golden underneath that rain of splendour. “That is another warning given to us by the great Master Artist, much of the beauty and wonder of the sea lies in the lights and shadows which the mighty mirror borrows from the heavens above, many and marvellous, some awe-striking as the miracles of old, are drawn by the pencil of the Great Hand.”