"Jumping bowheads, yes! It's toward the great-circle route. Another half point and we'll be on it. What does that mean, Cushner?"
"I'll be skull-dragged if I know!"
"The great-circle route leads to Japan and northern China. We'll sight Rat Island on this route, and miss the only good pass to the Bering by five hundred leagues. That ain't right!"
"Thar's a lot about this ship what ain't right!" declared the Yankee. "We're in the hands of Captain Marr."
Stirling reached for his pipe, gathered together a palmful of cut plug, struck a sulphur match on the rail at his side and held the flame to the bowl till it glowed. He drew in the smoke, then squared his jaw and clamped the amber stem.
"We'll keep our eyes open!" he said through white teeth. "I think I saw the woman on the poop. I think it was a woman. She wouldn't answer the man at the wheel. She had Marr's clothes on. That's mighty queer doings for a simple whaler bound after bowheads and trade stuff!"
Cushner thrust out a calloused hand. "Put it there," he said. "We'll see this voyage through and find out what's wrong if it takes three seasons. I'm just almighty curious to know!"
[CHAPTER VII—DRIFTERS AND DERELICTS]
Stirling kept a careful record of the changes given in the course of the Pole Star, and found that the little skipper was reaching for the true great-circle route to Yokohama. This was checked by Cushner, who was a good rule-of-thumb navigator.
They kept their observations from Whitehouse. The mate was a frugal soul who spent much of his time driving the crew over the decks or keeping them polishing the brass work with a sand-and-paste preparation which was homemade and cheap.