CHAPTER V
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NIGHT
Cap'n Abe produced a pipe. He looked at his niece tentatively.
"Do—do you mind tobacker smoke?"
"Daddy-prof is an inveterate," she laughed.
"Huh? An—an invet'rate what?"
"Smoker. I don't begrudge a man smoking tobacco as long as we women have our tea. A nerve tonic in both cases."
"I dunno for sure that I've got any nerves," Cap'n Abe said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "Mebbe I was behind the door when they was given out. But a pipeful o' tobacker this time o' the evening does seem sort o' satisfyin'. That, and knittin'."
Having filled his pipe and lit it, he puffed a few times to get it well alight and then reached for a covered basket that Louise had noticed on a small stand under Jerry's cage. He drew from this a half-fashioned gray stocking that was evidently intended for his own foot and the needles began to click in his strong, capable hands.
"Supprise you some, does it, Louise?" Cap'n Abe said. "Cap'n Am'zon taught me. Most old whalers knit. That, an' doin' scrimshaw work, was 'bout all that kep' 'em from losing their minds on them long v'y'ges into the Pacific. An' I've seen the time myself when I was hi-mighty glad I'd l'arned to count stitches.
"Land sakes! Some o' them whalin' v'y'ges lasted three-four years. Cap'n Am'zon was in the old bark Neptune's Daughter when she was caught in the ice and drifted pretty average close't to the south pole.