Treasure of the Seas / Illustrated

by James De Mille

The sun thus set, and the moon had now come out, throwing a gentler glow upon the scene, and lighting it up with wonderful beauty. The edges of the hills, and the outlines of the islands seemed all tipped with silver. On one side appeared Aspotogon, and Ironbound, and Tancook, rising out of the dark, shadowy water; while on the other side the islands shone in the lustre of the moon, and there, too, a broad pathway of radiant light lay outspread upon the surface of the water, reaching from the schooner to the horizon, where a low coast bounded the scene. Never had Ma-hone Bay appeared clothed in greater loveliness.

Captain Corbet had learned a very useful lesson during this last voyage of the Antelope, and that was to have some means on board by which he would not drift so helplessly. The long drifts which had borne him hither and thither over the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and over the ocean, had left a deep impression; and accordingly he had taken advantage of this visit to Chester to procure a pair of long sweeps, which may be described as oars of the largest size. On the present occasion, the sweeps were brought into requisition, one of them being worked by Turnbull, Bruce, and Phil, while the other was taken in hand by Wade, Arthur, and Tom. The venerable Corbet stood at the helm and steered, while Solomon stood at the bows, gazing pensively into space, and, as Tom declared, attitudinizing for a figure-head.

The sweeps were moved with very long, slow strokes. The two parties who managed them at first made an effort to work them in time, but at length gave this up, and each made their stroke at random, without reference to the others. Whether the Antelope made any progress or not, was not for a long time perceptible; but still the boys all felt as though they were doing something, and the lapse of time certainly seemed to bring them nearer to the island which they had been so long approaching.

The exercise was a pleasant one, and in order to cheer their spirits, they burst forth into songs. One was volunteered by Tom.
What vessel are you gliding in?
Pray tell to me its name;
Our vessel is the Antelope,
And Corbet is my name,
And Corbet is my name,
And Corbet is my name;
Our vessel is the Antelope,
And Corbet is my name.

At this Captain Corbet’s venerable face was all suffused with sudden smiles.

“Why railly.” said he, “railly now, dew tell. Why, ef you ain’t ben an done it agin. Only think, more rimes about me. Why, it doos beat all. How upon airth dew you ever manage to fix em up that way? It doos—beat—my—grandmother!”

Other songs followed, till almost everything was made use of that they had ever heard—the Canadian Boat Song, the Maltese Boat Song, and others of a kindred character, including “Hail to the Chief,” and “March! March! Ettrick, and Teviotdale.” In this way the time was beguiled, and their toil at the long sweeps lightened.

Around them the whole scene glowed in the moonlight. The silver islands set in silver seas, clothed in soft lustre, lay reflected in the smooth water. Overhead the moon hung in a cloudless sky, and lightened up all things with its soft and mellow radiance. They could see also by the change in their position, which they noticed from time to time, that they were actually making some progress with their sweeps, and the discovery, when it was made, encouraged them not a little.

So at it they all went again, more vigorously than ever, and sang new songs, some of which were of a kind never before heard in these waters. One in particular, which was sung to a remarkable fugue tune, was called Ode to Disappointment.
I never had a piece of bread
Particularly wide,
Partic-kik-kik-kik-kik-cu-lar-ly wide,
But fell upon the dusty floor,
All on the buttered side.
All on the but—
All on the but—
All on the but—
All on the but—
All on the but-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tered side.
And always thus, from childhood’s hour,
This luck on me has fell.
This luck-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk on me has fell.
There always comes a soaking shower,
When I’ve no umberell,
When I’ve no umb—
When I’ve no umb—
When I’ve no umb—
When I’ve no umb—
When I’ve no umb-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-
bum-be-rell!

This spirited ode was the arrangement of Phil, who prided himself hugely upon it. He did not claim it as original, but as having been “arranged” and “adapted” to its present tune.