“That’s so,” put in Stump, “and Molly Banks, of Nantucket, was one of them kind. In my young days, I made a lubber of myself, by proposing to splice hands with that young she. But, she hadn’t enough devotion in her natur’, she said, to marry a man that wore a pigtail.” This took me all aback, as well it might; says I, “Why, Molly,” says I, “the Stumps always wore ’em, and mine is very becoming to me!”
“Nonsense!” says she, “it’s too old-fashioned; I’d never have courage to take a husband with one of them things.”
“All right,” says I, as I sheered off, “a woman that hasn’t neither devotion nor courage, isn’t to my taste.”
“You are a sensible man, Jack,” cried Harry, smiling. “I think I should have acted in the same manner, had I been in your place.”
“The damsel was certainly unworthy of you, friend Stump, and showed herself to be a very frivolous creature,” said Alice.
She drew her cloak more closely about her as she spoke, for a cold, drizzling rain had just commenced to fall, increasing the chilliness of the atmosphere, and dampening the young girl’s cheeks and the thick braids of her hair.
Her lover, who had been watching her with tender concern, now motioned to Stump, and made his way to the spot near which the boat that Lark had provided for their accommodation had been stove and sunk. The wreck of the little craft was still partially visible, for, as the two men perceived, upon making an examination of it, the keel had become wedged in a narrow fissure that extended across a shelf of ice about a foot and a half beneath the surface of the water.
“This is fortunate!” cried the harpooner, “for the wreck and its contents will be of great service to us. We can pull the boat out of the water, I think, with a little exertion.”
“Ay, ay,” replied Stump, “we can do it with the help of some of the whale line—a few coils of which are still left in one of the tubs, as you can see for yourself.”
The young man threw off his jacket, as his shipmate spoke, and rolled up one of his shirt sleeves to his shoulder. Then stooping over the edge of the ice, he plunged his naked arm into the partially submerged boat, and seizing the end of the rope to which the shipkeeper had alluded, he drew it up and proceeded to coil the line upon the surface of the frozen raft. After this task had been accomplished, a part of the rope was secured to the shattered bow of the boat, whose contents, consisting of a few lances, a couple of harpoons, a hatchet, a small bucket of tar with a brush, the two line-tubs, the boatsail, a few large chunks of salt beef, a breaker of fresh water—another containing hard bread—and a few of the other articles, were taken out. Then both Marline and his chum grasped that part of the line which was about a fathom from the place where it was fastened, and tugged and strained at it until they had succeeded in raising the head of the vessel above the edge of the ice. A quarter of an hour’s work accomplished the rest, and, as the shattered craft lay dripping before them, upon the ice, the little party exchanged glances of the most intense satisfaction.