Mr. Rudd would be some days repairing the damage done by the fighting whale. And meanwhile, what was going to become of poor Ben Gibson?
For our cheerful, boyish second mate was badly hurt. Consider: the whale had actually shut his jaws on Ben, and that one crunch should, by good rights, have finished the young fellow.
But he was reserved for a better fate, it seemed. When the captain overhauled his nephew, he found that he had sustained, beside the scalp wound from which he bled so much, a broken arm, a lacerated leg above the knee, and several broken ribs. These ribs and possible internal injuries are what feazed Captain Hi. He was no mean “catch as catch can” surgeon; most whaling captains have had to tackle serious medical and surgical difficulties in their careers.
Ben, however, was the skipper’s own flesh and blood—his sister’s child. He couldn’t face that sister (she was a widow) if he brought Ben back to New Bedford a cripple for life. And the whale had certainly smashed him up badly.
“Clint Webb,” he said to me, in a most serious tone, when he had made his examination of the poor fellow, “we are in a bad hole. It’ll take a week o’ fair weather for the carpenter to make us all tight again—and we ain’t even sure of the weather. Then, there’s the three whales alongside. We can’t throw them away. The crew would have cause to complain. But this boy ought to have doctor’s care.”
I agreed with him, but had nothing to offer.
“I couldn’t sail for the Plate now,” he ruminated, “if I wanted to. Repairs of the ship must come before repairs of the boy. Webb! it’s a good season, and the winds are fair. Would you make an attempt to get Ben to Buenos Ayres in that sloop of yours?”
“In a minute!” I declared, quickly, for the suggestion went hand in hand with the desire I had been milling in my mind for days.
“I’ll mark you a chart. You can’t miss of it. Anyhow, you’ll hit land if you keep on going. There are fine hospitals at Buenos Ayres. I’d feel more as though I’d done my duty by Ben if I got him there. I’ll find you a man to go along. Two of you can work that sloop prettily.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” I agreed.