“Yes, I know that,” said Ben. “Father always used to say, ‘Do right, whatever comes of it.’ God will take care that good will come out of it in the end.”
Chapter Eight.
Do Right, whatever comes of it.
“Land! land!” shouted little Ben, from the foretop-masthead; for he had been out of his hammock and aloft before break of day, that he might have the best opportunity of seeing land if it was to be seen. “Yes, yes, that must be the land; those are tops of mountains covered with snow, just what Mr Martin told me might be seen before sunrise. Land! land! away on the starboard bow!” he shouted more loudly.
The officer of the watch heard him, and was soon, with his telescope slung over his shoulder, ascending the rigging. Ben pointed out the direction in which he saw the snow-capped peaks.
“You have a sharp pair of eyes, boy Hadden,” observed the officer, who was looking through his glass; “those are the Andes or Cordilleras, sure enough, though seventy miles off at least—it may be many more than that.”
Ben thought that he must indeed have a sharp pair of eyes, if he could see an object seventy miles off; yet he found that the officer was correct. All the men aloft now saw the mountains, and very soon they could be perceived by those on deck. Shortly after the sun rose, however, thin and light mists ascended, and veiled them from view. Still the ship sailed on with a fair breeze, hour after hour, and no land appeared. Ben began to fancy that he must have been mistaken. He was somewhat surprised, therefore, when he was sent for into the captain’s cabin.
“I find that you were the first to see land this morning, boy Hadden,” said the captain in a kind tone. “There is no great merit in that, but after a long passage it might be of much consequence, and I wish to reward you. You, however, rendered me a far greater service when you discovered the iceberg rounding Cape Horn. I shall not forget that. In the meantime I present you with a sovereign, to show you that I approve of your conduct on that and other occasions.”