"Bad luck to the soaking I got?" said Farrell, as he went forward. "It's taken all the snap out o' me—and the schnapps too."
Manifold were the jokes cracked at the young Irishman's expense, after this adventure; for with seamen, as with soldiers, a miss is as good as a mile, always, and that which is almost a tragedy becomes the very ideal of a farce.
But the redoubtable Burley was effectually stripped of his teeth and claws. He was as harmless as an old blunderbuss, which after having been apparently well loaded, primed and schnapped, has flashed in the pan. The captain said nothing to indicate that he knew any thing of the liquor having been brought on board. He was not a man to say much to his crew, except in the way of necessary duty; and he probably resolved to be silent and more watchful in the future. But I overheard him telling the mate, the next night, as I stood at the wheel, that Farrell seemed a smart young fellow, and he thought he would make a slashing boatsteerer, if one should be wanted, "especially," he added, dryly, "if we could always speak a Dutchman just before we lowered."
CHAPTER IX.
"GAMMING" WITH A "HOMEWARD-BOUNDER."
When in the latitude of Cape St. Augustine, being close-hauled, with light breezes at east-south-east a ship was "raised" in the afternoon, under a cloud of light canvas, steering to the northward. As she gradually neared us, she was made out by her boats and other significant marks to be a homeward-bound whaler, and by altering her course a little, showed her intention of passing within hail and speaking us. The order was given to haul the mainsail up and square the mainyard, and the good ship, arrested in her course, seemed to sit in state, like a hostess, to receive company. The decks were cleared up, and work knocked off at an earlier hour than usual; and the slowly approaching stranger now became the centre of attraction, and the subject of much argument and speculation, each of the old hands recognizing her as some ship he knew or had sailed in, so that in half an hour, she had been christened by more names than would have fitted half the Nantucket fleet, which at that period was no inconsiderable number. Old Jeff knew it was the Colossus by something peculiar about her spritsail-yard; a very reasonable supposition, inasmuch as the Colossus was only four months from Nantucket, outward bound, while the copper, or rather the want of it, on the stranger's bottom, showed unmistakable signs of at least three years' wear and tear. The cooper was morally certain it was the Deucalion, for no other ship ever had, or possibly could have, a pair of anchor-stocks of that shape; but when reminded that she was only one year out, and her voyage probably not completed, compromised the matter by the hypothesis that the ship in sight must have spoken the Deucalion, and bought her anchor; a case which was voted to be far more possible than probable. The old man and his mates were thinking of all the ships that ought to be homeward-bound at that time, and calling her first one and then another; but the conclusion arrived at was that she must be some "outlandishman," as the islanders then termed the New London and Sag Harbor whalers, who defiled their ships with "right whale glue," rather than cruise four years exclusively for sperm.
The meeting of two ships at sea is a beautiful and imposing affair. I was deeply interested in the sight, as the stranger drew nearer and nearer. He had hauled in his studdingsails, and brailed up both courses, seeming at times to slide down to leeward on a declivity, and then to stop suddenly, as if arrested by some unseen power. The breeze was light, and the sea comparatively smooth, but I was surprised to see how considerable her rolling motion was, even under these circumstances. Rough-looking men, clad in garments of more colors than the coat of Joseph ever boasted, could be seen clustered round the bows, and stretching their heads over the bulwarks, and two or three had climbed into the waist-boat, to get a better view. The skipper, a large, dark-looking man, sat in the head of the labored quarter-boat, from time to time turning his head to speak to his helmsman, and waving his brass trumpet to enforce the order. Captain Upton, with a similar instrument, was mounted on the taffrail, his mates standing near him, a little in the background. The stillness, as the ships neared each other, was unbroken now, save by the occasional rustle of a sail aloft, or the slight washing of the water under the bows of the stranger. Some one was seen to run forward with a spyglass, and, after bringing it to bear for a moment upon our stern, to hurry aft again with a report to the strange captain. The ship appeared at this moment to be heading directly into us, as though bent on striking us amidships and running us down. Some of us, clustered at the weather rail, involuntarily began to draw back, fearing a collision; but again, at a wave of the dark man's trumpet the ship, obedient to her helm, fell slowly off, so as to pass just clear, across our stern. Silence more profound than ever.
"Who commands the Arethusa?" shouted a hoarse voice, through the brass tube.