"Cooper tells that they used to throw bricks at them to see whether they would kick, before they went on to strike them. By the way, he was spinning you a tough yarn to-night. My room door was open and I could hear most of it. What do you think about that eating whale, Blacksmith?"
"I hardly know how much of it to believe," said I. "Are there really any such whales as he tells of, sir?"
"Why, yes, now and then one; though I think the cases are very rare where whales make a deliberate attack. I have never yet seen one myself, but I have sailed with others who have. Captain Upton tells me he has seen two or three in his life, and I don't think he can be mistaken. We have all heard of the Essex affair to which the cooper alluded, and the dreadful sufferings of the crew. I remember it well, for I was cruising on Chili at that time in the Plutarch, and from the statements of the survivors, it is plain enough that that whale went to work deliberately and with malice prepense, as the lawyers would say, to destroy the ship. The cooper's yarn is, doubtless, partly true; but you know by this time, that a story loses nothing in his telling. He has, very likely, seen two or even three boats stoven by one whale, so that his romance is, like many others, 'founded on facts.'"
"Do you think he believes his own stories, sir?" I asked.
"I really can't say. It is a phenomenon that has puzzled me for many years. I don't mean in his particular case, for he is only one of a class, and I myself have sailed with two or three others who could equal him in drawing the long bow. Sensible men they were, too, in other respects, and, even remarkably free from some other vices to which seamen are addicted; but lying seemed to be constitutional with them, or else they had cultivated the habit till they had lost all control of themselves. And they seemed impervious to shame in this one particular only. You have read Peter Simple, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir," I answered. "You are thinking of Captain Kearney, sir?"
"Yes. When I first read it, I thought Marryatt had sketched a very extravagant character in Captain Kearney, but I have since become more reconciled to it, and don't think it much caricatured after all. I think that a man may contract an absorbing passion for lying as well as for strong drink, and be ready to go all lengths to gratify it. We see every day instances of men, with a thousand noble qualities, who are slaves to liquor, and seem to have lost all self-control in that one respect. Now the cooper is a steady, sober man and a capital fellow, aside from this singular propensity; but I firmly believe that, like Captain Kearney, he will die with a lie in his throat. How do you head, Kelly?"
"South-east, sir."
"Knocking off, eh? Well—stand by to wear ship!"
The conversation was broken off, and was not resumed again for this watch.