"Bill-fish!"
"Whereaway?" asked the mate.
"Little on weather bow," said Manoel. "He come this way. Chase that skeepshack."
"O, I see him!" said Father Grafton. "Give me an iron here! Never mind, here's the porpoise-iron, all rigged! Get another iron, Blacksmith, and look out for him!"
The bonitas had taken alarm, and were darting here and there, and leaping into the air to escape their natural enemy, whose method of attack is to make a sudden dart at his victim and impale him upon his bill or sword, which projects in a straight line ahead of him. All the watch on deck were collected at the bow to witness the sport, and the irons were ready, if the opportunity offered, to transfix him, even as he would the bonita. Suddenly, after having paused a moment as if to make sure of his aim, he made a dart towards the ship with the speed of lightning; the wily bonita eluded him by leaping above the surface just in time, and the bill-fish disappeared in the swash under the ship's bows. Father Grafton darted at him as he flew past, but missed him; a slight jar was perceptible to us on deck, as though the ship had hit some small, hard object, and the fish rose to the surface under the fore-chains, quivering in the agony of death, his bill broken off short up to his head! No time was lost in bringing the ship to the wind, and lowering a boat; and we soon secured the fish and took him in on deck.
"How did he break his bill off so short?" I asked, innocently.
"He has run it into the ship, of course," said Father Grafton. "His bill is probably sticking in our bows under water. I hope it will caulk its own hole tight. Rig the pump there, a couple of ye, and try her."
We did so, and found we had started a small leak; at least, we found more water than usual, though it was difficult to tell immediately. A few hours hence we could judge better. The mate and I went into the forepeak with a light, and after moving a lot of wood and empty breakers, we found what we were in search of; the end of the bill, projecting full six inches through the ceiling or inside planking of the bows: the bone, bare and smooth as if polished with sand paper. Of course we could tell nothing about the leak from the inside, except that we could hear the water trickling down between the timbers. The old man came down and had a look at it and estimated it to be about three feet below the water line.
"If so," said he, "we can stop the leak ourselves in any smooth harbor where we can get her head up and trim her stern down. There is no fear of its working loose as long as the wood is new and sound round it. The leak is not a serious one, to be sure, but it is enough to annoy us all the time and make considerable work, and a kind of work, too, that no sailor is fond of. We must try, when we get in, and see what we can do with it."
It was found after a few hours' trial, that the leak was about a hundred and fifty strokes an hour. Of course, the conversation, in our hours of leisure at night, turned upon the occurrence of the day, and several instances were cited which were known to have occurred, of a character similar to this. The mate had known two or three cases of the kind, and had seen a section of timber preserved in a museum at home just as it was sawed out when the ship was repaired, the bill still in the wood and projecting both sides. The cooper, of course, had known numerous instances; in fact, his experience went to show that it was quite an ordinary thing for ships to be "stabbed," as he termed it. And as for the leak, that was a mere trifle, "hardly enough to keep her sweet," the cooper said. "Why, when I was on the Banks," said he, "in the old Harbinger, she leaked so that the pumps were going all the time, and the crew got completely worn out; and at last the old man, who was a sort of natural mechanic, invented and rigged a kind of windmill up in the maintop, that would keep both pumps in operation as long as there was any breeze."