Читать книгу There She Blows! Or, The Log of the Arethusa - William Hussey Macy - Страница 8

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THE FIRST WHALE.

The next morning, having the first masthead, I was in the fore-topgallant crosstrees at sunrise, thinking, of course, of the five dollars' bounty all the way up the rigging. The dim outline of the peak was still visible, and the topsails of the Pandora just in sight astern, the wind still continuing moderate at W. N. W. both ships steering S. by W. As I looked astern, when I first got my footing aloft, I caught sight of something like a small puff of steam or white smoke, rising a little and blowing off on the water. Looking intently, at the same spot, after a short interval, another puff rose like the former, satisfying me, from the descriptions I had heard, that some sort of whale was there, and I instinctively shouted:

"There she blows!"

"Where away?" hailed Mr. Johnson, who was just climbing the maintopmast rigging. "O yes! I see him! sperm whale, I believe—hold on a bit till he blows again—yes—thar' sh' blo-o-ows! large sperm whale! two points off the larboard! Blo-o-ows! headed to windward!"

"How far off?" shouted Mr. Grafton, from the deck.

"Three miles! 'Ere sh' blo-o-ows!"

By this time the old man was on deck, and ready for action. "Call all hands out, Mr. Grafton! Hard a starboard, there! Stand by to brace round the yards. Cook! get your breakfast down as fast as you can. Keep the run of him, there, aloft! Maintop bowline, boat steerers! Sure it's a sperm whale, eh, Mr. Johnson? Steward! give me up the glass—I must make a cleet in the gangway for that glass soon. Muster 'em all up, Mr. Grafton, and get the lines in as fast as you can (mounting the shearpole). Sing out when we head right, Mr. Johnson! Mr. Grafton, you'll have to brace sharp up, I guess (just going over the maintop). See the Pandora, there? O yes! I see her (half way up the topmast rigging). Confound him! he's heading just right to see the whale, too! ('There goes flukes!' shouted the mulatto.) Yes! yes! I see him—just in time to see him (swinging his leg over the topmast crosstrees), a noble fan, too! a buster! Haul aboard that maintack! We must have that fellow, Mr. Johnson. Steady-y! Keep her along just full and by. We mustn't let the Pandora get him, either!"

The Arethusa bent gracefully to the breeze, as, braced sharp on the port tack, she darted through the water, as though instinctively snuffing her prey. The whale was one of those patriarchal old bulls, who are often found alone, and would probably stay down more than an hour before he would be seen again. Meantime, the two ships were rapidly nearing each other; and the Pandora's lookouts were not long in discovering that "something was up," as was evinced by her setting the main royal and foretopmast studdingsail, though they could not possibly have seen the whale yet. But the whale was apparently working slowly to windward, and the Pandora coming with a flowing sheet, all of which was much in her favor. The old man remained aloft, anxiously waiting the next rising, from time to time hailing the deck to know "what time it was?" and satisfying himself that the boats were in readiness, and breakfast served out to those who wanted it. As three quarters of an hour passed, he grew more anxious and fidgety, shifting his legs about in the cross trees, and clutching the spyglass in his nervous grasp.

"Are you all ready, Mr. Grafton?"

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate from the maintop, where he had mounted to get a look at the whale when he should rise again.

"Let them hoist and swing the boats."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"I think I saw a ripple then," said the second mate, from the topsail yard directly beneath him.

"Where?" demanded the captain.

"Four points off the lee bow."

"O! no, you didn't, he won't come there. He'll rise right ahead or a little on the weather-bow. I don't think he'll go much to windward—good gracious! see that Pandora come down! She'll be right in the suds here, directly! I think we've run far enough, eh, Mr. Grafton? Haul the mainsail up, then! and square the main yard!"

Silence for a few minutes after this evolution was performed.

"He can't be far off when he comes up again. Look at the men old Worth has got aloft there, his crosstrees swarming, and every rattlin manned.—Look sharp! all of ye! We must see that whale when he first breaks water. That helm eased down? Haul the foresail up? and let the jib-sheets flow a little more. It can't be possible that whale has been up—no, we couldn't help seeing him, some of us—I know 'twas a sperm whale. I saw his fan; besides, there's Mr. Johnson—best eyes in the ship. What time is it, there? An hour and ten minutes that whale has been down—a long-winded old dog! We shall have to wear round, I'm afraid we shall forge. Blo-o-ows! right ahead, not one mile off! Down there and lower away! Now, Mr. Grafton, work carefully—Mr. Dunham, too; if you don't strike this rising, spread your chances well, and don't crowd each other—but don't you let the Pandora get him!" The captain was by this time in the stern of his own boat. "All ready, Mr. Johnson? Where's Old Jeff at my midship oar? O, here you are, eh? You aint turned white yet—lower away! Cooper! Where's Cooper? As soon as we are all clear, wear round—Let run that davit fall?—Wear round and make a short board—haul up your tackle, boy. Keep to windward all you can, Cooper! Pull a little off the weather-bow, Mr. Grafton, and then set your sail! Haul in these gripes towing over the quarter—By thunder, there's Worth's boats all down! coming with fair wind, too! Out oars, lads."

The Pandora had luffed to and dropped her boats a mile to windward, and they were coming down before the breeze, wing-and-wing, with their paddles flashing in the sunlight, and their immense jibs guyed out on the bow-oar as studdingsails, promising to stand about an equal chance for the whale with ourselves. The larboard boat to which I belonged proved the fastest of the three, and had a little the lead. After pulling a few quiet strokes to windward, Father Grafton set his sails, and, as he gave the order to "peak the oars and take the paddles," seemed as cool and calm as when engaged in the most ordinary duty on board. There was no confusion or bustle in his boat, but with his practised eye fixed upon the huge spermaceti, he kept encouraging us in a low, dry tone, as he conned the steering oar with such skill, that he seemed to do it without effort.

"Now, lads, you face round to paddle, you can all see him. I declare, he's a noble fellow—ninety barrels under his hide, if there's a drop. Bunker, do you see that fellow? he's got a back like a ten-acre lot—paddle hard, lads—if you miss him, go right overboard yourself, and don't come up again—long and strong stroke, boys, on your paddles. See that boat coming? that's Ray, the second mate of the Pandora—three or four more spouts, and we'll have him—he's ours sure! they can't get here in time—scratch hard, boys! don't hit your paddles on the gunwale. Stand up, Bunker, and get your jibtack clear! Don't let them 'gally' you, if they shout in that boat."

"All right!" said his boatsteerer, with his eager hand resting on the iron pole. "Never fear, sir."

"Paddle hard, lads, a stroke or two. That's right, Bunker. Keep cool, my boy. Keep cool, and make sure of him."

A wild and prolonged shout rang on the air from six sturdy pairs of lungs in the Pandora's waist-boat, as Mr. Ray, seeing that he was baffled, let fly his sheets and rounded to, a ship's length to windward. It was too late, however.

"All right," said Father Grafton, in the same dry, quiet tone, as before. "Hold your hand, Bunker. Hold your hand, boy, till you're past his hump—another shoot, lads—way enough, in paddles. Now, Bunker! give it to him! Down to your oars the rest. Give him t'other one, boy! Well done! both irons to the hitches. Hold water, all! Bear a hand, now, and roll up that sail. Wet line, Tom! wet line! Where's your bucket? All ready with your sail, Bunker? Let her come then—all right. Come aft here, now, and let me get a dig at him."

The line was spinning round the loggerhead with a whizzing noise, and a smoking heat, as the huge leviathan, stung to the quick, darted down into the depths of the ocean. Bunker threw on the second round turn to check him, and jamming the bight of the line over the stern sheets, watched it carefully as it flew through his grasp; while the mate cleared his lance, and got ready to renew the attack. Every moment his anxiety increased as he kept turning his head, and looking at the tub of line, rapidly settling, as the whale ran it out. "I declare, I believe he'll take all my line. Blacksmith! pass along the drug! Check him hard, Bunker!" then, seeing the other boats near at hand, he opened his throat, and, for the first time, we learned the power of Father Grafton's lungs.

"Spring hard, Mr. Dunham! I want your line! Cast off your craft, and stand by to throw your line to me! Spring hard! Do!"

The ash sticks in the waist-boat were doing their best, as the loud "Ay, ay!" was borne back o'er the water from Dunham, while the old man could be seen in the rear of the picture, wildly straining every nerve to be "in at the death," and heaving desperately at the after oar, with his hat off, his hair flying loosely in the breeze, and his whole frame writhing with eager excitement. Our line was going, going; already there was but one flake in the tub, when the waist-boat ranged up on our quarter, and Fisher, with the coil gathered in his hand, whirled it over his head, making ready for a cast. At this instant, the strain was suddenly relieved, and the line slacked up.

"Never mind!" roared Mr. Grafton. "Hold on Fisher! All right, he's coming! Never mind your line, Mr. Dunham, he's coming up! pull ahead and get fast! Get a lance at him if you can! Haul line, us! Face round here, all of ye, and haul line! Careful, Bunker, about coiling down! He'll be up now, in a minute, haul lively!"

The waist-boat had shot ahead under a fresh impulse of her oars, and the captain came drawing up abreast of the fast boat.

"Are you well fast, Mr. Grafton?"

"Ay, ay, sir; both irons chock to the socket."

"That's the talk! Got 'most all your line, hasn't he."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, gather in as fast as you can. Spring hard, us! Spring! I want to grease a lance in that fish! There he is up!" he shouted as the tortured monster broke water, shoving his whole head out in his agony, and started to windward.

Fisher had bent on his craft again, and was about two ships' lengths from the whale when he rose.

"Haul quick, my lads!" said the mate, "and get this stray line in! There's Mr. Dunham going on, and the old man will be with him in a minute. There he brings to!" as the whale suddenly stopped short in his mad career, and lay swashing up and down, as if rallying his strength for a fresh effort.

"There's 'stand up' in the waist-boat! There he darts! Hurrah! two boats fast! Haul lively, us, and get this line in!"

The whale seemed staggered by this accumulation of cold iron in his system, and lay wallowing in the trough of the waves. It was a critical moment for him; for Mr. Dunham was getting his lance on the half-cock, ready for darting, and, as the whale suddenly "milled short round" to pass across the head of his boat, the young man saw his advantage, and cried:

"Pull ahead! Pull ahead, and we'll get a 'set' on him! Lay forward, Fisher! Lay forward hard, my lad! right on for his fin! Pull ahead! So, way enough—hold water, all;" and, driven by a strong arm, the sharp lance entered his "life," its bright shank disappearing till the pole brought it up.

"Hold her so!" said the second mate. "Way enough! just hold her so till he rises again!" as the whale hollowed his back under the sea, now crimsoned with his life-tide, and again rising, received the lance anew in his vitals; but the first "set" was enough, and the gush of clotted blood from his spiracle told how effectually it had done its work.

"There," said Father Grafton, who had just got his line gathered in, and was ready to renew the assault, "there's the red flag flying at his nose! Blacksmith, we may as well put up our lance, we sha'n't want it to-day. Well done, Mr. Dunham! Thick as tar the first lance! Hold on line, Bunker! heave on a turn!" as the whale, making a dying effort, started up to windward, passing among the Pandora's boats within easy hail.

"Give us your warp, Pitman, if you want a tow," said Bunker in passing to Mr. Ray's boatsteerer.

"Every dog has his day," growled Pitman, in reply.

"Yes. Come aboard to-morrow and I'll give you a 'scrap' for luck."

The whale went in his "flurry," and turned up under the stern of the Pandora, as she luffed to for her boats; but Captain Worth could not afford to lose the breeze long, and, by the time the last boat was on the cranes, his helm was up and his mizzen-topsail shivering. The old ship fell off to her former course, and setting her royal and studding sails, left her more fortunate consort "alone in her glory."

Captain Upton had no occasion to "grease his lance," but seeing that the work was done, and the victory won, made the best of his way on board. He made a short stretch, fetching to windward of us, and then stood along under easy sail, till Mr. Grafton, having "cut a hole" and got his line all clear for running, set a waif for the ship. She then ran down for us, and luffing to handsomely with the head yards aback, and the foretopsail on the cap, the line was "streamed," and led into the "chock." The jib being run down, and the helm lashed a-lee, so as completely to deaden the ship's way, the whale was hauled down to the ship, with the inspiring and time-honored chorus of "Cheerly, men!" the burden being led off by Old Jeff; and at ten o'clock, the monster, who when the sun rose appeared like a monarch of the deep sporting in all the consciousness of sovereign power, lay securely chained up alongside the good ship Arethusa.

"Well, Bunker," said the old man to the blushing young boatsteerer, "you plugged this fellow solid, at any rate, if you never do another. The Pandora's crew tried to gally you, didn't they?"

"Yes, sir," said Bunker, "either me or the whale, I don't know which. But they were too late with their yells."

"Well, I don't know as I can blame Mr. Ray," said the captain. "I suppose he thought, if he could gally you of the whale, he would stand as good a chance as any of us next rising, as there is no telling, with any certainty, where a gallied[1] whale will come up."

"I don't think Worth feels in very good-humor to-day," continued the old man, turning to Mr. Grafton. "I'm sure I shouldn't, if he had got this whale right under my nose. But it's our turn to crow to-day, and perhaps at another time it may be his. I was mighty afraid at one time he would take all your line before we could get to you. And when I saw the strain slack up suddenly, I was more anxious than ever, for I feared you were loose from him. But it's all right as it is. Couldn't be better—and the weather is promising for taking care of him. The new ship will get her christening now, and she will work all the better for being greased. It is too late to ship the oil home, for I shall not put back to the Western Islands now."