At this moment there was a stir among the crew about the gangway, and directly after another face was added to those on the quarter-deck — it was that of the commodore, Bob's father. He had come alongside in a shore boat, without having been noticed by a single eye, so intense and universal was the interest that had fastened every gaze upon the spot where poor Bob stood trembling on the awful verge of fate. The commodore asked not a question, uttered not a syllable. He was a dark-faced, austere man, and it was thought by some of the midshipmen that he entertained but little affection for his son. However that might have been, it was certain that he treated him with precisely the same strict discipline that he did the young officers, or if there was any difference at all, it was not in favor of Bob. Some, who pretended to have studied his character closely, affirmed that he loved his boy too well to spoil him, and that, intending him for the arduous profession in which he had himself risen to fame and eminence, he, thought it would be of service to him to experience some of its privations and hardships at the outset.
The arrival of the commodore changed the direction of several eyes, which now turned on him to trace what emotions the danger of his son would occasion. But their scrutiny was foiled. By no outward sign did he show what was passing within. His eye still retained its severe expression, his brow the slight frown which it usually wore, and his lip its haughty curl. Immediately on reaching the deck, he had ordered a marine to hand him a musket, and with this stepping aft, and getting on the lookout-block, he raised it on his shoulder, and took a deliberate aim at his son, at the same time hailing him, without a trumpet, in his voice of thunder.
"Robert!" cried he, "jump! jump overboard! or I'll fire at you."
The boy seemed to hesitate, it was plain that he was tottering, for his arms were thrown out like those of one scarcely able to retain his balance. The commodore raised his voice again, and in a quicker and more energetic tone cried,
"Jump! 't is your only chance for life."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before the body was seen to leave the truck and spring out into the air. A sound, between a shriek and groan, burst from many lips.
The father spoke not — sighed not — indeed he did not seem to breathe. For a moment of intense agony a pin might have been heard to drop on deck. With a rush like that of a cannon ball, the body descended to the water, and before the waves closed over it, twenty stout fellows, among them several officers, had dived from the bulwarks. Another short period of bitter suspense ensued. It rose — he was alive! his arms were seen to move! he struck out towards the ship! — and despite the discipline of a man-of-war, three loud huzzas, an outburst of unfeigned and unrestrainable joy from the hearts of our crew of five hundred men, pealed through the air, and made the welkin ring. Till this moment, the old commodore had stood unmoved. The eyes that, glistening with pleasure, now sought his face, saw that it was ashy pale. He attempted to descend the horse-lock, but his knees bent under him; he seemed to gasp for breath, and put up his hand, as if to tear open his vest; but before he accomplished his object, he staggered forward, and would have fallen on the deck, had he not been caught by old Black Jake. He was borne into the cabin, where the surgeon attended him, whose utmost skill was required to restore his mind to its usual equability and self-command, in which he at last happily succeeded. As soon as he recovered from the dreadful shock, he sent for Bob, and had a long confidential conference with him; and it was noticed when the little fellow left the cabin that he was in tears. The next day we sent down our taunt and dashy poles, and replaced them with the stump-to'gallant-masts ; and on the third, we weighed anchor, and made sail for Gibraltar.
THE LOG OF THE ARETHUSA
William Hussey Macey
(From "There She Blows" Dillingham, N. Y. 1877)
Whaling In the Forties
I
THE next morning, having the first masthead, I was in the fore-topgallant cross-trees 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 stern, 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? 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 cross-trees), 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 f ortopmast studding-sail, 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 spy-glass in his nervous grasp.