The pilot a tale of the sea |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. | CHAPTER XVII. |
| 18. |
 | CHAPTER XVII. The pilot |  |
17. CHAPTER XVII.
Very like a whale.”
Shakspeare.
Notwithstanding the object of their expedition
was of a public nature, the feelings which
had induced both Griffith and Barnstable to accompany
the pilot, with so much willingness, it
will easily be seen, were entirely personal. The
short intercourse that he had maintained with his
associates, enabled the mysterious leader of their
party to understand the characters of his two
principal officers so thoroughly, as to induce him,
when he landed, with the purpose of reconnoitring
to ascertain whether the objects of his pursuit
still held their determination to assemble at
the appointed hour, to choose Griffith and Manual
as his only associates, leaving Barnstable in command
of his own vessel, to await their return, and
to cover their retreat. A good deal of argument,
and some little of the authority of his superior
officer, was necessary to make Barnstable
quietly acquiesce in this arrangement; but as his
good sense told him that nothing should be unnecessarily
hazarded, until the moment to strike
the final blow had arrived, he became gradually
Griffith to reconnoitre the abbey at the same
time they were reconnoitring — house. It
was the strong desire of the latter to comply with
this injunction, which carried them a little out of
their proper path, and led to the consequences
that we have partly related. The evening of that
day was the time when the pilot intended to
complete his enterprise, thinking to entrap his
game while enjoying the festivities that usually succeeded
their sports, and an early hour in the morning
was appointed when Barnstable should appear
at the nearest point to the abbey, to take off his
countrymen, in order that they might be as little
as possible subjected to the gaze of their enemies,
by daylight. If they failed to arrive at the appointed
time, his instructions were, to return to
his schooner, which lay snugly embayed in a
secret and retired haven, that but few ever approached,
either by land or water.
While the young cornet still continued gazing
at the whale-boat, (for it was the party from the
schooner that he saw,) the hour had expired for the
appearance of Griffith and his companions, and
Barnstable reluctantly determined to comply with
the letter of his instructions, and to leave them
to their own sagacity and skill to regain the Ariel.
The boat had been suffered to ride in the edge of
the surf, since the appearance of the sun, and the
eyes of her crew were kept anxiously fixed on
the cliffs, though in vain, to discover the signal
that was to call them to the place of landing.
After looking at his watch for the twentieth time,
and as often casting glances of uneasy dissatisfaction
towards the shore, the lieutenant exclaimed—
“A charming prospect, this, Master Coffin,
but rather too much poetry in it for your taste; I
consistency than mud!”
“I was born on the waters, sir,” returned the
cockswain, from his snug abode, where he was
disposed with his usual economy of room, “and
it's according to all things for a man to love his
natyve soil. I'll not deny, Captain Barnstable,
but I would rather drop my anchor on a bottom
that won't broom a keel, but, at the same time, I
harbour no great malice against dry land.”
“I shall never forgive it, myself, if any accident
has befallen Griffith, in this excursion,” rejoined
the lieutenant; “his pilot may be a better
man on the water than on terra firma, long
Tom.”
The cockswain turned his solemn visage, with
an extraordinary meaning, towards his commander,
before he replied—
“For as long a time as I've followed the waters,
sir, and that has been ever since I've drawn
my rations, seeing that I was born while the boat
was crossing Nantucket shoals, I've never known
a pilot come off in greater need, than the one we
fell in with, when we made that stretch or two on
the land, in the dog-watch of yesterday.”
“Ay! the fellow has played his part like a
man; the occasion was great, and it seems that
he was quite equal to his work.”
“The frigate's people tell me, sir, that he handled
the ship like a top,” continued the cockswain;
“but she is a ship that is a natural inimy
of the bottom!”
“Can you say as much for this boat, Master
Coffin?” cried Barnstable; “keep her out of the
surf, or you'll have us rolling in upon the beach,
presently, like an empty water-cask; you must
remember that we cannot all wade, like yourself,
in two-fathom-water.”
The cockswain cast a cool glance at the crests
of foam that were breaking over the tops of the
billows, within a few yards of where their boat
was riding, and called aloud to his men—
“Pull a stroke or two; away with her into
dark water.”
The drop of the oars resembled the movements
of a nice machine, and the light boat
skimmed along the water like a duck, that approaches
to the very brink of some imminent
danger, and then avoids it, at the most critical
moment, apparently without an effort. While
this necessary movement was making, Barnstable
arose, and surveyed the cliffs, with keen eyes,
and then turning once more in disappointment
from his search, he said—
“Pull more from the land, and let her run
down, at an easy stroke, to the schooner. Keep
a look-out at the cliffs, boys; it is possible that
they are stowed in some of the holes in the rocks,
for it's no daylight business they are on.”
The order was promptly obeyed, and they had
glided along for near a mile, in this manner, in
the most profound silence, when suddenly the
stillness was broken by a heavy rush of air, and
a dash of the water, seemingly at no great distance
from them.
“By heaven, Tom,” cried Barnstable, starting,
“there is the blow of a whale.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain, with
undisturbed composure; “here is his spout, not
half a mile to seaward; the easterly gale has
driven the creater to leeward, and he begins to
find himself in shoal water. He's been sleeping,
while he should have been working to windward!”
“The fellow takes it coolly, too! he's in no
hurry to get an offing!”
“I rather conclude, sir,” said the cockswain
rolling over his tobacco in his mouth, very composedly,
while his little sunken eyes began to twinkle
with pleasure at the sight, “the gentleman
has lost his reckoning, and don't know which
way to head, to take himself back into blue
water.”
“ 'Tis a fin-back!” exclaimed the lieutenant;
“he will soon make head-way, and be off.”
“No, sir, 'tis a right whale,” answered Tom;
“I saw his spout; he threw up a pair of as pretty
rainbows as a Christian would wish to look at.
He's a raal oil-butt, that fellow!”
Barnstable laughed, turned himself away from
the tempting sight, and tried to look at the cliffs;
and then unconsciously bent his longing eyes
again on the sluggish animal, who was throwing
his huge carcass, at times, for many feet from the
water, in idle gambols. The temptation for
sport, and the recollection of his early habits, at
length prevailed over his anxiety in behalf of his
friends, and the young officer inquired of his
cockswain—
“Is there any whale-line in the boat, to make
fast to that harpoon which you bear about with
you in fair weather or foul?”
“I never trust the boat from the schooner
without part of a shot, sir,” returned the cockswain;
“there is something nateral in the sight
of a tub to my old eyes.”
Barnstable looked at his watch, and again at
the cliffs, when he exclaimed, in joyous tones—
“Give strong way, my hearties! There seems
nothing better to be done; let us have a stroke of
a harpoon at that impudent rascal.”
The men shouted spontaneously, and the old
cockswain suffered his solemn visage to relax into
a small laugh, while the whale-boat sprung forward
few minutes they were pulling towards their
game, long Tom arose from his crouching attitude
in the stern-sheets, and transferred his huge
frame to the bows of the boat, where he made
such preparations to strike the whale as the occasion
required. The tub, containing about half of
a whale-line, was placed at the feet of Barnstable,
who had been preparing an oar to steer with,
in place of the rudder, which was unshipped, in
order that, if necessary, the boat might be whirled
round, when not advancing.
Their approach was utterly unnoticed by the
monster of the deep, who continued to amuse
himself with throwing the water, in two circular
spouts, high into the air, occasionally flourishing
the broad flukes of his tail with a graceful but terrific
force, until the hardy seamen were within a
few hundred feet of him, when he suddenly cast
his head downward, and, without an apparent
effort, reared his immense body for many feet
above the water, waving his tail violently, and
producing a whizzing noise, that sounded like
the rushing of winds.
The cockswain stood erect, poising his harpoon,
ready for the blow; but when he beheld
the creature assume this formidable attitude, he
waved his hand to his commander, who instantly
signed to his men to cease rowing. In this situation
the sportsmen rested a few moments, while the
whale struck several blows on the water, in rapid
succession, the noise of which re-echoed along
the cliffs, like the hollow reports of so many cannon.
After this wanton exhibition of his terrible
strength, the monster sunk again into his native
element, and slowly disappeared from the eyes of
his pursuers.
“Which way did he head, Tom?” cried Barnstable,
the moment the whale was out of sight.
“Pretty much up and down, sir,” returned the
cockswain, whose eye was gradually brightening
with the excitement of the sport; “he'll soon
run his nose against the bottom, if he stands long
on that course, and will be glad to get another
snuff of pure air; send her a few fathoms to
starboard, sir, and I promise we shall not be out
of his track.”
The conjecture of the experienced old seaman
proved true, for, in a few minutes, the water
broke near them, and another spout was cast into
the air, when the huge animal rushed, for half his
length, in the same direction, and fell on the
sea, with a turbulence and foam equal to that
which is produced by the launching of a vessel,
for the first time, into its proper element. After
this evolution, the whale rolled heavily, and
seemed to rest from further efforts.
His slightest movements were closely watched
by Barnstable and his cockswain, and when he
was in a state of comparative rest, the former
gave a signal to his crew, to ply their oars once
more. A few long and vigorous strokes sent the
boat directly up to the broadside of the whale,
with its bows pointing towards one of the fins,
which was, at times, as the animal yielded sluggishly
to the action of the waves, exposed to
view. The cockswain poised his harpoon, with
much precision, and then darted it from him with
a violence that buried the iron in the blubber of
their foe. The instant the blow was made, long
Tom shouted, with singular earnestness—
“Starn all!”
“Stern all!” echoed Barnstable; when the
obedient seamen, by united efforts, forced the
boat in a backward direction, beyond the reach of
any blow from their formidable antagonist. The
alarmed animal, however, meditated no such resistance;
ignorant of his own power, and of the
flight. One moment of stupid surprise succeeded
the entrance of the iron, when he cast his huge
tail into the air, with a violence that threw the
sea around him into increased commotion, and
then disappeared, with the quickness of lightning,
amid a cloud of foam.
“Snub him!” shouted Barnstable; “hold on,
Tom; he rises already.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the composed cockswain,
seizing the line, which was running out of
the boat with a velocity that rendered such a manœuvre
rather hazardous, and causing it to yield
more gradually round the large loggerhead that
was placed in the bows of the boat for that purpose.
Presently the line stretched forward, and,
rising to the surface, with tremulous vibrations, it
indicated the direction in which the animal might
be expected to re-appear. Barnstable had cast
the bows of the boat towards that point, before
the terrified and wounded victim rose once more
to the surface, whose time was, however, no longer
wasted in his sports, but who cast the waters
aside, as he forced his way, with prodigious velocity,
along their surface. The boat was dragged
violently in his wake, and cut through the billows
with a terrific rapidity, that, at moments, appeared
to bury the slight fabric in the ocean.
When long Tom beheld his victim throwing his
spouts on high again, he pointed with exultation
to the jetting fluid, which was streaked with the
deep red of blood, and cried—
“Ay! I've touched the fellow's life! it must be
more than two foot of blubber that stops my iron
from reaching the life of any whale that ever
sculled the ocean!”
“I believe you have saved yourself the trouble
of using the bayonet you have rigged for a
the sport with all the ardour of one whose youth
had been chiefly passed in such pursuits; “feel
your line, Master Coffin; can we haul alongside
of our enemy? I like not the course he is steering,
as he tows us from the schooner.”
“'Tis the creater's way, sir,” said the cockswain;
“you know they need the air in their
nostrils, when they run, the same as a man; but
lay hold, boys, and let us haul up to him.”
The seamen now seized the whale-line, and
slowly drew their boat to within a few feet of the
tail of the fish, whose progress became sensibly
less rapid, as he grew weak with the loss of blood.
In a few minutes he stopped running, and appeared
to roll uneasily on the water, as if suffering
the agony of death.
“Shall we pull in, and finish him, Tom?” cried
Barnstable; “a few sets from your bayonet
would do it.”
The cockswain stood examining his game, with
cool discretion, and replied to this interrogatory—
“No, sir, no—he's going into his flurry;
there's no occasion for disgracing ourselves by
using a soldier's weapon in taking a whale.
Starn off, sir, starn off! the creater's in his
flurry!”
The warning of the prudent cockswain was
promptly obeyed, and the boat cautiously drew
off to a distance, leaving to the animal a clear
space, while under its dying agonies. From a
state of perfect rest, the terrible monster threw its
tail on high, as when in sport, but its blows were
trebled in rapidity and violence, till all was hid
from view by a pyramid of foam, that was deeply
died with blood. The roarings of the fish were
like the bellowings of a herd of bulls, and to one
who was ignorant of the fact, it would have appeared
in deadly combat, behind the bloody mist that
obstructed the view. Gradually, these effects
subsided, and when the discoloured water again
settled down to the long and regular swell of the
ocean, the fish was seen, exhausted, and yielding
passively to its fate. As life departed, the enormous
black mass rolled to one side, and when
the white and glistening skin of the belly became
apparent, the seamen well knew that their victory
was achieved.
“What's to be done now,” said Barnstable, as
he stood and gazed with a diminished excitement
at their victim; “he will yield no food, and his
carcass will probably drift to land, and furnish
our enemies with the oil.”
“If I had but that creater in Boston Bay,”
said the cockswain, “it would prove the making
of me; but such is my luck for ever! Pull up,
at any rate, and let me get my harpoon and line—
the English shall never get them while old Tom
Coffin can blow.”
“Don't speak too fast,” said the strokesman
of the boat; “whether he gets your iron or not,
here he comes in chase!”
“What mean you, fellow?” cried Barnstable.
“Captain Barnstable can look for himself,”
returned the seaman, “and tell whether I speak
truth.”
The young sailor turned, and saw the Alacrity,
bearing down before the wind, with all her sails
set, as she rounded a headland, but a short half
league to windward of the place where the boat
lay.
“Pass that glass to me,” said the captain with
steady composure. “This promises us work in
one of two ways; if she be armed, it has become
carry her.”
A very brief survey made the experienced officer
acquainted with the true character of the vessel
in sight; and, replacing the glass with much
coolness, he said,
“That fellow shows long arms, and ten teeth,
beside King George's pennant from his top-mast-head.
Now, my lads, you are to pull for your
lives; for whatever may be the notions of Master
Coffin on the subject of his harpoon, I have no
inclination to have my arms pinioned by John
Bull, though his majesty himself put on the
irons.”
The men well understood the manner and meaning
of their commander; and, throwing aside
their coats, they applied themselves in earnest to
their task. For half an hour a profound silence
reigned in the boat, which made an amazing progress.
But many circumstances conspired to aid
the cutter; she had a fine breeze, with smooth
water, and a strong tide in her favour; and, at
the expiration of the time we have mentioned, it
was but too apparent that the distance between
the pursued and pursuers was lessened nearly
half. Barnstable preserved his steady countenance,
but there was an expression of care gathering
around his dark brow, which indicated that
he saw the increasing danger of their situation.
“That fellow has long legs, Master Coffin,”
he said, in a cheerful tone; “your whale-line
must go overboard, and the fifth oar must be
handled by your delicate hands.”
Tom arose from his seat, and proceeding forward,
he cast the tub and its contents together
into the sea, when he seated himself at the bow
oar, and bent his athletic frame with amazing
vigour to the task.
“Ah! there is much of your philosophy in
that stroke, long Tom,” cried his commander;
“keep it up, boys, and if we gain nothing else, we
shall at least gain time for deliberation. Come,
Master Coffin, what think you; we have three resources
before us, let us hear which is your choice:
first, we can turn and fight and be sunk; secondly,
we can pull to the land, and endeavour to make
good our retreat to the schooner in that manner;
and, thirdly, we can head to the shore, and possibly
by running under the guns of that fellow,
get the wind of him, and keep the air in our nostrils,
after the manner of the whale. Damn the
whale! but for the tow the black rascal gave us, we
should have been out of sight of this rover!”
“If we fight,” said Tom, with quite as much
composure as his commander manifested, “we
shall be taken or sunk; if we land, sir, I shall
be taken for one man, as I never could make any
headway on dry ground; and if we try to get
the wind of him by pulling under the cliffs, we
shall be cut off by a parcel of lubbers that I can
see running along their edges, hoping, I dare
say, that they shall be able to get a skulking shot
at a boat's crew of honest seafaring men.”
“You speak with as much truth as philosophy,
Tom,” said Barnstable, who saw his slender
hopes of success curtailed, by the open appearance
of the horse and foot on the cliffs. “These
Englishmen have not slept the last night, and I
fear Griffith and Manual will fare but badly.
That fellow brings a cap full of wind down with
him—'tis just his play, and he walks like a race-horse.
Ha! he begins to be in earnest!”
While Barnstable was speaking, a column of
white smoke was seen issuing from the bows of
the cutter, and as the report of a cannon was
wafted to their ears, the shot was seen skipping
and flying to a considerable distance beyond them.
The seamen cast cursory glances in the direction
of the passing ball, but it produced no manifest
effect in either their conduct or appearance. The
cockswain, who scanned its range with an eye of
more practice than the rest, observed, “That's
a lively piece for its metal, and it speaks with a
good clear voice; but if they hear it aboard the
Ariel, the man who fired it will be sorry it wasn't
born dumb.”
“You are the prince of philosophers, Master
Coffin!” cried Barnstable; “there is some hope
in that; let the Englishman talk away, and my
life on it, the Ariels don't believe it is thunder;
hand me a musket—I'll draw another shot.”
The piece was given to Barnstable, who discharged
it several times, as if to taunt their enemies,
and the scheme was completely successful.
Goaded by the insults, the cutter discharged gun
after gun at the little boat, throwing the shot
frequently so near as to wet her crew with the
spray, but without injuring them in the least.
The failure of these attempts to injure them, excited
the mirth of the reckless seamen, instead
of creating any alarm; and whenever a shot
came nearer than common, the cockswain would
utter some such expression as—
“A ground swell, a long shot, and a small object,
make a clean target;” or, “A man must
squint straight to hit a boat.”
As, notwithstanding their unsuccessful gunnery,
the cutter was constantly gaining on the
whale-boat, there was a prospect of a speedy
termination of the chase, when the report of a
cannon was thrown back like an echo from
one of the Englishman's discharges, and Barnstable
and his companions had the pleasure of
bay where she had passed the night, with the
smoke of the gun of defiance curling above her
taper masts.
A loud and simultaneous shout of rapture was
given by the lieutenant and all his boat's-crew,
at this cheering sight, while the cutter took in all
her light sails, and, as she hauled up on a wind,
she fired a whole broadside at the successful fugitives.
Many stands of grape, with several round
shot, flew by the boat, and fell upon the water,
near them, raising a cloud of foam, but without
doing any injury.
“She dies in a flurry,” said Tom, casting his
eyes at the little vortex into which the boat was
then entering.
“If her commander be a true man,” cried
Barnstable, “he'll not leave us on so short an
acquaintance. Give way, my souls! give way!
I would see more of this loquacious cruiser.”
The temptation for exertion was great, and it
was not disregarded by the men; in a few minutes
the whale-boat reached the schooner, when
the crew of the latter received their commander
and his companions with shouts and cheers that
rung across the waters, and reached the ears of the
disappointed spectators on the verge of the cliffs.
| CHAPTER XVII. The pilot | |