very serious, Harry toldthem all his story from the commencement.
"Well," said the mate, "it isn't so very dreadful after all, but I thinkyou ought to see Captain Hardy at once. What say you, mates?"
"That's right," said the carpenter; "I'd go at once."
The captain was in his cabin, and kindly bade them both sit down.
Then, at the instigation of the second mate, Harry told all his storyover again.
"A plain, unvarnished tale," said Captain Hardy, when he had finished."There is truth in the lad's eyes, Mr Wilson. But tell me, youngster,why did you not explain to the mate the purpose for which you came onboard?"
"He would not let me say one single word, sir."
"True enough," said the mate, coming out of his state-room laughing."The boy is right, sir; I took him for some hand you had engaged andsent him flying for'ard."
"But look here, lad, when you heard us stamping round and heaving in theanchor, why did you not come up and speak to me? I would have put youon shore again at once."
"Oh, thank you, sir, but I didn't know. I heard music, and I thoughtyou were all dancing, and wouldn't sail till Monday, and then--I fellasleep."
"Ha! ha! ha! there will be little dancing in our heads, boy, till we'refull to the hatches with skins and blubber; then we'll dance, won't we,Wilson?"
"That we will, sir."
"Well, well, boy, it is curious. I'm half inclined to be angry, but Idaresay you couldn't help it. And I don't know what to do with you."
"Oh, I don't want wages; only just let me remain in the ship."
"Let you remain in the ship? Why, what else can I do? We'll nevertouch land again, lad, till we go back to Lerwick. Do you think I'dpitch you overboard as they did Jonah?"
"As for wages," he continued, "nobody stops in my ship that isn't paid.But tell me now, I seem to know your face--have I seen you before?"
"I saw you at Miss Mitford's, sir."
"Whew-w-w," whistled the captain, "that accounts for the milk in thecocoanut."
"She gave you some beautiful rib--"
"That'll do, boy, that'll do," cried Captain Hardy, interrupting him."Well I'll rate you as second steward, and as you say you want to learnto be a sailor you can join the second mate's watch."
"I'll have him, sir," said Wilson, briskly.
Harry's heart was too full to speak, but from that moment he determinedto do his duty and prove his gratitude.
Duty! what a sacred thing it is, and how noble the man or boy who nevershirks it, be that duty what it may!
Duty--though thy lot be lowly, God's broad arrow though art seen, Making very triflers holy, And exalting what were mean; In this thought the poor may revel, That, obeying Duty's word, Lowliness is on a level With my lady or my lord.
Captain Hardy soon found out Harry's worth. He could trust himimplicitly, for the boy was far too manly to tell a falsehood, even tohide a fault.
The worthy captain, however, seemed really astonished when the boy toldhim he was not twelve years of age.
He had guessed him at nearly sixteen.
"Never mind," he said, with a smile, "you've been growing too fast,you've been growing to the length. The cold will alter that, and you'llgrow to the breadth."
Cold? It was indeed cold, and the farther north the good ship went thecolder it got, the more fiercely blew the wind, and the higher andwilder were the seas. Harry slept in a bunk in the half-deck, and usedto amuse his mates by telling them stories, composed on the spot; he hadan excellent imagination, and on these occasions made good use of it.
The fire was kept in all the livelong night, but, notwithstanding, thebunks and the counterpane used to be thickly snowed over long beforemorning with the frozen breath of the sleepers.
The days were terribly short, and the nights dark and gloomy in theextreme.
About a week after the good ship sailed she fell in with streams, firstof wet snow, then of small pieces of ice that cannonaded against theship's side with a terrific noise.
Now the crow's nest or look-out barrel was hoisted at the main-truck.
Harry astonished the second mate, and every one who saw him, by gettingup to this giddy altitude the very second day.
The captain had been up there for hours and sang down for a cup ofcoffee.
The steward was too much of a landsman to venture, so Harry volunteered.
"_My_ sonny," said Wilson, "you'll break your neck."
"I've climbed trees as tall as that in Benbuie forest," was Harry'sreply.
The warm coffee was put in a tin bottle, and up Harry spun with it.Hand over hand he went with all the agility of a monkey.
He sat in the nest till the captain had finished. Sat delightedly too,for the sea-scape, visible all around, was splendid, and he had afeeling that he was flying in the air with no ship beneath him whatever,as happy and free as the wild sea-birds that were whirling and screamingaround him in the sky. The lovely sea-gulls, the malleys, the duskyskuas, and the snow-white sea-swallows--they charmed Harry beyondmeasure.
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But a fierce gale of wind blew from the north-east, and lying to, the_Inuita_ was drifted away off from the ice and far, far out of hercourse.
This gale continued for ten days off and on. Boats were smashed, atop-mast carried away, the bulwarks were splintered, and two poorfellows were washed overboard.
Their cries for assistance--the assistance that none could render them--were heart-rending. They were both strong swimmers, which only made thebitterness of death ten times more bitter.
But the sky cleared at last, the wind blew fair, and in ten days morethey had sighted the main pack of ice lying to the north and east of thelonely island of Jan Mayen. Named after its discoverer--rugged, rocky,and snowy--it rises boldly from the frozen sea, and after forming anumber of smaller hills, or rather mountains, shoots abruptly into theclear icy sky to a height of 6,000 feet, shaped like a cone or animmense loaf of sugar. Although volcanic fires once have gleamed fromthe lofty summit of this mountain, old King Winter now sits here alone,Vulcan has deserted him, without leaving him a spark to heat his toes.This is indeed the throne of King Winter, and looking down, his cold eyescans his icy region, stretching for many and many a mile over theGreenland sea. On this isle of desolation few have ever trod, and thefew who have visited it have no desire to return. Around its cragsflutters the snow-bird, and the ice-bear crouches in his den among itsrocks; the great black seal, the sea-horse, and the lonely walrus floataround it, or find shelter near it from the storm or tempest; butnothing else of life is ever found on its deserted and inhospitableshores.
Seals were seen on the ice the very next day, and the work ofdestruction commenced. It was a sickening scene. So thought youngHarry.
Many years ago the present writer described it in the followinglanguage:
Great is the cruelty practised during young sealing. Seldom do the mentake time to kill the creatures they catch, but set about flaying themalive, and a young seal is so much more pretty and innocent-looking thaneven a lamb. This they say they do to save time, but could they notkill so many seals first, say a thousand, and then commence to flaythose first struck, which would then be quite dead? As an experiment, Ihave seen the flayed body, red and quivering, thrown into the sea, andseen it swim with its own mother beside it. This is no exaggeration,and any sealer will tell you the same. It is strange why the sight ofblood should stimulate men to acts of cruelty; but it is none the less afact, for I have seen men on these occasions behaving with all thebrutality of wild beasts.
One could not easily fancy a scene more impressive and wild than thatwhich is presented by the crews of a few ships at work on the ice. Theincessant moaning of the innocent victims, mingled with the laugh andjoke of their murderers; the timid and affrighted, although loving lookof the mothers, so different from the earnest, blood-thirsty stare ofthe authors of their grief. Some are flaying
; some are stabbing; someare dragging the fruits of their labour towards the ships; and some aredrinking at the ship's side; but over all there is blood--blood on thedecks, blood on the bulwarks; the men's hands are steeped in it, and theblood is dripping from their clothes. The snow--the beautiful snow,which but yesterday sparkled and glittered in the sunshine, as only thesnows of Greenland can, to-day is deluged in blood. Nothing but blood,blood wherever we look! The meat which the men are eating and the glassfrom which they are drinking are bloody; and the very rudder-wheel hasbeen touched by bloody hands. But then there is joy in that bloodyscene--joy to master and joy to man; and the sight of the blood proves astimulant for still greater exertions and more cruelty.
Yes,
Harry Milvaine; Or, The Wanderings of a Wayward Boy Page 14