Frank Nelson in the Forecastle. Or, The Sportman's Club Among the Whalers

The whale was down a long time – so long that even the captain became impatient. He and the boat's crew, Frank among the rest, arose to their feet one after the other to obtain a wider view, and holding their oars in their hands, kept a bright lookout in every direction. The first mate's boat was lying about half a mile to windward, and her crew were also standing up. The Tycoon had come to directly in the path the whale was pursuing, and the third officer was at the mast-head, ready to signal to the boat's crews if the whale arose beyond the range of their vision. Frank's eyes were everywhere, and at last something induced him to turn them into the water close alongside the boat. He saw something there – an immense dark-blue object, which contrasted plainly with the paler blue of the water. He looked again, and then glanced into the water on the opposite side of the boat to make sure that his eyes had not deceived him. The sea on that side was all the same color, and that proved that there was something under the boat. He nudged Lucas with his elbow and pointed to it. The old sailor looked, and instantly every particle of color fled from his face. But he had nerve, if he was frightened, plenty of it, too, and it showed itself in the firm grasp he laid upon his harpoon. The time for action had arrived.

"He's coming," thought Frank, while the oar he held in his grasp seemed to turn into lead, so heavy did it feel to his weakened arm. "I always supposed a whale was black."

The boat header's action attracted the attention of the captain, who, following the direction of his gaze gave a sudden start and waved his hand to the crew. The men quickly seated themselves and dropped their oars softly in the row-locks. The temptation to look over his shoulder was almost irresistible, but fearing that if he did, his courage, which was rapidly oozing out at the ends of his fingers, would give away altogether, Frank resolutely controlled himself and kept his eyes fixed on the captain's face.

"There he is," cried the skipper, a moment afterward. "Throw it at him and go overboard if you miss him."

The old sailor obeyed the order to the very letter. He threw his harpoon, missed his object and went overboard. Whether it was for the reason that the boat was unsteady, or because the seaman was too badly frightened to stand firmly on his feet, or because his hand had lost its skill during the years that had passed since he struck his last whale, it is hard to tell. Perhaps all these things combined operated to bring about the events that followed. At any rate the iron went wild and the old boatswain's mate turned a complete back somersault and disappeared over the side. He rose immediately, however, and Frank catching sight of him as a wave carried him past the boat, promptly thrust his oar out to him.

The captain was almost beside himself with fury. He did not act or talk quite so much like an affectionate father as he did a short time before. He tore off his hat, trampled it under his feet and shook all over with rage. "He missed him as sure as I'm a sinner," he sputtered, hardly able to speak plainly. "If I had him aboard the ship I would trice him up for a week. Let the fool go," he roared with a long string of heavy adjectives, as Frank tried to place the blade of his oar in the old sailor's grasp. "A man that'll get up on his legs and tumble overboard while the boat is standing still, is of no use aboard a vessel of mine; so let him go down among the sharks, where he belongs. We're well rid of – Stern all! Stern for your lives! Well done, my son. You've been in this business before, and you are my boat-header from this day out."

The change in the captain's tone was brought about by an action on Frank's part that was unexpected, even to himself. He scarcely knew he did it until after it was done. Lucas, having missed his first throw and gone overboard, had no chance for a second attempt, and unless somebody took his place on the instant, the game was likely, if he did not escape altogether, to lead them a long, hard race before they could come up with him again. It required an emergency to show what Frank was made of. He never waited to take a second thought, but throwing his oar to the boatswain's mate – he knew it would keep him afloat until the boat could pick him up – he jumped to his feet, catching up the extra harpoon as he arose.

When his face was turned toward the bow of the boat, Frank saw a sight that was well calculated to shake stronger nerves than his – a sperm whale coming up on a breach almost within an oar's length of him. His huge bulk was shooting up into the air, and he did not even make a ripple in the water as he arose. But when he fell on his side, as he did a moment later, he created something more than a ripple. He raised waves that threatened to swamp the boat, and made a noise that would have given Frank some idea of the immense weight of the monster, if he had not been too highly excited and alarmed to have any ideas at all.

As the whale fell into the water – fortunately he fell away from the boat – Frank's harpoon was launched into the air, and being thrown with all the force his sinewy arms could give it, and flying true to its aim, was buried to the socket in the side of the whale. The next instant the young harpooner was thrown flat among the thwarts by the sudden start backward which the crew gave the boat in obedience to the captain's order "Stern all!" He heard something whistling through the air, and looked up just in time to see the whale's flukes disappearing in a pile of foam. How he opened his eyes at the sight of them! They would have measured more feet across than the boat measured in length. The whale gave the water an angry slap, raising a sea that would have filled the boat had not the bow been promptly brought around toward it, and then started down into the depths at the rate of a mile in six minutes, the line fairly smoking as it whizzed through the lead-lined groove. Frank held his breath while he gazed at it. It looked like a streak of blue flame, so swiftly did it run out. If it caught on anything, the boat and all her crew would be a hundred feet under water in an instant's time.

The young harpooner did not hear any of the words of praise and promises of reward which the delighted skipper shouted at him. He did not hear anything but the hissing of the line as it ran through the groove in the bow. He lay on the bottom perfectly stupefied, until he was aroused by the touch of somebody's hand.

When the captain gave the order to "Stern all," the crew sent the boat within reach of Lucas, who laid hold of the gunwale, and worked his way along to the bow, where he belonged. Attracting Frank's attention by a pull at his trowsers, he was hauled into the boat, and took his seat, looking not a little crestfallen. He caught up a hatchet lying near, and held it in his hand in readiness to cut the line in case it fouled while running out. Frank also seated himself, and then began to think about what he had done. No one in the boat could have been more surprised at it.

"I don't want any more of this," said he, mentally. "It is just awful. I can't stand it. While that fellow was shooting up toward the clouds he looked like a church-steeple turned wrong end up. He must be a hundred and fifty feet long – perhaps more. Who would have thought that I had courage enough to send that harpoon at him?"

Here Frank looked over his shoulder as if to satisfy himself that he had really performed the feat. There could be no mistake about it. The line was still running out, and Lucas was watching it while hauling in the harpoon with which he had missed the whale.

"I believe I did do it," thought Frank. "He is black after all. It was the water that made him look so blue. I wouldn't do it again to be made owner of the finest fleet of ships that ever floated!"

"Nelson," said the captain, and now that Frank's mind was settled a little he was able to pay attention to him, "whatever I've got that you want, just ask for it and it is yours. Don't be bashful or stand on ceremony with your Daddy Barclay. Take a big bite if you want to."

"I have only one favor to ask, captain," replied Frank, suddenly tempted to strike while the iron was hot, although he knew it would be quite useless, "and that is – "

"Well, slack away lively, and let it come out on the run," said the captain, as Frank hesitated a moment, wondering how he could word the request so that the skipper would not get angry at him. "Speak it out."

"I should be greatly obliged if you would set me and the two men who were shanghaied with me, ashore at the first port we make," said Frank. "We shall use the right the law gives us, and ask to see the consul as soon as we get there."

Frank's only motive in saying this was to let the captain know that he understood the law applying to the rights of seamen; and he said it at that time because he did not know that he would ever have another chance, this being the first opportunity he had ever had to exchange a word with the master of the Tycoon. If there is anything an officer thoroughly detests it is a "sea lawyer" among his crew. One of these gentry will keep a ship's company in hot water from the time the voyage begins until it is ended; and his presence acts as a restraint upon the captain and his mates, who, if they are disposed to be tyrannical, expect to escape the consequences through the sailor's ignorance of their rights. Frank knew this, and he was in hopes that if he let the captain see that he knew what his privileges were, and that he intended to insist on having them, the skipper would be glad to get rid of him with as little delay as possible.

The master of the Tycoon had not a word to say in reply to this request, but the look he gave Frank satisfied the latter that if he had not spoken at the right time to further his own interests, he had spoken at the right time to make the captain angry. He did not offer Frank any more rewards after that.

The line continued to run out with great rapidity for a few minutes, then the speed gradually decreased until it remained motionless, and the actions of the captain and his crew indicated that the whale was soon expected to make his appearance at the surface again. He came very speedily, and much too close to the boat for the comfort and safety of its crew. Seen through Frank's frightened eyes, his head looked like a small mountain rising out of the water. His mouth was wide open, showing a milk-white cavity large enough to take in the boat and all its crew, and Frank gathered from something Lucas said that he was ugly and had made up his mind to do some mischief. The sequel proved that the old sailor was right. The monster began operations at once by striking out with his long, sword-like jaw, which to Frank's great amazement he worked sideways, instead of up and down, and followed it up with a tremendous sweep of his tail that, had he succeeded in planting the blow where he wanted it, would have made an end of his enemies in a hurry. But both these dangers were escaped. His jaw just touched the bow of the boat, and the blow from his flukes was avoided by the vigilance of the captain and the prompt obedience of the crew, who quickly backed the boat out of his reach. Apparently satisfied with the demonstrations he had made, the whale got under way and made off at an astonishing rate of speed, the harpoon which Frank had planted still fast in his side.

The bow-oarsman now had a duty to perform, and he set about it without waiting for orders. It was to overhaul the line and draw the boat up alongside the whale, so that the captain, who stood ready to change places with the harpooner, could use his lance. He rapidly drew in the line, taking care to lay it down clear of everything, so that it would not kink or get foul in case the whale sounded again, and soon had the slack all in. Then he felt a strain upon it, and an instant afterward the line was whipped out of the water with such force that it was drawn as tight as a bow-string, and the spray flew from it in a perfect shower.

"Hold fast to it, my son," yelled the captain. "Keep every inch you get, and get every inch you can. We'll have a sleigh-ride now, and such a one as landsmen know nothing about."

For a moment the strain was fearful, and Frank's power of muscle was tested to the utmost. It seemed to him that if the harpoon did not draw or the line break, his arms would be pulled off. Letting go was something he did not think of; but he knew he could not retain his hold much longer, so in spite of the old mate's warning gestures, he passed a bight of the line around a thwart and held it there. By this time the boat began to move, and the strain was somewhat lessened.

Now began a novel ride, which Frank thought he could have enjoyed if he had only had leisure to give his attention to it. A whale can move at tremendous speed for a short distance, and this one went at such a rate that the boat buried her bow in the waves, and rolled back great masses of foam, which, spreading out over the surface of the water, gave it the appearance of a bank of snow. Perhaps it was this that first caused the sailors to call a ride of this kind a sleigh-ride. But Frank had no time to see what was going on around him. He had work to perform; and it was work to haul a heavy boat containing six men through the waves against such resistance as the whale created by the high rate of speed he kept up. The line was wet and slippery, and Frank's hands, which he had fondly hoped were pretty well hardened by this time, soon began to feel the effects of it.

In the first lesson he received while manœuvring about the "dummy whale," Frank had been instructed how to adjust the line to make the boat move side by side with a running whale and at a short distance from it, and he struggled hard to bring the boat in that position; but the line came in very slowly, and sometimes when he was almost on the point of accomplishing his object, an unusually large wave striking the bow or a sudden spurt on the part of the frantic beast in front, would tear the line from his hands in spite of all he could do to prevent it.

At length, after Frank had worked his best for nearly an hour without once pausing for breath, and the line had been drawn through his hands for the third time, the captain's small stock of patience was all exhausted, and he began to relieve his mind by uttering heavy oaths. "Coward!" he yelled, stamping his feet as if he were trying to knock a hole through the bottom of the boat. "If you are afraid to put me alongside that whale, jump overboard and give place to a better man. You're fixing your back for a rope's end as soon as you get aboard the ship!"

Frank and the old boatswain's mate exchanged quick glances, one elevating his eye-brows, and the other drawing his down. The first meant: "If he tries it will you sing out?" and Frank by his answering scowl meant: "I will." Not a word was passed, but each understood the other perfectly.

CHAPTER XI

CUTTING IN AND TRYING OUT

THE high-spirited Frank, smarting under a sense of injustice, and hardly able to bear the pain occasioned by his lacerated hands, suddenly became very reckless. The captain had no excuse for talking to him in that style after what he had done. A coward would not have been likely to take a defeated harpooner's place and plunge an iron into the first whale he had ever seen, and neither would he have worked as hard as Frank did to bring the boat into position; and that he did work, the crimson stains his hands left on the rope abundantly proved.

"I have had this boat alongside that whale three times," said Frank, to himself, "and if I get her there again she'll stay, unless something breaks. I'll make all fast; and if the whale goes down and takes us to the bottom with him, it can't be helped. I'll see who will be the first to act like a coward, the captain or I."

Had Frank carried this reckless resolve into execution, and had the whale sounded as soon as the line was made fast, the boat would not have been emptied of her crew more quickly than she was a moment later. The whale threw his flukes about in the most spiteful manner, but finding that he could not reach the boat with them, he gave signs of a change of tactics which created a panic among all the crew except Frank and the old boatswain's mate. Frank was not frightened because he did not understand them – in his case ignorance was bliss – but the sailor did, and he did not turn white this time either. He was about to be given an opportunity to make amends for his previous defeat, and he was ready to improve it.

"He's going to 'mill,'" said he in a low tone as he picked up his harpoon. "Don't slack an inch till I get a dart at him."

Before Frank could ask an explanation the whale raised his huge head from the water, dropped his jaw at right angles with his body and turning as quickly as a flash, started off across the course he had been pursuing. Frank, who was sitting with face forward so that he had a fair view of the whale and could see every move he made, stared at him in amazement; and while awaiting the issue of events with a calmness that surprised himself, eagerly responded to the harpooner's entreaty to haul in faster, although he believed that certain death awaited him. It seemed as if the boat would run squarely into the whale's mouth.

"Slack that line!" roared the captain, suddenly stopping his swearing and speaking in an imploring tone of voice. "Slack that line, and may Heaven have mercy on us! Stern all, for life!"

Frank dropped the line, which seemed like a coal of fire in his hands, and the men laid out their strength on the oars till they fairly snapped. The first stroke stopped the boat's headway and the second started her on the back track, but not in time to escape the danger that threatened her. Before Lucas could throw his harpoon the whale's jaw swept around like a scythe, and striking the boat in the side overturned her in an instant, smashing in the planks as if they had been pasteboard, and tumbling those of the crew who did not jump out into the water.

From the crest of a wave on which he struck, Frank turned to look at the whale and see what had become of his companions. The monster was bringing his tail into play now. With one fierce upward sweep of his huge flukes he lifted the battered boat out of the water, and the captain, who had clung to the wreck, was going up with it. The air seemed to be literally filled with pieces of planks, harpoons, ropes and lances. The crew had all escaped without injury – at least they were all able to swim, for Frank counted four frightened faces bobbing about on the waves near him. He had some idea now of the strength and ferocity a whale could display when he once set about it. He made up his mind, too, that men must be simply foolhardy to willingly follow any such business as whaling. Otherwise how could they bring themselves to engage with such a monster as this, against whose tremendous power, which he had just seen exerted with such telling effect, their strength was as nothing?

To say that Frank was frightened would not begin to tell how he felt. How helpless he was! How completely the waves baffled his mad efforts to get out of the reach of his dangerous foe, and how like straws they seemed in the path of the whale which skimmed through them as easily as a bird passes through the air! Then how frightened everybody else was, if he might judge by the pale faces he saw about him, and the frantic attempts the men made to swim away. If those who were accustomed to such scenes and such dangers were so nearly overcome with terror, it was time for a novice to show signs of fear.

"Look out, Nelson!" cried Lucas, suddenly. "Look out! He's – "

The old boatswain's mate no doubt meant to say something else, but he did not stay on top of the water long enough to say it. He ducked his head and went down like lead, making desperate struggles to go faster. Frank cast one frightened glance over his shoulder and went down too. The whale had turned again and was coming directly toward him, rolling from side to side and slashing from right to left with his jaw, describing at each stroke a circle thirty-two feet in diameter. There was no time to swim out of his reach. His only chance for life was to go below him. How Frank blessed his lucky stars at that moment that deep diving and swimming long distances under water were two of his accomplishments! He went as far down as he could, stayed under as long as he could hold his breath, and came up almost strangled. He was out of danger. The battered boat was twenty feet away and the whale a hundred feet still farther off, and moving rapidly toward the ship. The men were all clinging to the boat to keep themselves afloat, and Frank swam up and joined them.

All this while the men in the mate's boat had been doing their best with sail and oars to get near enough to the whale to take part in the fight, but without success. Now, however, they had an opportunity offered them, for the whale had doubled on his course, and if he did not take it into his head to turn again, he would pass their boat at such a distance that they would have a chance at him with their harpoons. The mate prepared for it by ordering one man to take down the sail while the rest still tugged at the oars. He did not even look toward the disabled boat or ask if the crew wanted assistance.

"These whalemen are a heartless lot," thought Frank. "If I were in command of that boat I think I should save my shipmates first; but I suppose that officer thinks we are not worth as much as the whale. Men can be had any day for the asking, and if a few of them lose their lives what's the odds? Nobody misses them. But whales are not as plenty as they used to be, and if one of them is lost it is something to be sorry for."

Frank's meditations were interrupted and his attention called from the chase by the actions of one the men near him, who suddenly began to make desperate efforts to climb into the boat. He persisted in spite of the angry orders and oaths of the skipper, who stormed and threatened to no purpose. The man was almost beside himself with fear.

"What has come over him all at once?" asked Frank, of the man at his side. "He was quiet enough a moment ago."

"He had a narrow escape from a shark once," replied the sailor, "and I guess he has just thought of it."

"Well, I wish from the bottom of my heart that he hadn't thought of it at all," said Frank, "or else that I had not asked you any questions, for I have new cause for alarm now. I wonder if a sailor can turn in any direction without finding himself confronted by some deadly peril?"

"He might if he's a merchantman, but not if he is a whaler," was the comforting reply.

"If I had thought of sharks I never could have dived under that whale," continued Frank.

"O, 'tain't time for 'em to be on hand yet; but you'll see 'em coming like a flock of sheep just as soon as that fellow begins to spout blood."

"Ay, that you will," said another. "I was hanging on to a stove boat once, just as we are now, and the sharks, I never see the beat of 'em in all my born days, come up – "

"Well, if they got hold of anybody, I don't want to know it," interrupted Frank, with a shudder. "Can't you talk about something else?"

"Take that!" shouted the captain, who was narrowly watching the chase. "And that!" he added, a moment afterward. "He's fast again, and we are sixty barrels of grease ahead."

Frank looked up to see what had called forth these exclamations from the captain, and was just in time to catch a glimpse of the mate's harpooner as he threw his second iron into the whale. He had three harpoons in him now, and Frank gathered from the remarks the men made that his capture was considered certain. He lashed the water furiously with his tail, raising an immense pile of spray and foam, and when it disappeared he was out of sight.

"Now look out for breakers," said Lucas, "for there's no knowing where he will come up, and he's ugly if he is little. We know that, don't we?"

"Little!" repeated Frank, who remembered that he had compared the beast to a church-steeple, and estimated his length at one hundred and fifty feet; "how big is he?"

"The cap'n says sixty barrels."

"I mean, how long is he?"

"O, I don't know. I never took the measure of one. I ain't a tailor."

"Did you ever know of one larger than this?"

"Many a one. I heard of one once that ran a hundred and thirty-five barrels, but I didn't see him. The biggest one I ever struck or saw struck turned out a hundred and fifteen barrels."