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“3‘33 MEAN HUM

A ROP‘IAN ‘E F PBRILOUS ADVENTURE.

 var, THE CHASE a? LEVIATHAN
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BY CAPTAIN I‘VIAYNE REID,

 

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THE CHASE of LEVIATHAI‘I.

A Romance of Perilous Adventure.l

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BY CIII’I‘AIN MAYNE I'IEII).

CHAI’T III). I.
m SEARCH ot‘ FLAMINGOEQ.

To me there is no part of the \nnl‘id fraught with
greater interest than that one of the. Southern
United States called Louisiana It was there I tirst
set foot on American soil, a youthful liedgling ,just
escaped from college, full of aspirations'at'tcr Na-
ture in its wildest and most priininv.‘ freshness.

And nowhere could I have found it wilder or
fresher than in this same Louisiana. A territory of

vast extent, larger than France, with a varied surv '.

face. part forest, part prairie, both id many places
pathlcss and iin assable by reason of there being
pure swamp-lam , where. horse may not set hoof,
nor man foot: a lush, vigorous Vegetation, almost
tropical in character. comprising indigenous treesof
more than a hundred species, among them the.
_rau«.l lauri l-like magnolia, with its leaves that look
as if varnished, and flowers having the diameter of
a dinner-plate; the pahnctto, with fan-shaped
fronds; the amber~distiding gum and the dark, dc.-
ciduous cypress—this often silvery-white from its
drapery of the hair-like parasite known as “ Spanish
moss," or “ old man‘s beard," t Tiffani/xiii Ilb’lli'fli‘d/i s).
The. -, with ascore, of other silvan nuvcltics, failed
not to catch my eye, and impress me. with an inter-
est, in Nature‘s works stronger than I had ever felt
bi fore; all the more, after the monotony of a long
sea. voyage lasting eight weeks. For I sp Aak of a
time when the steam funnel had not yet belched
forth its black smoke OVer the blue waters of the
Next :an Gulf.

And if the .o/lra and flora of Louisiana delighted
me, not less d1d its/(tuna. On its savannas browsed
deer in herds uncountable: through its forests
roamed the puma~locally called panther—dording
it over lesser quadrupeds of the predatory kind, as
the wolf, lynx, fox, with polecats, opossums, and rac-
coons. In its slow-flowing streams—lidtrolls—and
lagoons that gigantic reptile, the alligator—often
found a full rad in length—held undisputed do-
minion, making prey of fish, flesh and towl, any-
thin).r having the ill-luck to stray within the grasp of
its wide, gaping jaws, or the stroke of its sinewy
tail. Finally. there flew throu rh the air. or sat on
the waters, big birds, some of t iein brilliantly beau-
tiful, as the snow-white egret, the great Louisiana
crane, the blue. boron, and, brightest of all, the scar-
let tlamingo; while above soared in majestic flight
vultures, and various species of tlicja/cimi'dw, as the
singular fork-tailed kite, the Osprey, and white-
headed eagle.

Inspired by the instincts of a s ortsman, it is su-

ertluous to say that. with this p enitudc of game,

ouisiana seemed the very spot I was in search of;
and not long had I landed there before proeeeding
to beat up its covers, and explore the wildest recesses
of its swamps, sa 'annas and forests. For a period
of more than six months I spent almost every day in
excursions around New Orleans its capital city; ex-
tending them to a radius of in l fift ' miles—some-
times afoot, more seldom on horsebac ', and oftenest
in a boat along its bayous.

Still I was not satisfied. In all these expeditions I
had failed to find the species of game which I most
desired to get into my bag—the ,7/Iimi'ng'0. I had
been told there were flocks of these resplendent
birds in the great marshes around the Mississippi‘s
mouth, and that somewhere along: the outside coast
they had a breedingplace, where they might be
seen sitting, or rather standing straddled over their
nests in the act of incubation. Curious to wit-
ness this odd spectacle, I was willing to pay well for
it. But among all the guides and boatmen whom I
had hitherto engaged, none knew exactly where
the flamingoes were to be found.

Ihad almost given up hope of being able to add
the skin of one. to my chase trophies, when chance
ordered it. otherwise. The lucky accident. was due
to my making the. ac uaintance of a man whom I
had met in the hotel w ere I was staying—the cele-
brated “St. Charles’s." There was nothing very
remarkable in the outward appearance of this indi-
vidual, save his wearing a uniform. that of an
otiicer of the United States Revenue service. He
had been introduced to me by a friend as Captain
Macy, commanding the revenue cutter Alert, then
on station by the mouth of the Mississippi, with
range along the coast adjacent. We dined together,
and after dinner the Conversation turning on the
chase, and the animals available for it in that. par—
ticular district, I chanced casually to speak of my
desire to have a. da 7’9 flamingo shooting, and the
fact of my having hitherto been unable to meet
with these birds. I even expressed a doubt of their
existence in Louisiana.

“Flamingoes!” exclaimed Captain Macy. in re-
sponse to my declaration of incredulity. “ I‘ve shot
scores of them myself.”

“ here?” I inquired.

“Why, all around the coast westward of the river’s
mouth. There’s a. big rookerv of them—I suppose I
should call it ‘flamin ery ‘—not far from the island
of Bamtaria, where t 0 old buccaneer Lafitte used

[to bring his piratical craft to anchor.”

Need I say that this unexpected piece of intelli-
nce but sharpened my longing to go after the
fiftmingoes. and l (-xnressed a determination to pay
a visit to the pirate’s isle—if possible, as I put it.

*-~, ~ ..

 

‘ “ \Vhaf is there itnposmblc about it?
in: toput upwith such accommodation as a reve— ‘

The Chase of Leviathan.

“If possible!“ rejoined the revenue officer.

nuc cutter can all‘ord’rough, I may It 11 you-yotrll

  

 tlucncc, her family being one of the F. R’s, to say

If you‘re wiil- ;

be welcome to spend a ‘i't't'ii-vtl llltfllil‘ if you like it 5

Heidi r on board the A‘ -rt. And I'll take you to a
place where you can sh. .ot .l‘: i;:in'x'o s—s:y.t'!augl1tc1'
them. till you have (‘llwil'li' to till a \vhalc-ooat.“
Bargain strucktla-reand tlu n: ii‘xliIJSil'lI. Iiiyiind—
ing myself in the cultoi', and c: . ,: off the Missis»
sippi‘s mouth in ices min twenty-four hours after.

   

 

True, to his promise, Captain Macy conducted the
to a breeding-place of 1:1 ~I,irr_2.~. l in) iiiuch desired to
see at home in their i..'iiv:~ haunt 4. Indeed. I [H‘-
licve noonc linsever iHUlJ‘ti at these iright—ydumagcd,
long-legged creature-r. stoned and mounted on the
shelf of a museum, \VlIfitllli wishing to know snitc-
thingr moreaboul them than is toi.: in cycmpzcdias
01' the ordinary l)vt)i\> ('31 orizltlwiv ..:y,

Illanypcoplc filtte‘)’11.cl'-‘ is bid one kind of fla—
mingo, thr- ;.;rc.',t scailct bird ( opt-Jim rm“)
usually seen nioanted at the nizzwnns. ll‘1t there
are several Lil-tire? species. inhabiting the threecon—
tincnts of Asia, Africa and j‘lillt‘l'lt'ilz all tropical,
however. though not all confining their range to the
sea coast. For slmc are also i. and along the banks
of riVers and the shores of inland lakes. The species
with which I became acquainted through the intro:
duction of (.‘aptain Macy was different from the
Common red flamingo: being. in point of fact. the
New Worltl representative of ll.c.~~e unique birds,
known to naturaiists as the 1”]:‘I'II;4"/I/t" m: ('lxi’: mic.
It differs in several resin. cts from its Old World con.
gencrs, but c~pecia1ly in the Color of its plumage,
this bcing more of an orange than scarlet. V

In line, after n'aking a )(1;.'.i’.’ on tile. rookcry, or,
as my friend still jokingly persisted in callingr it,
“ tlaiuingcry,”l was s:l.isiicd to let them alone. All
the more, since around that same, coast were many
other objects equally claiming: attention, not only
things pertaining to the chase and the study of
natural history, nut history of auot her kind , .xowm m'lzv
ot'the early exploration of Louisiana by the. Span—
iard, De, Soto. and still later its colonization by the
Frenchman, La :jalle; with many a romanticepisode
of more modern times, as the escapades oi" Lafitte
and his piratical crew, with their rcvclings on the
isle of Baralaria.

But Captain )Iacy could tell other tales than those
rclatin to Louisiana and its past; adventures of
which e was himself the hero. He. was a man who
had not, only seen much of the world. but takon part
in its action. More than one, part had he played on
the stage, of life; although, as he. modestly put it,
never a conspicuous one. He had been all through
the Texas wars, when the spirited little republic of
the “Lone, Star” was fighting for independence;
and, at an earlier period of his life, had borne a
part in several of the South American rtwolutionary
struggles. But, antecedent to all these, and when
yet but a boy, he had other experiences to tell of,
quite as int *resting as his tales of battles and sieges.
For he had been a whalesman; and the narration of
his many perils and hair-breadth ‘scapes while in the
pursuit of this industry, while fascinating me with
its fresh originalitv, imparted a knowledge of the
great deep and its denizens, much of which will no
doubt be new to those who read “The Chase of
Leviathan,” whether they be themselves young or

And I here recount his adventures in the same
order as they were related to me; if not precisely in
his own words. as near to them as my memory en—
ables me to make it. So, reader, take note, that you
are not any long er listening to me, but to Captain
Macy—the man who actually chased “Leviathan.”

CHAPTER n.
A “ nLUBisi-m-Iu'x' ER.”

THOUGH country-horn—I might; say in the back.
woods, for I first drcw breath in a thinly-settch dis-
trict of western New York— I had, from earliest
boyhood, a longing for “a life on the ocean wave
and a home, on the rolling deep." I had often heard
that song, and no ot‘nt r so delighted me. My dispo-
sition for such a life was no doubt inherited from
my father, who had been an oflicer in the navy.
But, just because of his having been so, and otting
drowned by the. sinking of a ship—Vin which to was
first lieutenant—my mother would not hear of my
following the same profession. It had bereaved her
once. and she was determined not to let it do so a.
second time.

I cannot say that I ever knew my father, his death
having oceurred while I was but a little shaver in
long clothes. But during my days of boyhood I was
accustomed to hear much talk of him, all in his
favor. “ ivory inch a. sailor,” was a phrase Often
applied to him, and this not only by his surviving
relatives and friends, but the public at large. He
had been, in tiuth, a skilled officer and thorough
seaman: besides a man of many adventures and
daring deeds. to which last he was indebted for
transference from foret-astlc to quarter-deck.

Listening to the tales of his exploits —surcof being
told whenever our family circle was enlarged b ' the
advent of visitors—41s much as aught else, may ave
shaped my predilections for the so} . But. whatever
the cause. or how imbibed, this passion grew
stronger with my growth. despite a] my mother’s
efforts to thwart and tram le it out. Herintentions
were that I should follow 1 ie rofession of the law,
and for this end was I being (‘t Heated. But the dull-
est of books did naught to dull my natural longings;
instead. made them the keener; and each succeed-
ing holiday, when home from school, I made fresh
onsets on my mother, entreating her to procure for
me the a pointment of midshipman in the navy.
She couIdIiave got this easily enough; for she had in-

 

nothing of my father‘s posthumous fame.

Spite of all. she was deaf to my entreaties. The
old grief still prcyed upon her, and her dislike for
the sea, seeming instinctit e, continued as strong as
my liking ,for it.

For a period of several years. upon this ticklish
question there arose many a discussion between us,
with, at intervals, wumd foul weather; 1 making
thcattack with all um arguments Icould iiit:ste1‘,3li€
standing on the (It-fer so vigorously. and l may
add successfully. For, on what ever side lay reason
or thc justice of the case. the discussion always
ended by her sit rnly denying my wishes. A lawyer
she meant inc to be; indeed. she had hopes—what
American mother has not?---that 1, her son. might
some day be l’residcut of the United bit- esAthc
legal prol‘t ssion. as a rule. being the stringditest
road to this high prefcrnu-nt. Possibly tlrc some.
instinct which inspired inc with a love for the sea
also imbued me with a hatred for what all .sailctti'.
and I might add all honcst men hateythe law. (if
nysclf I absolutely abhor-red it. and could hot bear
Iii“ thought of being one of its “litiilis.” So at
length. ('(thvinccd my mother would newt yitld, I
cut the Gordian knot. by taking a stirreptftious de—
parture from home—in common parlance, I ran
away from it,

As a matter of course my first tack was made for
New York city. Not that I meant. staying lid rc, for
Iliad no such intention. My future home was to be
the sea. and I only sought our gr‘at American
metropolis usthe center and slal'tiltg’pt‘)i:.i‘ for all
oc inn adventure. which in a way it is. No port in
the world shows a larger number of ships, or a.
greater variety of national ensigns. The tings of
every maritime countr'; in the World may Ht seen
unl‘urlcd and waving there. So I had not, mistaken.
the place. most likely to launch me on the seas.
New York was that. if any.

The difficulty was about taking the. first steps—-
making my mbd/ as a mariner. This fol a time
troubled, even distressed inc, seeming impossible to
be got over. ms barely sixteen. and although
well up in book knowletlgc—vt'or my age tducatrd
better than ('I;ltllttUlI»rl knew nothing elsr : not a
thing by which I might make a livelihood titht r t n
land or on sea. To offer myself on tour-'1 a :-hip. for
service of any sort, would be tlo nu ct sure refusal.
I did not know this at first, but be "ante aware of it
after several times trying.

Just as I had reachcd the despairing point and had
almost given it up. Icam -across a man, who,v~.'hcti‘.-r
for good or ill, scemcd sent as my guiding star. llo
was the captain of a whaling vessel; though the en-
countcr arose not on his own ship -r she bein;.r at ti.(
time in New Bedford harbor—but on one of the New
York wharvcs, or" piers,” as they are called. I had
been on board a barquc that was about to set sail
for the West indies. and had offered myself, to meet
refusal, as many times before. ltack upon the
wooden wharf, I was sauntering alons: in greater de-

...

 

. jection than ever, when I heard a voice hailing me

from behind '

“ Ahoy, there, youngster! Bring to, and let‘s have
a talk with you.”

Turning—as the words were evidently addressed
to myself—in the speaker I recognized a man whom
I had noticed on the barque’s quarter-deck in con
versation with her captain. Coming quickly up with
me. he said in continuation:

“You want, to go to sea, don’t you, little Hm?"
Then, without giving me. time to reply, he went on:
“You needn‘t answer; I know on do. Well, how‘d
ye, like. to take a trip along w th Inc? You look a
genteelish lad; but that don‘t matter. There‘s more
than oneof your sort in the i‘or’c‘stle of (the Fly-
ing Cloud. You'll be safe enough there, and snug
too. It‘s rough work at times. but I suppose you’re
not particular. You won‘t be, if you‘ve got the stuff
in you fora sailor; and, from the cut of your jib and
the set of your stu’ns’lls, strikes me you have.
So, then, what say you to becoming a (Jabber—
hunter?”

During this odd rambling speech, which I but half
comprehended, he kept changing a cigar from one
cornerot’ his mouth to the other, plucking it out and
putting it back again, all the while chewing rather
than smoking it. Indeed, that was he doing, as the
end of the cigar—a long regalia—u as crushed and
flattened for an inch or two outside. his lips. This
eccentric action, with something else strange in his
behavior, led me to suspect he might not be alto-
gether right in the to? story: or, if so. that he was
making game of me. {is closing uestion made me
sure of it; for I had no more idea 0 what-was meant
by a “blubber-hunter ” than the man in the moon.

“I say, ho," was my rejoinder. somewhat slim
and short, for I was rather irritated by his free-an -
easy fashion. “An thing but a blubber-hunter,” I
added, with scornfu emphasis.

Iwas turning to continue my walk, when. chancing
to give another glance up at the man’s face, I ob-
servod an expression upon it which changed my
opinion of him. He was a. man in the prime of life,
forty or forty-five, with a. ruddy, sunburnt com-
plexion, and features alight but Sinister. ‘Instcad,
inclined to joviality. with a dash of comicm them;
this hightcned by the mode in which he held his
cigar. It was stuck between his teeth at an acute
angle with the plane of his face, but always changing

osition, the ignited end now above the brid e of

iis nose, anon elow the poxnt of his chin. 0n ear-
ing my curt and somewhat ill-natured reply, he
lucked it clean out of his month; then, making de-
liberate survey of me frorn head to foot. ho (trawled
0

ut:

“ Anything but ablubber-huntert Well, you’re a.
kewrio, I must say. Wantin’ to go to sat—mad,
keen, to ship in any capacity—as I‘ve hard you.

  
   

  

 

 

admit but a. minute ago; and yet scornin‘ to become
a whalesmanl Let me tell you, yming ‘un, you
might do worse; and, with all your grand airs, there
are some of my lads on board. the Flying Cloud who
have reason to think themselves quite as big bugs as
yourself. "

Ho had turned shoulder, and was hastening on
)ast me, when I came to comprehend the mistake. I

ad made. In fact, as soon as he had taken the.
cigar from between his teeth, and his lips, hitherto
kept awry by it, became straightened to their natu-

ral position, his countenance no longer betokencd
either imbecility or fun-making. On the contrary,
it expressed seriousness and decision.

“Stay, sir!" I said, calling after him, in tone of
re entance and appeal, for I felt that I owed it him.
“ see that I‘ve committ ed a mistake, and acknowl-
edge it. It was all of my not knowing what you
meant by a blubber-huntcr. Had I known it was a
whalesman, I should have said yes; been but too
glad to say it."

“ Well, little ’un," he. rejoined, once more, coming
to a stop, “I thought there was some twist in our
understandin’ of one another. So I‘ll put the ques-
tion to vou once, more, leaving out the. dubious
words: oyou want to be one of the fraternity of
whalcsmen?”

“ Nothing would more delight me, sir. I'd rather
be that than an *thing else.”

Ispoko but t :e truth—the honcst truth. For at
the time thcwhaling business-atleast in the United
States~was at its best, men making fortunes by it.
I cared not for this. What most concerned me was
the romance attached to it—thc episodes of adven-
ture, peril, and hair-breadth escape—narratives of
which were constantly, almost daily, appearing in
the newspapers. It was just the life, I had been
longing for, and here at length, was an opportunity
to enter upon it.

Need I say that I embraced it? You may be very
sure I did; and before leaving the spot closed with
the proposal made me by the man who had so op-
portuner introduced himself.

“Meet me to-morrow," he said, at parting, “and
I’ll give you full directions. You’ll find me at the
Ship and Anchor Hotel, close to Peck slip. Inquire
for Captain Drinkwater, of the Flying Cloud. But
you needn’t name the vessel, as she’s in New Bed-

ord. Ten o’clock, sharp, 1r lad. Be there to a
minute, if you want to be a b ubber-hunter.”

Saying which, he pitched the cigar back into his
mouth, gave it another “scrunch” between his
teeth, and left me alone upon the pier.

CHAPTER III.
THE FLYING (morn.

NEXT morning, I need hardly tell you, I was punc-
tual Ito my appointment at the Ship and Anchor

ote .

My second interview with Captain Drinkwater
ended in my being formally engaged as an appren-
tice to the craft of the whalesman, with instructions
where to find his ship, and orders to report myself
on board forthwith,

In twenty-fen r hours after I was in New Bedford,
on the Flying Cloud; and in less than a week from
that time we were well out into the Atlantic, head-
ing down for the Horn. Our destination was the
Pacific, at that time the great cruising ground of
Whalers, as indeed it still is.

Of course I found life in the forecastle of a whal-
ing ship something very different from what I had
been accustomed to; and the company not quite
as refined as I might have wished it. They num-
bered between forty and fifty, mostly Ameri-
can-born though there were some of all coun-
tries and nations. A motley assemblage, and at
first seeming a rough one. But I had shipped for
adventure, not for society’s sake, and was prepared
for certain disagreeables. Indeed, I was rather
pleasantly surprised, to find things better than I

ad anticipated; and after a day or two’s inter-
course with the crew of the Flying Cloud I discov-
ered that their roughness was more apparent than
real, having a. good deal to do with “sprees ” ashore,
from the effects of which it took them some time to
recover. The their true character came out; and,
though there certainly were bad follows among
them, the good ones predominated by a large ma~
jority.

A certain degree of self-respect, with :5: sense of
decency, characterized the F1 ing Cloud’s crew; as
much, if not more than that of any other ship I have
ever been aboard of, and their discipline was quite
equal to that of most men-of—war. It is often so
with American whaling Vessels; a chief reason, as I
believe, being that on these young men of the better
classes not unfrequently seek employment, less for
the sake of gain than the love of adventure, as I
had myself. -

Another cause may be assigned for this tone of
respectability among American whalesmen. Every
one on boar( awhaling ship—be it boy or man—is in
away part owner of her; or, at all events, a. pros-

ectivc sharer in the 1profits of the adventure; and,

nowing himself suc ,is not likely to behave in a
manner that may frustrate the end in view. Often
a lucky cruise, lasting for little over a year—or it
may be under—sees each return home with enough
money made, hard earned thou h it may have been,
to start him in some other e ling—if the whales-
man‘s life has not proved to his liking.

0n the Flying Cloud there were several land~
lubbers; that is, youngsters, like myself, who had
never been to sea before. But, with that quick in-
tuition, which I believe almost peculiar to the
American eople—pardon me for what ma appear
a boast— .ey very soon became expe in the
handling of ropes and picked up all the other know-

‘ be held in abhorrence: rashness repudiated; so—

The Chase of Leviathan.

about as well manned a vessel as ever weathered
that dangerous headland.

There was a drawback, however, to this capa-
bility of lu-r crew. This, our captain, who was not
exactly what h'~ should he. Never did a man bear
a name less in l'i"'1=lll‘{ with his nature than Captain
Drinkwatcr. If hehad been called Captain llrink-
rum it. would have been more appropriate to his
habits.

It was fortunate for us that there was another of—
ficer on b and of an alloceihcr different (“Slit isition,
with habits oi" the way opposite kind. This the first
mate, by namn Elijah Collin; or. in the familiarity
peculiar to the crews of u haling,r ships, more gene-
rally called, “Lige Collin‘E—a New l'liiglander by
birth, and whalesman to The backbone, as his sur»
name indicates. For It‘cnimorc Cooper, in bestow—
ing on the stalwart hero of his romance, the name of
“Long Tom Collin," drew the appellation from real
life. All around the lllzlSSflLllllSt'ilS shore, from New
Bedford to Boston, there is not a sea-coast village
without its family of Collins, and a whaling vessel
going to sea from this part of the world with no
man named Cofiin among her crew would be some-
thing exceptional.

The Flying Cloud was not thus deficient, instead,
m «cg/Ir. And if Lige ('ofli'i was not so noted as his
namesake of the novel, he was equally as good a
seaman; none more skilled ever treading the deck
of ship. He had his idiosyncrasies, too, as our cap-
tain, but luckily leaning the opposite way. Drink

bricty, taciturnity and caution being his three chief
characteristics.

Not the only ones, however, as we all~ knew.
More than once, before weathering the. Horn, his
courage had been tested, and stood the, test: as
again several times during our cruise. in the Pacific.
It was my particular fat e. however, to see it tried
in a wav, and under circumstances of a verype-
culiar and perilous kind—"such as I should not care
to encounter again. In fact he. and I were in that
position it was (lie one or the other—at least, we
thought so at the time.

CHAPTER IV.
A CHRISTMAS MORNING IN MID-OCEAN.

WE had spent several months in the South Pacific.

cruising about after cac/mlot, this whale being the
sort which there most abounds, and for the capture
of which the Flying Cloud had been especially fitted
out. It was before the discoveryof petroleum, when
sperm oil. or, more properl , spermaceli, command-
ed such prices as to make t e capture of this species
more rolitable than any other.
We iad chanced upon what my shipmates called a
lucky lay,” 20f} leagues off the coast of Chili, where
almost every day we sighted ('(Iclialnl, and not many
passed without our making capture of one.

But just in proportion to our success, our skip-
per’s fondness for drink Inore than ever declared
ltSOlf; frequently to the discomfort of the crew.
Water he seemed to abhor, or. atall events, cared so
little about that he rarely drank it, or only in his
coffee. His idea of a properlyanixed grog was that
called coxswain’s—“a pint of rum with half a pint
of that same.”

And yet he was not a bad man in his way, or of a
wicked disposition—anything but that. Instead,
when sober, a kindly creature, and generous to a
fault. Rashness was his besetting sin, next to his
fondness for Santa Cruz rum; this being his favor-
ite tipple. And when under its influence his rash-
ncss often degenerated into recklessness, of a very
dangerous kind to his ship and crew, as well as to
himself.

One. of his most cherished ideas was, that the Fly-
ing Cloud was the fastest ship that ever carried can-
vas, and, morcvcr, could herself carry any amount of
it, no matter what the wind. In ,oint of fact she
was a fast-sailing vessel; though I iavc been upon
others that could show stern to her on any tack.
Captain Driukwater did not believe there was one
that could do this, and the man who should have. said
so in his hearing need never expect to be friends
with him after. If, when under the influence of
drink, though only a little excited with it, he chanced
to see a ship standing on the same tack as himself,
or even bearing in a different direction, no matter
what his own course at the time or the business he
was about, he would order all sail out, helm up or
down, as the case might be, and engage the other
vessel in a race.

I remember once, when we were chasing a sperm
whale, and about to lower boats, a rival whalesman
a peared in sight, running along to ourleeward, and
a so in chase of a whale. It was larger than the one
we were after, being the bull, while ours was the cow.

“ By Geehosofat 2” cried Captain Drinkwater, using
one of his favorite exclaniations. as the telesco e
went up to his eye. “ 1f l’m not mistaken that's ‘me
Saucy Sarah. It is, by thunder! Let‘s ’bout ship,
boys, and show old Bostock the way to pitch a liar—
poon into a whale.”

And about the ship was put; for, drunk or sober,
Captain Drinkwatcr was not a man to be disobeyed.
It is but giving him his due to say, that he com-
manded his vessel and her crew, whether for good
orill, no one daring to dispute his authority. On this
occasion his luck lay on the wrong side, and the
Flying Cloud lost something in her reputation as a
fast sailer. For before we could come up with the
Saucy Sarah the latter had overtaken the bull
whale, lowered boats, harpooned and hooked onto
it. As we surged alongside Bostock, her captain,
standing upon the tatfrail, trumpet to his lips, cried
out:

“Too late this time, Drinkwateivtoo late! If I‘d
own you were astern I‘d have thrown you a haw-

 

LL

 

ledge necessary for navigatini a ship. So, before
we°had rounded Cape Horn, t 6 Flying Cloud was

ser and taken the Cloud in tow. You’d better put

  

3

 

must sail
with her!

During all the time of my being aboard the Flying
Cloud I never saw her captain‘s face so exprcs>
ot' chagrin. It showed the very maximum of if.
As we put about to rt turn to the whale we had to:-
saken for such slight, cause, and which Ullll"'liti"
escaped its—indeed, we never set eye-4 on it a;:.i;n 7-
he called for more lllill. his favorite Santa Ci Inc, (ll"l
went on swallowing glass after glass till carried
helpless to his st ate-room.

For all. our success was such, that when Christ-
mas came round we had got on board neatly us
much oil as our crat't could carry, and wanted only
another hundred barrels or so tocoinplclc t he cargo.
Ofcouise this put u--: all in the best of spirits, and
we were determined that (.‘hristmas Dry on the Fly-
in: Cloud should be one of the incrriest evertpcnt
in a ship.

Captain and crew being, as already stated, all
partners in the speculation, were alike jubilant over
the succossful issue; and though out at sc-v, 2&2!)
leagues from land and far away from home, the
thought of Christmas, with its mystic rites. was as
much present to us. as if we Were. about to spend it,
each under his own parental root' tree, or by tho
lireside ot'a friend. But as we could not be there,
we madcuo our minds that the day should be ob-
served with all due solcnmity, and as much cheer as
eould be extracted from the storei ooms of awhalcr.
As I learned from some of my shipmates such had
been the custom of the Flying Cloud—for this was
not her first whaling Voyage—whether cruising
among the icebergs of" the Arctic Ocean, or on the
blue billows of the South Sea.

On this occasion, however, there was something
more than the wonted incitement to hilarity. Her
crew were like sportsmen who have had a good day,
and are starting back home. with a boa 'y game-bag.
And so near to going home! That also added to our
anticipated pleasure, recalling the lllt‘lllol‘lt»‘:~‘. of
many other Christmas days spent among,r sisters,
sweet cousins, and kinst'olk; and if there was a
drawback now, it was because these were not with
us or, rather we with them.

Still we might be merry enough without them, and
to insure this every available resource found upon
the Flying Cloud was summoned into contribuifor.
If we were not to have the presence of Women. our
generous-hearted skipper promised plenty of winw,
or, what was more to the taste of the {(ilt‘L‘r-‘f-xlx‘,
rum and whisky, right cheerfully placiut" all tine
cabin stores at our disposal; while the (:1)oi£-— :L :t a: --
complished cluf of the Sea specialty, “'illl u 2'--‘. '5
skin—promised to produce such a spread cs: h: .1
never been set before a crew of voracious v.'l...l<~.,-
men.

There was some “chalf” about the absence of
turkey and the orthodox Christmas goose, whith
was equally unattainable. Some talk. too, of our
having a substitute, b ' shooting down one of the
gulls, gannets, or nod ies seen (lying around the
ship. Possibly had an albatross, or other big sea
bird, ventured just then within shot-gun range, it
might have graced the festive board of the Flying
Cloud‘s forecastile for that Christmas Day‘s dinner.

Apart. from the desirable dishes which could not
be obtained, however, there was no lack of material
for others not disdainable. The ship being pro-
visioned for a longer cruise than we would now be
called upon to make, her stores were far from being
exhausted: plenty of beef, “prime mess,"rcmain-
ing, wnth pork, pickles and preserves. Flour. to“, of
first uality, with raisins and dried currants, quaintly
called plums, to make the pudding. and brandy,
promised by the captain, to burn “blue blaxts“
around it. Ye were to have soup and fish, with the
famed “ fish-chowder.” some albacorcs we had
caught giving opportunity for indulging in this last——
a dish in the concoetion of which our sable cook was,
celebrated. To acrew that had been living for six
months on “salt junk,” varied occasionally with
“ scouse ” and “ duff,” the promised menu appeared
epicurean.

Early on Christmas morning the decks were clear-
ed, far as circumstances permitted; then \\'.~.Sllctl
and holystoned like those of a ship-of—war. This
done, every man made his toilette, all appearing: in
“Sundayg -ashores,” the best theirsca-chcsts could

produce. Some were got up with as much care and
elegance as if a ball were about to come oil" on
board, with Queen Emma, 0f the Sandwich Islands,
or Pomare, of Otaheite, expected to be present, and
shake a foot in the dancing.

For all, there was one who remained backward,
and seemed to decline entering into the spirit It the
hour; the Flying Cloud‘s first ofi'icer, Elijah Collin.
On this merry Christmas morn, when evcrylzm’y
else was full of joyous glee, flinging jests at one an-
other, and loudly laughing, on the countenance ot’
Lige Coffin sat a cloud even darker and glooininr
than was its wont, and quite in kcepiugwith tho
funereal character of his name. Still, no one took
any notice of it. He had never borne part in any
game or sport indulged in bythe crew: and the
ceremony now to eome off, so {‘oyous and festive,
was not at all to his liking. Eat the intention been
to hold a prayer meeting, he would have been
rominent in promoting it, and the man to act as its
eader. Still, despite his cold. unlovable disposition,
Lige Coffin was not disliked by the Flying Cloud’s
crew. far less was he despised by them. All knew
him to be a good man and able seaman, above. all,
as skilled a whalesman as ever hurled harpoon.
And as an oflicer, if unsocial, he was not tyrannical.
Therefore, though none of us could “cotton” to
him, there was no one who either hated, or held him
in contempt. It would have pleased many on that
articular day to see him, cheerful with the rest;
hough few took note of the shadow which sat upon

quicker than you‘re doing to catch up

 

 

 

back to that cow you were crawling after. But you

 

his brow; and those who did possibly put it down

  

 

  

4

 

 

 

to the eccentricity of his character; his habit he-
lngn or seeming, to feel sad while otheis were re-
JOicmg.

. accustomed as we were to his habitual solemnitv,
1t httle affected us; on this merry morning: less than
ever, when the lines of duty were relaxed, and his
authority as our officer for the time in abeyancc.

CHAPTER V.
“sun n1.ows 1”

THE sun had eross‘ed the meridian and savory
odors, oozing: out; of the cook‘s galley admonished
us that ere long: dinner would be dished. We were
in the full 5 ringtide of pleasurable anticipation,
when a hail rom aloft brou'flit a change over the
countenance of every one. ftwas the well-known
shout, “ She blows!"

I think I may safel" assert, that never was this
cry heard upon a whaier‘s deck with less feeling,’ of
joyfiilmss; more than one face actually showing
sorrow at it. For to go \viialerhasingz just then
would be to abandon all the expected pleasure. of
the festivities, to say nothirgot‘ the. dinner getting
spoiled. But Captain Drinkwatcr was not the man
toiet such achance escape him. If he had been,
his first officer was sure to insist upon taking advan-
tage of it. indeed. the “ Blows " had scarce ceased
to reverberate through the ship‘s rigging, when a
voice. in long—drawn, lugubrious: cadence, was heard
inquiring. “ Whereaway'?’ It came from Lige
gotil'in, just then seen hastening across the quarter~

ec '.

“ Larb‘rd bow,“ responded the man on the mast-
head. “There, again—«blowsW

The Flying ('Tloud‘s crew would not have. been
whalesmen to remain longer eaim; . nd in ten sec-
onds” time all hands were crowding,r along: the larv
hoard side. and looking oil‘ over the ocean. Not so
ar «if, either; for the spray, which betrayed the
breathing: of ii mint/2m: at this his second exhalation,
was scarce. three cables” length it om the ship.
From the spout being,r a singrle instead of double. jet,
wo (wuld tell the whole to he a lam-inde/ ,‘ iholxgrh
there were other peculiarities which enabled us lo
make out iis species, as the blunt. M‘glli'il _- head. the
protubr-rani hunch on [he 12er-l.’,andt!”% elongated
ridge declining toward the tail An old /w//, t o,
piebail and t:ra],'-headcd~ on : of the. largest any of
us had ever seen.

“15)? (lei-l'iosefat! a hundred-llarz‘i-ierf" exclaimed
the enrnain. who by this had gel noon f‘ie forward
(leek. “ Boys!“ he continued, “he‘: a beauty, isn’t
he? He'll just complete our cargo. d' v. e flt‘l'vlilt‘. iron
into him. See! he's going: slow as a. plo'.v—o,‘;; spout-
ing', and never once sounding, just as to say; "Follow
me, if you darez‘ Li 1‘s dow'i beat}; and after him i”

Atanyother time. our captain would have com-
faandd “ down boats," instead of thus half entreat—
 it. But he sanv how rt luctant his crew were to go
a chase of a whale which had so inopportunely
shown itself. The delectable l'ragrranee, carried for-
ward from the cook‘s galley, had a hold upon them
strong. 2‘ than any cctaceous attraction. fiesides,
every one was in his L‘o-asbore toggery, and to start

'for work, under the circumstances was anything but
to their liking.

Had the cachalot been a cow, or one of ordinary
size, it is likely thetemptation to chase it would have
been even less. and the order, if not. actually resist~
ed. obeyed with little alacrity. But an old bull, to
all appearances a “hundred-barrel.-r.“ as the cap-
tain had said, that was another affair. Sperm oil
was then selling at sixty dollars the barrel, with
“case ” and “junk ” high—priced in propmvtion, This
meant a pot of money, and the crew, being a, joint-
stock company, made all the difference. Besides,
the whale was still keeping company with our
barque, bowling along in )arallcl course with her,
right abean‘, as if really bi dingusdeflancc! Where
was the wliaiesman who coulJ stand that?

“We must have him aboard, boys!” again cried
out the 'aptain. “Just the dish to crown our
Christmas-dinner, and he’ll stand for both goose and
turkey. Let’s postpone it, their, till we‘ve struck
him, and .i‘ll draw double rations of the best Santa
Cruz.“

It no longer needed this promise to encourage the
Flying Cloud's crew, or excite them 1/) the chase.
The saucy behavior of the em'lmlof had already done
this, provoking them to a man. So that to the cap-
tain’s speeches there was a prompt unanimous re-
s onse.

“All right; we're ready l”

“ Out boats. then, and onto himl A hundred dol-
lars to the first boat that makes fast 1”

With that alertness which distinguishes the crew
or a whaling vessel, the boats were soon lowered,
manned, and in full chase of the whale.

I chanced to be one of the larboard boat’s crew,
under command of the first mate. who always heads
this boat. There were three other rowers, besides
myself, ,with the boat-steerer—in short. the usual
complement of six. And, spurred on by the hope
and respect of obtainin a. sixth share in that hun~
drefdollars, I need h'ar y say that every one of us
worked our car with a wi i.

We rowers in the first mate’s boat were all of us
strong young fellows, and. besides. had the most
skillful steer-er of the Flying Cloud's crew. The re-
sult was, that we were up to the whale before either
of the other two boats had at within a. hundred

ardsof it. In another secon our steerer,risi to

steer. and balancing himse f firm, with the ar-
poon poised on high, hurled it barb-deep into the
cachnlot, just behind the neck bunch.

We saw that we were “ tast;" had won the bum
drod; and sent up'a cheer of trium h, which must"
have been rather tantalizing to t e crews oi.’ the
waist and starboard boats. l

But only we youngsters who handled the cars do—
clared our exultatiou in this noisy fashion. The first

 

 

 

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

mate and stem‘er, older and of better experience,
took no part; in it, at least with their voices. That
of the former was heard loud enough; but not in
idle utterance. Instead. in a tone of command, his
countenance showing,r apprehension, he called out:

“ (live way, there—give why!"

in obedience we pulled our best, Well knowing:
why. it was to avoid the, swing: of the whalc's
tiukes, now lashing the water into team.

Only for a few minutes did the “bohtailintz ‘ con-
tinue. Then, to the cry, " There he goes! eyes out 1“
the. huge. cetaceau started oil to windward like a
runaway horsedragrcinj,r upon the, bit, and maddencd
by the spur that had piel'thl his ribs, still 'mnklin'br
in them.

Out went our line, reeling oli‘ the wheel in a whir,
till it touched its last t'ai hem, becoming: taut with a
sudden pluck; after which out boat. was carried
through the. water as it" towed in the wake of the
fastest steamer i

For a full haltehour did this easy skim to wind-
ward continue: tili. lll‘:~l the two boats we had
beaten, and then the baroue herself, sunk nearly out
of sight.

Most, if not all of us rowrrs began to feel alarm.
the steerer himsch showing it, but int l.i;re l'otliu.
To the eolinsel, timidly spoken. to “(jut loose and
let the whale go,” he would not listen.

“No-0“" he drawled out. in his strange, singing
voice, asii it Were the:commencement of a hymn:
“we, can't ai'l’ord to let him ott‘ that way. it, mout
be a. month ’fore we hev sieh another chance: an” a
month later will make it ugly gettiu‘ round the
Horn. He's had the hat-poor) well into him, and we
must give. him the, lance. tot. Looki He’s not like
to tow us many i‘urlong further. Don‘t ye see. he's
blowin’ blood?”

This was true enough. On turning our eyes to the.
old bull, we saw that the spray belched up from his
spiracle had become. ot“ a reddish color, which told
that the lltil‘pimli had strut-k him in a. vital part, lay-
in:: open one ol’ t l.e. laru‘e blotxl-verzselw. Not untre-
quenily the harptmn~stroke is of itself sutlicient to
kill a whale, :~n.l our bontzuer-rer believed he had
given the math blow to 1 his: one.

Wewein 11ml so ('t‘l‘liti') oi" swenring illlli. that we
thought in more alrud. the boat: left behind, nor
the ilill'(lll‘.‘. From this than all our attention “as

.

taken no with the nn-vt-znents ol' the wounded
giant. \x'e. could pert-eirotiuit be swam :zlower and

slower. bythe. lessened speed of our boat; and at
lem:! in he came to a. stop altogether.

“ile. lays to at last!” e::=. tinglyeried our ('our
mnnder. “iiaul linc, my hcarti s! lz'anl upon
him!"

Dropping: the ears. we all took hold of the lam
ioou‘line, and eenutn-ne -d haulin you it hand over
hand. Trusseon b.‘ou;'id us close up to the shale.
'l‘hen Lieetfoliin. lain-e in herd. l< .‘lllll",: over the
boat‘s bow, bean stabiiin’: the inure (_-r:~atiire, re-
realms: his Well-direeled strokes till the spray from
its spout-hole row to tail agraiu lik.‘ a shower of red
rain.

The raw/Hill." made a lasf attempt to sound."
But, weakened with the loss‘ of blood which the har-
poon blade had l'-t out. it. could but i'eebiy play its
tinker. and Went only a few feet under. Then, buoy—
intr back to the surface, it lay dead as a water-
soaked log"; the only motion ob:-:ervuble being: that
caused by the undulation ol.’ the sea, due to the whip-
pin;.,r of its illlkesin the. final struggle between life
and death—in whalesman‘s phrase, the " lllll‘l'ju'.“

(IllAlY ‘lilt VI.
A Fuse [all nurses.

Tris earl/(dot now surely (lead, it was necessary we
should no back for the ctht r boats, to help us tow it:
to the barque, or (‘it-t,‘ brim}: the. barque to the whale.
in either case it was also at: much matter of neces-
sity to mark the place. so that we might iind it
again. This was done. by the boat-steerer leaping
out on the whalc‘s body. and scrambling up to its
hump—in which he stuck one of our flag-signals.
Then, cutting out the harpoon, and liandim,r it back
into the boat, the lines were reeled up, and we were
preparing to row ofi‘, when again came the cry:

“ She blows !”

It was the steerer himself who shouted, still
standing up in the stern. He had sighted another
ear/Laid. .

“ Whereaway?” demanded the mate.

“ Port bow—two points. A’most dead ahead, and
bearin’ right down on us.”

The announcement set us all into a state of fresh
excitement, and no wonder. We had settled with
one whale and here was the chance of striking an-
other. What a triumph if we returned to report a
pair killed! That would surely complete the ship‘s
cargo! Glory and gain crowding upon us together.
A cachalor, too; for we all now had our eyes upon it,
and saw it was a single spoutcr.

“ Ship oars and lay to! ‘ sung out our commander.
“ Hluoa!” he added, with his eyes turned in the di~
rection of the live whale, “ there’sa pair of them!
Ah! I see—it’s a cow with her calf! Coming strai ht
this we , tool Look alive, Bill, and let the suc er
have it rat.” _

This to the boat-steerer, whose name was Bill, and
who now had hold of the he n. The reason of
his being directe first to use i on the calf,lwa.s be-
cause the latter, once killed, the cow would stay by
it. and give us an opportunit to strike her also. The
steel-er knew this, as we all id, and so prepared to
pitch the iron into the youngster first. i

In a few seconds more the cow came surging
along, with the miniature semblance of herself
swimming alongside, just by the end of her larboard
fin. Luckily our boat was upon that side. and in an
instant after the barbed weapon was launched and
buried in the body of the calf, which at the stroke
turned over, and lay lifeless on the water.

  
 

4.

 

  

 

 

Just as we anticipated, the mother did not attempt;
to make away, but at once came to, apparently in a
state of bewilderment. Before she could recover
from it, the-mate had (lung: the spare har oon, cry-
ing: put.  he saw it. sink deep into- her blu her:

‘ Vast!“

lint, instead of the cow staying: by the (lead calf, a:
we expected, she " breached " clear out of the watel.
and then coming down with a tertiflc dash, rm.
“head out," taking: the line alongr with ier. The
hemp was soon drawn taut, h u-d as a rod of iron.
and away we won! for a second drag. this time our
boat seeminz.r to glide through the waterwith greater
velocity than ever.

We. were soon out of sight of both the. dead calf
and bull; even the signal flag sinking by inches at a
time. And hel'on- the, cow came to a stop—which
shout length (:oxn,h.-sc+'ntled to do-the bit of hunting
had quite. disappeared from our view!

Soon as she was at rest, We cmnmenced hauling
line, though we made approach with more. caution
than when closing in upon the bull. All knew that
the danger was greater, a cow wan/uth deprived of
her etill’ being the ugliest kind of customer to have
dealings with.

We drew up to her. however. safe enough; the
huge er oture as We approached lying still and mo-
tionless, without so much as a tremor. She had
squirt: d such a quantity of blood from her spout
hole, we took it she must be, dead.

Never were nren more mistaken. Just as we had
got. within larciug distant-e, we. noticed a muscular
contraction in the convex ridge of the eetaceau‘s
bat-k. and quick tollowing the tail Went suddenly up-
ward.

“There goes dukes!" shouted the, steerer. “She’s
going: to sounds-look out for squalls!”

As; he spoke, the cow elevated her broad steering
gear high in air. and with her body t'oramoment
poised perpendieularly. as if standing on her head,
she. dropp. d down into the water. at once disappear-
ing: from our 1', 2'.

Knox-'iirnvlntt this meant, and that there was (lan—
IJ‘t-i' still. to the command, “Hat's all!" “'0 com—
meneml pulling oil’, as for very life.

And for Me it: was, but alas! also too late. lu an
inr-tant' at'tv-r the heat. rer'eived a sheck. followed, by
aecntinuonsen 'l " : in the midstot‘ which I felt
as if [wt-re in. ' ul‘old, only with the.
(inference 1 lm‘ lwhened-myselt [girth up instead of
down! lint jnd as I llad nru‘e this rwileetiou the
order was i" .' ed: and t 1;: ill rt rem-alien west}
plunsre into water, so drep that the immersion con-
tinued uni ll l was \veil-mq‘h elzokezi.

lnnni hai e lw-p luu led hitrh lipinto the. air, judg-
ing: by the dz" I! it ot’ ill) descent underthe water: for.
as [(fl“‘..<("i sinkinzz'. an! begun to buoy up again, all
\\'1‘“ (lill‘is'lll‘S'i ili'I/illlli l'lu",

Once more back 1-) the surface: :1 her rullhinfr the
brine out of my eyes. Hooked abroad for t!.e in "d.
It was not. in si. iii! And i‘. s crew. my late emupzm—
ions, wherc m re they? "Not one of them to be seen
 no boat, no human being, no body! F.“ on th ~
C(ll MIN cow, that “linked” us, had not return: «i
from hersoundings, if she ever would. 1 was Lions,
or seemed s4 1, on the. \'.':Iyless write: !

It was not waveless, however, now; though lately
it had been. .Xl)l‘t‘n".-Ct5 had sprung,r up, and was fast.
fl't.‘>;ilt‘lll:1f:. Already a curl was over the surface,
which here and there. show ed crested flakes of foam
beginning to Hon? upwrrd. Possibly but for thisI
might have 894 it some: hing of the boat’s wreck—for
Ii'elt sure it must have been smashed—or of my
Comrades. who as myself, had been precipitated
into the sea. Ilmew they could all swim, and should
still be near, as I butleting: with the billows.

I called aloud. No answer. A large sea-bird,
booby or albatross, swooping overhead, croaked the
only resl’mnse.

intrinzrall this time I was not lying low on the
water, but every now and then,with head raised high
as I could hold it. Though born and brought u l,  I
have. told you, in thebackwoods, it was on the banks
of a broad, deep river, and in that I had bathed
often enough to make me a good swimmer. With-
out boasting, I may sav that I am one of the best,
and was, even when a boy. So with full reliance
upon in powers in this respect, I took things more
cooli t. an I otherwise might have done, knowing
that it’ there was any fragment of the boat drifting
about, I could easily reach it.

Nor had I as yet lost all hope of being able toswim
back to the ship, if I should not sooner meet one of
the other boats. Both had been seen rowing on to
ward us after we lanced the bull cachalot. This hope
for a time sustained me, and aftertwo or three turns
round the place where we had been “ fluked,” seeing
nothing there, I struck out in the direction in which
as I supposed, the ship lay.

It was not long before I awaited from m delusion.
For now, swimming straight forward, I ound time
to reflect, my reflections admonishinq me how much
I was mistaken in the idea that I could swim back to
the shi . I now remembered that long before we
had kiliied the bull cachalot the other boats were out
of sight, and on the tow-line after the cow we had
been carried still further away from them. Good
swimmer as Iwas, I now too well know that the Fly-
ing Cloud must be too far off for me to reach her,
even thou h a. star in the sky, or alight aloft on her
main trucE, showed me the direction. The sun had
gone down, and the twill ht be nning to darken
over the sea, made me t ink 0 stars and ships‘

x

 

 

    

l‘.
(H

lanterns.
Continuing to reflect with still eater recision, I
remembere that when arting mm the inn whale

we could ust see about ialt’ a. yard of the barque's
mainroy mast-head, which meant a distance of at:

least six nautical miles; added to which, the rapid
rush of the cow must have taken us nearl
far off. A swim of twelve miles! Enoug

twice as
to make

  

 

 

  
 

 

me despair of ever reaching the ship, even with a
boat rowed alongside.

But much more and sooner where there was no
boat; and despair I atlength felt, or something close
akin to it.

A last effort at standing erect, one more look
around. a keen interrogation of the waves with their
now whitened crests—nothing seen but these—and I
sunk back upon the surface of the water, little caring
whether I stayed there or went below to the bottom
of the sea.

 

CHAPTER VlI.
BANDS our!

FOR some time I lay bitterly, despairingly, upon
the waves, making just effort sufficient to keep me
afloat. Once or twice I cVen thought of suspending
the stroke and letting myself go to the bottom. Ay
more, I came nigh hastening the death I supposed I
should have to meet anyhow, by ducking my head
and making a plunge below. For the suspense was
terrible, and now that drowning seemed a dead cer-
taint ', the thought of it was onendurable. No one
coul call it suicide, or, if so, who could blame or
hold me sinfully cul Jablc under the CII‘CUIDIIIIIICOS?
But that just then indulged in no such moral or
metaphysical s )eculations, i need not tell you. At
the moment al my thoughts were of home, of my

sisters and brothers: above all, of my mother. And ‘

neverdid I mm c vividly recall the arguments she had
urgeda ainst my going to sea. with the reproachos
she won d shmver on me for having disobeyed her.
Ohl that I had listened to her words of warning! I
could comprehend their wisdom now.

How long I remained in this oddly reflective mood
I could never tell. During its continuance I u as as
one in a dream, and the movement that kept me
from sinking was made without an act of volition.
But I well remember, too well, w at startled me
from this trance of swimming somnambulism. It
was the body of a man, dead. and nearly cutin twain
b a broad blade wound, traversing straight across
his backl A wave rolled it up right in front of me,
and as it was carried past by the next surge, with
the face fair toward me I reco nized it as that of
Bill, the boat-steerer. Iiorrifle at the ghastly spec—
tacle, 1 turned my back upon it, and was striking off
to escape from such companionship, when another
body came before my eyes. This one, however, not
dead, nor lying along the wave, but erect, or at least
the upper half of it—for it was waist-deep in the
water, as I could see, supported by something. Just
then it rose over the com ing of aswell, showing the
thing that buoyed it to be a piece of broken timber.
But I was now near enough to identify it as pan: of
our boat, which the whale had shattered to pieces;
I saw, moreover, that the man u on it was Lige
Coffin. He was seated on its outsi e, a whale-lance
in his hands, the same with which he had been about
to strike the cow cachalot when she Bounded. This
he was using as a. addle; for it was not a lance of
the t rdinary kind. ut an old-fashioned, broad-bladed
weapon which chanced to be in the boat. I could
not restrain a shout of joy, and, with all my remain
in strength, swam straight toward him. ‘Saved 1"”
I t rought, or at least believed there was a better
chance of it.

A few seconds sufficed to show me how much I
was mistaken. As I drew near to him, I saw that he
seemed desirous of shunning me; indeed, soon as his
0 ‘es rested upon me, he turned his improvised pad-
d e, and commenced pulling off in the opposite di-
rection. Then came a dark cloud over his brow,
1whiclrseernml to say, " I don't want your company

ere.’

But I was not in the humor to be denied. To meit
was a life and death matter as to him; and such
chance as there was for life could not let pass
lightly. So, increasing the strength and rapidity of
in stroke, I swam on.

ith his unwieldy craft and ill-conditioned rowing-
gear, 110 made but oor way; and I easily gained
upon him. Soon as he saw this he ceased using the
lance as an ear, and, plucking it out of the water, he
held the weapon poised Over his head. evidently in-
tending to employ it for a very different purpose.
Nor did he make any secrt t of his intentions; instead,
confessing them plainly and point blank.

“ Don’t come any nearer!’ 2e said in his hollow,
sepulchral voice. “If on do, it’ll he your death.
As on value your life, on't come near mel”

T mm was no mistaking what he meant. Thclook
in his deep-sunken eyes, the tone of his voice, the
lance held th eateningly aloft, all spoke of a deter-
mination to t trust; me with it if I went within reach
of him. But there was somethin besides, equally
and even more convincing of what e would do. The
waves. in their tortuousand capricious whirling, or
it might be changing of my own course, had brought
back to me, or me to it, the body of the boat-steerer.
A surge swept between me and the man who was
wielding the whale-s pear. As the corpse cau' ht his
eye, he cried out, pointing to the great gas still
exuding blood: »

“ You see that? ’Twas all his own doing. He
wanted to take a seat beside me; and as this bit of
timber’s only enough to kee) one afloat I had to
say 770. He would insist, and was forcet to—well
I needn‘t tell you what; you see for yourself. So I
warn you again not to 0011163 near me."

More from being horrified by the terrible revela-
tion than any fear of the implied threat, I ceased
swimming toward him, and for a time lay afloat in
the water. But, as if to horrify me still further, the
mutilated corpse stop ed too, and, with a weir” like
persistence. came bob ing around me.

To get clear of it I again struck out, more by
chance than design, in the track of Lige Coffin. And

‘ I continued to follow him, though I cannot tell why,

fothad no hope of his doing aught to assist me.
Clearly he could not, without further imperiling

‘trying moment I deemed my (lirest enemy.

 

 

5

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

himself. Besides, I could still see u on his coun-
tenance the same dark cloud, and in is cold, rigid
features, with the closely-compressed lips, the same
determination to kill me if I came near bini.

Notwithstanding all this, I swam on after, easily
keeping up, but careful not to go within reach of
that neg weapon he had so late wielded with such
fatal effect.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
REMEMBER BILL.

FOR ten minutes or more I continued to swim
after Lige Coffin on his fra unent of plank. During
all this time we maintained our relative positions,
about six fathoms of Sea between us; he paddling
ahead. I with extended arms beating the wavos be—
hind, but with no greatly needed effort. Instead, so
little had I to (lo, I began to fancy myself being
towed by him, and it might have appeared so to a
spectator regarding us from a distance.

Silence all the while; not a word exchanged be-
tween us, and on his face still the same cold, unre-
lentinglook.

He continued to watch me with fixed glance, as if
he would be but too glad to see me falter and fall
behind. But I followed on, with full reliance in my
strength and swimming powers, knowing I could
keep up with him ever so long, and yet scarce
knowing why I should. He could kill me, and surely
would. as the expression in his eye showed, if 1 at-
tempted to take seat beside him on that frai sup-
)ort. Notwithstanding my being certain of t iis, I
~ept on, and close to the blade of his lance. as if
some magnetic force in the iron i self drew me up
to it. More like it was a moral fori-o—something of
that fascination exerted by the serpent over the
bird—backed by another instinct impelling me; the
thought that I must die, with the wish to do so in
the companionship of a fellow-creature. It awed,
horrified me to think of dropping behind and dying
alone, becoming ingull'ed in the wild waves that
surged around, no one to listen to my last \vords nor
speak the Solemn farewell. I should only hear the
cries of ravenous birds—for the sea has its vultures
as well as the land—some of which Were already
sounding in my ears, as if they knew I must surely
sink below the surface, soon to come back to it and
give them a banquet!

The horror I felt was f est becoming uncndurablc.
I should not, because I Could not. lave borne it
much longer; and in all likelihood one of two things
would there and then have resulted; either my vol-
untarily suspending my now feeble stroke and let-
ting myself sink to the bottom of the Sea, or putting
fresh vigor into it, and, regardless of the threaten—
ing whale-spear, make a spurt forward to contest
possession of the plank.

Fortunately it came not to this; but whyit did not
was no credit to me; instead to the man who in that
7 While
toiling wean‘ly through the waves, almost as hope-
lessly for him as for m 'self, our eyes often seeking
one another in mutual interrogation, 1 fancied I at
length saw in his something like an expression of
pitv. I knew he was not a man of a cruel or brutal
nature—anything but this—and that inhumanity
had naught to do with his behavior now. He was
but obe 'ing the dictates orinstincts of Nature‘s first
law—ta 'ing care of himself; therefore, I could
scarce blame him, and certainly would not under or-
dinary circumstances. But then, with my own life
at stake, I was less dis osed to be charitable; till at
len h his look seeme to say:

“ Vell, you‘ve worked hard for it, young fellow;
and I‘m sorry I can't assist you. But, as you see,
this thing won‘t carry two, and you can’t expect me
to sacrifice myself."

Not a word of this said be, though I could almost
believe he did, and that I heard it. Hence my rc-
joinder:

“I know it won't carry two; but can you see
nothing else that would help me? You are higher in
the water than I. Look around. for Heaven’s sakel
There may be something in sight; an oar, or another
fragment of the boat.”

He acceded to my request, and commenced scan-
ning the sea. I watched his every glance, and the
expression upon his features. as one who in the
words of the clairvoyant expects to be “told his
future.”

“Nothing,” he announced. after an interval, his
eyes once more turning toward me in an expression
of dull disappointment. *

“Make sure!" I said, in the urgency of despera-
tion. “Have you lookcd the sky line all round?
There’s the shi herself, and the signal-flagwe left
on the dead w ale; one or other maybe in sight,
and have escaped you."

"I wish one of them was in sight." “.0 .- pended,
in a ho elcss tone. “It‘s just for one or t‘other I’ve
been al along lookin’ on my own account. Lord
have mercy upon us, t ere’s neither to be seen l”

Once more my healt sunk within me, and I swam
despairineg as ever. But still keeping close to him;
as before following in his wake, and with my eyes
fixed upon hlS face, though more mechanically than
from any hope of his being able to help me.

And now again I saw that he did not seem to like
this, possibly having a fear I might in my drowning
despair swim up and clutch onto him. I had no
thought of doing so, or less than ever. His behavior
had disarmed me, for again he had run his eyes
around. evidently endeavoring to catch sight of
nomethingto which I might cling. He told me he
was doing this.

All at once I observed him make a start, and look
off over the sea with eager. steady gaze.

“What is it?" Iasked, without waiting for him to
declare himself.

“I thought I see‘d somethin’ out yonder—some-
thin' as looked like an our.”

 

“ Where? Point out the exact direction l”

“Out thar to the right-your larboard. Hadn‘t
you better swim a bit t at way and see i'"

I did not wait for more, but turning. struck out
and swam off, still guided by his directions called
after me.

Sure enough there was a something upon the
water, and a good way off. But I kc t on till close
enough to determine what it was. '0 boat‘s car,
but a strip of brown seaweed, a long stalk of drift-
ing kelp, which the next surge of the swell brought
up against my breast, almost infolding me in its
dangerous embrace. As it clung around me. so far
from proving a support, it came nigh holding me
fast, till I should sink through sheer exhaustion.

At length getting released from it, I recommenoed
swimming after the man who had directed me to-
ward the trcncherous waif. But now in an altered
frame of mind—in short, mad. angry at. him. He
had pla 'cd me a trick, as I su t})()SC(i, in saying he
believed)tbe floating object to e an oar. He knew
it was but a string of seaweed. All a rum. to get rid
of me. So thought I, and acting as the sinister
thought dictated, I made straight toward him, at
length determined on a struggle for mastery of the
bit of broken boat.

Chafed and furious, I reflected not on the result
of a such a contest, nor calculated the chances for
and against me. I knew the first mate to be a man
of rent strength, tough, and sinewy. Besides, be
him the double advantage of being armed with a.
formidable weapon, and something to support him
while wielding it. I was weaponle s with but my
naked hands and arms, both nee ed to keep me
afloat. It might seem rank insanity to think of as
sailing him thus.

But it did not to me then. Though onng, but a.
boy in years, I was a man in strengt 1, and more
than most men in suppleness and activity. I had
been the ("Illa/1’ of my school, the knowledge of
which now gave me confidence, urging me on to at-
tack Lige Coffin des ite all inequalities. But. still
more was I impellct by the thought of death by
drowning. That might come later, and seemed sure
to come; but I would prefer endin life in a quicker
wa , by a short, desperate strugg c, as that I he
nig resolved on. -

And what right had he to the fragment of w
more than myself? Life was sweet to me, as i
eould be to him. He was older, had seen more of
the world, and longer enjoyed it: another reason for
his being the one to leave it, not 1 to be cut off in
my early days, before I had entered upon man-
hood, beforc having made mfv peace with my mo-
ther. This thought of itsel was unbearable. It
excited me almost to madness, adding strength to
my stroke, till I swam as rapidly as I had ever done
in my life.

The result was my soon closing up with my in-
tended adversary. His eyes as I drew near became
sharply set upon me, their glance showing that be
suspected my intent. But his words were better
evit ence, along with the gestures accompanying
them. Plucking the whale—spear out of the water,
and brandishing it aloft over his head, he cried out:

“I warn you again not to come near me. If on
intend attempting it, make your peace with 0d.
For, sure as I sit here, I‘ll run you through with this
lance. 12. memoir 13.11:"

’ CHAPTER IX.
THE RED RAG.

IT was neither the threat made by the mate, nor
the horrid spectacle which his words called to re-
membrance, that hindered me from rushing on to
what would in all likelihood have been the last act
of my life. Instead, a thought, of purer origin and
more honorable intent, which had suddenly taken
possession of me. Had this man, after all, meant to
deceive and et rid of me? Or in representing the
driftweed to e a boat’s oar. was be under the belief
of its being so? He may have been, and I might be
mistaken. If so, what a crime I was on the eve of
committing, or at least attempting! Ind I succeed-
ed, and afterward found him innocent, there would
have been sin upon my soul, almost amounting to
that of murder. For I now recalled a fact, hitherto
for otten or unthought of, that the first mate of the
Flying Cloud, as we all knew, though an efficient of-
ficer was but an indifferent swimmer. Deprived of
the hit of timber which supported him, he would
likely enough go to the seas bottom in less than
sixty seconds’ time.

Reflecting thus, my spirit seemed to become Sud-
denly purified, and Iresolved to leave Lige Coffin
unmolegted, if he could only satisfy me about the
seawee . "

 

“ You knew that wasn‘t an oar you sent me after,” .

I said, looking him straight in the face. ,

“ I knew nothing of the kind. I didn‘t say it was
an oar; only that it looked like one and I believed it
to be so.” ‘

“ Are you speaking the truth, Mr. Coffin? On your
oath, are you?“

"I am. But I don’t ordinarily swear about such
things. And why should I now? What reason could
I have had for telling an untruth? You don’t su -
pOse I have any fear of your ushing me of)? th 3
thing? Why. oungster, with his weapon in hand

ou’re as muc at my mercy as a mouse between
he jaws of a cat. I could kill you even now I)
hurling the spear at your head. ut I wouldn‘t -
ter the we you‘ve acted—not for the world—11nd I
only wish could lend you a helping hand. Which,
as you know ve wcl ,

frail thing; but certainly we can’t both.”

After listening to his explanation, had Lign Coflln
slipped off the plank and pushed it toward me, tell-
ing me to get on, I should have rejected the offer. I
had mistaken the character of the man. And mw,

 

I can‘t, without giving my
life for yours. Leither of us may be saved by the >

 

    

 

6

better knowing it, I felt as though I could meet my
Sate with more fortitude and calmer resignation.

It seemed not far off. Iliad become greatly en-
feebled, and could not keep afloat many minutes
longer. Once more I bethought myself whether I
had not better suspend stroke, and put an end to the
agony; for agony it was to feel myself drowning,
dying as it were bv inches.

I had half-resolved to cut loose from life. It
needed but to cease action of my arms. With these
only a second at rest 1 Would sink to the bottom of
th - :e-a. lint to do this would he suit/r ,' possibly
eXcunablc under the circumstances. butslill in a
wry wif—murrler. and therefore sinful. For was it
certain that God had given me 11pi It was not—no,
not yet.

And no more had man—no more Lige Coffin. For
just then his voice again sounded in my car, this
time. in a toncof still deeper sympathy. as if more
than ever touched by my situation. l’erha is he. too
was reflecting. as l, of the sin of seltisimcss he
gvoulil he held accountable for by leaving me to my
'ate, ‘

Whatever the motive stirring him, he this time
called to me by name, saying:

“Macy! If you‘ll SV-(‘Zil‘ to me that you‘ll get off
this bit of timber, whenever I ask you to do so, I‘ll
let you get on and have a spell of rest. I'm not
such a bad swimmer but. thatl canatl'ord to do that.
We may both he lost all the same. but. there‘s
just a chance both of us may be. saved. The. \\ iud's
going down again. and we can‘t he so very far from
the dead whale. “'e. may reach that, if we can‘t the
ship: and. if so, it would give us footing till either
the harque or her boats come in search of us. Will
you swear, as 1 ask you?”

“I will."

“ By all your ho es of heaven ?"

I had just enoug l breath left to gasp out the form
of adjuration dictated.

“Enough!” he said, slipping off the bit of boat,
and giving it a shove toward me.

I was astride. of it the. instant after: and, under
my lesser weight it rose higher on the \ 'ater. But
for all that, I felt it would not have supported both,
and could now better understand why he had re-
fused me a seat beside him. If deepl ' affected by
his generous confidence, I had still further proof of
it by his handing me u ) the whale-lance, saying:

“Take this and patdlc straight on, keeping the
sun before 'our face. I’ve a reason for thinking the
ship’s out t lat way."

He needed not fear trusting me with the lance
then; I should sooner have thought of burying its'
blade in my own body, than in his.

After proceeding for some time—I on the plank
timing the. pace, so as not to become separated from
him—we again changed )laces. And with another
interval again: each a ter a. spell of swimming
to take a few minutes’ rest. Of course, our eyes
were not idle; instead, active, especially those of
him astride the plank, the more elevated position
giving a Wider and further view of the sea.

We had spent about an hourin this alternate swim-
ming, and resting, as travelers with but one horse
between them do the “ ride and tie,“ when it came
to an end: a happy termination; brought about, as
I thought then, and still think, by the hand of Provi-
dence; a. grace of God given to us in return for that
we had extended to one another. Surel was it His
hand which assisted us both in reward or our own
mutual assistance.

It was [who at the moment I speak of had the.
turn seat on the fragment of boat, with the duty of
watch over the waves. And never saw I an object
which gave me greater gladncss than that speck of
red rag, not bigger than a pocket—handkerchief, float-
ing at the top of a thin stick. For I knew it as the
signal—flag we had stuck into the carcass of the.
cachalof. Soon as sighting it, with my weakened
voice I sent up a. shout. But faint though it was, it
brought brightness to the face of my companion in
peril, who, like mysz‘lf, was almost in the last throes
of fecbleness and despair.

Istayed not a moment longer on the plank: but
slipping ofli again surrendered both seat and whale—
spear to Lige Coffin.

“ Yes!” he joyously exclaimed, soon as getting in
an upright position, and sighting the bit of red bunt-
ing. “ That’s our signal, for sartin. And now thar‘s
some chance of our gettin‘ saved. Drunk or sober,
Captain Drinkwater ain‘t the man to let Lige Cofi‘ln,
who’s cruised wi’ him, on an’ off, for a round dozen
0’ whalin’ voyages, go adrift, without doin’ the best
he can to hook onto him. Them on the barque.
know the direction the whale took us 01?. Besides.
the. other boats came a bit of the way. They‘re sure.
to ha’ got, back to the ship. and she’s sure to come
in Search of us. Drinkwatcr ‘ll quarter every inch
of this hyar ocean before he. thinks o’ givin’ us up 1"

With this our dialogue for the time came to an end,
both too intent, the one. rowing, the. other swimming
after, to think of aught else than reaching the red

in *.

Iii ten minutes after we reached it. Cofiin plunging
his lance deep into the “small " of the dead whale,
just above. the flakes; by which we were enabled to
climb upon its carcass. Soon as there. with firm
footing beneath us, we both dro ped down, to lie less
like men exhausted, than actua y dead.

 

CHAPTER X.
~ “ALL BUT BILL."

HOWEVER we may have looked lying along the
carcass of the cachalot, I can tell you how we felt;
or, I should rather say cannot, since for some time
we had no sensations at all. There was an interval
of unconsciousness experienced by both of us, com-
plete as if asleep. or really dead.

 

  

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

It. passed. however, both awaking from it simulta—
neously: to find the breath, well~nigh exhausted
in the long ‘ontlict with wind and wave, back into
our bodies. And with this also returned a Sense of
the reality of our situation; which was not absolute
safety, it is true, still something better than before.
Vv'chad at least rest forthc soles. of our feet, and
\vei'e no loi ger called upon to exert our legs and
arms in such ;: terribly tiresome way.

As already said. having: “ boarded " the whale be-
tween the linkv-s, which were on a lchl with the stir-
faci- of tho \a'atcr, We had laid otll‘sclvcs down just
above the “ small." lint, on recoveringr breath, with
consciousness, ~we proceeded on up tbc " ridge “ to-
ward the protuberance of the back, into which the
boacstt-t-rcr had stuck the signal-staff. You may
more easily imagine our surprise i lien i can descrin
it, when. as our eyes ro .c1 1 the level of the neck»
lllll!.‘l‘-, \\‘0' saw illl't'“ human i,t>lll'_‘.\‘ reclining against
it. recognizing them as our Clillzl'ttili‘s belonging to
lln- v.1'ci-ltcd boat!

With oursz-lws they had formed the complement
of its t'l‘t'W, all present now. sue the stccrcr. llill.
Lying sidc by side. silent and unuionlcss, lib-y. too,
seemed l‘lllll‘l' dead or asleep. l‘iul tlrcy wcrc nei-
ther one nor thcothcn only. as we had been, in the
utmost slab- ol' exhaustion, front which they had
not yet sulliclen'ly recovered to lit-stir themselves.
'I‘b"y had climbed upon the cr/ hit/«ii some time be-
fore us, having al~.o sighted lhc sizz‘nal-llag after a
protracted st rngglc with [he waves.

Starlled by our ejaculations of surprise. all three
of them instantly scrambled upon their feel, andwe
met in mutual coiuratulation, each party supposing
the experieneeof the other as being somewhat simi-
lar to its own. There was a. diiference, however, in
the questions exchanged, one of the three saying, in
a solemn tone of voice:

“ We’re all here but Bill. l wonder what ‘s become
of him. Have you seen anything of him?”

It. was not. my place to make answer: besides. the
question was more directly addressed to our oflicer.
As I looked up into his face I saw that his eye was
bent. upon me. in a glance which seemed to say,
“ Keep that secret.”

" I guess Bill’s gone antler," he rejoins, evasively,
“and we two would have done the same, but for a
bit of the broken boat that‘s been kee iin‘ us alloat.
But. how did the rest of you get here? I‘cll us that. E"
The question was somewhat impressively put. by
way of abstracting the. thoughts of his old mess—
mates from the missing boat-steerer.

Their story was soon told: having less of varied in-
cident than ours. They had struck right off from
the scene of disaster—all thiec keeping together—
and. more fortunate than the mate. and myself,
sooner caught sight of the llag waving over the C‘cad
whale. Being all of them iii-strata swimmers, they
were able to reach it, though it tasked their full
strength. as they admitted.

The moments of our mutual rejoicing were but
brief: despondence returning to all of us. soon as we.
again began to retlect on our future. For what had
we gained by getting back on the whale’s body?
After all, but a temporary footing~a rest, that was
only as respite to one condemned to execution. with
little hope or prospect of full final pardon. If the
barque or her boats came not for us, we must die all
the same. And b ' inches, 3. slow, lingering death
more to be. dreade , because more painful, than by
drowning.

What chance was there c- our being succored?
This was the question which passed from mouth to
mouth, being the thought paramount in our minds.
Not: much, if any, as common sense told us. Succor
could only come from our comrades on the Flying
Cloud. for the boats we had parted company with
must long since have. returned to the ship. We knew
our shipmates would do what they could to find us—
all that men might. But what could this all amount
to? We were. in the. middle of an ocean, the. grand—
est, widest of the world; for it was the Pacific. An
island of twenty square miles in extent would be
but a s .eck upon it. What then the body of a whale
half su merged, with five human forms clinging to it
like so litany barnacles on the copper-sheeted hull
of a shi ‘3 '0 had enough experience of the sea to
know t at a. vessel with all on board vigilant——
glasses to their eyes—might pass within less than a
league’s distance without one of them sighting us.
It. would depend on the st ate of the weather, and the
clearness of the atmosphere. And just then the
last was all against us; a haze having drifted over
the sea at the. settling down of the short-lived tern-
pest, w ich had proved but a squall.

Our own eyes looking their keenest—no telescopes
to assist them now. that of the mate having gone to
the bottom at the breaking up of our boat—we could
see nothing of ship or sail; only the sea, with its
swell far-rolling around, not blue, as Wr were wont
to behold it, but. of a dull. monotonous gray.

And so Christmas night approached, and came
upon us; never one less merry to five man in close
companionship.

You may suppose we thought how it might have
been celebrated by us on board the Flying Cloud, but
for the. appearng of that huge. monster, on whose.
carcass we were now miserably recliniiig;'\tliat we
reflected on the grand dinner with all its de 'cacies,
which, but for it, we. should have. eaten; on the
wines we would have drunk, on the smoking of
cigars, singing of songs and other pleasant occu m-
tions. If supposing so, you would be mistaken. Ve
neither reflected nor speculated on such possible
pleasures. Our minds were too much occupied with
the danger surrounding, and the dark future before
us. And on that Christmas night, as the sun ,sunk
down over the sea, althcugh all five were hungry as
wolves, and knew that beneath us was a. very moun-
tain of meat, we went to sleep without eating the
smallest morsol of it.

 

CHAPTER XI.
sci-2r AND sAvnn.

‘VF. sle it soundly withal: at least. I can answer
for mysc f. Sheer fatigue of body called for rest of
the mind. and an interval of utter obliviousness.
\thn this ended. and J awoke. I saw that the others
were already stirring. The mate had ascv-nt’lcd lo
the highest point upon the whale, where he stood
with his hand rcstcd against the. signal staff. gazing
off over the- ocean.

We \\‘.‘tlt‘llx-ll him with eager. anxious eyes; his
eager and anxious. too. as he slowly turned his
head round and round, examining the sea on all
sides.

“ I can see nothing,“ he said. at length. “"I‘hcre‘s
ucithcrboal nor ship in sight.”

lie stood till the look of despaii darkcm d over his
Conntcnnncc. thci- canto back down to us.

Taking his place. first one. then another. made
suivcy around. Not with much hopc, but an in
voluntary desire each had to satisfy liiiiiscil‘. We.
knew that the first ci‘liccr oi' the Flying Cloud was
one oi the sharpest~sigl:tcd men among us. and
where in- had tailed to rice b at or ship, lht‘l‘c Was
llill tiltlc probability We should stunned.

Nor (lid “e. l‘lach came Lack below. defeated as
be lead been. ai-uouncim,r it not by words but looks
of dccpcst gloom.

\l'i- \Vl'l'l‘ cvcn hungricr now than on the night be-
fore: still. not t-lll)l‘.,‘.:‘ll to make breakfast on that we
had forbornc Hill]lill;£' upon—the blubbcr. Possibly.
if We had been provided with a fire. or the means of
making one. we should have been less dainty. Then
We could have coolictl a vi'lialc-stcak, palatable
enough, or. at all events. catable on a )inch. But
we were not yet up to cating it raw. u all likeli-
hood we should come to that in lime, and pretty
soon. So reflected we as the hours passed, and the
edge of our appetites grew kecuer.

int we began to suffer from even aworse pain
than hunger—the kindred agony. thirst. It had
already assailcd us on the pl'l‘t‘t‘dlllg day, and at night
was sufficiently afllicting. All the more that on the
(‘hristnias morning, before the whale. chase com-
menced, we had been indulging in double rations of
rum, which was. of course. followed by its natural
consequence of making us doubly thirsty. On this,
the morning after. notone of us on the whale’s body
but would have given all the share he had in the
Flying (‘loud‘s cargo for a pint of the stalesi Write.
in her casks. And as the sun rose higher and
glared hotter down upon us, for so much of this self~
same clement we would have conSentcd to yield up
anything short of life. itself. For our thirst ha!
reached its maximum of pain, as it often dots.
within twenty-four hours—the time depending on a
variety of cirnumstances. In the present case,
nearly all of these were against us: the rain we had
drank willfully; the salt water swallowed against
our will: the excitement we had been under in long-
continucd strain. with the exertions accompanying
it: and lastly the tropic sun coursing through a
cloudless sky over our heads. his fervid beams al-
most burning our bodies—all these causes combined
to produce within us a thirpt, terrible in its interi-
sity.

And there was yet another cause I have not
named—the calm. The storm of the day before at
least kept us cool. and there was enough of breeze
throughout the night to fan our fevered brows, had
we felt. it while asleep. Nothing of that now. The
morning after Christmas dawned upon a sea tran-

uil and smooth, save the swell gradually goin
( own, and which was quite down ere the tour 0
noon. Then the sun‘s beams, hot. as flames, fell
over a surface glistening like molten glaSs, as it the
water itself were on fire.

Something besides, in the calm to make us uncom-
fox-table and unhappy. It had a worse signification
still: the. harquc would be becalmed too, and could
not come to us, even though knowing the direction.

Our misery had arrived at its climax as the sun
reached meridian. For then our thirst. was at the
acme of agony. Some tried to get relief by cutting
out pieces of the. whale‘s blubber. and holding them
to their li s. But to no advantage. The flesh, im-
pregnatw with saline particles, seemed but to in-
crease the (lesire for drink The attempt in each
case ended fruitlessly, as with Tantalus.

We had given up all thought of eating: indeed,
hunger itself had fled from us. That appetite we
knew we could satisfy at any moment, and to a sur
t'eit. If driven to it, we could have. subsisted for
days, weeks, maybe months, upon the mass of meat
beneath us, till it became carrion. But there was
no likelihood of our being forced to such a foul re-
past. Its rcpulsiveness would he s ared us by death
ensuing sooner. Thirst. would kil us longr before
the wlialc’s t’lcsh became putrid. It was killing us
now, or soon would—that, or drive us mad.

“Merciful Heaven i when will our sufferings come
to an end?"

More than once among us was heard this exclama-
tory interrogation. And there were curses as well.
The. sea, the sky, the sun. all came. in for their share
of denunciation; even the birds—the gulls, whose
white wings ever and anon cheated us by their re-
semblance toa distant sail. Twice had this occurred;
each time the tongue that had joyously cried:
“Sail ho!” suddenly changing tone to a half—angry,
half-sad anathema hurled at some tern. or kitti-
wake, innocently plying its craft over the calm sur-
face of the sea.

When, for the third time, we heard the hope-
giving hail. it scarce gave us hope, after twice listen-
ing to that. which had deluded us. Even though it
was Lige Coffin himself who now shouted “Sail!”
and we noted in his eyes, in the whole expression of
his face. almost a surety of it. we were still slow to
believe. But, looking out ourselves, we saw that a
breeze had sprung up, which was a reason for being

   

o

 

less incredulous. So, crowding up around the flag-
staff, we all stood on tiptoe and gazed in the direc-
tion indicated by our officer, straining our eyes to
their utmost.

Sure enough a white speck was observed! no
more the back or win of gull, but canvas well worn
and weather-bleached. A sail—a full set spread
above a slii ), by her rig distinguishable as a barquc,
our own—t le Flying Cloud!

" God be thanked! God be praised I“ were the e:'-
clainatory phrases, with others of like kind, poured
torth as in a volley from five pairs of lips; and, I
think I may say, front live grateful hearts.

Our agony long endured was over, the terrible
tirnc had passed; for we had very little doubt. seeing
the way in which the barque‘s sails were being han-
dled, that they on board had sighted us, or at least
the bitof rcd hunting on our tlagstai‘t‘. \Vitii their
telescopes they could not fail doing so.

Soon we were assured of it, as the Clouds eut—
water, alternately rising and falling, with lit-1‘ bow-
sprit and spread jib sail, was seen standing,r direct
toward us.

No surer were we of delivery, when at. a cable‘s
length she. lay-to, letting down all three of her big-
gest boats.
aboard.
besides, Seeing the dead (-((('/:((/m', aiid knowing.r there,
were a. hundred barrels of best spermaceti inclosed
in its “case.”

One would have been enough to take us ,
But (‘aptam Drinkwater meant business '

We, live unfortuuatcs had other fish to fry than :

troubling our heads further about the whale or its
product. We were onlytoo glad to drop into the
tirst boat that “beached” against its huge. body.
and get rowed to the barque.

l“ecl)ly we climbed up the mairropcs. and stood
tottering upon the deck; then all went otl‘ to the
quarter, where the captain was awaiting its.

‘“ Where‘s Bill?" he. asked. uftrr a hasty suiyey,
seeing only live ofa boat’s crew that had been six.

“lhmrnml,” answered the first oliicer, with his
eye. once more Seeking mine, and su-ming to say,
“11’an that secrel.”

And I kept it as long as helived. Indebted to him
for mv own life, could I do otherwise?

\Velost the cow cue/1010!, as Well as the boat she
had broken, but the old bull proving in realitya
“hundred barreler," completed the Flying Cloud's
cargo. So soon as the oil was trot aboard and
stowed away, having no more business in the Pacific
for that season, we set head liorueward, arriving in
due course at New Bedford.

CHAPTER XII.
THE POLAR BASIN.

POSSIBLY had my first cruise lasted three years, as
a whaling voyage often does, instead of only one, I
might have been cured of my propensity— it‘ not for
a sea life itself, for that particular kind of it. As it
was, I was not yet sated with it. The taste. I had of
it, with but one incident which could claim to be
called an adventure, rather increased my desire to
continue it. That the solitary “ hair-breadth escape
by flood” came near being the end of me. was no
drawback to deter me from again tempting the dan-
gers of the deep. It seemed rather to attract me
back to the place where it had occurred, and thither

I determined on returning—on board the Flying.

Cloud as before.

With some knowledge of seamanship, and my ex-
perience gained as a. whalesman, I had no longer
an difficulty in finding a ship. I could have had

at and choice from a whole fleet of them about
' caving New Bedford for various whaling stations in
the Atlantic, Pacific. and Indian Oceans. But
stuck to my colors, or rather to the old craft, partly
because I had come to like her skipper, kind-hearted,
notwithstanding his dissipated habits. For his dis-
sipation went no further than the drink; in other re-
spects he was a. decent man, a good seamen, brave
as a lion, genial, and generous to a fault. If I liked
not his first officer as well, still I had a sort of friend-
ship for him, or, at all events, gratitude. However
unpleasant it might be to “ remember Bill." I also
remembered, that the man who so cautioned me
had saved my life at the risk of his own, and felt
confident that he would do it again—in the event of
a like danger occurring to me, and he by my side.

Another reason why clung to the F ying Cioud.
On her next cruise, now rojected, she was not going
after (raelzalot ; but to c tame the great “ bowhead,
the. largest of whales, which was said to abound in
what was called the “Polar Basin,”——tliat portion
of the Arctic seas beyond and inside of Behring’s
Straits. This whaling ground had late come into
vogue, with the repute of being the richest in all the
five oceans; and Captain Drinkwater was determined
on giving it a trial. So, soon as the barque had dis-
charged her cargo of sperm oil, and got a fresh
go Lt of paint, with other necessary repairs, we were
off again.

You in 1y be suppOSing that meanwhile I went

. home and paid, as a dutiful son should, respects to

my mother, with all sorts of apologies for my bad, dis-
obedient behavior. I did nothing of the sort; only
wrote her a letter to say I was still alive. and start—
ing on a fresh cruise; giving, as an excuse for my
not coming near her, that the ship was to sail sooner
than I had anticipated. As I afterward discovered,
she had grown somewhat reconciled to what I had
done, and the course of 1i 0 adopted. Pecuniary ad-
versity had come upon her, or at least enough of it
to make her more satisfied that one of her sons
should earn h‘" bread by risking the dangers of the
.sca.

I knew not 0. .aishhowever, when, for the second
time, taking service in a Whaler—not now as an ap-
prentice, but ordinary seamen—and only thought of
She adventures that awaited me beyond Behring‘s

tra ts.

Once more doubling the Horn, and sailing from

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

south to north of the far-stretching Pacific. in due
time we sighted the “Dioinedes Islands," which
stand like grim seiitincls in that gateway leading
into the so-called Arctic cean.

I had been accustomed to associate with the word
“ocean "a sea of limitless extent and almost lili-
t'atlioinable depth. ifut my experience of that part
of the Polar Sea, which belongsto the map of the
western hemisphere, quite, contradicts such an idea.
Once beyond the Straits of Behring and well out on
this so-called ocean, We found it more resembling a
wide sound, with convenient anchorage obtainable
anywhere: its surface. savewlicn stirred by a strong
wind, smooth and waveless as that of an inland
pond! The greatest depth to befound in the "Polar
lizisln" is ridiculously little, compared with sound-
ings in any of the other grand divisions of tlie briiiy
deep. l‘ezhaps in no tart of it does the log line iiccd
letting out beyond tliirty t'atlionis before the lead
touches the bottom.

{finil within the last thirty years geographical
knowledge of the sea beyond Briirin'r's Straits was
of the scanticst and most limited kind. The records
of it lot! by its ill-fated dismivcrer were both vague
and uiisatisl'actory, while for centuries after not
much was aided to them. The short summer cruises
ot (,‘ook, Kotzellllc, and Beechey threw further light
upon the Polar lllsin by way of general knowledge:
but it u as not till the powersol’cupidity were roused
to activity—attracted by the won“ it there discovered
to exist ill the shape of whale blubber. or its pro-
duct, oil-that the world was made more intimately
acquainted with this remote region of the sea‘s
wilderness.

in the year 1848, Captain Roys, master and owner
of the blirquc Superior, carried home to Tay liar-
l)or, the. port whence he had sailed. a cargo of oil
which proved that the “right” or “(treat Green-
laud “ whale could be as profitably chased on the
Pacific side of the American continent as it had
hitherto been in Baffin‘s Bay and the North Atlantic.

The consequence was a rush of wlialers round
(‘ape Ilorn and up to the seas. which on one side
wash the shores of north-western America, and on
the other those of northeastern Asia.

And many a fortune has been made by these early
adventurers; who, cilllt‘i‘ by luck or quickness of
wit, took time, as it were. l»y the forelOck.

CHAPTER XIII.
A wanna on A WIIALE.

IT was on a beautiful summer‘s day in mid‘July,
when the Flying Cloud sailed )ast the Diomedes
and dropped anchor 03‘ lfiast ‘ape, within a few
miles of the land. We were not alone. At least a
dozen other vessels lay around us, all like ourselves
after the bltibber and bone of the “bowhead,” as
the great Polar whale is called in contradistiuction
to the regular “ n'glit " whale; which last is to be
sought for in lower latitudes, between the parallels
of 40 deg. and 60 deg.

It was quite calm when we came to anchor: and
continued so throughout the whole night, if night it
could be called. For inside Behring's Straits, which
are just on the Arctic circle, at this period the sun‘s
disk is never much more than the breadth of its
own diameter below the horizon, and a sort of sub-
dued twilight reigns even at the hour of midnight.
Ordinary print can be read without lamp or candle,
and whales can not only be sighted but successfully
chased, throughout all the twenty- our hours.

From our anchorage we had a view of the Arctic
coast bending away westward~a bleak, sterile
shore. than which nothing could be more cheerless
or forbidding. Numerous patches and “streams”
of loose ice were seen trendni parallel to the shore-
line, far as the eye could reac . But from this no
danger was apprehended, as none of the drifting
pieces were of sufficient size or weight to lnjure a
sound and stoutl '-built vessel such as the Flying
Cloud. Nor was the coast at the time ice-bound; a
considerable space of open water interposing be-
tween the ice—streams and the land. In this art of
the Arctic ocean such ice as the navigator as to
contend against is always low, rising but a few
feet above the water’s surface. It is dangerous
withal, but nothing like that in zither the Greenland
or Antarctic seas. where great “ bergs," often tow-
ering two hundred feet into the air. are encoun-
tered. The reason for their not being met with near
Behring‘s Straits, is obvious. Icebergs, as now gen-
erally admitted, are sinipl ' the ends of glaciers
pushed down into the sea t rough great gorges in
the shore cliffs, and snapped off by t e agitation of
the waves. As a consequence, they cannot exist
around Behring's Straits, where the land is low.
lying, with no: iigh cliffs, nor mountains and their
gorges, to give birth to the glaciers. If there were,
the sea outside is not deep enough to float the huge
fragments. termed icebergs, which th( y might send
into it. True, some are seen rising twenty or thirty
feet abore its surface, but these are nearly always
grounded on the bottom.

During that, our first night spent in the Polar
Basin, we kept a look-out for “ bowlieads ” with the
barque’s boats ready to be dropped at the sight of
one. As we could see, all the other vessels around
us were vigilant as ourselves. But no whales were
sighted by any of us. Wan-uses we could hear roar-
ing and beliowingin—shore, but their bodies were not
visible against the gloomy background of the barren
coas . -

As da ' broke, Captain Drinkwater eager for ac-
tion, or cred “anchor up,” and the barque’s head
set for a point further to the west, where it was
hoped whales might be found. Indeed, as et not a
“ spout " had shown itself over the sea. he other
vessels also drew up their anchors, spread sail, and
sli ped away, each choosing its own course.

aking advantage of alight breeze from the land,
we soon made an offing of about fifteen miles, when

 

 

our skipper. who had meanwhile gone back to his
berth and taken a nap. returned upon deck again.

Alter a turn or two round the capstan, rubbinglds
hands, in evident enjoyment of the fresh bracing air,
he ordered the steward to “bring u l breakfast.”
Then turning to his tirst officer with a ook of beatn-
ing satisfaction. he said:

“Well, Mr. (Hftin. here we are in the great Polar
Basin at last—the \\ ondert‘u] whaling ground. What
do you think of it?”

"so far not much, Cap." drawlcd the son of Nan-
iuckct. “Thardon‘t appear to be much ile about

lClt‘.

“t lh. there‘s plenty. no doubt. What‘ll you bet
We don't s: film a v. hale bct'ore night 2”

"Wall." rejoined tl.c mate, “I don‘t know as I
care to bit (um/mm" gettin‘ one. I‘d rather lay my
stake on l‘otllcr side. Though if 1 did. I‘d be likely
to lose it. The ground just here looks rather dry,
and I guess we‘ll have to go further north before we
s4 c illlkt 

"Not a knot,” exelztiined the captain. triumph-
antly. “ Lock yonder! rl‘h -r<-'s a whale on our
quarter now; though he isn‘t exactly ot' the sort I‘d
like to st e."

As the skipper spoke he pointed to a “filiback”
which we had all, exoept himself. wen dodging
around the baruuz- fort be last halt-hour. but. \\ ithout
taking in It ice it it: this sort of whale being not only
inost dit‘iicult to capture. but scarce worth captai-
ing. Tin-y are to be met with in eveiy part of the
ocean where the keel of ship has penetrated. high
latitudes or low. rm sounditgs or ofi‘. But whales-
men usually pass them by, soon as their species is
identilicd.

“That won't do for a tin/min Cap," quietly ob~
served the mate. “ ll" we put alter it. I guess you‘d
lose your betwsupposin' you made it."

“Never mind, Mr. Collin. We'll stick our har-
poons into blubber before night. and something bet-
tertlian a tinback. But I'm still willing to make the
bet. “'ill you take it 1”

“Oh, I don‘t mind," assented the mate; “what’s
it to be?"

“Bottle of champagne, and box of best Ha-
vanas.“

“ Done!” '

The old hands of the crew, who were near enough
to hear this dialogue, knew very Well that the con-
fidence of .‘aptain Drinkwater . out striking a
whale that day was all mere moo . line and guess-
work—a random prediction based on no definite
data; since none such exist. For the “bowhead "
whale is in its movements most ca widow and tin-
certain. Not the most experienced whalesman can
tell when and whence he will come, or whither go.
To-day everty ship in a whaling fleet may be seen
chasing ant liarpooning them; tomorrow not a
spout is to be sighted all round the horizon; and no
one can predict whether they may turn up again. or
have gone clear away to some other and distant
part- of the great deep, to be met no more that sea,-
son.

Just as the ca tain and his first ofiicer had closed
the bet, a schoo of “killers” was reported b ' the
man at the masthead. These are themselves W ales
of a certain species, easily distinguished by their
long triangular humps, or “topnmst staysails,"
as whalesnien characteristically call them. Their
yield of oil being limited as that of the “finbacks,”
they are only chased when [er/urban is not about.

Soon after the killers came in sight, the Flying
Cloud, still keeping to her course, )assed so near the
“school " that we could have -‘ ga lied" them. . But
neither our captain, nor any one on board, thought
of lowering boats for such small deer. It would
have been deemed a. waste of time. So the Flying
Cloud plowed her way on, looking out for larger

ame.

g' But scarce had we made another cable’s len th,
when we noticed that instead of scattering 0 at
the fright our presence momentarily caused them,
they instantly recovered front it, rallying in our
track astern, confident, and as thickly crowded as
ever.

The cause soon declared itself : several on the
barque‘s deck simultaneously crying out, “She
blows!" as the spout of a large whale was seen as-
cending from the Very midst of the school of killers.

“Down boats!” commanded our captain, at the
Sglllfifilne issuing the necessary directions to “ ’bout
5 l .

1:1) another instant the. Flying Cloud’s crew, hith-
ertolistlessly loun ing about the decks. were leap-
ing “con the. boat avits with the agility of apes.

4-
CHAPI‘ER XIV.
A “MUSCLE-BIGGER" AMONG THE “KILLERS.”

Snonr as was the time occupied in bringing the
barque about, and lowering her boats, We of the
crew saw enough to make us wonder why all this
trouble was being taken. For we recognized the spe-
cies of whale which was sending up its spout, and
knew it to be only a “nuiscle-digger,"—another of
the celuw a which figures under a variety of nameS'
among them “ ripsack ” and “ California gray,” an
is believed to he peculiar to northern latitudes. But
in any case it is a small animal in comparison with
many of its congeners, seeming avery igmy alon -
side either the “polar” or“right” w ale, thong
in general shape resembling these, and, like them,
lacking the hump or rotuberance on the back, er-
roneously called a “ n."

In point of fact no whales have a dorsal fin; the
thin so designated being simply a projection of the
blub er, altogether actionless and immovable. But,
as the shape of this excrescence ororgan, whose use
is unknown, differs in the different is cies, it offers
a good 'de to the experienced W alesman, who
avails himself of it in their identification.

The one now spouting so near showed no “fore-

 

 

    
   
      
    
  
    
  
  
      

 

8

 

topmast stay-sail ” but other characteristics telling .;
0

it to be a ‘musc -digger." And as the Flying

Cloud’s crew knew this sort of whale as yielding an J

oil both inferior in quality and short in quantity—its
bone besides being almostworthless—thcy were sur-
prised at Ca itain Drinkwater having ordered the
ship about. he more from their being aware that
the muscle-digger is one of the shiest and most (lif—
ficult of cetaceans to approach—still more difficult
to capture.

In the present case, however. all this was made
easy for them. Before the boats Could be got into
the water, the spouting ot' the whale had been seen
several times and its blowing heard: the latter at
each fresh respiration giving out a sound different
from that which preceded, til] at length its ring alike
indicated rage and terror. The greenest hand among

us could not be mistaken about the cause: clearly it :

was the “killers,”——a species of grampus. They
were all around, assaultin it on every side, as a.
pack of prairie wolves won (1 a wounded buffalo.

Although we were ourselves on the way to mur- ;

der the whale without mercy, yet the sight of such

odds against it—of its own kind, too, for the killer is ‘

a. true cctacean—atfected us; es )ecially the second
mate, who commanded the boat was in.

“It isn‘t fair play.” cried this young ofi‘lcer, “ and,
by Jovel I’ll pay one of the brutes out for it.”

Saying which, he rose to his feet, and jobbed his
harpoon into a “ killer” that had shown its “ stav-
sail” too close to our boat for its own safety. He
but aimed to give itastab, hoivevcr; and drawing
the weapon back again resumed his seat; when we
quickly rejoined the other boats, our cousorts, and
continued on to the attack of the muscle-digger.

Difficult as this species is to capture in the ordi-
nary way, we saw this one was at our mercy: as it
was captured for us without the necessity of either
pitching harpoon or using lance. Before our boats
got up to it we could see that the killers had well-
nigh completed their work. For the swinging blows
of the muscle-digger’s finkes, delivered right and
left, had become more feeble. with longer intervals
between, while the movements of the body showed
the quivering convulsive action which indicates the
ap roach of death.

ashing up to it, the sight and surging of our boats

scared the killers, sending them otl‘ from their vic-
tim, and it was left to be dealt with by its human
enemy.

On approach we saw it was neither dcad nor sub-
dued yet; and something more must be done ere we
could tow it to the barque. So a couple of harpoons

were launched, their barbs sinking deep into its ‘

body. The result, not as usual, "‘ up tlukes ” and go-
mg under, with no end of line to be let out, and an
anxious watch for its comin I to the surface again.
It was too far gone to go < own, the killers having
disabled it for that; and the next puff from its
spiraclcs, instead of bein clear, salt-water spray,
rose up of a deep red co or—the blood which our
harpoons had set flowing from its most vital veins.

And still the creature was not dead. There were
the last agonies—the “flurry” to come; and well
was it that the two officers who had charge of the at-
tacking boats were aware of this fact.

“Boats off!” they both shouted, simultaneously,
as they saw the harpoons fixed. Not an instant too
soon. For the monster in its death throes struck a
series of murdering blows with its tail which it
seemed still able to wield with the quickness and
elasticit of a. whip-lash.

Lucki v we had got beyond reach of its rapidly vi-

ting fiukes; an could look on in calm confidence
till the convulsive action came to an end. After
which we brought the boats alongside, hooked on,
and bore our prize back with us to the bar ue.

“Now, Mr. Colflnl" triumphant] calle out the

captain, as we were hauling “ ripsac ’ ” into the fiuke- -

chains.
night?"
‘ Wal, Cap,” rejoined Lige, with a contemptuous
glance toward the body of the dead muscle-digger,
‘if you call that awhale you were right. For my
part, I don’t think it desarves the name, an’ it wasn’t
worth the trouble’s been at taken it. All the oil in
its ugly carcass won’t fill three casks."

“Never mind about that,” evasivol returned the
skipper, with a self-satisfied air; “ said a 'll‘halc,
an that’s one—good enough to get me the half of a
bottle of champagne and the whole of a box of best
Havanas. Ha—ha~— a1"

And he chuckled gleefully, the mate makin a
grimace at being taken in, as he verily believed him-
self to have been.

“Suppose we have the wine now I” continued the
captain, in the same tone of joculan‘ty, “just by
wa of commemorating our first whale killed in the
Po ar Basin. And I’ll let you off with the cigars till
we are back at Bedford.” .

“ Oh, all right! I’m agreeable."

“Steward! A bottle of champagne—Chequot.
Charge to Mr. Coffin.”

The silver-necked bottle was soon brought on the
quarter-deck, where it was uncorked, and poured
out into glasses; all the officers of the barque being
invited to partake of it. But the captain being in
good humor with himself that morning, an extra
ration of rum all round was served out to the crew,
as he told them, by way of baptizing the Polar Basin.

CHAPTER XV. I
IA BABY WALRUS.
JUST as we had finished tossing off the drinks, a

“ Didn’t I tell you we’d get a whale before

herd of walrus made its appearance quite close to ;

the ship; these curious cetaceans, as thev rose to the
surface givin out a. guttural roar, altogether unlike
anything in t 9 way of sound I had ever heard, or
wi h which I could com are it. Head after head

came po ping up, till at east fifty were above wa-

ter'- eac adding its groan to the general chorus,

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

when the noise became positively terrific. Then they
separated into several rroups, extending in a circle
around the barque, ant witha menacing air, as if
they meant making an attack on her!

“ Suppose we pitch into them 2" suggested Mr.
Ransom, the second mate, an ambitious youn offl-
cer keen for action. “May we, sir?” he aske , ad-
dressing himself to the captain.

“ Certainly, if you want. to,” con0eded his superior,
entering into the spirit of the sport. her the walrus
is never hunted by Whalers save for amusement, or
in default of bigger and more valuable tame. “ Go
aheadand distinguish yourselfi" jocular y added the
ski lpcr: “you’ll never have a better chance. ”

V 'c were soon back into the boats, which were still
on the water, around the dead muscle-digger. Seiz-
ing the, ours, we turned "face to the 1nu>ic,"and
shot straight and swift for the largest clump of the
“seahorses.”

As we rowed toward thorn other groups joined the
one aimed at, until nearly all Were again together,
huddled in a cltye herd. We expccli d to see them
“ sound ” or take flight. Instead, they courageously
stood their ground, their heads elevated high in air,
all grunting angril . Their long white teeth con-
trasting with the ark color of their muzzlcs, im—
parting to them a most formidable appearance.
Nor wen- thcy to he made light of; as the walrus, 0r
"MING, as sometimes called, is a most dangerous an-
tagonist, especially to nll‘ll approaching as we were
in an ordinary ship‘s boat.

“Drive the iron into that big fellow," called out
Mr. Ransom, to his boat-steerer, poiutim: to one
which seenu-d the largest of the lot, on old hull.

At the word away went the harpoon, plunging
(lmp into the sea-horse‘s side, where it stuck. There
was a short jerk u )011 the line; we “snubbed ” it
hard, and‘ held on all.

At the stroke a thick jet of blood gushed out over
the water, and the walrus went under, all the others
disappearing suddenly, and as if by magic! But the
fellow we had fixed and Wore holding on to our line,
instantly rose to the surface again; and uttering a
defiant growl, till‘llt‘tl upon us and showed fight.

Just then we could not help noticing how pcr-
foctl the offensive armor of this animal is adapted
for t as capsizing of a boat. Its huge tusks in their
downward course once hooked over the gunwale,
with the weight of its huge body bearing upon it,
and the largest boat nust go boltom upward.

The wounded wa rus seemed itself thoroughly
conscious of this, in its assaults raising its head
aloft, then rapidly lowering it, sec-saw fashion, like
a man in the act of sneezing—its object evidentl to
grapple onto the gunwalc. But before it conh ef-
fect its iurposc, Mr. Ransom, poising his whale
spade, in ictcd a drop gash in its throat, at which it
again went under water, disappearing beneath a pool
of its own blood.

We took it for granted it was now mortally
wounded, and could feel it whirling and struggling
upon the line, which for a time was kept taut. But
at length the tension became relaxed, as we im-
agined because of the walrus being dead. So we
pulled in—to see at the line‘s end only the pole.
socket, and a small portion of the harpoon's shankl
The ten h blade of iron had actually been twisted
off by t 1e writhing rotatory motion of the beast
while struggling in its throes—and we saw no more
of that sea-horse! '

But the herd still remained near, and their heads
were now once more above water, all bellowing as
before; At our next assault u on them we had bet-
ter success, and secured a. arge “ cow,” as the
Whalers call the female walrus—though by their
alias of sea-horse, it might more a propriately be
namedamare. Each of the other oats, for they
were all in chase, captured one as well. ’

But to none occurred an incident as that attend—
ing ours, thoule all were witness to it; and a more
aficcting scene I cannot remember. As we. took a
turn at the “loggerhead ” with the short warp for
towing our capture to the ship, a diminutive walrus,
evidently a sucking calf, or foal if you prefer it,
unseen till now, suddenly made its appearance by
the side of the slaughtered cow. There could be no
mistaking the fact that she was, or had been, its
mother. Its actions )roved the. maternity, as it
swam round and mum her, uttering plaintive’cries
just:] as a lamb would bleat beside the dead body of
its am.

Rough whalesmen as were the spectators of this
tragedy of the sea, not one of them but was nigh
shedding tears; and I need not add, few thought of
pitching lance or harpoon at the little nursling. To

ave killed the creature then would have seemed
rank murder, and somethin r more.

When the body of its mot er, attached to the bar-

oon line became stretched out horizontally, lay our

oat ma ing headway, it crawled up to, and sat
perched upon, it; and was thus towed on to the ship’s
side the whole of the way, at intervals giving out its
piteous infantile moan. Even after the line was
taken aboard and hauled up short, it instinctiver
clung to the carcass, every now and then upturnng
its eyes to the murderers of its mother; w 10, gath-
ered in the ship‘s waist, looked down upon it, the
countenance-s of all expressing the pity it seemed to
claim from them.

For a time there was no movement made on the
deck of the Flying Cloud, her crew standing silent,
as men around a coffin about being lowered into the
grave. You will scarce give me credit when I tell
you that I saw tears tricklin down more than one
weather-beaten cheek. An it was as though a
bombshell had ex lodcd~in our midst, when a heart-
less fellow—I am "appy to say there were not many
of his kind in that crew—cried out:

“Pitch a harpoonintothe pupand haul it aboar E"

This was done, nevertheless, the catain himself
commanding it. But from mollveso compassion,

 

 

  

 

not cruelty. Mercy called for the sacrifice; for
without its mother the little creature must have died
a slower and more painful death.

CHAPTER XVI.
A nnsuar snoan.

To our disappointn‘ient, and somewhat to Captain
Drinkwatm-‘s surprise, we worked for weeks in the
Polar Basin without doing any great stroke of busi-
ness in the way of getting whale-oil. Instead of the
“ bow-heads “ being in plenty, as we had expected,
to find them, they were unusually scarce. The cause
of this no doubt was, that in the preceding season
they had been much chased; the repute of the place,
that had for some time been abroad, having of late
years drawn thither quite a fleet or whaling Vessels.
And» as during this same season it was increased,
rather than diminished, such whales as showed spout
were at once set after by the nearest ship; so that
the Scare among the, twain '7. in that quarter, rc—
newed and constantly kept up, made them shyerand
Ilmi‘c wary than ever.

We had begun to despair of getting a full cargo;
and returning to New Bedford wilh an empty vessel,
or one but half-full, is a humiliation no whalcsman
likes to undergo. The fear of it was not alone con-
fined to our skip er, but affected the whole crew.

in this state 0 mind we had been for days beating
along the Siberian coast, not far from Ca 'ie North,
and within sight of land. but still out of sit.r it of “le-
viathan.” when Mr. Ransom, whom I have already
described as an ambitious young officer, approach-
ing thebaprnin. said:

“Don‘t you think, sir, we might go in with the
boats, and have a search along s oro?

“Yes,” answered the captain, dubiously, as he
turned his eyes shorcward. “ lint do you think you
can {/61 in? It looks as if there wasn’t a crack to
S( ueezo through. “

1He spoke ofthcico, a “ stream" of which extended
parallel to the shore far as the eye could reach. It
was dr‘r‘l ice, having awidth of between one and
two mi cs, with a Rilll wider list of open water be-
tween it and the land. Loose, too, the stream was‘
the ‘)icccs composing it being of moderate size, and
not argc enough to endanger a ship. With a. fair
working breeze the Flying Cloud might have safely
stood through it, and no doubt would, had her cap-
tain been sure there was anything on the inshore
side to make the risk worth running. But as the
telescope leveled in that direction discovered no
spout of whale, it was voted “ barren ground," or,
at all events unlikely to be a lay for bow-heads. The
second mate, however, seemed of a different opinion.

“I've just come down from the masthead,” he
urged. “ There’s a good breadth of open water in-
shore, and looks deep enough for any sort of whale.
Besides, I noticed several breaks in thoice, where a.
boat might work through safe enough in weather
like this."

It was dead calm, with scarce a ripple on the. sea.

“All right, Mr. Ransom,"at length cheerin as-
sented his superior. “Go ahead! If you think
there‘s any chance of finding a whale in yonder,
wh , find i . There’s nothin like trying.”

This brief dialogue on the quarter-deck ended in
an order for the barque’s three boats, instead of only
one, being lowered; the three mates to take com-
mand of them—the captain himself the only officer
to remain aboard. So off we all pulled, leading
straight for the low-lgng land.

We had no great di culty in getting through the
ice. Had there been a strong wind blowing, or even
a fresh breeze, it might have been difficult and risky
enou 'h. But, as I have said, it was perfectly calm,
and t e blocks of no great bulk or weight; so that,
even .where the" lay close to r ther, we could push
them apart with a boat-booth, and pass safely be.
tween. Besides, there were wide reaches here and
there, alto ether free of ice, one of them running
transverse o the stream and quite acrossit-. Throu
this we went in at a. quick rat“. and without any in—
terruption.

Soon as inside, the boats became separated, each
taking its own courSe to search for “bow-heads.”
Had there been any such near we, could. not have
failed to find them. The water was as smooth as a
swan-pond, and the plunging of a gull might have
been seen miles off. Many gulls we saw, but no
spout from the spiracles of a cctacean.

We rowed on along shore, till about the hour of
noon, our eyes ungratified b the sight of a whale,
save two or three small “fin lacks.” But these we
did not look upon as foes worthy of our steel, and
even if we had, they were so shy no boat could ap.
proach them within striking distance.

“There don‘t appear to be a. bow-head about,"
said Mr. Ransom, despondingly. “So, let’s put
ashore and eat dinner,” he added, bringing the
boat‘s head round; and a. few seconds after we shot
her bow onto the beach.

Having made the craft secure, we icked out the
dryest spot, for it was nearl all wet, oggy rround;
and, sitting down, discusse our mid-day meal. No
great variet of dishes, since it consisted of “hard
tack” bisc ts, and “bovine mahogany,” as whales-
men jocularly call the beef provided for them. We
had brought along a ration already cooked. so that
there was no need for kindling a fire.

An oblong bid or ridge rose over the spot where
we made our bivouac; and, after finishing our frugal
repast, Mr. Ransom started to ascend it, taking me
with him. His object was to get a view of the open
water along shore, and see whether there were any
whales in it.

Climbing up the bill was anything but easy .
though the slope was of the gentlest; forthe groun
was soft and wet, its surface consisting of little ‘
soggy turf—knolls, standing apart, the spaces be—-
tween beinablack mud, on which we dared not trust. 1.
our feet. 0 could only plant them in the grass—

 

 

   

 

  

9.

 

 

 

wn hummocks, and even out of these the water
squirted at every step we took as from so many
unrated sponges. Around us, the snow, but par-
tially melted, la in patches, impartin to the land-
sca achill an' cheerless aspect. At est of tunes
an seasons it is anything but an agreeable count ;
and this being our first tour in the territory of e
Czar our impressions of it were almost as unfavora-
ble as those the French must have received in their
famous raid upon Moscow.

CHAPTER XVII.
A WKALE “wnzxmo.”

Mums from knoll to kH'I-l, Mr. Ransom led up
the slope; I literally following In his footsteps, since
I saw that he chose the flrmest on our line of march.
At length as his head rose to the level of the bill’s
top he suddenly came to a stand, motioning to me
to o likewise.

“Keep quiet l” he said, in a half-whis er. “ Come
up here, and you‘ll see something wort 1 seeing.”

I obeyed, and slipped up beside him. To note.
first that what we had mistaken for tho combing of
a ri ge was the crest of a clilf which overhux the
sea. There was another and twin cliff direct y 01)-
posite, and between the two a narrow strait or neck
of water, opening into a little bay, rock-bound all
around. It was nothing of this however, the second
mate had called me up to see. instcad,an enormous
whale—a bow-Vad—judging by its dimensions at
least an “ eighoy- barreler, ’ which occupied the
cove. [t was lying at rest, its back high above the
surface, and near the entrance to the inlet. as
though guarding it. As the water was perfectly
calm, and so clear we could distinguish she Is at the
bottom, though several fathoms deep, the body of
the bow-head, in all its shapes and proportions, was
outlined under our eyes, as if within the glass tank
of an aquariuml We saw it was a bull. and one of
thelurgest sizc——in all likelihood a hundred years
old. as could be told by its grand “arch.” and the
broad watches of white around the spout-holes. As
we loo {0d down into these—for our position on the
cliff cuablcd us to do so~—we could sec thorn at- in-
tervals opening and closing, or “ winking ” in whale-
mau's phrase; a curious sight, which even the oldest
bl:l‘~‘~'-r-liunter cannot say he has often witnessed.

" l ilk-\t‘l' saw the like before," nmttcrcd Mr. Ran-
spri. as we stood regarding it: “ nor evvr had a

 

wi ult- so “'0” under my cycs—lhat is a live one—
tliough I've bcen chasing them since 1 was a bit of a
boy. Look at the old bull, how he is behaving! He

sm‘ms to be enjoying himself mightily.”

And so he certainly did. There Izzy the gigantic
creature, basking in the clear, still water just as a
diminutive trout or gold-fish might be seen in an arti-
ficial pond. For all differing from either in some-
thing besides size; since every now and then the
stillness around was broken b this deep slow res-
pirations, as the breath of 11s huge ody was
belched up through his spiracle-s. Now and then,
also,he gave a. flap of his immense tail, as if in sheer
sportiuess, its broad flukes scaling from ri ht to
left, and rim ‘LW'MI, causing a commotion in t e wa-
ter as if from the paddles of a Stern-wheel steamer.

In silence we stood watching him and his move-
ments for a lon while, though still not satisfied.
As professional w alesmen it was a sight we should
not have soon tired of. Nor was it cut short by us,
but through an incident unexpected, itself a curious
one. Cutting the cliff opposite was a ravine or
gorge, which we had noticed as being choke-full of
ice—in short, containing a sort of miniature lacier.
The hot meridian sun—for it was hot ,notwit stand-
ing the snow around -seemcd to have affected the
glacier so far melting it that the lower end snapped
off, and came down with a plunge into the tranquil
cove. A thundering crash, too which sent the wa-
ter off before it in a grand circling edd , like the sea
swell after a storm. The bow-head di not abide its
a proach; soundingat the first crackle heard as the
g acier gave way. at instead of going under in the
usual orthodox fashion, we noticed that he went
down b a gradual slant showing him well ac-
quainte With that cove, where the depth of the wa-
ter would not admit of his “ taming flukes.”

Tho h much interested in the rare and curious
spectac e of which we had been witness, the second
mate of the Flying Cloud was not forgetful of the
dut he owed to his ship and her owners. So, soon
as t ie berg broke cit. and the whale went under, he
turned back to the place of our bivouac I of course,
with him, both going down the hill much faster than
we had ascended it.

“To the boatl” he cried out to our comrades, as
We made approach to them. “Quick! gather up,
and bring everything along with you.”

As there were not many thin s to be gathered up,
we were soon once more in t e boatpeach on his
own thwart, and grasping the car that belonged to

in.
Ten minutes" rowing brought us round to the en-
trance of the bay,in which we had observed the
bow-head. But although we approached the place
with utmost caution, silently as though our cars
were mauled-for we took care to make no noise in
t arowlocks—we could see no bow-head nor whale
of any kind. And after layin to for nearly an
hour. all the time carefully watc g the surface of
the cave, as that of the sea outside, we saw no spout,
notso much use ri pic on the surface. The berg
broken from the g ier was there, slowly floating
o! from the chi! it had forsaken, with a motion
barely Perceptible. the water around havin re-
gained ts placidity. But where was leviathan
No one could answer this ueetion, which was a
e to some of us—the ju ors in the boat. Not
so, however, to the steerer. an old hand; nor yet to
Ir. Ransom himself. who, though young in years,

The Chase of Leviathan.

there,” was the dictum of the boatsteerer, after we
had watched to the end of our atience. “ An‘
there‘s no knowin‘ how lon_ it may 'eep under," he
continued, with a disconso ate look: “supposin’ it
to be a how-head. You’re sure it was that, Sir?"

The question which was addressed to the young
officer rather irritated him, as casting a doubt on
his professional capabilities.

“ Am I sure that my name‘s Ransom?" he sharply
to oined. “ Of course it was a bow-head.“

‘Beg your pardon, sir,” said the boat-steerer,
seeing he had committed himself. “But I didn’t
kpow you‘d had a fair si ht o’ the fish. Bein‘ a bow-
head, then there‘s no te lin’ how long he‘ll stay be-
low. Them sort can stick to the bottom, same as
crabs or ground-sharks. "

“Put the boat about!" commanded Mr. Ransom,
still seeming a little vexed, despite the steerer‘s de-
tailed explanation. “ It‘s no use hanging about here
any longer. Let’s look up the other boats, and get
back to the barque."

Heading once more to the open water, we were
soon alongside the boats of the first and third mates;
the former, as senior in rank, having set his -" waif "
as a signal for us to rejoin him.

CHAPTER XVIII.
NEARLY “sippsn.”

Mn. RANSOM was a g00d deal out of sorts at our
non-success. the more from having himself counsel-
ed the search, which had proved bootless. But if it
could be any consolation to him, on getting along—
side the othcr boats we learnt that neither of them
had been a whit more fortunate than ourselves. In
a we not as much; we had seen a hurl/rad, while
they ad only fallen in with a jinback, which they
did not deem worth chasing.

It was not his failure to find a whale, however,
that had brought the dark Cloud upon Lige Coffin‘s
brow, with a look of nervous anxiety into his eyes,
which we observed on rejoining him. This was due
to a cause now palpable to all of us. A change had
taken place in t 0 Sky, which had become overcast,
while a breeze that had sprung u to eastward was
beginning to blow along shore, a ready rippling the
hitherto tranquil surface of the sea.

The barqnc was quite visible out in the oiling, but
between her and us extended the ice-stream of more
than two miles‘ width. If the breeze should come to
be a blow. or even freshen much i‘urthr-r, we. might
have a diiliculty in making our way back through it,
to say nothing of the danger.

To make matters worse it had got to be late, the
sun nigh down, and——still another ugly look-out for
us—a haze had begun to gather over both the ice-
field and the open water. As yet it was only a thin
film, but there was every sign of it thickening, for to
windward it appeared denser already.

“I don‘t like the look of things, any way.” re-
marked the first mate, in his grave, lugubrious voice,
as the three boats drew in to ether. “ We can see
the bark now, but if that 0g ifts down on her we
Ina 'n’t much longer.”

e was gazing up wind, when, suddenly turning,
he added. in a more lively tone:

“Well, if we calculate sleeping on board of the
Cloud this night we’ve got to make quick work.
Oars, give way! Pull ahead!”

The crews of the other two boats taking the order
as c ually meant for themselves, all three started
toget er, in a direct pull for the ice belt. But the
first mate’s boat being the fastest for ed ahead of

the others, and was well into the field fore either
of them got u to its edge.
As we coul not he] noting, the ice had avery

different look now. T e loose blocks, agitated by
the breeze, had begun to move and drift along, press-
ing and grinding against one another; so that the
least experienced of us in Arctic navigation could
tell that passage through it would be dangerous.
There was no help for it, however, but to keep on,
or turn and make back to the shore.

Of course, we had no thought of doing the last; so
heading into the channel, which had been taken by
the first omcer’s boat, we made all haste after. Our
boat was second, and in its wake, at about an car’s
distance, followed that in charge of the third mate,
Mr. Grover.

For some three or four cables‘ length we got alon
well enough. But then the channel narrowed, an
seemed as if it would close quite up. The loose ice-
blocks detached from the windward side were en—
croaching on the open water; for, in addition to the
impulse given them by the breeze, the were cyl-
dently acted upon by an under-current, t at carried
them along, as the h down a. sharp-flowing stream.
This we could tell y the beari s of the barque,
that were constantly changing. t first starting for
her. she was directly in front of the open list, and so
right ahead of us. But now she agipeared on our
larboard bow, and was still falling o , or rather was
it our boats drifting awe from her. or course. we
knew this, and were all c more apprehensive as to
our situation.

“ What do you think about it i” asked the second
mate, leaninfiggund and speaking back to Mr. Grover
in the other t.

“That we’re in a tamationed fix," was the not
very encouraging reply; the less so from our know-
ing the third officer, a veteran “ blubber-hunter," to
be a man not given to despondinz.

“ I can see that for myself,” rejoined Ransom.
“ But what had we better do?"

“Wal; the best thin we can do is to get out 0'
this ice soon as possi le—an‘ by the shortest cut
we kin take.”

“ That means to put about, and row back to land.
We’re not half-way across the field, yet—not near.”

This caused all to turn their eyes a ternutely land-

 

I“ oldin w e rlence.
“Til whale must ave gone below and stayed

but barely visible through the fog, which had in the
meantime become more dense; while the first mate’s
boat could inst be discerned as a speck near the
outer edge 0 the ice stream, and seemingly sure of
dentin lI.

But i ere was no likelihood of our being able to do
so—not the smallest chance of it. More than a mile
of the ugly obstructio Still stretched between us
and the open water, an we could see that near the
chin the channel was now as good as closed against
us. ven at the clot we had reached, it had nar-
rowed till the ice- locks began to interfere with the
play of our oars, one every now and then getting
se arated from the field, and bumping against the
si es of our boats.

Simultaneously the car stroke on both was sus-
pended, and for a few seconds held so, while the two
officers, standing up, looked either way, as if bal-
ancing in their minds whether it should he “ ship or
shore. ” But there wasno choice now. Any chance for
us to reach the oiling hitherto, if such had been, was
instantly cut off by the view seaward becoming alto-
gether obscured. The fog hid it: a heavy bank
brought down by the breeze, tumbling and rolling
along the surface of the ice-field, as smoke from a.
forest on fire. Simultaneously it shut off the first
mate’s boat and barquc from our sight, though that
mattered little now. Even if still in view, to reach
them had become absolutely im ossible.
“Layround Mr. Grover!" cal cd out the second
mat-e, at length deciding to turn back. “ Let’s pull
for theshore. It’s our only be e for safety."

There was no opposition to t e order, nor'delay in
the execution of t. The old whalesman had him-
self already counselcd it as the best course; so about
went lboth craft in scarce enough of Seaway to bring
I‘Ollll( .

Of course, the movement brought the third mate‘s
boat into the lead, and we kept close in her wake;
so close, We could at any time have chucked a his-
cuit into her. For all this, the bit of open water be-
tween the two was in places so narrow, and kept
further narrowing, that several times we were in
danger of getting “ steel-trapped,” as the men fa-
cetionsly termed it. But not at the time; just then
we had something else to think of than jesting, and
we were in no mood for merriment. All knew that
our peril was extreme; for if boatless. and thrown
amid the moving ice-field, it would surely carry us
to destruction.

As it was, we were every now and then compelled
to spring out upon it, and stamp off its sharp edges
with our boot-hecLs to open a passage for the boats.
And once we were actually obliged to grasp ours by
the gunwales, lift her bodily out of the water, and
run her. sleigh-fashion, over a broad fragment which
had completely blocked up the channel.

It was no child’s play getting back to the Siberian
shore; we had wor enough to do, and suflicient of
danger in ‘the doing it. But it was to do or die. as
we all too well know; for the boats once cashed,
ourlives would not be worth continuing the strug-
gle for. There was but a bit of cedar board, scarce
half an inch thick, between us and eternityl

For nigh another half-mile we had to carry on our
conflict with the ice; an element whalesme- have
often to contend with, and hold in as much dread as
either wind or water. But we were victorious,
though not without receiving wounds; at least our
boats did, the frail structures sustaining much dam-
age from the she -edged ice. Still by bailng, we
were able to keep t em afloat: and at length reached
the belt of open water in-shore, across which we
pulled directly landward, with lighter hearts.

We had lately parted from that land, deeming it
hateful and inhospitable, as it was barren and deso-
late. But now returning to it, with a vivid idea of
the dangers just orgone, it seemed to us a very
desirable land inde *d, i not one "flowing with milk
and honey.”

 

CHAPTER XIX.
A com CAMPING-GROUND.

As we losed in upon the shore, our eyes were on
the alert for the place where we had landed before, as
it was excellent caching-ground; but no such spot
was in sight! This, to our astonishment, at first;
tho h a moment’s reflection explained its invisibil-
 6 had been all the while moving westward
a ong the coast, as the drift-ice carried us, and we
were now miles from our former landin ground.
Except that we must have also lengthen our dis-
tance‘ from the ship, it mattered little: so, (pulling
in to the shore, we beached our boats an made
them last to moorings.

It was now so near dead darkness, we had bcely
time to choose a lace for our camp; our choice be-
ing limited to fin ing one dry enough to lie down in.
No easy task either; since here, as elsewhere, the
gro d was sodden with water—almost a swamp.

A tor treading about for a time among the tus-
socks our hes. whaling-boots squeezing the juice
out of them as romtoranges, we came upon a atch
that lay higher, and was comparatively dry. A rge
rock'guided us to it, the onlyl thing in the shape of
stone to be seen, inland of t e beachitself. A huge
mass it was—evidentl an erratic bowlder—with per-

endicular sides an t top somewhat like a pc-

estal on which it w intended to lace a watue.
It stood centrallyKon the lit e evation, with
enough of firm, dr soil around it to afford sleeping
room at full stretc for our whole party.

There was no finestion of kindling a the; we had
not the fuel tori , unless 2y burning either our one
or the shafts of our wh aspects. Neither was it
needed for cooking purposes, since we had nothing
to cook. Hav' started out with but food supply
for the day, and his already drawn upon almost to
exhaustion, the on] eatable article left as was the

 

ward and seaward, we at the cars glancin anxiously
over our shoulders. The barque was st ll in sight.

 

reserve stock of bscuits can-led in the“1antoru-
keg" of every whale-boat when on active scuba.

 

  

 

 

10

Unluckin this was found even more limited than
is usual, and gave each of us but a bite. So for that
night,- our bill of fare. was not only strict felon‘s dict
—bread and \\'ater-—b11t famine rations to boot.

We had other discomforts beside»: hunger, and far
greater ones. Not for a moment innuririug we

ri‘he Chase of Leviathan.

 both barrels, right and left, at the two old bears,

gum have to pass the. night on shore, or elsewhere ;
save in our snug bunks. we were, of course, without ;
a stitch of bed-clothing, not even having brought .
our top—coats.’ And just as if it knew we werctbus .
unprovitied and had a. special spite against, us, the ‘

wind blew a keen north-easter that penetrated to
the very marrow of our bones. So chill and cutting
wasit, that we began to think of tearing the. thwarts
out of our boats and converting them into firewood.
There was a proposal to do so; and I verily believe
it would have been carried into effect but for the oc-
currcnce of an incident which drew our minds awa'
from it, for the time making us forgetful of both
cold or hunger.

It was long after midnight, and still not a man of
us asleep. Sleep was out of the question while
shivering till our teeth rattled like castani-ts. We
all lay awake, those of us that Were lyingdown; but
most were afoot on the ice side of the. rock, stamp-
ing and dancing about to keep their toes from get-
ting frost-bitten. Talking, too, of their empty
stomachs, and speculating on what sort of food
might turn up for us in the morning.

“ Ye needn‘t be calc‘latin’ on any, boys, "_ observed
old Grover, who had seen something of Siberia be-
fore. 3‘ Thar ain‘t a thing ’lortg this God-forsaken
shore, eyther anymal or vegital, thet.‘s eatablc; even
the beach, bare as ye see it, hain‘t hardly so much as
a scuttle-shell. The only livin’ critter worth speakin’
o‘, I ever see’d this part 0’ Siberia, war b‘ars o’ the
Polar specie. In places them‘s plenty enough;
though what they get to grub on be a myst‘ry to
me.

“I wish one would come this way now,” put in a
young blubber-hunter, who was as hungry as a wolf.

" Why d‘ye wish that .9" asked another.

“ Wbyl To give us a bit of bear-ham for sup er;
or breakfast, as we might almost call it now. hat
would be better worth while breaking up the boats'
thwarts for. But, by jollys! I, for one, shouldn‘t
much care. about its being cooked. I‘m sharp-set
enough to eat a. bear raw; ay, the whole of one to
m_ 'self."

‘If he didn’t first eat you," returned the third
mate, with some sarcasm of tone, for the young
whalesman was given to loose talking. “ It's cl’ar,
'oungster, you don’t know much ’bout the Sybeerian

an or ye w‘u’dn’t be so weeshful to make close ac-

uaintance wi‘ that four-footed critter. Hishtl

hat‘s the bark of one now. It is, by the livih’ Le-
viathan!”

At the first cautionary exclamation all had become
silent, listening intent! . To hear a. sound, half-
snort, half-grunt, yet still unlike either; a sound 8m?
generic, which would have uzzlcd the greenhorns
of us, new to Arctic seas, ut for the old bands,
who at once pronounced it the “ sniff ” of the Polar

ar.

The night was anything but dark now, the moon
having just arisen; and we could see clearly over a
wide circle around us, but nothing that looked like
bear or other quadruped. Possibly, had the plain
been free of snow it would have been different. For
this, partially thawed, lay in humps and patches,
giving the ground a zebra-striped apfiearance, which
made it more difficult to distinguis articular ob-
jects; and all the evidence we had 0 living thing
near was that singular sound heard at short inter-
vals, as of some one approaching who was troubled
with a cold in itsincipicnt stages, half-sneezing, half-
coughing.

“It‘s a bar, sure!" reaffirmed the third mate.
“Two, by goshl" he hastily added, after a. few
seconds given to examining the snow-fleckcd sur-
face. “The he an’she for sartin! An‘i 0d I‘ot me
of thar ain’t a cub trottin’ at thar heels! They‘re
comin’ this way tool Now, boys, we’ve got to look
out for squalls! If they mean mischief it’ll be a. case
0‘ thunder an’ I' htnin ." °

By this we all tad got sight of the two bears with
their cub. for they were now so close as to be easily
made out under the clear moonlight. We could see,
too, they were not straying about, but making
toward us in astrai ht line, as if on a scent. As
we wore to windwar of them, it was evidently our-
selves the scented—~proof that they did mean mis-
chief, as rover had put it.

It was but a question of what we shoald do, with
scanty time allowed to answer it. A double-barreled
shot-gun, belonging to Mr. Ransom, was all the fire-
arm we had wit us; the only other wen on of any

sort inga Whale-spear which the thirt mate had
brou 1; up from his boat, more as a walking-staff
to be him through the treacherous quagmire than

aught else. In truth, we were not much better pre-
rod to repel an attack of Polar bears than would

ve lacen so, many children playing 1n 8. school-

gronm . .

F‘hding ourselves thus helpless, our first thought
was of retreat—of course, back to the boats. But,
by sinister chance, that was the very direction in
which the bears were up roaching; for they, too,
had come up from the be ch. To attempt passing
them would be to run ri ht int their jaws.

For awhile we stood rresolu e, riot a man of us
knowing what to do, though all full , keenly con-
scious of or. In fact, we regar ed it as una-
voidable, and t at some of us would like enough fall
victims to the well-known ferocity of the brutes ud-
vuwing uson us. For in a retreat Over such ground
they coul easily yertake us. And in that moment
of luduidon, as ll-luck wuuld have it, we did the
very thin e ought not to have done; or, rather,
I! hon-o didit torus.

akin; to stop their advance, he discharged

 

giving each its share of the shot; but as the run had
been loaded for ducl. s, he mi rht as we 1 have
squirted water at them, or firei blank cartridge.
Indeed, far better: since the effect was just as
should have been expected. The shot stung the ani-'
mails to fury, which, added to their carnivorous in-
stincts, hastenedthen-approach; andthcy now came
on at a rush, screaming with rage and pain.

We were about to scatter off in a .e/rmv qui pm!
flight, which would hav. saved some, but not all of
us, when a voice was board vo"il'eratin;,r:

“ Up to the rock, boys! ‘v'e‘ll be safe. there l“

It was old (it-over who had ci-hceivcd the ha py
idea—as we allknewit to be—lte alone. remem er-
ing what the rest of us in our fright had forgotten.
Before settling oursiivrs for the night, several had
climbed to the to of the bowlder by a sloping, zig-
zag ledge, the. only way its summit could be reached.

Needless to say We caught the hint, and ascended,
quick as ever cotuitrv hi ty swarmed up tree from the
horns of a furious bu 1'. But i‘. was “nip and tuck ”
with us; hr the she bear, seemingly far the fiercest,
was close upon our heels. Grover himself, however,
guarded our rear; and jobbjng the enraged brute
with his whale-spur somewhere about the jaws,
made her think betth of it, and for the time con-
tented to stay below.

CHAPTER XX.
TIESIEGE!) nv BEARS.

WHEN we were. all upon the rock, feeling ourselves
safe, and thinking how near it had been to the op-
posite, we could not resist a cheer of mutual con-
gratulation. A true whalesman’s let/22a was sent up;
such as likely nth before woke the echoes of that
solitary shore. We were even more uplifted than
after our escape from the ice “nip,” for that had
been but a probable danger, while this, for awhile,
seemed certain~at least to one or other of us. '

But soon our thoughts underwent a. change. for
the worse again. We had been “hollering” while
still in the woods, find not yet out of the. “bean
scrape”——anything but that. Looking below, we
could see the brutes moving about there, but evi~
dently without intention to take departure. They
were circling around the rock, uttering angr '
snorts, now and then turning their snouts upwart ,
the hot breath from their open mouths and nostrils
ascending on the frosty air as smoke from the fun-
nel of a steam-engine.

We had no fear of their being able to mount the
bowlder, even should they attempt it. For Grover,
with his rcdoubtable Spear, stOod sentry at its only
scalable point. But what of. that? What was to
bethc upshot? This was the question, which in a
short while arose to trouble. us.

And more the older ones of our party than the
younger. We, the " greenhorns,” but little ac-
quainted with the Polar bear and its nature, were
loth to believe it the formidable monster our third
mate had represented. We were soon to know,
however, that it is not only naturally fierce, but
when angered, implacable in its rage. As its con-
gener, the “grizzly ” of the Rocky Mountains, when
wounded it will assail the enemy who has injured it,
regardless of results; and, if foiled in obtaining im-
mediate vengeance, will wait days for it, in sullen
determinelness.

But without the knowledge of this, we had enough
otherwise to disconcert and discomfort us. There
were in all twelve, comprising the two boats’ crews,
and the flat top of the rock was not over twice as
many square feet in su erficial area. As a conse-

uence, we had to stani upright, crowded together
t ick as sheep in a market-pen.

We were hungry, too; some keen] so. For, as a
rule, whaling vessels are well provnsioned, and the
stomachs o ’whalesmcn unaccustomed to being
empty; whicn made us feel hunger all the more.
But our sufferings from this source were triflingi
compared with the discomfort of the cold. Expose
on the summit of the bowlder, we caught the keen
blast from head to heel, that seemed to cut into our
skins like an ice knife. To retain warmth in their
bodies, many once more set to dancing up and
down, as though they had become afflicted with the
malady of St. Vitus.

The situation was worse than irksome, but nolens—
rolens we had to bear it. Possibly we could have
borne it with better patience, had t iere been a pros-
pect of its coming to a termination within any rea-
sonable time. But there was none such to fortify
us: instead the opposite, Grover and the other old
“Arctics” repeatedly affirming, that it might be
da 5 before the bears would raise the siege, and cer-
tainly not till hunger compelled them.

A gloom forecast—enough to appall us. To stay
there for ays—even only a couple of them-and in
such fashion, would be almost as death. Without
food or drink, chilled to the bones, all the while
forced to remain upon our le s, with no chance to
ligfldpwn, or snatc awink o sleep—a. feat impos—
sx c

Foresecing it thus, as time passed, we became
more impatient; til] at length, there was a proposal
to “rush the bears; that is, forsake our perch, and
risk the chances of a scattering retreat. The idea
was daring. rash, even to recklessness; but it see ed
not so to us then, under the torture we were en ur-
ing. And most of us had as good as made up our
minds to it, when Mr. Ransom called out:

“ Wait a bit, boys! I think I know a better way.”

“What?” demanded several voices, in tones tell-
ing of authority disregarded: as it ever is on occa-
sions of life-danger, where the superior omcer has
proved himself uneun to cope With it.

“Why the way back to our boats.” he rejoined.
“Thatllhope Soon to make sate. Have patience,

and ou‘ll .
. Afar firing the shots that had proved so disas-

 

trous, the second mate, though first in command of
our party, had taken no active steps, and scarce
spoken a .word. He seemed alike vexed and con-
fused; asif reflecting on the double mistake he had
made. with the responsibility that now rested on his
shoulders-«tin- failure in our search after-whales un-
dertaken by his advice, and his mistake in sending
small shot at the bears, and so tempting them to
attack us. “'ny he hi.le not since used his gun we
were all aware, as be ad told us. It W35: ‘nr the
want'of caps. Powder and shot he had in plenty;
bullets also, half a dozen of them, but hi .1; ‘0 per-
cussion-cap! The box Containing them he had, by
Some oversight, left behind in the. boat.

As he now counseled us to patience, we kept it as
we best could, waiting for and watching him. He
was reloading his gun, this time with ball; and what
pleased us better, we saw him put caps on the nip—
ples. Fumbling in his pockets, be had found seve-
ral in some out-of~tbe-way corner, unsuspected of
bein, there. Enough for iresent purposes, we
C()lll( see, all of usknowingt rat, the second watts of
the Flying (‘loud was a-crack shot, as good with gun
as wit I1 harpoon or whale-lance.

And when he at length raised the double-Larrel to
his shoulder, we felt sure the siege would also soon
be raised, and ourselves set free.

As in point of fat-t,_we soon were. The bright
moonlight enabled him to aim trite, as though it
were in the day; besides, the objects aimed at were
within half a dozen lengths of his gun. Then came
the two cracks in quick succession; and, When the
smoke thinned ofi.‘ below, we saw the old beats lying
stretched along the earth, kicking their last kick-
the cub alone upon its legs.

In a score of seconds after it too ceased to exist.
For the third mate had a “ down " upon Polar bears,
young and old, and, without pity, impaled it on his
whale-spear.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
HEARTS Ash HOPES AT Lowmr.

MR. RANSOM received our united thanks and con-
gratulations for the splendid shots he had made;
and we could sincerely as heartily give them, since
besides release from our perilous situation by the
death of the. bears, we hat gained something sub-
stantial in the way of provender.

The question was, ho‘w to cook it, none of us being
as yet so hungry as to relish bear- meat raw. Again,
the boat-thwarts were thought of, talked about, and
in fine torn from their fastenings to be made fuel
of. \Vith economy, however, only so many of them
as would suffice for cooking a meal being thus util-
izei .

Despite. our sharp-set a petites, it proved but an
unpalatable repast—tbe esh of the polar bear hav-
ing a somewhat fishy taste from the nature of its
food. Even the bums were anythin but rclishable,
though sugar-cured and with age t cy might have
been better. Those of the American black hear so
treated arc esteemed a bunw-bom-he. However, as
we had three carcasses to pick and choose. from, we
selected the tid-bits, chiefly drawing our cheques
upon the cub.

The meal was more breakfast than supger, for be-
fore we had finished it day began to apple the
eastern sky, and with yellow flecks that~promised a.
bright sunshine. This above all things we desired;
for once over the aBprehension in which the bears
had kept us, with t e excitement succeeding. we be-
came the pro to another quite as keen, if not keener.
Where was t 6 Flying Cloud?

Somewhere outside the ice-field, of course; but at
what point of it? And would she be visible? If not,
there was another peril awaiting us, and no ordinary
one, as we knew; at least did the older hands. And
knowing this, needless to say that soon as there was
light enough to make it worth while looking out, all
eyes were directed seaward. More than one ascend—
ed to the summit of the rock; but first the two
mates, taking their telescopes with them. ,

But no more through glass than by the naked eye
could the barquc be seen; nothing but the bit of
open water inshore; beyond it the belt of ice—now
hard-bound, to all appearance—and in the offing be-
yond this the sea itself, of a reenish-gray, extend-
ing north, east, and west, to a orizon which showed
neither Speck of land nor sail of ship.

N 'or yet could either be discerned with the sun full
up; and failing to sight the barque then was as if a
death-blow had been dealt us. No one would won-
der at this who could comprehend the nature of our
situation. Not all of ourselves understood or real-
ized it, till told. As about the bears, again we
“ greenborns " were incredulous of the danger that
threatened—even inclined to make light of it. We
were on land, and surely safe so far as concerned
our'lives. If we never set eyes on the barque again,
couldn’t we make our way to some settlement, civil—
ized or savage, and thence home by one route or an-
other? As for savages, we had leard enough to
hinder us from being apprehensive on that score.
There were none of fierce or hostile disposition
likely to be encountered on that coast.

“’Tain’t savagers we ha’ got to fear, nor think
about.” said old Groves, enterin upon an explana»
tion of our possible dangers. “ or myself, I a‘mOst‘
weesh it war. But it ain’t, nor anythin’ in the sha e
0’ human kind. What’s more like to trouble will 6
not meetin’ men 0’ any sort, nor anymals ncythcr.
Look at that country 0’ bleak, forbiddin’ aspeck.
stretchin’ ayont eyesight. We mout tramp over it
for days an' days ’ithout comin’ acrost enough 0’
eatables to keep life in a cat. B’sides a day’s jour-
ney w’uldn’t amo'iint to much. For hundreds 0' miles
the oun’s jest the sameas this round here: part.
blncirbog, an' partwise mssocks of sour grass, whar
nortlfilnt’ can milk: out méiJe."mkw

. a bird ms. was a m oedema, u
patois would prove him ;. and that canjoifltly with a:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘ ing all that could be

 

whaling experiences, which included more than one
voyage to the Polar Basin, was sufficient to make
the rest reliant on his words, without any indorse-
ment by the other old Arctics.

Not long after till every one of us. old as young——
new to blubber—hunting, or with a long practice at it
——became aware there was likelihood that we might
never See ship or home again!

The more we reflected on the chances, the more
seemed they against us, taking all the adverse cir-
cumstances into account. For there were others
besides the ice being closed up, and continuous east
and west far as we could see. That troubled us
least of all. It was but a belt seaward, and could be,
cut through. were it worth while making way across
it. Which it was not, nor would be, unless the
barque were in the offing.

Alas! she was not there, nor likely to be; more
" :i one thing making it improbable. She had been
riding at anchor when the three boats rowed away
from her, and would so remain to await their re-
turn. But on] one had returned, and with what a
tale to tell! I ad the Flying Cloud‘s first mate been
the most hopeful of mariners, it would not be. a
cheerful one; but being Lige Coffin, too likely it was
the opposite. That without any wish on his part to
make it more than the reality, as it would seem to
him. The last sight he could have. had of us was
when in the middle of the ice—stream, struggling af-
terhim: and, as the channel was then fast closing
on himself, he must have taken it for granted our
boats had got caught and crushed. Which would be
the same its believing every one of us gone to the
bottom of the sea; he could have come to no other
conclusion, nor reported otherwise to those in the
barque.

And what would be the result? As we pondered
upon it, our feelings were far from being enviable.
And still less to be envied, when the sky again be-
came overcast as it did, and a bank of fog was seen
drifting down from eastward; just as on the preced-
ing dav, only at an earlier hour—before the sun
crossed the meridian line, though we saw not its
crossing. Then all was gloom owr and around us;
our hearts at their heaviest, our hopes at their low-
est. '

  

 

CHAPTER XXII.
A BANNER OF BEAnsxm.

DUI me the rest of that day we kept no look-out,
as we could not. The fog hungover land as sea, lim-
iting our view to a circle of less than a score. yards
diameter; and so continued on into the night, the
second we were to spend on that inhospitable shore.
But even could our e 'es have penetrated it, no ad-
vantage would have een ained. The barque was
surely herself envelo ed y it, and. for her own
safety, would be hol ing to whatever position she
was in whenit drifted down.

Yet without the slightest chance or possibility of
sighting her, we nevertheless listened, in. the hope
of hearing her signal-gun. Faintest of hopes, now;
since we had been listening for it all along. Of
course we heard it not; instead, now and then. the
wild, laintive cry of sea-birds, that seemed singing
our death dirge.

The night was again chilly, but we were not com-
pelled, as on that preceding, to pass a portion of it
exposed to the keen blasts on the summit of the
rock. 0n the contrary, that incident now contributed
to the warmth of more than one, who had converted
the bearskins into blankets, the furry side inward.
Even the pelt of the cub made one individual com-
fortable, so far as regarded cold.

Neither on this night did we suffer from hunger;
though, as before, it had tobe relieved by the sacri-
fice of our boat-thwarts, others of them torn from
their elects. But we thought less of burning them
now; would scarce have cared had it been the oars,
or the boats themselves, under the belief, almost a
conviction. we should never more need them for
their proper pu es. ‘

in rea ty come to that, or near it; one
thought aloneptanding between us and the ultimate
oint of despair—this resting on Captain Drinkwater.
t may seem odd that at such an hour we should
have fixed our only hope on him. Yet so it was,
and for reasons easy enough of comprehension.
When not in his cups, we knew him to ossess su-
perior understanding, with a heart anyt ing but of
the despairing kind; instead, he was the last man to
cry “hopeless!” Tipsy or sober, all the same he
would cling to hope, and stand by friend or s ' -
mate in distress, no matter what their class or rank.
The humblest swab-deck or cook‘s scullion, washed
overboard by a sea, or otherwise endangered, would
cause him as much concern as if it were a first-class
A. B.; at all events, he would make as much efi‘ort
to save them.

Reflecting on this, go bad no doubt about his do-

one to rescue us. Our fear
was his not having faith in the possibility of our be-
ing rescued, believmg us already at the bottom of
the sea.

In this, however, we were wronging him—de re-
ciating his intelligence, as the event proved. ut
we might be he d excusable under the circum-
stances: all of a day and night without sight or sign.
of the barque, and now another ni' lit the same! A
second day with no better result, and some of our
pgrty were prepared .to give it u , abandon the

ats, and do their best to make t eir wav across
the water-soaked plains to the Russian settlements
of Kamschatka. '

But not all talked» thought of this; a ma'ority
still staying true to their belief in Ca tain Ilrink-
water. I_was myself among the num er thus re-
liant on him, as were both the mates. our omcers.

Nor were we disappointed, but all the opposite;
.as, to our joy. we learned at earliest hour of the

The Chase of Leviathan.

 

 

11

following day. The fog had lifted after midnight,
and just as dawn was declaring itself we heard the
boom of a great gun—~by all recognized as the re-
port of the. (floud‘s only piece of artillery, carried by
ier for signaling purposes.

Still more elated were we at seeing herself, as we
did soon after. She was out in the oiling under sail.
but standing easy; evidently examining eiei'y inch
of the ice-stream, with the open water inshore on
its other side.

Aiming ourselves then it was a moment of wildest
excitement, with a rush to the to ) of the rock;
which for some time after presentc a tableau al-
most as quaintly original as when we were besieged
on it by the bears, and dancing to keep warmth in
our tees.

We danced now again, but to a different tune, and
the, music of cheerful voiees~some loudly shouting
in their wild, hysterical delight.

But the older hands took it in a more sober way.
more sensible too; as it was not yet certain the
barque's people had sighted us; and there was still
a possibility they might not. taking into account the
distance. We could see the vessel plain enough, but
then a man. ora dozen grouped together, were but
a speck compared with a ship and her spread sails.
Should she fail to discover 11s and pass on, that
would complete the catastrophe. insuring our final
abandonment. She would not likely return up coast
again; amil'or us to cut our way out to sea through
the ice, and make after her, would be going a wild-
goose chase; very madness, the more with our boats
well-nigh stripped of their thwarts.

As thought of all this flashed across our minds, it
checked the outburst of joyous feeling, bringing
some of us back almost to (lespondency. Butthe
least excited were the ones that now proved most
reliable; old Grover taking the lead.” Sticking his
whale-spear into one of the bearskins, the lar est,
he ran up the rock with it: and. pOiSing himse f on
its highest point. held the skin aloft, at longest
stretch of arm. The broad disk of white fur, like a
flag-of—truCe, catching the breeze, and borne out
streaming from the staff. formed a conspicuous ob-
ject, almost sure of beiny seen from the barque.
But the further to insure t iis. Mr. Ransom was now
also on the rock, discharging his double-barrel, shot
after shot, fast as he could cram powder into the

wee.

Whether the shots were first heard, or their smoke
seen, or whether the hearskin did the business, were
points we cared not then to speculate upon. Enough
for us to know that some of them had success: our

0y breaking out in a fresh ebullition as we saw the
arque wear suddenly round, take in sail, and lie to
in the offing. ' Our agony was over.

What followed scarce calls (or narration, as it can
be well conceived without. Even the presence of the
vessel there needs little explaining. after what has
been said of the man commanding her. It was, as
we who knew him best believed, that he would not
surrender uJ) hope till the last chances were tried.
No more ha he, as was now proved, possibly to the
saving of our lives.

And in the end we were not called upon to hew
out a channel through the iCe—stream, though it
formed a belt between us and the ofllng, now frozen
fast. Luckily, however, there was a break in it,
some little way to the eastward of our osition. not
seen by us, but noted bythe people on t e barque as
she was hearing down.

Her signals told us to stay where we were; and,
but for understanding these. we might have won-
dered seeing her again give her sails to the wind, and
wear off up-coast, as if making away from us.

But she 'cpt that course for only a couple of knots
or so; then brought to again, and, as could be per-
ceived. was lowering a boat. This was made out by
our officers through their telescopes. who kept re-
porting to us what followed: the boat parting from
the barque, and seemingly rowed through solid ice!

But we were in possession of the key to this ap.
parent mystery; and soon after bad e lanation of
all else, when the first mate of the F ying Cloud,
bringing his boat up alongside ours, called out:

“ Darn—seize it, sliipmates! we thought ye’d all
gone to the bottomo’ the Polar Basin!’ Glad to see
ve hain‘t. Jum into your cedars, and follow me.

y good luck t iar‘s a. crack in the ice eastways
that’ll let us through to the ‘ofl‘in .”

We lea ed into our boats, need say with alacrity?
And pul in" after that of the first mate, though
somewhat laboriously for the want of thwarts, we
at length once more stood on the decks of the Fly.
ing Cloud; every man and boy of us to receive a
kind, welcome hand—grasp from her warm-hearted
skipper.

CHAPTER XXIII.
IN THE WAKE or A “son‘-wnsrna.”

As we were all disappointed with the Polar Basin
and the chase of the bowhead whale—Captain Drink-
water himself thoroughly disgusted with both—a
change of cruising-ground was determined on.

Bristol Bay, a tract of sea lving northwaid of the
Aleutian or Fox Islands, at- the time enjoying ,con-
siderable celebrity as a whaling ground. was that we
meant next making trial of. And so we ran back
throu h Behrin ‘s Straits, leaving the Arctic Ocean
bebin_t, with on y regrets at ever having spread sail
u on 1 .

n the Pacific we hoped to have better luck;_ and
we needed it. For the Flying Cloud‘s “load-line "
stood too high above water to be agreeable to us,
her crew—considering that all had an interest in the
profits of the voyage.

In fact, we had not taken enough blubber and bone
to pay ex enses: and, as the season was far ad-

vanced, tb ngs were looking black. and the “ bow?

head ” whale came in for many an ugly anathema

 

As hoped for, however. Bristol Bay, turned up
trumps, and made good the time frittered away in
the Polar Basin. The "right "’ whale, the true
Leviathan. is the species mostly met with in the
North Pacific. and we came across them in such
numbers. as to keep the Flying Cloud constantly
ablaze with the. " trying " fires.

We wanted onlv another whale of respectable size
to complete her cargo; and this we soon after
sighted, all three boats starting in cliaSe of it. re-
spectively commanded by the first. second, and third
mates.

1 was again along with Mr. Ransom, acting as
“tub-oarsx11an:" and this ambitious young oliicer,
eager as ever to prove his superiorityin the chase. of
Leviathan, urged us, his subordinates, to doour best
with the ears. He even promised to pay us some-
thing out of his own pocket, should we outstrip the
other boats, and let him have the chance to fling first
harpoon. _

Of course, we did our best. and succeeded in giv-
ing him the coveted opportunity. Forging ahead of
the first and third boats, we brought him within liar-
poon range of the chased cmman, into which he
hurled the barbed iron. burying it deep.

A iierce. vicious- “Ni)I"-We$tel‘ " the whale was;
anything butilisposed to show us play. Instead, it
tore oif through the water at race-horse speed, di—
rect to windward: so that, with all our strength and
rowing skill, we were inirely able to keep pace with
it. The other boats fell rapidly behind: and so far
that, after ashort while, we completely lost sight of
them, only seeing them at intervals for a second or
two, as they rose on the combing of the waves. For
the sea was rough, with a sky overhead which
threatened to make it more so.

But Mr. Ransom regarded neither sea nor sky; and
no more. now the boats our consorts, seeing them
distanced beyond the power of rivalry. The barque
was still in sight, lying to under reefcd sails, and
that was enough for him. Even when the last spot
of her canvas disappeared below the waterline, and
we. could barely make out her main royal mast, with
its rigging slight and thin as the gossamer threads
of a spider's web, he would not consent to our part-
ing from the harpooned whale, that still hurried us
along as if towed by a fast steamer. Not even when
the boat-steerer. Grummell, made appeal to him, in
words of warning, about the risk he was running.

“As ye see, sir," said the old whalesman, in re-
spectful remonstrance. “it’s nigh upon night, an’
the barque‘s top-mast spars all but inwisible. If we
lose sight 0‘ her it‘ll be awkward. Don’t you think
we’d better cut loose?”

“I won‘t cut loose!" returned the young officer,
in tones of obstinate determination. .“Not till the
Clouds maintruck is the only thing We can see of
her. Hang it, Grummell! how could we let this
whale 've us the slip, now we‘re so near to lancin
him! ookl By the way he behaves I know he’
soon bring to.”

“ With due respect, sir," returned Grummell, “ he
ain’t a bit like bringin’ to. By his behavior, I‘d sa
all 0’ the contrary! He seems to ha‘ the strengt i
for leadin’ us a long chase yet. Look at him now!
Look how he goes! ‘

A fresh spurt on the part of the whale it was that
called forth the final exclamation, the great cetacecn
rushing on at increased speed, after a puff from his -
spiracles, sending the spray so high in air that the

» wind spit it back into our faces.

The young officer looked over his shoulder, his
face assuming an expression of anxiety. as he saw
the barque’s mastheads almost down to the sky-
line. A conflict of emotions was going on in his
mind—a regret to give up the game chased and so
Elgar to capture, and the danger of following it fur-

er.

“I always hate to cut loose from a whale.” he said,
in a tone of extreme vexation; “and never more
than this one—after so nicely fixing it. I know I
could ‘muckle ’ him, if he’d only give me the ghost
of a chance.”

This the whale seemed determined not to do. In-
stead. rushed .unflaggingly on, our light boat danc-
ing on in its wake, splitting the seas with her sharp
cutwater faster than anv cars could drive her.

Once more the secon mate cast a glance back-
ward, and another up to the sky; then taking out his
boat-knife, said despondingly:

“There‘s no he! for it, I su ose. We mustn’t
risk losing sighto the ship, Wit the sun so near
down. You see how it is, boys?” he added, inter-
rogatively as if apologizing for what he was about
to do. “We must let Leviathan off this time.
Heigh! What’s that?” he exclaimed, casting a last
look over the sea. “A fog_coming on! can it be?”

We all turned our eyes in the same direction as
his; to see a bluish haze beginning to form over the
water, to windward, but floating down toward us,
and rapidly.

“ ’Tair that an’ nothin’ else.“ exclaimed the
steerer. in tone of alarm. “Do cut, sir ! Cut
quick!” ‘

The young officer no lon er hesitated, but with a
single stroke of his keen lade severed the line;
when the whale. as if in triumphant glee at being
released from the painful dra u on him, struck the
water a thundering blow wi h is flat, ponderous
flukes, and, sounding, vanished from our Sight!

“Lay round, Grummell!”commanded the mate;
“give me the mast and sail. Hold on! The com-
plass first. and let us fix the bearing of the barquel ,

urry up With it!” _

The little boat com ass was pulled out from under
the stern-sheets, an soon as possible. For all, he
wastoo late with it; before he could o n the box
and get the card steadied to set beam) ,the fog
enve oped us, leavin a visible horizon 0 less than
three-score yards. 5 a guide the compass was of
little more use now than a log-slate with its entries

 

 

.‘.' Hem}; 1‘

12

 

 

rubbed out. True, it would tell us north from south,
and east from west, but not in which quarter the
bar ue lay.

“ ars, boys!" came the mate’s command. “Give

way! quick, and with awill. We can’t do better than
pull straight to leeward; as you'll remember the
whale’s been bringing us up wind. If this con-
founded to had only held otf till I‘d got the ship’s
bearings! ut it hasn’t, and so we‘re In a fix ”
- “ A durnationed fix, sir!” confirmed the boat-
steerer, “an” no mistake. For myself. I don‘t re-
member ever bein’in much 0‘ aworse. Old Nick
take the ueg thing!"

The men were not unaccustomed to hear fogs thus
bitterly anathematized, and more es )ecially those of
that same sea. In the higher latitudes of the Pacific
Ocean they are among the dangers most dreaded by
whalesmen, not only on account of their frequency,
but the suddcnness with which they shut down;
coming on and over, as it were, in an instant. And
it is impossible to say how lon r the may continue;
the oldest cruisers cannottell t is, a 1 experience be-
ing ballied in predicting their duration.

Aware of this, we could fully comprehend our
danger, and did. Feeling it the greater, as no other
vessel, whaling or otherwise, had been within sight
of us for days, and our only chance of safety lay in
finding our own. That now of the slimmest; since
to the direction she was in we had neither clew nor

uide, save such as the wind gave us. And this, be-
ng capricious, it might at any moment veer round
to another quarter, but to mislead us.

Only those similarly circumstanced have a just
idea of the peril in which we were Jlaced. We our-
selves had it, in its very fullest rea ization, as we si—
lently worked at the oars. And, as if to render our
sense of isolation more complete, with that of de-
spondency the keener, nights darkness soon after
settled down over the sea, with a gloom that Seemed
palpable to the touchl

CHAPTER XXIV.
GROPING THE WAY.

IT is difficult to describe, and stiu more to compre-
hend, by one who has never experienced it. the pe-
culiar sensation of being beset by a thick sea—fog, at
night and in an open boat. Even durin daylight,
and on board a strong ship, if not actua ly causing
fear, it imbues the mind with a sense of insecurity
subversive of all estimates and calculations.

But as we were then in our cookie-shell of a craft,
midway in a wide ocean, literally wandering upon it.
with no certain point to steer for, and just as likely
to take the wrong direction as the right one. it begot
within us a feeling of bewilderment alto ether inde-
scribable. Though with oars in our han s, and well
able to use them, we played them gropingly about,
gsgne might his arms in the game of blind man's

u .

“Heave u , and rest,.boys!” our commander at
length calls to us. “Get out the lantern, that I
may have a sguint at the compass before this wind
dies out. It ooks as if we’re going to have a flat
calm. Keep all your ears open or a gun, and if you
hear one, mark well the direction.”

A keg containing a lantern, with the materials for
makingma light, is part of the inventor of every
whale- at. These were instantly pro need, the
light struck and brought to bear on thel compass-
card, which the mate held in his hand; the same
shinin on his face, showed an expression there, if
possib c more troubled than before, for at the first
glance t 6 position of the needle to the course of the
wind told him the latter had changed since be last
read its direction—the ver wind we were tmstin
to, the only thing we co (I trust, having proved
treacherous.

“This won’t do," he said, in half-muttered solil—
oquy, on detecting the error. “ it‘s no use thinking
about the wind any longer, and we may- as well try
what good can be got out of the compass without it.
The barque ought to hear about nor’-hor‘-west from
us. What‘s your Opinion of it, Grummell?"

“‘Tain’t possible to hev any o.eenyun, sir,” was
the discouraging answer. " But s’pose we may’s
well do that as an thin‘ else."

“Let's t it t en!” said the young officer, de-
cisively. “ ull ahead, boys! I‘l. keep you to a
course.”

At which, he took the lantern from the boat-
steerer, leaving the latter to return to his special
duty, while the rest of us in silent obedience once
more resumed stroke.

Never were oars worked with less heart or hope.
We pulled mechanically, having but the faintest be-
lief we should reach the barque that night, if ever.
The least experienced of us knew. that, w ether now
on the right course for her or not, the deviation of a
single point of the ,compass—even but a hair‘s
breadth—would soo carry us wide away from it.
So that, with or wi out the aid of the magnetic
needle, it was crop: our way all the time.

None knew this et r than the second mate him-
self; and though he muttered occasional directions
to the steerer, takin them‘from the compass, the
tone of his voice tol he had but slight faith in it.
No more had we, the rowers, in our oars; keeping
them out of water for lengthened spells so that
their plunge might not hinder our hearing the signal
gun. Our commander was listening for it as well;
and instead of reprovin us for careless pullin , as
we might have expecte , he after a time ordere us
to suspend stroke altogether. '

Once more we lay rocked about upon the billows,
with ears set to catch the wished-for sound; keenly
aetasthose of a man u n trial, awaiting the ver-
dict that may leave him ife or condemn him to igno-

‘minious death. At first we heard but the wash of the

Elan. wigglnow and thlen the gildedsli’rietllt1 off a seas
iyasoursevelco us eo’an
«at? in its eight. ’ y E"

 

The Chase of Leviathan. '

 

It was a period of painful suspense with us, as it
had been ever since we came to realize the fact of
our being lostwcast away in mid-ocean. All the
more joyous were we on hearing, as we at length
did, that signal so long listened for in vain. It pro-
duced a revulsion of feelin so exhilarating as to
call forth a general cheer. ut not universal. To
our surprise one refrained joining in it, old Grum—
mell. the boat-steerer. '

“ What’s the matter. Grummell?” asked the mate,
seeing him unmoved and silent, while the lantern’s
light showed his features wearing the same rave
expression as ever. “You heard the gun, idn‘t
you?’

“Course I heerd it, sir, same’s the rest 0’ 6. But
it needs somethin‘ besides that 'fore We can eel safe.
I defy gny one to tell the quarter it corned from. 1
can’t.’

His words were but too true, as after a moment’s
reflection we all perceived. In our delight at hear-
ing the sound, it had not occurred to us to think of
the direction.

We now (lid, with hearts down again, almost low
as ever. For on comparing notes no two agreed
about it; one thinking it on the port bow, another
on the starboard quarter, a third stern. and a fourth
dead ahead! ‘Vith such wide diversity of views,
taking in every point of the compass, no sure move-
ment could be. made one way or the other; and we
continued riding the waves without stroke of oar, in
hopes to hear the gun again.

Again we heard it; a dull, mullied boom, as if a
tliickwall was inter osed between us and it, dead—
ening the sound. I nd as before, with the same
contrariety of opinion as to the quarter whence it
came.

Mr. Ransom believed it northward. near the point
for which we had been of late steering. So, with
eyes to the com )ass again, he commanded the boat
to be pulled in t iat course.

This was done, with as little noise of oarstroke as

ossible; all ears on the alert to catch that sound we
iked better to hear, however much we were mys-
tified about its direction.

But not for long did we keep a northerly course,
scarce a single minute: for the barque was firing
mini/[6 guns; and the next heard led our comman-
der to doubt that we were rowing the right way.
The very contrary he thought now; and so it was
“boat about,” and a spell of pulling, as it were,
backward!

This continued only till another boom broke over
the water waste, again giving us reason to change
Course. ut with no better result. After awhile all
remained uncertain as ever.

There was one more detonation from the _un——at
least but one reached our ears——fainter and ess dis-
tinct than any which had preceded. I told the sad,
disheartening tale that, instead of the barque draw-
ing nearer to us, or we to her. the distance between
was but widening. And what chance was there of
our making it less, ignorant as we were of the course
to be run? -

After pulling for some time longer in a heartless,
half-bewildered way, our commander cried out, in a
vexed tone of voice:

“Peak oars! The boat’s been going round like a
spin-button, till I hardly know her head from her
stern. It‘s Slain we’re not nearing the barque any-
how; instea , getting further away from her. So,
lay by again, and let’s listen. It‘s no use shooting
about, rasshopper fashion, as we've been doin ."

I Need ess to say we obeyed the order; and, ing
oars as directed, sat silent on the thwarts, every car
acutely bent to catch the report of cannon.

None reached us after; only noises of another
kind, all in their way disagreea 10. And something
more, for they all pointed to one and the. same
thing, which threatened still further to imperil us.

he sea-birds shrieking wilder, the mind beginning
to howl, the water‘s wash rising higher. and sound-
ing harsher, were the too sure forecasts of a ale.
Hitherto it had been only a fresh breeze, but a the
signs now portended storm—a very tempest.

And to face it we had nothing that could be de-
pended upon—only a thin shell of cedar board be-
tween us and the-seals bottom—between us and cer-
tain death.

 

CHAPTER XXV.
LOOKING 10 THE some you GUIDANCE.

'ONE of the peculiarities of a thick sea-fog— ‘hd a
most dangerous one for a boat that has become
separated from its ship—is the diiiiculty of telling
from what point sounds proceed. About this the

most practiced ear is at fault; as we had good rea-‘

son to know from our experiences of the night, with-
others gained elsewhere. and at an earlier time. So
long, therefore, as the fog lasted, it would be at
best but blind uessin , and idle t go zigzagg'ing
about as we ha been oing; indee worse, since it
was wearisome work at the oars. We, the rowers

were already tired enough tugging at them, and 21

to rest, when our commander, reflecting in this wise,
after a while called out to the boat-ste rcr:

“Grummell! I think we may as we hold on here;
keep her well to the wind l"

80 we lay with oars apes]; head to the Wind's eye.
But listening longer for the gun signals was on our
part more involuntary than intentional. Discour-
aged by having so often heard them without gain-
ing aught by it, we supposed it Would be the same

again.

As the anticipated storm did not come on as soon
as expected, and for the time we had to deal with
but astiif blow, two of the oars were shipped, the

other two new and then dipping into the water to g

keep the boat steady. And as y this we were all
ve hungr , thirst as well, ' e bethought us of as
lay ng bot appet tes. We had the wherewithal:
several pounds of “ hard-tack " in a canvas bag, and

 

X A

a keg containing about five allons of water, with
rum enough to make grogo it; much more of all
than was needed for a single repast. But though
our appetites were sharp enough to make it :1 big
one, our commandin officer put restraint on'their
cravings, giving go reasons therefor.

“ Shipmates,” he said, addressing us in the
familiar hraseology of the sea, “there’s no i;l.t)\i ~
ing how 011% we ma have to live-.on the content.» r .
this bag an keg. on see what they are—hardly
sufficient to keep the life in us for three days. it'
before that the bar ue don‘t turn up, or we haven't
the luck tofall in With some other vessel, I needn‘t
tell you, ’twill be tight times with us."

Thus admonished, the meal we made was as light
as the fare itself was meager; ur su plies being.
diminished no further than t e 11 cal s of hunger
and thirst absolutely required. For this abstemio
ousness Mr. Ransom needed no stern assertion of
authority. As himself, we all knew the importance
of husbanding what might be for days our only re-
source.

The anchoritish repast over, and all else made
snug as was possible under the circumstances, we
took steps for assing the remainder of the night.
It was arranged that three of the six should go to
sleep, or try to: the other three staying awake to
look after the safety of the craft. Then, after a.
certain time had elapsed, the’sleepers and watchers
to change lace and purpose.

By good uck we had our pea-jackets with us—not

all, but as many as sufficed to make a wrap for the
sleepers. And they were needed to keep them.
warm; for although it was yet summer, and the
latiitude below 50 dog, the night had turned icy
00 (1.
Little slept any of us on either watch; though we'
were not kept awake by the cold, so much as through
anxiety about what the morning's light might reveal.
to us.

Alasl when morning cameit revealed nothin ; the
fog still enveloped us, dense as ever. We on] new
of the sun having arisen by its yellower hue: at for
sight of distant sea or sk ', it was Still the same. Our
field of view was limited) to a. circle of less than a.
cable‘s length.

Yet, despite the continued obscurit , there was
that in the morning air—a something w ich revived
hopes Within us—again leading us to listen for the.
ship‘s signals.

And again we heard them, several times in succes—
sion; at each booming reverberation setting the
boat’s head, as we sup osed, toward it: and pulled
straight and hard, till t e next seemed to come from
behind, telling us we were rowing the wrong way!

It was vexatiously a gravating, and after count-
less shoots and rount mgs, with oar-work to weary
out the best paid waterman, we at length again lay to,
the mate commanding it. Unfortunately there was
no reason why he should order otherwise; for after
that no uns were heard to guide un—blind guides
as they ad proved.

Our ears failin , our sole ultimate hope now must‘
be in our egos t ese useless so long as the 0g con-
tinued. S ouid it not clear 03, we might as well
shut them, and go to sleep. .

But we were not in the moo for sleep, however“
much needing it. Anxiety for e that, and we
watched the mist with er earnestness, hoping to
see it become thinner v nly endeavoring to pene~
[rate its clamm curtain, white and weird as the can—-
opy of a death- ed; peered through, and speculated
uplon it, com ari notes of what each thought of it,
w other like y to hft or lie on.

“It’s liftin now!" at length spoke a voice, recog-
nimble as that of the boat-steerer, adding; “Wait a
bit, boys, an’ ye‘ll see no end 0' cl’ar ocean around.
Let’s hope we ma also git sight 0’ the barquel”

Grummell‘s pre iction roved right, but his hope
the reverse. For soon a ter. the fog was rolled up
like a scroll. to its last straggling rag, and disak ear»
ed from the surface of the sea, leaving it brig and
blue as the sky above. Still, round al the horizon’s
ring there was no sign of barque, nor ship; no sail
of any sort: our tin craft, a meres .eck, seeming the
onl thing to tell 0 humankind a oat on the waters.
of ristol Bay. '

The shortplived joy with which we lid hailed the
lifting of the fog was succeeded by a feeling akin to
despair. For bright though the sky now over us,
our prospects were darker than ever. So ion as we
saw nothin there had been hope, with the c ances
that somet ing mi 1tbe seen—4M5 barque-herself.
After hearing‘ier minute guns throughout the night,
this was pro ble enough.

But from that time we heard them no more, nor
could we descry aught that resembled the rigging of
a ship—not a s .

Mr. m was the tallest of us, and mounting
to the “clumsy cleet," steadying himself by the
wart), with telescope to his eye, took alast curve
of t e ocean around' while we, with hearts be». ‘
intivtanxiowaly, await the result.

ey beat despairihglly, painfully when we saw
him drop down to the t wart again. i. features all
clouded, saying, as he returned to his is t:

“ The bargue isn’t in sight, boys; neither she nor'

au ht else.’

ruinmell took the glass and tried, too. Though a,
man of more than mature ago, we knew the boat-
Steerer to be sharp-sighted, to a marvel. So we
again underwent a spell of anxious anticipation;
but- as before to suffer disa- pointment.

“ Neery thing 1" was his aconic but expressive re-
.port, as, shutting up the telescope with a conclusive
slap, he returned to take his place at the steering
ear.

For some time we sat gazingin one mother’s faces,
with a hopeless, half-wildered look. The‘boat is
dead upo the water, for the oarswere now shippeti
and thong the mast was steppean can had any-ct.-

 

 

 

 

 

 

., rm, ‘ ‘

 .-..  s; ‘

,5

  

   

“57"”
i"

  

13

 

 

been hoisted. Wherefore should we work oar, or -
spread canvas? To do either seemed equally use- E
less; for still, as ever, the chances of pulhng or sail. ‘
ing on the right course would be hundreds to one '

ainst us. I

t was a crisis in which nothing rational could be
depended on. and no experience meet; one of those 1
occasions when men are most disposed to fall back 1
u on destiny, and give way to a belief in omens. ‘

iinking of what we ought to do—that is the point ‘
we should steer to—Grunimell suggested our being
gut/fwd fig/"tho gulls /

“How? In what way?” demanded Mr. Ransom,
who, as the rest of us, wondered what the old whale-
man could mean. We knew him as a man strongly
addicted to faith in the supernatural; had this to do
with his suggestion?

“By followin’ the course 0’ thar flight, sir,” he
said, answering the mate‘s question, “and turnin‘
in the same direckshun."

“That would be steering to every point of the
compass at one and the same time," objected the
young officer. “Don’t the gulls fly every wa '?”

“ Not allers sir. An‘ let’s hope they ain’t doing
so now. We’l soon see.”

Saying which, he bent his eyes upon the sea, or,
rather the belt of sky above, taking survey of it on
every side.

There were gulls winging their way around the
boat, several, and of more than one species, their
flight apparently in no particular direction. In-
stead, t ey kept going and coming, meeting and
crossing, now poised. and making plunges at the
flnny trihe' anon rising, to soar aloft again.

After walching them for a time, the boat-steerer
gave it up, saying, as the shadow came back over

is brow:

“ No; the barque ain’t near, nor ship 0’ any sort."

“ How can you tell that?" asked the mate, speak-
ing all our minds, for we were still mystified as to
what Grummell meant.

“Easy enough," answered the old whalesman;
then-proceeding to the ex lanation. Which proved.
after all, to be no faiicit'u theory nor superstitious
belief on his part, but a simple natural fact.

“Ye know, sir, the gulls an’ most other sorts 0’
sea-birds have a habit of follei-iii‘ ships to catch the
scraps now and then chucked overboard; so when
they sight a vessel, naterally the make to’rds her.
If thar was one near us now, t cy’d be goin’ her
way—leastwise a good many 0‘ them. But the
ain’t; ’stead tioppin’all about to and fro. Mores
the pity, showin there ain’t a sail in sight."

His reasoning was irresistible; convincing, while
saddening us all. Clearly) were we alone on the
Wlde, trackless Ocean, no etter off than castaways
who had escaped from a wrecked vessel. Nay, not
so well as many]; for our stock of provisions was
less than mi in: ave been secured by these in the
most hurrie< departure from an abandoned ship.

“ Well, boys,” said our young commander, after
an interval of despondent silence, “you see how it
is—an ugly look-out for us. It’s a toss-u which
wa we steer now, or whether we steer at a 1. Still,
by Ivl'ing-to here nothing‘s likely to be gained; and,
a" t ere‘sa breeze, we may as well run before it.
At all event it’ll save elbOW grease, and may carry
us in sight 0 something."

To the suggestive proposal there was no protest.
Coming from our superior officer, it was the same
as a command. But, without this construction, we
were all willing and ready to yield obedience to it.‘
The more since it called for no laborious exertion on
our part; it was only to hoist the sail and attend to
it-—-an easy task. ‘

“ If we see nothing before night.” added the mate,
after reflecting a moment, “then I‘ve made up my
mind as to what we had best do."

Without questioning what, we slung up the can-
vas; and, sheeting it home, ran on without regard
to other course than that in which the capricious
wind might car us.

For the rest 0 that day, every hour, minute, mo-
ment of it, our eves were on the alert to descry sail.
Land we did notlook for, knowing there was none
within less than a hundred leagues.

But again the sun went-down over the wide waste
of ocean, without our seeing shi or sheet of canvas
-much less that of the Flying Cloud.

CHAPTER XXVI.
Ln'r’s RUN FOR THE "nous!"

“WELL!” exclaimed our commander, declaring
the intention he had given hint of on our hoisting
sail, “we must alter the course. As the compass
tells me, we’ve been all day running nor’-westward.
That won‘t do, if we look to making land. Having
surely lost shi , land’s our only ho )e now, and due
south our like est chance for reaching it. We must
strike’the Aleutian Islands—if we can. What‘s your
opinion, Grummellf” he added, in deference to the
old whalesman.

“I see no better way, sir,” answered the steerer.
“Fact none so good as to make for the Lewshans.
As ye‘ sa , the oughter be ’bout south from h ar,
an’ if t win ’11 only keep to the quarter it s in’
now, we may reach ’em easy enuf; that air ur-
vidin’ we kin hold out ag‘in’ the hunger an’ th rst.
B'sides, tmr‘s the chance 0’ fallin’ in wi' some 0’ the
whale craft we see‘d cruizin’ about in the Bay.
Most 0’ 'em shed be full afore this an’ steerin’
home’ards; in the which case thar’l be a fairish
pros k for us to git picked up.”

“ ‘s gust a question of whether we should lie to
and wai for another morning,” rejoined the young
officer, appearing to reflect. “And yet no!" he
added. after a moment, in determined tone.
"There’s no question about it. We must be off the
whaling-ground long ago, fifty miles or more, and

 

 

 

are as like to fall in with aship further south as by
dilly-dallying about here. Besides, there’d be the

The Chase of Leviathan.

 

lost time. Let‘s run for the Foxes, then. You‘re
all agreed to it, boys?"

We had no rirrht to say nay. He was our com—
mander, and codld order the boat steered in what-
ever dircction seemed best to him. But under cir-
cumstances like those we were then in—a matter of

. life or death to all—authority becomes relaxed, and

the huiiiblest subordinate has a claim to be heard.
Inde endent of this, however, the- young officer,
kind- carted as he. was rash, would have made the
concession.

“We‘re all agreed to it," was the response he got
from us, speaking as one man. .

Just at that moment, as if to indorse the desi n
upon which we were in such complete accord, t c
wind shifted several points, and was now blowing, as
the compass told, nearly direct from the north.

“A good omen!” exclaimed our commander.
“ Let’s believe it that anyhow, and lose no time in

‘ taking advantage of it. Set her head south! Up
‘ sail again!"

During the twenty minutes or so spent in irresolu-
tion, we had let the canvas down, leaving the boat
to toss about as though no one was in her.

Now all became changed, the thought of a new de-
pa rture inspiring us with fresh hopes. Up went the
sail, every inch spread. and sheeted home, quick as
a flash of lightning, while with Gruniincll steering,
the boat's head swung round with like prompt ra-

idity. .
p “ ‘ow for the Foxes!" cried the mate, cheerily,
as the sail caught the favoring breeze, and we went
in sur ing rush through the water. “ They must be
straig it south," he added, “and we can‘t miss
them."

It was pleasant to think so; yet was there some-
thing in t e tone of the young officer‘s voice which
told us he was far from confident as to the direction
of the Aleutian or Fox Islands, and was but speak-
ing “the wish father to the. thought."

Had the clerk of the. Weather given us the setting
of the wind for ourselves, we could not have wished
it to blow from a better uartei‘. We wanted to run
due south, and it was no, due north. Instead, seve-
ral points from it, just enough to strike us on the
quarter, fillin the sail, and kee ing all steady. And
stroi enoug was it to put t e boat to her best
spee , good eight knots an hour. At this rate she
went dashing on, leaving in her wake a foaming,
luminous track; the sea through which we sailed
being full of the phosphorescent med use.

For over an hour we had been making good way,
when there came an interruption from a source
hitherto unthought of. The light in our lantern went
suddenly out, from the oil having become exhausted.
An odd reason, it might be so posed, for staying
the course of a boat under sai . Nor would it be
any, were she running without re ard to direction.
But we were aiming to go souti, with no other
guidance than the compass: and what availed the
magnetic needle without li ht to show us .how it
pointed? Had it been a watc , and we only wanting
to know the time of the night. we might have got
that by groping at the hands; but the more delicate
and volatile thread of steel, imbued with loadstone,
shrinks from such mani ulation and cannot be
coaxed to stand steady. t was of no more use to
3;; lnow than would have been a. dilapidated sun-

ia .

In this our dilemma. the boat was again brought
to by the mate’s orders. till something might be
thought of likely to relieve us from it. Was there
anything of which we could make a light? Had
an body any matches?

ho, not one; there was not a single lucifer left!

“We must trust to the wind, then," said our com-
mander, letting the compass slide down at his feet.
“Set round again, and run on: you look to the sail,
Grummell, and give me the steering oar."

Soon asthe two had shifted places, away we went
again, now trusting‘altogether to the wind for our
course, though we new how little this could be re-
lied on, and nowhere less than in the North Pacific.
It mi ht change abruptly, and at any moment, just
as it ad done but the hour before.

We were thinking only of its caprice, as regarded
direction: but ere another hour passed this was as
nothing to us. Then little cared we whence it blew
or whither it bore us, all our thoughts being en-
grossed, all our energies called into action for the
savin of our boat. and, I need not add, ourselves.
For tiat breeze, late so favorable, had just fresh-
ened to a strong wind, and, constantly increasing,
threatened a gale of the most violent kind—a very
tem st. It was that we had been fearing all along,
and oped to have escaped. But no, it was on us
now.

“We must send before it," called out the mate,
“ biplw what way it will. A reef in the sail, Grumo
me ’

The reef was taken in with all dispatch but soon
again came the command, “Another rec in!” and
not long after the third and last had to be taken up,
till but a mere patch of canvas remained s read.
Still the boat rolled oi! before the fast-f0 owing
ieasi while a murky, angry sky scowled above our

ea 5. ' ‘

To add to our embarrassment, as our'discomfort,
it had become keenly cold. The wind, rushin direct
down from the Pole over a vast wildernesso snow
and ice, struck against our backs chill as if loaded
with sleet, and we had only our ordinary pea-jackets
for protection. This, however, but that it embar-
rassed us in the action required for the management
of our craft, would have been a matter of secondary
concern. It wasas nothing comgiéred with others

scone aging us all our efforts ing called upon
to keep he boat rom getting swamped by the surg-
ing seas. Fast as the sail drove her forward, one of
them eve now and then overtook her sending its
shower of rine over and ahead of us. Every spare

 

hand was busied bailing out, hard and constant,
with such vessels as chanced to be at' our service.
Otherwise she would have filled and sunk; indeed,
we knew not when the boat might go down. Still,
we toiled on, and succeeded in keeping her alloat.

Though short the night, as in the summer of these
high latitudes, it seemed long enough to us; we
thou ht day was never going to dawn. But it did at
lengt , delighting our e 'es; though only for a brief
moment, until survey ad been made of the sur-
rounding sea. First our commander made it stand-
ing on the “ clumsy elect.” and turning his telescope
to all sides. And when all were examined he
stepped down again, saying in despondent tone:

‘ Sliipinates, I‘m sorry to report nothing in sight!"

An interval of silence succeeded, all gloom as be-
fore. It was broken by Mr. Ransom adding:

“You give alook around, Grummell. Two pairs

«of eyes may be better than one. Take the g1: 5- s."

The old wlialesman mounting up made a SOHNS of
observations similar to thOSe gone through by the
mate. But with no better result, as we Lill‘llt by
his saying:

“ Can‘t see nothin‘, sir, ’ceptin’ the waves, an’
tliar white combin‘s. We must be cl‘ar off the
cruisin‘ groun’, an” suthart 0’ all the whalin’ ships,
long ago."

Having thus disappointingly delivered himself, he
dropped down again, resuming his seat on the
thwart.

Another intei‘regnum of. silence, as before broken
by the mate calling out to me:

“Macy! “You‘ve got sharp eyes, I know. Take
the telescope and see if you can make outun) thing."

Without vanity, I may say that Nature has en,
(lowed me with unusual power of vision, of which
Mr. Ransom had more than once availed himself
when out with his boat in pursuit of Leviathan.

Flatterod by the command, I was soon 111ml] the
cleet, and with the telescope to my eye sweeping the
horizon around.

For a time I saw but the big waves. surfing and
tumbling about in chaotic confusion. At first I look-
ed over them afar. along the rugged line of their
crests; then depressing the telescope, examined the
sea in closer proximit y. ,

Nothing there either, I concluded reporting so to‘
my comrades in the boat below. In fact, I was about
to give it up, as the others had done, when an ob-
ject caught my eye which caused me to cling to the
mast a little longer. Only a block of wood it was,
floating buoy-like; a smal thing which would have,
no doubt, escaped my observation but for its turn-
ing up conspicuously on the smooth ridge of a swell.

‘lou see something, Macy?“ called the mate to
me, while I was endeavoriug to make out whether
the bit of driftwood was what at firstglance I had
taken it for. “ What is it?” he added.

“ I think it‘s a drug, sir."

“A drug! By Jove! there’s something in that..
Whereaway is it 9"

fl‘:‘(’)n the port bow, sir; about three cables’ length
0 I

the boat down on it I"

I did as ordered,without much altering the course;
for the waif was but a point or two out of it to lee-
ward. And soon we were close up to the bit of bob-
bing timber, to see it was a drug, sure enough, the
letters branded upon it showing this.

CHAPTER XXVII.
ms'r TO A siman WEALE

 

one of the implements of the whalesman‘s ea in ,
its purpose to proclaim ownership. When a wha 6
has been killed and must be temporarily abandoned,
either for continuing the chase of the “ school," or
other like reason, it is usual to fling out the drug,
which is simply a block of light wood, with the
ship’s name and the it from which she hails
branded upon it. The little flag hoisted on the dead
whale is but a beacon to guide the boat back to it,
while the drug hasa significance somewhat difier-
ent. It is as a brand upon cattle, to tell all who ma

find them stra 'ng, that they are owned, and who 9
their owner. an a whale, after capture, has to be
left drifting about or days, till its captors have an op-
portunity of returning to it. Not unfreihiiently they
never return at all. A fog coming over
a storm suddenly arising, ma make it impossible to
retrieve the stricken game, iowever valuable. But

the drug sa. s “ hands off,” to the crew of an other
boat or ship that may chance to fall in wi h it—a
rule or law, of the grotession, rigorously observed
on lwhaling groun s.

“The Hi hlander,Aberdeen,” said our commander,
spelling o the name on the block, as a wave turned
i s lettered side upward. “Why that‘s the Scotch
vessel we saw in the Polar Basi . She must have
left it like ourselves, and come 3 uthward. But
what’s one of her (17 ugs doing here rifting, about?
Dro ped overboard, I suppose, by some accident."

“ t ma be fast to a sunk whale, sir,” suggested
Grumme .

“It may be." rejoined the mate; “and, by the

W ‘1] soon see.”

y this the bit of timber was close enough to be
caught hold of; and, leaning over, he lifted it out of
the water.

Sure enough there was a line attached to it- at
first slack, but as our boat was borne on by thew d,
it became taut, so suddenly as to jerk the block out
of the on
bound, ack nto the sea. .

“Ship oars! Stern all!" were the orders-to us

 

obeyed, laying the boat once more alongside
floating waif.

“Give. the steering directions, then, and I’ll bring-

THE uninitiated may need telling that a “ dru ” is-

e place, or

whether recovered by its legitimate owners or not,

way it works. most likely is—fast to something;

.omcer's hands, with a plashing no»

intrusted with the rowing. Which we prong

  
  
    
  
   
    
  
  
   
   
   
     
  
  
  
   
   
 
    
  
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
 
   
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
     
    
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
        
       
      
         
   
     

    

14

The Chase of Leviathan.

 

 

Taken in hand again, and now more cautiously
manipulated, it was found to be fast indeed; so fast
as to bear any pull we might put upon it. All our
boat’s Weight, with the force of the wind and surg-
ing sea, failed to fetch it away.

“ There‘s a whale at the other end, sure," said the
mate.
or hereabouts not so very long ago; else it would be
back up again. What do you think, (:‘rrumniell‘f’

“I think the saine‘s yourself, sir; that tln-re‘s a
fish at the other end n” that line.”

One of old (jrummoll‘s idiosyncrasies was the call-
ing a whale ably-It; contrary to all the rules and ideas
of the zo’iiog‘isl».

“Andthe Highlander must have been here 1

“An' it can’t ‘a’ been so long below," he added, '

“ elsewise, as you say. sir. it would ’a‘ riz lo the sur—
fiss, sure sartin.
over this groun‘ within the week, an. maybe she‘s
still on it."

Words l but reawakeued hope within us; and once
more our eyes were turned upon the sea, with
glances of interrogation. .

Only to get answer as before: nothing there but
the waves .11 the same wild commotion, and dread,
dreary monoton '.

Returning.r to t 1e drug, our commander said:

“Some luck in our coniin ' across this. anyhow.
It’ll keep the boat steady. and we in st hold onto it.
Let us hope ’twill bear the strain.”

Without further words the piece of timber was
lifted into the loot. and a turn or t\vo ol' the line
taken around a stanchion. After which we role
“ short up and down," anchored, as We believed, to
the body of a sunken whale.

Still in fear of the line partng from the heavy pull
upon it, We kept veering and hauling: at the same
time bent on another piece, low down as possible, to
act as a “ preventer,” taking every precaution
against its challng.

“ It will be safer for s to ride here, head to the
sea, than run." s id the mate, in justification of the
course he intended taking. “As you all see, the
gale hasn‘t yet got to its highest—not near it.
There’s but hills around us now—they‘ll be moun-
tains before the wind goes down again."

This we could well believe, seeing every sign of it.
Scowiing sky and waves wildly raging; the storm-
petreldarting about as in delight; were all indica-
tions that the blast already strong would be stronger
ere it ble v itself out.

We were not 1mg at our odd anchorage before
finding out the good service it did us. The boat rode
well upon the waves, and we took every care to keep
her trim with head right to the wind. Our only
anxiety was about the line standing the strain.

It did, thank Godl And for such a. length of time
that we no longer dcspaired of it; indeed, began to
feel cheerful, after a fashion. For there seemed at
least achance of our outliving the gale, whatever
might come after.

To encourage us in this hope, our commander, all
along depressed by the thought of having been the
cause of our misfortunes—as in truth was he—said,
with an air of light concern evidently assumed:

“ I wonderwhat’s the depth here? It can‘t be very
great with a drug’s line reaching the surface—that
in a slant, too. Suppose we sound and see. In a
waliy it may be worth while."

0 one objecting, steps were taken to ascertain
the soundings. A codfish line chanced to be in the
boat, which we had been using but a few days be-
fore; Bristol Bay being a fishing-ground for cod, not
so assed by the Banks of Newfoundland.

“ ‘orty-scven fathomsl” called out the. mate,
after throwing over the lead, and looking to the line-
marks. “Not so deep but. that this whale might be
saved if a ship had good hold on him, and the wea-
ther at all favorable. \Vell, let’s hope, mules, our
hold won't fetch away. And I don‘t think it vill—
no fear of it."

His attempt at being cheerful was belied by the
tone of his voice: this betraying apprehension, as
we could all )erceive. And no wonder. For the
gale was now p1ping louder and horde r, our situation
becoming every moment more perilous. The short
chopping swell raised by the wmd as it stirred up
the sea, tossed our little craft to and fro as an empty
egg-shell; while the water combing in over the bows
kept us constantly bailing as for near life. But we
knew it would have been worse with the boat run—
ning before it, and so kept to our old anchorage as
the only means and chance of safety.

It stood us in rood stead' for we succeeded in
clinging to it despite every e ort of wind and wave
to dislodge us; held on to it throughout the rest of
that day, and into the night. But not far into the

. night, before there came a change in our favor, due

to an incident unexpected as singular.

The a athy of despair had settled down upon us
as the arkness over the deep, for we had still but
slight hope of being Ohio to withstand the tempest
till morningi We were all dead-wearied bailing out
the boat w ch made water fast as ever. So hope-
less, indeed, that some were half inclined to leave
off, and let things take their course. Fatal it would
have been had we not persisted. But just as we had
reached the yielding point arose the incident I have
spoken of as singular. It was announced by our
commander crying out:

“ The line’s slac ed, and we’re drifting to leeward!
It’s either parted or we’ve drawn the iron. God help
us, if we have 1” he added, in a tone of increased ap-
prehension.

“ I don’t think it’s that, sir," said Grummell.
“More like the whale’s fetched away, an’s comin’
11p. I‘ve knowed 0’ sich a thing afore.’

“ Gather in the slack, and see!” commanded the

mate.
We clutched at the drug~line, and com. ,aced'
hauling in. But before we had made half-a~dozen
over hand, the voice of the old whalesman

’l’he Scotch ship must ’a‘ gold .

 

‘sions and store of water.

 

again broke upon our ears, now in joyous exclama-
tion:

" Hurrah! jest as I saycd it was.
up. high an‘ dry!"

Looking to windward. we saw an immense dark
mass. which we knew to he a whale‘s body, spring-
ing suddenly up, till it stood half its own bulk above
the surface: while our ears were saluted by a series
of loud snaps like the cracking of whips. with a hiss-
in;.r between as of steam making es 'ape!

- The rising of the whole was. of course, due 'to
natural causes. Dead for some (lavs, it had become

Thar he comes

partly decomposed. and l‘t‘lhlt‘l't‘tl lighter by ill“, gen- ‘

crated gases, till its huoyancyat length overcame
the weight of the
brought it up.
force exerted by our boat bearing on the drug-line,
had no doubt hastened its upheaval; at first slow,
but with increased vclocitv. till it was tossed to the
surface with sudden abrnptness, as a volcanic island
opt-11st by latent forces from belozv.

Unquestionably it was thesnvinfr of us. as but for
it our i'rnil craft- was surely doomed to destruction.
It cmne in the “nick of time,”too: for. on the in
stunt after, three tremendous seas swept over the
spot, one of which would have ingull'ed US.

We, need have no four new, boys!" spokethemate,
in a tone of clieeri'ulness no longer counterfeit.
"The whole will give us a. Michin which we may
I‘itlc safe as in Redford harbor. See how it‘s smooth-
cd round us alrr - 

Such was the i: t understandable to all of us. It
was liltinzily as “ oil poure ion the troubled waters."
the oil-agiuous e):1=u:.tion from the l:nh'-:leconipozml
'arcass floating off leopard. and forming a list of
comparatively :‘rnooth \Vutel', wider than the body
of the great cetaeean itself. Over this enchanted
ground the seas no longer- broke, scarce venturing
within its limits: and though still raging around
with unabated fury, winds bowling and waves roar-
ing ascver, we could now listen to them with less
fear, almost with equanllnit‘y. Still loss regarded
we the shrieking of the sea-birds, hitherto seeming
ominous of an evil t'ute,tho1:::h they were now in
greater numbers around us; some perched upon the
whale, others settled down in the slick ~ as ourselves,
for shelter. No more recked we of the chill hyper-
borean blasts, nor that odor of aught but Araby
borne bythem to our nostrils. It was a stench that,
under other circumstances, might have been in-
tolerable, unendurable. But not so to us there and
then, who had reason to endure, almost delight in
it; knowing that the putrid mass from which it
emanated, between us and the wind. was, possibly,
the only thing between us and a watery grave.

“It has proved a perfect godsend," pronounced
Grummell. after Seeing how it insured our safety.
“And, sir," he added, addressing himself to the
mate, “if this had been Mr. Coffln‘s boat ’stead o’
yourn, he’d ’a‘ ordered us all on our knees to gi‘e
thanksgivin’ for ’t."

The old whalesman meant neither rebuke nor re-
preach to Mr. Ransom for not doing likewise. In-
stead, the very oppmite, for Gl'ummcll was rather a
weak-kneed Christian, and his re. mrk was of the
scorner's kind, intended as a jest. But the young
officer, though more cheerful now, was not in the
mood for jesting. He felt responsibilities still
weighing heavily upon him, and rejoined in grave,
serious tone:

“ Mr. Collin might have been right to do so. We
owe Heaven 8. thanksgiving, if ever men owed it.
Just think of our posilion but; ten minutes ago, and
see what it is now! Here we are riding safe between
walls of water as the Israelites in the, Red Sea. One
can't help thinking that the hand of the Omnipotent
has had something to do with it. Let us so believe
it, then, and do as Mr. Coffin would have donecgive
thanks to God for this miraculous mercy.”

The young officer‘s appeol was all the more ow-
erz'ul from our knowledge of his character—anyt ing
but of the Puritan type. It was not needed, how—
ever. One and all of us felt the gratitude he was
asking us to give—had already given it in'our hearts,
if not with our lips.

    

CHAPTER XXVIII.
sun IN Tm: “sucx.”

Tnnononom‘ the remainder of the night we lay in
the whale " slick," feeling safe for the time. but
withal filled with anxiety as to the future. What
would the morning reveal to us? Would it but
show us . the Seas mountains hl 'h, in the same
drear monotony as of esterday? 6r might our eyes
be gladdened by the sight of a ship? Even one bat-
tlin ' with the storm would give us hope' for she
mig it descry the smooth water of the slick and
make for it, as ships in foul weather often do.

So ran our thoughts and conjectures, hope and
fear in turns uppermost, till the sun rose again. But
not to cheer us; instead, deepening our despondency.
Its beams of a sickl yellowish hue, thrown aslant
the waves showed t em in wild commotion as ever
and lashed by a wind in which there was no sign of
abatement.

It seemed almost useless to mount up the mast
and look abroad. No ship was likely to be there, for
any caught in such a storm would be almost sure to
lie-to; and as there was none visible at the sun‘s go-
ing down, the chances of our seeing one now were
poor indeed.

Still one might have been “scudding” before the
wind, which w uld make ndifference; and, however
faint our hopes, instinct impelled us to turn our eyes
to the sea. ,

As before, the mate mounted to the clumsy cleet,
and after him Grummell. lloth to come down again,
with the same dismal tale—no sail seen, nothing.

Our thoughts now turned to our stock of provi-
What was there left of

sup»Irincnmlwnt water. and:
The agitation oi thesea With the,

 

them? A question of more importance than ever,
its seriousness each hour increasing.

With fair weather and favoring wind, there had
been a chance, of their holding out till we reached
the Foxes. But delayed by the storm——a thing we,
had not taken into calculation—that chance u as not
only diminished. but well-nigh gone.

While the biscuits were being counted as apro-
liminary to eating the sparest of breakfasts, and
the water-keg gauged to ascertain its exact contents,
Mr. l-lnusom, with uni npaired faith in my keenness
of vision. handed me his telescope, saying:

“Mount up, Macy, and taken. look around.”

I did as connnninled: to see. alnmst as soon as I
had got steadied on the alert, with the. glass to my
eye. what eladalbned my heart, as my words must
have done that of every one in the boat on hearing
me cry out, " Sail ho!"

No soil was if. either. in a literal sense, since I saw
not a rag of canvas. Only the top timbers of a ship,
bare spars. and rope rigging, which oucillated to and
fro. see-st] w fashion, over Ihe conibingof a wave.

" \'\'hereai.vay ?" calh-d up our boat’s commander.

“Starboard bow. sir. inclining to beam.”

She was doing this: for while i watclu (i her I could
See she fell oil' scvernl points to lemvard.

“What do you iliahe her out?" interrogated the
mate; “barqueorsiiip?” .

“Ship, sir: square-rigged on the niizzen~a large
vessel. ’

M y answer lit-got (
hope of its being al

" \Vhat‘s she (l: ' ”

Just (hi-n tlr. ,. , {‘(‘l‘ vas heaved up on a swell,
enabling me to gne a correct reply:

"Lying—to under goose-winged maintopsail, and
stornrs .,,'S:‘.ils."

“(.‘ome down; and let me have a squint at her.“

Of course it was the mate who thus ctmunanded:
and I dropped hack into the boat, returning him his
telescope. ‘

Up he went, taking my place and bringing the glass
to his eye. Then, after a second or two spent in ex-
amining the strange ship, he cried out:

" By Jupiter! It’s the Scotch whaler; the very
vessel whose drug we‘ve got in our boat. I remem—
her her rig to a rope. And lying-to, as you've said,
Macy; but losing ground to leeward. So much the
better for us. ‘twill bring her the nearer."

Needless to say, we were all now in a state of the
highest excitement. One more chance for life hat
)resented itself; a tolerahly sure one, should om
Situation become known to the people on board the
Scotch shi ).

But would it? That was the question still doubt-
ful of answer Falling back before the wind. her—
self doing battle with it, she, Would soon be on our
beam. But even then at a distance of not less than
a sea league; while over such a rough. ragged sur-
face, our speck of a boat stood slight chance of
being: descried. The huge cetacean buoyed hiin
above the water by its inflating gases had a better—
this by good luck in our favor.

“Out with the flag, and run it upl" commanded
the mate. “That will do something. Fortunately,
there's a clear sky, and the wind will keep the hunt-
in at full spread.”

g(Suick as could be, it was hoisted to the mast‘s
head, and fluttered out to its full, cracking like a
W 11 .

Bilit to elicit no answering signal from the Scotch
shi ); certainly she did not see us.

lgy this she was nearly abeam, and still dropping
down wmd, so fast as to bring all our fears back
again more intense than ever. We had enjoyed a.
gleam of hope, which seemed given but to tantalize
us. And now it was about to fox-Sure and again
cast us into the depths: of despair. For if the ship
held on to her course involuntary as \Vr- knew it was,
she would, ere long, 9 out of sight again, and then
what of us?

No one asked the question, for it needed neither
asking nor answering. All knew that (lenrh threat-
ened us, if noc by drowning, from hunger and thirst.
That it was imminent. too; for our store of food and
drink, now taken stock of, had proved less than ex—

ected. There was but enough for one meal— that
reakfasc which might be our last.

Visions of prospective hunger and thirst with all
the horrors appertaining, were in our min ‘5 eye as
we watched the movements of the strange vessel,
with earnest, eager endeavor to interpret every
maneuver she made.

She is abeain now, and there is no longer doubt as
to what ship she is. Certainly the Smtch whalei,
the Highlander, of Aberdeen. This could be told
without the telescope; for we had all seen her in the
Polar Basin several times, and once our barque has
spoken her while cruising on the same ground.
Vould we could speak her now! What would we
not have given to be sure of some on board of her
catching sight of our boat?

To these anxious, though unexpressed, interroga-
tories we received no checn’ng response, none of any
kind. No signal-flag ran she up answering ours; no
change of sail to tell she had sighted us. Still
surely was she falling off before the wind, and faster
than ourselves; for we. too, whale and all, were

lisappointment. There had been
ill'u'llic—UUI‘ O‘vVll.

   
      
 

‘ .

 

  

, making lee way. In time, and soon, she would pass

out of sight again, leaving us lone and 10m.

In their impatience. some of the boat’s crew pro-
posed cutting loose from the whale and making an
attempt to get nearer to the passmg ship, by ours
or otherwise.

“ Impossible!“ pronounced our commander, as he
ran his eyes over the billows between a very chaos
of fierce, foaming water. “ The boat wouldn’t live
in that sea for a. minute—not a second. No, boys!
Our only chance of safety is_the slick, and we must
stick to it. Odd. too, the ship not noticing that; one

would suppose—"

 

 

.—6.«, .._A

....._ u._..hn.

 

 

 

 

 

15

 

 

 

‘1
, He broke off abruptly, and for a second or two
was silent. Then continuing in changed tone:

" I believe she has sighted it; else what’s her head
falling ofli fcr? Can it be but a yau‘ .’ Vhat do you
think of it, Grumniell?"

“ That ain’t no yaw, sir. nothin’ like it,” responded
the old whalesman, in a slow, deliberate draw], which
jarred witll our anxious impatience. “ Sure enough
she ha’ got sight o‘ the slick, or the whale itself wi‘
our boat beside, an‘s keepin’ off to examine ’eni.”

Certainly the. ship's head had fallen otl‘ more than
is usual for a vessel making to lie—to. and with sus-
pended breath we watched for her next move—
ment.

It was delight to us to see her mizzen staysail (-ol-
lapse and go down with a run, a Sign in our favor.
Still she might be wearing round for the other tack.
But not Herlielm met her again, and obedient to
it, we saw her turn her head toward us. Ilurrahl

Simultaneous was our cheer. and never was lustier
sent forth from six pairs of lungs weak as ours were
then. For the combined and long-continued strain
of toil and anxious vigil had done its work, enfeeb-
ling mind as body.

“We‘re seen, shipmtesl" called out our young
commander, in a joyous, confident voice. “ And
we'll be saved if it's possible for the Scotch veSSel to
bring up alongside us. As I know, she’s well
manned, and her crew every one of them an A. B.
See how she’s behaving! There’s asight for a sea-
man!”

And it was, a s lcndid sight, as we were all in the
mood to admit. ejoiced were. we. at beholding the
grand three-master now rising majestically on the
ridge of a wave, now dipping into the troughs be-
tween, but still making toward us by a series of
maneuvers that iroclaimed the masterly skill and
judgment with w iich she was managed. It elicited
cheer after cheer from our little boat‘s crew, now
pretty sure of being saved. We could not withhold
admiration from the gallant men hastening to our
rescue at life’s risk to themselves. For this they
were in reality undergoing, every movement made
by their ship in that troubled sea being attended
with the greatest danger.

Our suspense came to an end when the huge ves-
sel sagged down upon us, and dextercusly pitched a.
rope into our boat. We caught and were ready to
haul upon it before sliplping t e drug line that still
attached us to the wha e. But the operation of get-
ting under the ship’s lee was a. delicate one, and be—
fore we were close enough to spring up to her chains
she had forged on past, almost outside the limits of
the slick. ‘

Her crew were clustered in the waist and swarm-
ln along the rail; men with bronzed. bearded faces,
w 0 looked down on us in kindly sympath , their
arms outstretched to lay hold on us at the i rst op-
portunity. One moment they would be twenty feet
overhead, in the next so close that the tips of their
fingers almost touched ours; but were too far off to
be. of help. Carefully, watchfully, we waited for the
favoring chance; and as again the ship rolled scup-
poi-s ti, we heard the encouraging words:

" Gather in now—now f”

It was well timed, and my com anions were all
caught and hoisted up. I alone eing left in the
boat. In my eagerness I had tripped, and fallen
Over a thwart.

But the same kind faces were still above, the same
dexterous hands ; and in an instant after half
a dozen ropes, with bowlines at their ends, were
flun to me. Clutching one, and slipping it over my
hem and under my arms, I gave tie signal by a.
wave of my hand, to feel myself jerked lightly up
and landed on the rail.

I was saved, but not a. moment too soon. For in
her next roll the ship‘s main channel came down
upon the boat, that, yielding like a chip. capsized
and filled. Then, with another heave of the hu e
vessel, the warp snapde as a. rotten thread, and t e
gallant little craft, which had so long withstood the
shock of stormy seas, was tossed off—a broken,
shattered wreck. We, her late crew, saw this with
a sense of pain, almost as though it were a human
creature—one of ourselves—about being abandonedl

 

Six weeks later, as on board the Highlander, we

' lay in the outer anchorage at Honolulu, a. vessel,

barque-rigged, was descried bearing around Dia-
mond Hen , which we easily recognized as our own
—the Fl ing Cloud. It was into the night before the
rattle 0 her chains told she had chosen a berth, and
was casting anchor, at but a short distance from the
Scotch ship. .

The generous skipper of this placed his gig at our
service, and without losing a moment we pulled off
for the barque. _

“Boat ahoyl" came the hall as we drew near.
-'Who are you?” '

“ Castaway Clouds," returned Mr. Ransom. " From
Bristol Ba . ’

“God b ess me!" we could hear Captain Drlnk-
water exclaim, at the same time seeing him spring
up on the rail. “Can it be possible? Ransom, is
that you r”

“ Ay. ay. sir."

“ And the others? Are they all with you?"

“Every one, sir! They're all here, in the boat.“

“God be praised!” he e'aculated in avoice chok-
Inglmth emotion. Possib y at that moment he re-
ca ed another castaway boat that had got back. to
the barque with one of its crew mysteriously miss-
mg. And like as not Mr. Coffin may have been
th nkingothe same; for we heard his voice, too, in
devout ne, adding an “ Amen!"

We we 0 soon on board the barque, receiving the
congratu ations of our old comrades who danced
about the deck with joy. And our tale being told
we got theirs in return. For days thcc‘y had cruised

er the ground where we had par from them.

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

searching far and near, liopinrr against hope. And
failing to find us, they had at ength given it up, in
the belief our boat could not possibly liaVe survn'ed
the gale, which had been the heaviest of that Si ason.

Independent] ' of thedelight we, telt at being once
more on bOill‘t our (lL‘JI' old barque, it was a line
sight, t \ witin ss the behavior of ln-r skipper. An ex-
hibition of humanity, true and grand, was that of
the brave man shedding tears. as he recein d us on
the quarter—deck. embracing us one afteranotlier.
An episode, none of us \vere ever likely to forget; no
mrre than we hrd forgot‘en (lo-ll: nn rcy in having
preserved our lives, by inc ins almost miraculous.

(YIIAP'I‘FJ’. XXIX.
A sue Tnnoi‘on Tin: SI'RF.

raise. the interval of fart-ed separation from our
comrades of the Flying Cloud, they had killed an-
other whale; odd enough, the very one we had been
compelled to cut loose fiom. \\'ith Mr. Rinsmn's
harnoon in him. and severalhundred fathoms of line
trailing after, the old “ iiOi"-wester ” had turned up
again near the barque, before thegale set in. and
was secured by the first mate‘s boat. This complet-
ing the Clouds cargo, she was on her way home,
and had put in at Honolulu, solely to inquire if any
hinneward-bound whalers had called there, and
whether anything had been heard of us. With little
hope, however; and so much greater the joy of our
old sliipmates on our rejoining them.

Once more back in le Bedford, and all hands
having had their proportion of the profits dealt
out to them—rather a handsome dividend—I was
this time less derelict of filial duty, and so paida
visit to my mother. It was now I learned that ad-
versity had overtaken her; which, luckily, I was able
to relieve.

All the more need formy continuing a sea life, and
some reason why she should no longer object to it;
which she (lid not. I had grown to be amar, and
she seemed much )leascd with me; glad to think her
wayward son ha: turned out better than she ex-
pected, llioinh :-l,".ll without any higher distinction
or title than the right to attach to his name the two
initial letters of the alphabet. A. B.

Possibly the old pride of having had a naval officer
for her iusband was a little taken down, by the
thought of her son beianr only a common sailor.
But, if so, before bidding her good-by again, I had
the pleasure of communicating a fact which had in
it something in the way of compemation. Tit reached
me in a letter from New Redford, hearing the signa-
ture of Captain Drinkwatcr, with contents as fol-
lows:

“DEAR MACY: I am fitting out the Cloud for an-
other bout at blubber-huuting; this time to try the
other twooceans—:‘itlantic and Indian. So, if you’re
still inclined for the ‘Chase of Leviathan,’ and will
continue it on board the old barque, I can ofl’er you
a berth. I’ve chosen all my ofiicei‘s except the sec-
ond mate; and if you care to be that. the post is at
your service. I’ll keep it open till I hear from you.

“ Cordially yours, R. DRIXKWATER.

“ P. S.—Coffln’s not oing with me on this voyage.
Bostock of the Saucy arah, bound for somewhere
in the South Atlantic, has offered him temptin,
terms, and he has acoeptcd them. But I hope and
rather think, his defection from the Cloud won‘t be
the cause of yours. R. D.”

The “ rather think," underlined as it was, struck a
responsive chord in in heart; of itself some reason
for accepting the pos offered me, Despite all m
wish to have a friendly feeling for Lige Coffin
could not; could never forget that scene when wi h
his whale-spear held threateninglv over my head, he
called out to me: “ Remember Bi !"

Of course, I wrote back to Captain Drinkwater ac-
ceptance of his offer. with all due expressions of
thankfulness therefor. And the day after, following
11 "3’ letter, I was once more on board the Flying
C on . But not as before. Now feeling different in
every way, with the right to tread her quarter-deck,
and intrusted with a high command. ‘

Ifound other changes besides that of the first of-
ficer. Grover, the third was gone, too, with many
of the old hands. They had left her. not from any
8 la! dissatisfaction, but solely that stinctive de-
sxre for change peculiar to men who ma. 6 the sea a.
profession, and more than any those who follow up
its most attractive specialty—whale-chasing.

 

Fitted out complete for our new enterprise, we set
sail again, and ran down the Atlantic, in shortest
course for the Indian Ocean. Should we fail to ob-
tain a. full cargo in the latter, it was our intention to
take the former on our wa. home, for filling up.

Putting into Cape Town or a supply of fresh ro-
visions and water, we there heard of cetaceans av-
ing of late appeared in great plenty along the East
African coast, and especially around Madagascar.
Enough to justify a deviation from the point we
originally aimed at—tbis Kerguelen’s Land, other-
wise known as the “ Isle of Desolation.”

Choosing the Mozambique Channel for our first
cruising2ground, we were in it without delay, looking
right an left for Leviathan. ' Soon to discover that
the tales we had been told were neither more nor
less than downright fabrications meant to mislead
us. The Cape Whalers had themselves gone to Ker-
gue en’s Land and it was not desire. le that we,
strangers to t 6 South African port, should have
an t1slhare in the great “catch " expected to come
0 ere.

Disgusted with the deception that had been prac-
ticed u on us, and our want of luck in the Mozam-
bique haunel, we determined to leave it without
loss of time, and strike for our original destination.
But_ needing some ship’s stores, we brought to op-
posite one of the ports on the East African coast; a

l

 

 

mistarable settlement of the colonial kindI acknowl-
edging the rule of the Braganzas.

The captain himself first Went ashore, to make
sure the required articles could be had, before brill:-
ing the, harque into the anchorage. I was Wltll lnm
in charge of the boat. and we supposed everything
could be done in an hour or two.

How little did we. understand the crooked ways of
Pl>i'tll;.'11.'t e diplomacy! 'v'e learnttlienl there, how-

' iv a lesson longer than we had anticipated, or
was agreeable to us. Jr. that olircure corner of the
King of Portugal's dominious there was as much
iedtape as it' it had been the port of Lisbon itself.
No business could be transacted without sanction of
the “authorities,” and those of the Custom House
were a swarm of garrulous officials who lowered
lazily about without seeming ever to do anything.
As a result of their supiiieness the wl.« ulc day passed,
and s: ill our errand was unach nnpli:-he(1.

I had left one man in the boat, to take care of her.
allowing the others to stretch their legs on land,
myself among the number. Several hours were-
spent strolling about the place, luxuriating on
oranges, and other tropical fruits, while we made
study of the odd specimens of humanity presented.
to us in the “ Ethiopian Portugcc." But long before
nighi, having had enough both of them and their
fruit, we returned to the boat, and there awaited.
the captain.

It was twilight when he came down to the land-
ing; then only to let us know that not having fin-
ished his business, he intended staying on shore for
the night.

“Take the boat back, Mr. Macy.” he said to me:
“and see to keeping the Cloud close in as is pru-
dent, so that she may be ready to run up to the an-
chorage early in the morning.”

As already said, the barque had not yet been
brought to anchor, but was lying off and on outside,
till sure we could get the things.

“By the way,” he added, “I’ve engaged a pilot to
run her in, and you'd better take him on board with
you. Herehc is.”

At which he. introduced me to a man who was
saunterino behind; a sallow half-caste. wearing a.
hat with ’hrim broad as a s read umbrella, and
whom h addressed by the igli-sounding name,
Senor Sa vador.

"Bear a hand,” said the captain, in conclusion,
“and get within sight of the barque’s lights as soon
as possible. It‘s looking lowery out in the .weather
quarter."

 

And with this last word of caution, he turned back:

toward the town.

I could see it was looking lowery ahead, and so.

also could Senor Salvador, who seemed greatly dis--
inclined to o with us. But the captain having
booked him, e stepped into the boat, and priding
himself on his proficiency in the English tongue,
said as we shoved off:

" >ad tempcomewlookee onner.”

“Goin’ to blow, e think? ’ asked the man at the
midrhip oar, an 01( salt whose knowledge of Portu-

iese was about on a par with the other’s English.

‘ So ler, eh, vent?"

“ ent, no—no mooch," was the pilot’s confident
answer; “ more rim ire—water. ”

“ on let it xhrme, if that‘s a1 ,” rejoined the oars-
man; ‘ we ain’t either salt or sugar. Just you olier
for the ship‘slights, Master Broadbrim, an’ we’ll
soon set ye on board 0‘ her.”

“Sir—8i, goot! me save . Pool right head.”

While this quaint die. 0 e was passing, we shot
swiftly out throu h the sti waters of the bay, un-
der the impulse 0 long and regular oar-strokes, till
the tossing motion of our light craft admonished us
we had met the swell of the broad Indian Ocean. By
this time the night's darkness was down, darker
from the sky having become thickly overcast, while
a few large rain—drops clouting ainst our cheeks
seemed t e ominous forerunner o a heavy fall, such
as only the tropics know.

Straining my eyes about, I looked for the barque’s‘

Ii hts, but they were nowhere to be seen. Nor yet,

ter we had rowed a considerable distance further
out; not a spark or gleam was visible anywhere.

The ilot was seated in the stem-sheets beside me;
and, his face being close to mine, I could note on it
an expression of uneasiness, if not actual alarm.
Evidently he was taught but satisfied with. the situ~
ation.

“What is your opinion of it, Senor Salvador?” I
asked, in the most intelligible lingo at my command.

“ Dat we better put back-go shore ’gain,” was the
discouraging rejoxnder.

“ No, we can’t do that, senor, and sha’n’t try to,
yet. It would never do to give it up so short. Boys!’

called to the crew, “ I know how the barque bears,

or ought to bear, and we’re on the right course for-

her. So pull ahead! We’ll soon raise her lights.”
But we didn’t. After rowing for nearly another
mile, not ,a scintillation of them sparkled up to de-
light our e es.
Giving t e word to cease work with the oars, at
the same time ordering the men t9 keep their eyes
about them, I got out the lantern with the fireworks,

and hoisted our own light on a waif-pole, hoping the.

banque’s people In ht see it. . .

A vain ope and oomed to disappointment. '1'"°re
was no responsive signal.

By this we were in the midst of hi waves, some-
thing more than the ordinary ln-swe . For, besides
the threatening rain, gusts of wind had begun to
blow fierce and violent enough to raise white crests
around us. So when the timorous half-caste _
made up to me to put bgck I was no longerin
the m to deny him. I fel less reluctance in ac-
ceding to his request as it was rather to be ed
in the ht of a command. He was the e

pilot, on would have to hear at least a part of he.

responsibility. Some calm to my feelings In

 

‘ out”.

 

 

chew"..- ,,»,r , ~r,' ._ —' W»: ,fi-,-,.V ..._,. , . v, ,II,,_.“.

16

The Chase of Leviathan.

 

 

Besides, I now supposed that our first mate, foresee-
ir‘iag a. storm, had run the barque further up shore for
s ety; and to attempt reaching her now in our
cockle-shell of a craft, even thoragh we were sure of
the direction, would be attende with utmost danv

ger.
Fortified with these reflections, I at length gave
the order:
“Boat about 1”

CHAPTER XXX.
A FANDANGO. ,‘ _

TURNING to row back, we saw we were not yet out
of our dilemma. For neither was there light in that
direction nor aught else to guide us. After clearing
the harbor on our way outward, we had rounded a
rocky spit, which cut off all view of the town, with
its three or four dimly-burning lamps; and our pull
back was no better than blind guessing.

Broadbrim, however, proved of more service with
his face landward than when it was set to the sea,
every inch of the shore seeming familiar to him.
For all, he could not possrbly see the land; and, in
giving us steering directions, must have trusted to his
ears more than his eyes. And there was something
for him to hear, heard by by all of us, causing keen
apprehension; the roar of breakers seeming con-
tinuous all along the shore line, making a milk way
that even through the obscurity could be istin-
guished by its luminous phosphorescence.

To make matters worse, the rain was now on,
pouring down in torrents-I might say sheets—still
further blindin us. Its first dash drenched us to
the skin, thong 1 we lit:le regarded the soaking. In
that hot atmosphere We rather liked, aml would
have reveled in it, but for the ugl, sound inshore.
Besides, it called for bailing out t 16 boat, else she
would soon have filled.

Ladlin away and pulling on, we at length dis-
cerneda ight on the land. A mere glinnner, as if
from a farthing dip, seemingly shining out through
a small window.

“Dat my house!" exclaimed the half-caste, soon
as sighting it. “Poolee for it, senor-s!" he added.
" Straiwht in !” v

I hailjmy doubts about the prudence of accepting
this direction. But he was the pilot of the port, am
should know all. I could not well refuse. So or—
dered the boat's head set for the light.

Before another dozen oar-strokes had been given,
I saw that we were on the (xlge of a broad sheet of
foam, extending right and left; apparently the wa-
ter breaking over a shoal reef with such violence as
would surely wreck us if we ran onto it.

“Stern alli” I shouted, at highest pitch of my
voice. “Back oars; back!”

Obedieut, the boat‘s crew backed and pulled off
till we felt ourselves in safe water. Then. turning
to the ilot to demand his reasons for giving us
such a c 050 shave, I saw he was not there. The seat
he had lately occupied beside me was blank!

Was he elsewhere in the boat? The question I
put to the men; 'for, in the darkness, he might have
shifted to another place without my perceivin it.
But to my astonishment came the answer “ o!”

' from stem to stern, the crew sharing my surprise at

his disappearance.

Some sadness there was, too; all of us under the
belief that the unfortunate man was gone over-
board, to be swallowed u by that ravenous surf.
By the sudden backingo the boat he must have
lost balance, and got jerked over the rail.

I felt especial] sorrowful, thinking the disaster
due to myself, owever little intending it. But,
while we lay-to, listening, my feelings underwent a
change, more easil imagined than described as a
voice came over t e seething water, gleefully in-
toned,sayin :

“Goot-nig t sebors! Poolee on roun' de pzmta.
Den yOu see do port lights. Half-mile more, you
reafih ,de praha, where you beach de boat. Goot‘

ti

here could be no doubt of its being Senor Sal-
vador who thus called to us, nor anyl that he was
safe on shore. But how he had made is way there,
across that white tract between,was a matter of mys-
tery to all of us. We could only account for it b
the sup osition, that, from his intimate acquain -
ance w1t the surf—at his own door, as it were—he
knew the trick of (getting through it.

Still, what coul be his motive for so taking leave
of us, unceremoniously, and without a word of
warningas to his intention? That was a question
for us to speculate upon, though not there or then.
We were too anxious to round the punk; and reach
the mild according to his directions, and without
furt er delay we to owed them.

In fine, to our satisfaction, after turnin the spit,
we got once more within the harbor wit the port
lights in view, though barely discernible throu h the
rain which still poured own as out of ‘ hes.
Bearing for them, we in time arrived at the land-
ing-place; and leaping ashore, made the boat fast
to moorin

Wet as rowned rats we proceeded on up to the
town in search of a shelter. But it was now after
midnight, and the houses all shut, everybody seem-
in ly abed. The only exception was a large mud
ca m we passed on our way to the plaza whose oc-
cupants, whatever they might be, were certainly up
and awake. While hurrying b it we observed a
light streaming through a sma aperture of open

unglazed window, out of which also came a hum of
many voices, with the “tink-a-tink " of some
stringed instrument, ban 0 or bandolon.

Finding no other estab hment open, we returned
to this music-hall of mud, not for the sake of its
harmony, but in the hope of finding a tire to get dry
8

t.
Knocking at the door, after some delay it was
opened, by a man of stalwart size and coal-black

 

skin, a veritable Mozambique negro; who, in the
lingo of his country demanded our business there.
Before we could ma e reply, another man a peared
by his side; to our amazement, he who ad late
taken French leave of us. He had changed his
drtess, and was now got-up in grand flg, evidently ea
c e.
“ Ah, senorsl” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“As ee see, I’ve got here afo’ you; glad to speak
you welcome; come in all! De place am a leetle
it crowded, but we make room for ye. We’s be
31o doin’ some dance, an' your worship will honor us
om.

He was hardly correct in describing the place as a
“leetle'bit crowded.” It was crammed to suffoca-
tion; and by a motley assemblage of humanity,
such as could only be met with among the African
Portuguese. There were men of every mixture and
shade of complexion, from pale sickly yellow to jet—
black; women, too, of like varied hues. For we had
intruded Il‘rllpon a fanclzmgo—a ball of the lowest
classes of ozambique society.

The steam that met us on t e opening of the door,
with the odors which saluted our nostrils, was en-
ough to daunt against entering. But we had set
foot upon the threshold, and could not decently
withdraw. So, accepting Senor Salvador"s “in-
Vite,” with the best grace possible, we followed him

1n.

To find, that he was a sort of head man, or manag-
ing commissary of the entertainment, with full con—
trol over the refreshments. Thesc,which be dis-
pensed to us with hospitable hand, consisted chiefly
of fruits, the solid portion of them. But there was
liquid also, avile spirit of the ay/uardiente species.
strong enough to upset the stomach of the oldest
and toughest blubbor—hunter among us. -Nolens 7'0-
lrns, we could not refuse drinking it, though we did
so with wr faces.

Sm‘lorSa vador was in high glee, and full of 710n-
Izmm'e toward myself. While hob-nobbing with
him, I sought an explanation of his presence there,
and how he had contrived to get ashore through the
surf. The latter he made light of, telling Inc it was
an oasy thing for onowho knowthc way. But in
snatches of conversation, necessarily brief in the
midst of a ball, he failed to make the way clear to
me. As to his getting to the town before us, that
was understandable enough. From the point where
he parted with us. he had only to cross a narrow
isthmus, while we were pulling a long reach round
tbcIieninsula.

‘1: ' hit why did you not come on along with us?” I
as '(‘(l.

“Ah, senor, you no savey why? My house on de
odcr tide—you sec um. My wife dcre too. Ise bonn’
take sheto do fandango; bring on wif me. She here
now. Your worship, ’low rue hor introduce.”

At which, without further speech, I was favored
with an introduction to the Sonora Salvador. A
sprightly dame she was—a quadroon—young and
rather comely, with an evident inclination to flirting.
After a few minutes spent in her company. it oc-
curred to me, that this propensity on her part might
have had something to do with her husband’s reluc-
tance to spend the night on board our barque, and
possibly rendered him less re ardful of danger in
taking that shortcut through t 1e surf. For he knew
she would be at the fandango with or without him.

However that may have been, we of the boat’s
crew were not long inside the mud cabin, till we
wished ourselves out of it. \Vhat with the crowded
room the steam from wet gamncnts—not only our
own, but of others that had entered in a like state of
soak—the smell of oran e eel, vile spirits, and to-
bacco smoke— above allt 1a peculiar, and peculiarly
disagreeable odor which proceeds from the body of
the thiopian in a state of perspiration—what with
all these, we felt far from enjoying the fandango.
So, soon as we could find a decent excuse for leav—
ing, we left it, despite all the vn'tcheries of the Sen-
ora Salvador to retain us, and the downpour of
rain still continuing outside.

Under oin a fresh« douche, we hastened back
toward he cart of the town in search of more
savory quarters. But before reaching the plaza, we
came opposite a house, larger and o more preten-
tious st 10 than the common, with an open shed
alon si eit. The shed looked snug and tempting;
at al events it offered shelter from the rain, and as
no better might be found, we turned in under it,
every rag on our backs running water.

Luckily the night was warm, of true tro ical heat,
and so the wetting less discommoded us. e rather
relished it, and would have been comfortable enough
but for the musketoes, that, like ourselves, had re-
treated under .cover to escape the rain. But our
companions in misfortune proved an ht but pleas-
ant ones; instead, took advan e o the situation
to bite and sting us (i. l’outrance. ot a wink of slee
did any of nesmget, till the morning’s light, as wit
witches, cha them awa . Then we stretched our
wearied limbs along the cor of the shed, on some
litter which chanced to be there, and became for a
time oblivious.

.——.
a

CHAPTER XXIII.
ran sosrnc'rso PrLo'l.

Tnonoosmx fagged out with the long ll of
pulling and other work of the night, we d not
awake till an hour after the sun was up. Then, ris.
ing from the litter, and givin ourselves a shake to
Egg clear of filth and count ess fleas, I thought it

t to communicate with the captain before re—
turning on board the barque, which, of course now
an the proming’s light we would have no difficulty in

esc ng.

So, ving sent the men back to the boat-landing
I was setting out to look him up, when a window 0

 

__ i

the big house beside which we had slept was thrown
open, and lo! the skipper’s face in it, with neck
craned out and eyes bent u n mel

Our surprise was mutna ; but before I oouki r9
cover from mine, he called out:

“ God bless me ! Mac , you there I What‘s
bro ht you ashore? Not ng gone wrong on the
Clou , I hope.”

“ 1 ho e not, sir. But for that I can‘t answer."

“ Can t answerl Why?"

“Because I haven’t been on board of has, dnu
you left us.”

“The deuce you haven‘t! Explain yoursol', Mr.

Mid."
ich I did, giving him a detailed account of all
that had transpired since we parted with him at the

ding.

“ Odd the pilot having given you the slip that
wa ,"he observed, reflectingly. “ To say nothin
of is own danger. But I suppose he’s familiar wi
the reef you speak of, and t ere wasn‘t much dan-
ger after all. Still, why the devil should he have
run any risk, seeing there was no need for it 1"

I was about to make answer, giving the pilot‘s
own explanation, when the captain broke out again,
exclaiming:

“ By J upiterl I think I know why, now—the cun-
ning scoundr ) l”

Saying whit he drew his head back within the
framework of the window, both it and his body in-
stantlg' disappearing from sight.

Wit more astonishment than ever, I kept my
ground, awaiting the upshot. I knew he was coming
out; and in a few seconds saw him issue forth after
a hasty leave-taking with his host, the owner of the
house, on the doorstep. Then in hurried stride he
came on toward me.

“ Mr. Macy,” he said, soon as within speaking dis-
tance, “ (lid you notice a bag in the stern-sheets——a
small canvas bag?”

“ ()f the boat, you mean?”

“ T 10 boat, of course.”

“ No, Captain Drinkwater. I did not."

“\Voil, there arm one. But come along, and let’s
see if it‘s there still."

Without further speech, he started off at a ra id
pace and with highly excited air; 1 following in us
footsteps, utterly unconscious of the cause that was
exciting him.

On arrival at the hoat~landing we found her crew
on the thwarts awaiting us, and prepared to pull off.
It had taken them a time to get ready, for the boat,
half~fuil of water from the over-night rain, had
needed another bailing out. This, more than ought
else, seemed to concern Captain Drinkwatcr. For,
soon as beside her, he directed his eyes downward,
as if in quest of something in the stern-sheets, re-
peating the question he had put to Inc, but now ad-
dressed to the crew collectively.

To get similar answer, “ No.” None of them had
seen anght of a canvas bag, big or little, in the stern-
Sheets or elsewhere.

“ Now I” cried the captain of the Flying Cloud,
emphasizi: ,2; his exclamation with something very
like an oath; “now I know why Senor Salvador left

on at such short notice. But never mindl I‘ll

rap the rogue yet, crafty as he thinks himself.

I’m not goin to shi stores here after all. We can '

do without t em til We reach the Mauritius. So it
won’t need brin ing the bar ne in to the anchorage.
But he sha’n‘t now that t1 II have taught him a
lesson. I he e he’ll turn up to ilot us all the same.
By the jumpin' Geehosophati ’11 pay him 011’ in a.
way he won tbe expecting.”

As most of these observations were in undertone,
and addressed to myself, I took the liberty of asking
the irate skipper whether there was anything 0
value in the missing bag.

“Of course there was,” he answered, “or why
should I be making a muss about it?”

“Money, I suppose sir?" ,

“Money; S anish dollars; a. good two hundred of
them. And ei‘ior Salvador has got them, sure. No
wonder your finding him at the fandango, so free
with his hospitality. He could well aflord it after
such a fine haul.”

“But,” I said, suggestingly, “ can‘t you have him
arrested and brou ht to an account ?"

“What would the use of that? There's no
proof of his having taken the money, except his
eing in the boat with you; and that‘s good as noth-
ing. Even were there evidence clear as daylight, all
he needs doing to rebut it would be to o snacks
with whatever judge tried the case. T at would
sure settle it in his favor. Besides, how could we
stay here fora month, it might be a year, for the
sake of two hundred dollars? N 0. There’s but one
wa I can get;square with the thief, and that only
by is keeping his en ement to pilot us in. Now,
however it‘s oubtfu w other he will. The chances
are we’l never set eyes on him again. By Gosh!
there he is!”

There was the man sure enough, not fifty yards
£20m us, and coming on in hurried stride toward the

a

In a minute more he stood beside us, raising his
broad-brimmed hat in a salute that would have done
credit to Chesterfield; looking calm, smiling, and in-
nocent as though a charge of theft would have
driven in into hysterics. .

There was none made against him just then; our
skipper, who kept calm also, returning his salute, as
he said, in light, cheery tone: '

“Good-morning, senor! I’ve ust learnt how the
luck was against you all last nig t in not be able
to get si ht of the be ue‘s lights. We’ll be right
now, ap nothing to inder us from boarding her.
So let‘s into the boat at once.” .

Into the boat we went, the pilot With us; and, push-
ing on, were rowed strai ht out through the bay.
But, long beforeclearing t e spit, we saw the bar'un

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lying-to in the offing, and in half-an~hour after we
were on board of her.

Then on her uarter-deck occurred a somewhat
exciting scene, With dialo ue curiously original, the
speakers being Captain firinkwater and the half-
casie. The former commenced by saying:

“ I suppose, Senor Salvador—I sup )OSB you
fihought yourself clever last night, in cri bing that

a r?

kWhat bag, Capitao?“ was the counter-interroga-
tory, in a tone of innocence, assumed, as we, the
listeners, believed.

“Oh! the little canvas wallet you took from the
stern-sheets of the boat, just before slipping out of
her for that bit of swim through the surf. You
save 'f’” '

“ (Incfos D203, Pupil/10f” You speakee puzzle.
Me no savey wats you mean—no ‘tall at all."

“You soon will," rejoined our skipper, turning
face away from the accused man, and commanding
sails to be set for sea.

In a trice they were so set, and the. barque holding
a course for the outside ocean, the two men in dirt-
logue on her quarter-deck still contiiiuirg it.

“ Yes. Senor Salvador!” pursued the skipper.
"You‘ve stolen my bag and its contents—«two hun-
dred silvcr dollars. But I intend ‘llflVlllSI its worth
out of you—rm Tl'Ol'k. You don"tleaVe this ship, till
the score’s wiped ofl‘. ”

In all my experience of men under surprise, never
saw I one showing it in such fashion as did the
Portuguese pilot. At first he seemed struck dead
dumb: then, recovering speech. protested innocence;
in words and tone so appealingly earnest it was like
going against truth itself to disbelieve him. He
even dropped on his knees, with hands crossed over
his breast, crying out:

“ Senor Capitao! I am innocentl I never took you'
money—never see it—- no bag—no not‘ing i”

If acting. as all of us supposed him to be, we. at
the same time gave him credit tor histrionic talent
of a rare kind. Never was counterfeit done more
cleverly.

For all, it failed to affect Captain Drinkwatcr.
Deaf to all appeal. be adhered to his order issued;
and the ban ue proceeded 011 occaiiward, alike rc-
gardlcss of p aiiit or protest from Senor Salvador.

But before we had run half a dozen knots, there
came a change in our skipper’s thoughts. favorable
to the suspected. The man might be iniioceiit'aftcr
all, but, whether innocent or guilty, there was a pos-
sible question of international law likely enough to
turn up, and prove troublesome. Reflecting upon
this, it more than pleased Captain Driiikwater to set
his captive free, and send him back in a coasting
craft which just then happened to come along, in-
bound for the port.

Of course we of the Flying Cloud, every man of
us, were convinced of Senor Salvador being a thief.
But in time we found reason to change our belief,
with regret at having ever entertained it. More than
any of us was our generous-hearted, justice-loving
skiplper vexed at what he had done; when, some
wee s after, on the boat being overhauled for re-

airs, his canvas-bag with its contents—the fulI two
undred dollars—was found under the sheeting
boards, whither the rain had washed it!

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
IN DIRE NEED or: A nocron.

WE ran north out of the Mozambique Channel for
a short cruise in the seas east of Madagascar. Cap.
tain Drinkwater had given up the design of visiting
Kerguelen’s Land for that season, partly from
thinking it too late, and partly because on the day
before he had got word of whales being then abun-
dant among the Massarcnes. The gentleman in
whose house he had passed the iii ht, and who
chanced to be an old acquaintance, on lately ar-
rived from the Mauritius, gave him this informa-
tion, and he determined to take advantage of it.

Hence his having changed his mind about enter-
ing the httle Portuguese port, as cruising around
the Ma'ssarencs would be different from around
Desolation, and the articles we stood in need of
could be better obtained in these islands—either at
Bourbon or the Mauritius.

To use the slang of the turf, the “ tip ” given us
this time proved the “ correct card," for though the
Indian Ocean_ east of Madagascar is not the most
noted of wliahnfigrounds, we found Leviathan there
of large Size a’i ii goodly numbers. Moreover, we
met, with a fair “catch,” chasiniand killing enough
to bring the Cloud well down to er load-line.

We had “tryed out,” and were stowing down the
“fare” or 01! they had yielded, the bar ue lying-to
under easy sail. a. whaling-vessel t iis depart-
ment is nominally under charge of the second mate.
But Captain Drinkwater often superintended it him~
self, and was so doing on the present occasion.

Clad in canvas frock and overalls, he had gone
into the hold, and several barrels had been lowered
after him when I heard him hail up the hatch:

“Mr. hian Send me down a forty-two, to go

next the sh tin board.” '

“Ay, ay sir,’ I answered, and proceeded to se-
lect a cask of the size mentioned, from the tier
lashed along the rail.

At the time the wind was light, but with an ugly,
tumbling swell. and the barque‘s canvas out was
bare] enou h to keep her steady. Besides, she had
aslig thee to windward, in consequence of some
heavy things thatuhad been just shifted over from
the lee side. While .I was getting the “fortv~t\vo ”
slung, she made a slight weather-roll so suc den as
almost to throw me 01? my feet, and I was sensible
of a jarring throughout the vessel, with a loud
crashing noise in her .hold, followed by cries which
told of something 8171188.. .

I ran to the hatch to inquire what; but before I

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

 

could look Over its cembinc, a voice reached me
from below. excitedly pro4.,-lainiing:

“ He‘s hurt-badly hurt 3"

“ Who?" I culch down: “ who’s hurt '1"

“The captain, sir. A cask has shifted—”

I did not wait for more, too truly divining what
was meant. Aleap downward landed me between
decks, and in a. snide or two 1 was in the midst of a
cluster of men, who were wrestling with a heavy
cask doing theirbest to roll it back up-liill against
the barquo‘s hccl. Their object was painfully evi-
dent—Lo i'eleasetlie skippers leg, caught and held
fast between it and the shifting-board. Iliad not to
inquire how it happened; a glance told me all. The
cask had been got up in the “ wing," and chocked;
but the sudden Weather-roll, displacing the groins,
set it free again; and the captain, standing directly
in range. was caught by it, as it came bang against
the shifting-board. But for his having seized hold
of this, and sprung quickly upward. his whole body
would have been between. As it was, only his leg
was in the ugly trap, but that hold fast as in a vise.

That the limb was scriouslyinjurcd we could not
doubt. even before getting a chance to examine it.
Captain Driiikwater was not the man to give way to
fright or weakness; and his moans, as we released
him from his painful position, bespoke suffering of
no common kind.

Lifted in strong arms, tondcrlyas could be. he was
carried upon deck and into his cabin, where I went
with him. Havingbcen 11 ingcr his companion than
the first mate—and, I may add, more intimately his
friend—4km dut. of looking after the injury was
naturally concm cd to inc. But when I pulled off his
Overalls, or to speak more correctly, cut them off, I
would have been but too glad for some other to have
had charge of it. Ai’riglitful wound it appeared,
the chief damage being just below the knee—joint.
Fortunately, this had csrca wed, as also the. foot, from
his having been caught. y the “quarter” of the
cask, and the latter being below the point of con-
tact. as the formcr was above it.

But between them was injury enough; and, at the
first glance, judging by its flattened appearance, I
believed the bone to be crushed.

“ Yes: it‘s sniaslicd to picws, Macy,” groaned the
suffering man, soon as he saw it stripped. “I’m a
goner at last, alter good tm my years at bluhbcr-
hunting. But it's hard to end] to in such a fashion;
like a rat takcn in a trap. By (jeehosophat, it is
hard !"

"0h. sir!” I said: “don‘t talk of ending life. It's
not come to that yet, nor anything like it. You‘ll
get over this safe enough.”

_I confess that I tell; myself talking as it were up-
hill. l“or looking at that log all black and blue, at
first flattened out, but us I could see, rapidly swell-
ing to an equally ominous rotundity, had little
hope of his life being saved. All the less from
knowing there was not a man on board who had the
slightest surgical knowledge; I myself as ignorant
as any of them. We were just as so many rustics
on alone couiitr road, around some oor wagoner,
with leg crusher under the wheel of is ponderous
vehicle. Nay, worse; for to him a doctor ma be
fetched in fair time, while for the captain o the
Flying Cloud there was no such chance or hope, not
it man with surgical skill within less than a. hundred
ea ues.

reeling utterly unncrv.d, and not knowing what

to do Itook counsel witi the first mate, who was,

troub ed as myself about the skip er‘s condition.
The result, our a reeiug to run for t e nearest port,
where a. niedica. man might be found; which the
barque’s reckoningtold us to be the Mauritius. And
having dressed the. wounds in the best way we knew
of. without further delay we set sail toward it._

Unluckily the Isle of France was at least a. hun-
dred leagues distant: and even with the wind favor-
ing would take days to reach it; blowing adverse we
might be weeks. Little as I knew of wounds, that

laptain Drinkwater had received seemed every
hour gnowing worse, unmistakable symptoms of in-
flammation having set in. In a council, including
all the officers, With the men most noted for ex-
perience, it was thought that only by anvputation
could the captain‘s life be saved.

But then who the one to perform it? This was the
question remaining unanswered. ‘

To get answer to it, a muster was ordered on the
quartendcck. The summons extended to every
soul on board the bnrque, irrespective of age or rank.

When all were assembled, the first mate, yielding
place to me. I put the question:

“Boys! has any of you ever chanced to see a leg
am utated i”

_ T ere wasa short interval of profound, disappoint-
ing Silence; broken by a shuffling of feet outSI e the
gathered grou i, evidently some one coming on for
the quarter. iistantl after a woolly head with a.
coal-black face popper up over the shoulders ok the
surrounding ring, as 9. mice made answer, saying:

Engage did, Mass’r Macy. I’b seed a ampootashun,

The speaker was the king of our caboose, a. vener-
able Virginian darky. who, from dispensing doses
of “domestic ” coffee, with ills of duff and salt
junk. was facetiously styled “ he Doctor.“

“ I’se see dat same,” he added, “ good many yeem
’go, when I war cook ’board de ole 'berty.”

“Do you remember how it was done?" I asked,
catching at an idea. For it occurred to me the cook
might be our very man.

“ 1:36 on ht to. iiiass'r: ’memberall’bout it' seein’
as dis chi e ’sisred in de operashun. De 0 e man
bossed de jlob—dat am old Cap‘n Gar‘ner, ob de Lib-
ert —but ’se lent um a hand, sah, passed um de
too 8, an’ held on to de slack ob de art’ries. Yes,
sali' I’se did all dat.”

:‘ but was the man's life saved l?"

‘Oh! yes, s‘ah. We save um life, but not (1610;

 

ob coorsc. Ob dat we made a f list-rate stump. After
all, sub dar ain‘t no dilfeequilty ’bout a ampoota-
shun. It am all in de takiii’ up ob de art’ries, an’
lookin’ out for de turn-(I—wut. Yes,deturn-a»cat. Dat
must be kep’ solid. sah.”

From the confidence with which the negro spoke,
and his ap arent knowledge of the matter in ques»
tion, we ul felt convinced of his capacity to pcrlorin
the operation. And, indeed. the captain himself
wished it; was impatiently calling for it, under the
belief that if the damaged inc niber were not imme-
diaicly removed, he Would not live many hours
loii Ver.

'1' ms urged, we at length came to the decision to
have it 011‘.

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
, nAannorsLy NILAR Ax AMPUTATION.

IN all my life I never remember feeling myself un-
der such a weight of responsibility , as when we had
determined on cutting off the skipper’s leg. For,
although I was but one among others, there was a
sort ot tacit understanding that the amputation was
to be under my especial charge; and, if it should
fail, there might be those who would attach blame
to me. Besides, if successful, what after? To think
of the brave old sailor—tar of the truest type—
lim ing about on a wooden leg. with the profession
he iad followed for long, long years. as it were,
brought to an abrupt end! It was hke deprivmg
him of life itself.

But there seemed no alternative; certainly none
contemplated by himself, for he kept on cryiii out
for the operation, almost commanding il ; and, ow-
evcr reluctantly, I saw the necessity of compliance.

The .ciicral consultation had been held on deck,
and after it was over I reentei‘ed the cabin, the
“ doctor ” accompanying me, with one or two other
attendants. It took a strong effort to screw up cour-
age and nerve myself for the delicate undertaking.
Nor did I altogether succeed; m fingers trembled
as I opened the case of surgical instruments; more
still, while removing the rust from the fine-toothed
saw intended to cut through the bone; and, hand-
ling the tourniquet, I felt as if it was about to be
tightened ai mind my on ii throat, instead of Captam
Drinkwatcr‘s leg! _

During all this time the darky was domg his best
to encourage me. givii g details of that ampoota-
shun ’board dc ole Libeity at which he had assisted‘
telling me all of what “Cap‘u Garner” lial said
and done. The Lilwrty‘s skip )er must have been a
born surgeon, if half of what iis ci-r. grant cook said
of him was true. Still. his laudation did little to in-
spire ine with the confidence and courage'ne'eded.
and the more I advanced with the preparations the.
more coward I felt myself.

And when at length I beheld the full array of am-
)utating implements spread out on the cabin table
iwas completely unstrung. At that moment I could
not have carved a roast turkey or round of beef
much less drawn the knife across ahuman limb, and
infinitely less that of my friend, the, commander of

the Flying Cloud.

Observing my irresolution—almost com lete pros-
tration—the “ Doctor," with a, greenish lush illu-
minating his sable countenance, said 8 V estivel :

“Doan‘ ye t‘ink, Mass’r Macy, we’re tta be. a.
leetle euthin’ force we begin; jess to steady do
narves like?“

Nerves forsooth! There were none in the man's
organization —could not be. As I watched him
drawing his fingers along the edges of the tools,
feelin whether they were sufficiently sharp just a:
woul a butcher about to cut the throat of a calf,
the sight sent a. freezing chill through my frame,
into my very bones. His coolness, instead of inspir»
ing me with something of the same, had an 0 p0»
site effect, drivin me almost to the verge of in-
sanity. Just on t at account his suggestion to “ hub
a leetle suthin‘," chimed in with my needs, if not
my wishes; and, calling to the cabin-b0 . I ordered
a couple of “ fortiflers ’ forthwith—in e shape of’
two strong glasses of gro .

Having drank one of hem, I soon felt its bene-
ficial influence, so far as to (leclare myself ready to
commence the o oration. As for the darky, be. ad
been ready all a ong, with no more compunction to
enter upon it than if the fine-toothed thing he held
in his hand were a wood-saw, and the work to be
done chop ing fagots for a fire.

After gu ping down the contents of his tumbler,
he a ain turned to me sacying: .

“ oan’ ye t’ink, sah, e payshent better hub is
dro 3 o’ sutnin’, too—jess to brace him up like?“

“ es,” I said, assentin ly: and. in compliance
with the su gestion, ure _ out some brandy into a.
tumbler waich, slig tly diluted with water. I di-
rected the cabin-boy to take to the ca tain’s state-
room. The suffering man drank it Wi lingly, desir-
ingly, knowing what it was for. Indeed, with the ‘
door standing ajar, he could hardly escape hearing
all we said, nor observing the formidable prepara-
tions we were making.

“ Now sah,” at length said the negro, with a grin
almost emoniac. “ Reck’n we best put on de turn-
a-cat.

He spoke with an up at conscipusness_of sue
periori y, as though he ooked on me in the hght of
a. mere assistant, and was going to take the whole
business on himself.

“I’se do it,” he added. “ But, sah, you must stand
by jess to grab de art’ries.”

liven now I could not bring myself up to the ugly
work, but recoiled from it with a. shudder. See ng
me still unnerved, the negro took hold of the knife,
and flourishing it like a very Shylock claiming his.
bong said, patronizingly:

“ ebba. mind, Mass’r Macy. I’se do do cuttin’;

I you only hab [00k after de art’ries."

Beyond any doubt, in another second or 50,30:

 

 

 

  

18

 

l
“art’ries” would have needed looking after, and

Captain Drinkwater been nunus a leg.

'lhc amputation seemed unavoidable, and 1 gulpcd
down a Second glass of brandy as a last 511-111111111—
cner to undertake it. The "Doctor" felt inclined
for anothcr tortiticr, too: and wcll for the. patient
l1-1 did ; 11s the time so taken up was 111-11111111 of 11111111-
' 11:111111111'11. Ere.111111:1111'1‘1111'11111his 111111111111-
1 11. 911111111111111-11111tho cabin 1'1'11111111111v1-—
a cry which cycrgladdnns the 111:.1'i111-1', 111-1111111 dis-
trcss{11"1I'11*1'3'.'isc. Faint, as if 111111111;r from afar.
it was 11"‘1'1-:'tl11'lcss distinguishableasthe “141111110!”

I glih .1 111 the foot 111' the companiouway, and
there $101211 anxiously listening". To 111‘11' instantly
.at'tcr in 12111 111‘1‘1, 111111.11‘s voice, the i111er1‘11g111111'y,
“ \\'11!-1-\nw,y11‘ su1-11-1~d1-1l by the 111411.111, which.
fa111t1~1'11'11:11 11117111.: aloft 1111111 further 011'. I 11111 11111

'11tch. 131.1 Igor, it at s111-11111irl'111'1i 11'11111 11.1: 111st oi"
ficcr llilllM if, who ("1111111 down 1111: c11111pr1nion:

"5:111 cll’ 11.11 port beam, Mary. A 11111711 slip.
Look—out thinks shc‘s a 11::111-111111'111‘. I‘ve run up
signals to say we want 111 spval; her.“

“Thank 0110.1" I 111111111111, in vcry exulfution of
joy as one just awaiiciu 11 from a horrid 111;"111111111'12
lfa111:111-1‘11'—\v.1r,11111slrauucship11111111111:11.1: 11 >111»
ge11no11boar1l; or,
one capable of performing the operation from which
I shrunk.

'l urniuc' toward the captain‘s stat 11-r11on1 to rcpcrt
the intclligrcnce rcccivcd. ]. was 1111-t by the negro,
stilltlouri.11111311101311)’knil'c.

“ Hold 1" 1 cricd, snatching it out of his hand, and
flinging: it down on the tablc.

“Den, sub, youse doan‘ intend goin‘ on wif de a111—
pootashunr"

The 11111111ion‘was put with an unt‘celing coolness
that irritate-11 me almost 111 111111111111“. 1111' on 11111
man‘s {111-cl. 5-;:1w,11r 1‘:1111-ic1l,a.1 cxp111ssi11u 111‘1lisap-
1111i11‘tn11-11lt at not getting a chance to display his s11 '-
gi :11. skil l

“ You 11111111” I exclaimed, in answer. “ Clear
out! Burk to your 11111111111111, 111' I‘ll us1- that 11111111
for cutt 111;: your own throat. L'cg'onc, you inack soil
of a. sea-cook I”

I am 1111t sure that “sea-cool; ” ms the precise.
term which 011111-11 my striw: 111' 11'11J'11r;:111i1111; but,
whatewr it 111i:.:11111'1c, the effect 1.1711 instantaneous
~~11riviz115 the darky 11p the 1:111111.a11io11w1ty quickly
as over that stair was ascended.
"1)1-ar1'.1ptaii11)1i11kwatcr!“I said, speaking into
the .-"' "91’s state-17111111. " l‘vc ,1'111111 111-11.141111- you.
a ship sightcd—a war vessel tin r think—so,
:: nuist 111111111, otl‘,yo11‘1ll1a '11 11c satisfac-
’ £11.11 11111111 in a proper manner."

. ;11‘;.', my boy,“ he rejoined, “ that’s some-
thirx: 1:1‘1 ~1t11'1'1'21'1ilf11r."

“141111-11 beamed brighter at; the prospect of the
amputcccn bciug, at least, skillfully performed,
and so safer. No wo11111 rtlds‘ 1:!1o11l1i :‘ratify him,
after overbearing what had passwl 111 layecn me and
the man s.) fain to have 11111111 111,: 111111-1111:

LcavinDr him in the care 11111.11111t11w1u11, T hastened
1‘1 on deck. To see bearing down on us a grand ship,
0 character no longer doubtful. For surely had she
been made out. a man-of-war; a corvette she was,
flying French colors.

The sea calm, with but enough breeze to keep sails
full, and she on the weather side, We were soon close
enough for an exchange of Fpecch.

“ Barque, ahoy l" hailed the Frenchman. “ What
do you want?"

" A doctor," was the response called back.

“ T '1911' I111 11 / Wc‘il Sclld you one."

Our appeal, as we expected, was n‘rm’crctl in a
way befitting the men of a nation foremost in the
ranks of civtlizziticn and humanity. i‘l’Ulll'pil)’ was
it responded to; for on the instant nth-1' one of the
corvette‘s boats was lowcrcd 111111 rowzng toward us.
Ten minutes more, and it was 111111111-11111- main-chains;
when we saw seated in the stern—sheets a man whose
mien bespoke 1111119. dim-11111101" idsculapius. But one
of. the oddest sort we had ever set eyes upon; a lit-
tle dried-up fellow, with more hair under his head
than on i'. th with eyes all intelligence, full of
promise as to his professlonal skill.

When I ir‘raspcd his hand as he came scrambling
ovcr the rail, 1 could have hugged him'to my heart.
For lzis presence might be the saving of a bio, dear
to mcalmost as my own.

Our first otlicer having all alone: kindly 1’eft every-
thing to 11111, I led the French surgeon down to the
cabin, on the way making him acquainted with the
circumstances. But: minute details were not needed.
When he saw the damaged limb, he seemed to com-
prehend all at a glance, {ziVing it, as I thought, a too
cursory crsannnation. Perhaps it appeared to him
a hopeless case; though the expresswn on his fea-
tures. which I watched with anxious earnestness,
did not bear 111:1 out in my dolcful confccture.

Returning into the cabin, I vcnturm to put the in-
terrogatcry, speaking in a. half-whisper:

“ Are. you willing to perform the amputation ?”

“ Ampootation l” he exclaimed in surprise, speak-
in English as he beat. could. “1’0"; 1111.111 (lat,
111 ssicu? Vat for you talk of ampootation?”

“Isn’t it necessary for saving his life, that the leg
be cut 011‘?”

"No, sair; not no more necessaire dan to cut off
ze head.”

“ But the bone’s crushed—is it not?"

“ Mafoi. no. Zc bone it is still good; sounu as von

    
 

 

 

  

 

    

(2101110. All it vill need is ze wound to be vcll dress,
and den uiet with ze patience. Soy/112 tranquil/e.
m‘ssieu. our capitalnc will be veil as ever—dam

an, 11:013.”

If I felt inclination to hug the little man before, I
could now have kissed him, despite his formidable
beard. His words were like new life to me.

He at once set about making them good by dress-
ing the wound skillfully and “ vell,“ as c said it

"should be; then prescribing, and himself mixing ’Eze

 

in any case, the-1‘11 111ic'l1t be soon--

1

The Chase of Leviathan.

medicine to be taken. Attcrwhicb, bivin: minute
instructionshow it was to 1111 allt‘lltlt‘ti to, 1111- took
leave 111‘ 11s, and was rowed back to the c111 Vctt e.
A1111 his Words dill (1011111, good. In lcss than a
mouth from that (lay, (apt-.1111 Drinkwater was
walkingr the 111111; 111 the l’lyiug (11111111. with two 1011's
1111111-1‘l1i111instead of 1111c~i1ot11 sound as they had
ever 111-1111. 15111. I 111'1'cr 11111 111 111'11'1-111111'11 pass the
g11|l1~y,:111d scc that b':11-l< 1311111 11'1i1111i11j: out of it,
without l‘cchnginclincd11111'11'111tagcod slap.

(‘11.‘11’TE1LXXXIV.
A 1-11'11'1'111L1111's 1‘11A'11‘T.

A P11zf‘1'1.1.‘11::'1'v of the c-~1 .11'1-111114 in roost 91-11? is,
111.11 111111 day 1 hey will 1~11;.1l 11111 111 a ship in plenty,
whilt-11111'11-111~:;t1.1.!1t:~1{v11111111:1;‘111'vis1111c.

Justtl111sw1.:: it with 111cv1'h11111sw1- 11::1lbc1-n so
s111-c11ss1'7111y1 1 using 111'11111111 1111- l\1:1«:.:a1'1-111-s. After
parting 1.111111111111y with 1111‘ 11‘1'1-111-11 1-111'1'1-111-, as

 

'1 11111111111 sln- 111111 t’l'igrlalunvnl 11111111 1111.111'1'11111111'11’-

 

 

11'111‘111111111‘111 1111111;r 111111111 1', 111111111 1111'11,11."‘11s11,“
all having 1111111111 ly and 1111;11:1-111111111l1ly111sappcarv11
1'1'1111111111'1-1'115sit1g ground.

It was a liltlc tantalizing, 11111 to s:1".’\‘1‘.‘.'311;,': for
with 11111- {11111 1111111c11111i11111uiz' 11111, a l'1-w 1 1, ~; 11111111,
11':\'~'111:lrll1;1‘1'c 1111111111 1111 .11 1111111111 coon-.111 11 11111
(‘l111‘11s 1‘:11‘_.:'11. l1‘111' 111:111  ‘.','11lli1'i now 11:11 11111 sw-k
the 11111111111111 1‘l.~'1“.\'h"1'c: 1.14 11, would 11111'1-1 do to 1:11
home with 11 ship 1-111 1111'1-1- 1111:11'11-1‘4 full.

L‘nllTniirtlfint1.111131111111111Illauriliusto rcplc'nisl:
stun-s, \1111V111.:..111111111w11111e lI11li:111(,>1-1-1.11, with-
1111111111111:11-111111111-1-11111111g1111y'lichri11‘111 111-r 11.11i11;:.
Not a. \1'111111511'1-1‘111 11111,_:i11;.;i1'171111.1111111111:11cr1r's11ur
track. '

At. length (': 11111111 l‘1'i11l:'-":‘11‘1‘. who 11.111 1'111'11'51‘1‘1-(1
frmuhisuccil111112111lx..1s 111111s1'l‘1' 11;.11111, proposed
running: wcs‘. 111‘11 1,311‘At|:11:1i1',11111l 11'3'711g11111111111
'l‘l'islan 11‘ 1\.1":111.:1. ‘1'1‘ s111111l1l 1111 111'1-‘11.y sure (11'
“11113111: V‘lwl.‘ 1’  :‘Jt lea: t 13:11‘11: , it" 11111it1cl: was
in 11111'1'111111',t11 give us 111c"1‘a:'o“'11i oil we still
11111111 in 111111 ol‘. 12111111114. it 111111111 1111 so far 1111
11111 way 11111111111111‘11. $111, for Tristan 11‘Acunl1awc
Sttn‘l‘tul.

"1‘11111lel with ("my voyaj-'11 I had yct 11111110, the
Atlantic 11c1_-11.~:e-':11'1ly saw its (‘1111111111111'111111111t and
1111'111i11111i1111, yet, in this (1111 111-11 known and most
traversed of 11111 111‘111111s,l 11::11 hitherto 111-\11' 111ch
with an adventure worth speaking of; nothing: 1:1:-
y11111l such incidcuts as {tl‘OUf cmnnwu111-1-111'1‘11111111to
chry ship at 51-11. Nor can Icull \1'1211', I 111-1 11l11 1111. to
rclatc any 1111111111211? of 111i111-~- it" “:1111'1-11t11rc" it
1311111111111 called. 11‘111'it \1'1111111ly1111 episo1l1-31l11111p11
one of a snuuwhat singular 1211111,.111111 for a while
painfully 1111'1'1-11121,r 111y'..cif1.s 01111 1s.

Around Tristan (l‘Acunha we 111::1s1'1l the southern
“right whale," which difl'crs from 1111‘ spccics so
named of northern latitudes; 11111.| as the luck (1111
run in our favm‘, we got good return for our trou-
1111*. S 1111't, some would call it; and we might our-
selvns 1ave thought it so at an earlier period. int,
after months spcut 111 chat-int: Leviathan, the most
ardcnt 111111‘11101'11111111‘111' {:1'11 '5 aweary of it; and thcn
nothinglikcs I11: 1111:11-1- 111:;11111 know, that evcry cask
is full, and so“ sails 1 511111111 for 1101111}.

Just so was it with us 111' 1111- Flyim: Cloud. After
a few weeks’ crui: '; around ’l‘1ista11 11’.1\11111111a, the
barque was at lat-t1 down to her load-line, and every
heart 011 board of her alrd to rejoicing. (‘aptain
Drinkwuter was il:'ll‘~‘t‘if in highest. L'l-‘c; so much
elate1l,bo could Scai 1:11 retrain 11-1111111x111111111-1g in a
[111.1 N111! upo‘1thc 1p1a1'1‘1sr-z‘1cck. ludct 11, cvcr si:.cc
rrcovcrinv the use of. the In}: so nearly his-t to him,
11111101111114 to 111-light in dancing 111111111.

Win-1111111 “11'; 1111751111: "1.1111'11111111113'11xti111711ish11d,
and every '11sk 11!’ oil safe stoch 11o\-.’11,ho -a1‘.1..-.:
out:

“Now, l‘oynl 1111‘s crown our cruise 11y drink»: 1111
round 1 Steward ! open the Cloud’a lockcrs, and 1111':-
out the 111:1tcr1als l"

The order was obeyed will: alacrity: and, :"1 0'1? .
time, the l‘arquc's quarter-uch 1'11'1'111111-11 11.11118 111'
festivity, cw ry scul on b1_111r11t111kin:,r 11:.;'f i~1 it, 11111
and young, deck hands . stl1c111111iz1311s1 t'tbe 11111111):
It was 11. 5515111211 only to b1- vcitzwzased in :1 \1'11111’111: \cs-
sel, where all enjoy c1rt1-‘.111 rights and privilegm
already alluded to.

We. were in 11 11 midst of our 1 ilarity, the, onrquc
gliding 51110c111lyaz11111: 111111.:1‘ 11 13.1.2111. brcczc, when
the look-out 511-11: shouted:

“ Sail ho!"

“Whereanay?” called up the, captain, in the cus-
tomary form of i11t1-1'1'1j1;rr1tiv11.

“Nigh (lcad ahead, 1.11‘. A point. or two on the
starboard bow,“ came the response from him at the
masthead.

“‘ What do you make her out?”

“ Only a boat, sir."

“A boat!" cm-laimcd the skim)”, S‘Wfised. as
were all of us. “ But do you see 1111 ship‘t’

” No, sir. There's no ship in sight."

“Look well round! There must be a ship some-
wl11'rc.”

An interregnum of silence succeeded, while the
look-out was makinr.r survry of the sea, all of us
awaiting the result with a feeling of kccn curiosity.
We had made northiug from Tristan 11‘Acu11ha, at
least a. 111111111'1-11 leagues, and knew it to be t he nearest
land. And for a boat to be in our 111,1ighbor11oo1l,
without the ship it belonged to, was naturally con—
sidercd an odd circumstonce—indeed, ot the oddest.
Had it been in the South Pacific, with its clusters of
archipelagoes, we. might have thoughtless of it; but
in the South Atlantic, that wilderness of water.
where Tristan d’Acunha and Nightingale Island are
as two lone stars in the wide flrmamcnt of heaven,
it. surely meant something strange.

But was the boat by itself. or n1.t? This the ques-
tion passing among,r us, as we stood listening for fur-
ther words from aloft.

It came at lengm, only to conflrm what the look-
out had already told us.

    

 

 

‘11

   

 

1

 

1.

    

 

 

 

 

 

No ship in sight—no sail of any kind—nothing but
a boat.

“Has she, a sail set?" demanued the captain; to
receive answer in thc affirmative.

“ What do you see in her?"

“Nothing at all, sir."

“’l‘hc deuce you don‘t!
111-r crew Y"

“(‘an’t see a soul, sir. If there's any in her,
11111.1”1'11131'111‘down lll‘die‘l'lilt‘lil\\';ll'lS.H

"11y the jumpiu‘ 111-1-1111s1:phati” 1'.‘.'Ci{‘.il".‘.t‘1l the
skippt r. with :1. 111)"‘liii111l look, “that. is (11111. A
boat. 1'1‘11'11 5-111 1.1: 111111 11111111 ly 111 11:111k to it—uobody
in hurl .‘1 2111;”, f” l‘c 1:11111 ‘, 11.1'  ‘11,- 11.-:', "go
aloft, and se-c what 11 111-1111 11::1l;'-11fi=..'

14111111111-111 :1; 1111- c1111.111:11111. 1, \.: ~ 51-1111 alongside
11111111019111”; '1'1111. 1111|i1'1111l:;_," I111: tlitcction, surrcn-
dered up his telwtw 1pc.

Briruiug: it 1111.1111'111111111111i11;; 111111. was causing
us H) 111111-11 Sill'pl‘iW‘ 111111 Cullliv‘cl 1111'. I saw it was a
1111111,.11111'11 11111111,;1'11; under sztli.1;s 11111 1111111 had 1'13-
}1111'11'11, 111111 apparcntly without any 111111 in l1erl
.o-1ki11gnr 11111111: 1111- ,1.';1111w:111‘ li111-. 1 could we nothing,r
1111:1111.” human 1111111; thcrcl th was 111‘1' canvas
spit-11d to its utmost 1111-11, and sin-1111111 111111.11!

“ \‘1‘1-11, Macy, what do you 11:11:11x 11-1' 1111'?”was
the 111:1-1'1'11:.;:11111'y which ca1111- 11p to 11111 tic-111 the
captain.

"1‘1111‘1 111akc her out anythinc, sir,“ was 11y an-
swcr, no doubt v1-1'_v 11111:;1tis1a-c1111'y111 all 11:1 the
111-11k 1.111112; "1; looks likc a w111111‘1 's 1311111411,: bout,
strru 111'1l':1l‘1i 11s, 111111Hamlin:11111111101111 tuck.”

“ But can yr -11 111111 1111 snip?"

This 11l11,‘>:1i11)11..;1ll1 :l 1’111'1111111 to answcr It. As yet
lhad (111lylicz1t 111y1-y1-s on 1.1111 boat: but; now di-
rcctct'. 1111-111 to thc scaaround. v.‘1tl1 the plus: to aid
my vision. The day was unusually clca1,u bright
sun in the sky. and the sea so 11111111t11at the horizon
showcd a smooth lcvcl line, with nothing t1: inter-
rupt its continuity. The boat was thcl'c, but cer-
tainly no ship. 11c111' 0 ' afar.

licpol‘lini; this, 1 cu1:l1l 121-111'11111 skip; c1 1‘: j':

" By Jing! tl1creis111111c,if Macy can”. :1 1- 111‘1'.

Thcn t‘ollowcd exclamations tcllinc 11." 111.1casc1l
astonisluncut. 111111 111111-1111 a sl1ipi11s1r111'111i a boat,
there were those 1111 the deck below who would have
l1ccn'thinking ol' the "Flying: Dun-11111111..” 03111 to
bclicving it 1111. For, strange to say, 1111 vessel,
whether war, 1111*t‘c1111111:..1111. or whalcr, but has
11111011gl11-rcr'1w 111111 who cling in full (-rcdcnce 110
this old myth, despite tbc ccnturics of so-called
civilization. 1

“Aim-.11. all by itself!” went on the captain. “ Sail
set and nobody in 111 What the mischief can it
mean? We must run on to her and sec. liilloa,
Macy!” 11c 'allcd Up to me. “how’s she holding
iow?’

“ Still the same as ourselves. sir; north, and right
ahead of us."

“(live Stecring‘ directions, then, and let‘s run up
to her.”

Which I did; and. with but 14111.:11tc11ange of course,
the Cloud was 51': hcatl 1111- 1110 11.;‘5Lerious craft.

CllAl’Tlllt XXXV.
A cunw 011‘ 511111 ETONS.

Ono  1t was for a small sail-boat to be. 1111:1111 on
that lirnitltss expanse of ocean, her l)1‘ilt‘t'111)l‘r'11‘1‘ll1-
ed cvcn more  A 111ystil'_11'11g puzzle to 11s, when
having r1111 scvcral knots attcr l1 1', with signals up
all the while, we got neither response nor acknow-
lcdgment.

Nor did we gain yrcatly upon hex: sonndhing,
though not so much as 111111111111. 111 the light
b11-czclx1-r1111.11tls1.11-tof 1'1111'1'115 cart-11111 her along
at a1‘111'1i11r11tc: While, 11111 11111111111. 11111113" frmn being
“13:11c;-.-l'1112,"a111i l 111*1‘11111'11 in 11.1; wan: :, (11' course
1.111111111111111111191151111411tl1'1nsl:h Vrs c111 111111) ('1’.

A11 that was com!1rchcnsihlc: 11111. not this fact of
1111.} luat 11111111111'111'ing to 111111111 away from us,
whcihcr designcdly or not no one could as yet say;
but if her crew were ('11x11111'113/11', as we at first natu~
raily supposed them. 1111 ir b1 havicr 1.11s ai‘cgzcther
unaccountable. Now it ocouricd to us that they
night- be 7'1/1 1111111,», which would put a different con-
s1 ruction upon it. M11.i11c1-rs wno had fowrken
their ship, 111'111r committing some tcrr1blc crane—-
111ayb1: murder? A111ll111ving' reason to think their
guilt could be readily brought home to them. Per-
haps they had the evidence of it by their si11'1-, 11.1216
shape of plunder, which they were reluctant to lose
by throwing it overboard?

In that case their conduct would be quite 1111 "1,113
standablc, as Cain fleeing from the Divine) wrath
they would think that every ship seen by them car
rieu an avcng 1r.

“ We must overtake them anyhow,”said our skin-
per, a little nettlcd at; not avmg done so -ona be-
fore. It touched on his tender point, the sailing: ca.-
pacitics of the Cloud. “ Only to think,” he went on,
“that such a. mite of a sail-boat. should keep us
straininfi' after it in this ridiculous fashionl I sup-
pose wc‘ lhave to spread more canvas and out st11‘n'-
sails; though that would be like shootng sparrows
with a twenty-four 110111111111: What do you makc of
her now, Macy ?” he added, callin up to me.

“ Nothing more, sir, than that 5 6'5 a whale-boat—
a chaser."

Of this I was sure; could no more be mistaken,
than in the identification of my own coat or bat.
IIcr build, with the screed of bunting at her I‘lflfil’r
head—for there was such—the shape 8.1111 set. 11. her
sail, all betokencd the craft used by whaicsmrn for
chasing and harpooning. .

My response gave use to fresh speculatio. 
conJccture among the barque’s crew. 11, touched
professional aynnur-proprw. If a whale-boat there
was less likelihood of those in her being deserterr, or
criminals of any kind. That would be contraryto
their character; an experience ra: e, if not 111]]11‘1 ce-
dented. So back came the belief in their being cast»

But there must be men——

   

 

u

 

 

aways: once more tobe met by the question; why
were they making: away from us?

Before. it. could be answered there arose a series of
incidents, caused by the. wind, or rather the want of
it; for now tho-re was none. The lm eze u lllt'l‘ had
been L‘Tzniually lightening,r blew out its last Zt‘}lll)f
breath, and our barque lay like a. lot: upon tlm
wut'ci, lll.‘l' sails alone showingr motion by an occzr
Sional (.‘l:.-ill. Soon after it was the same \\'ltll t1"
lltl‘ll. to leeward of us, only instead of stayingr still
she rceled round like a drunken man, as though
witlirr'tl and :u the steering-cur.

“Dov u a boat!“ connnan'lcd our captain. “If
we can} owrhunl the darned thing with ('iLllV;L>
Wc’.“ do it with ilu oars."

At the word hall'a score nien sprung up to the 

rail. {tit‘l l't"‘.“.lilt‘ hurry w:th tic ‘litVllI. of the (in. r»
tor-livid. liut before they could lower down..th
capriti.‘ s breeze once more came rustlinr-' along.
filling the brn'vpic‘s sails to the fall. In a few sec-
onds iii 11' it did the same for tlzc chased boat, and
awn: v. out lvtilllillftllll t‘.ow:i\'—'ii-1<l;is b: "ore.

It  ' ltH'Ul-Illltr to say the least cf i7: and to
sow «'1 lil‘ Flying: (‘loud‘s crew smut thing more,
'l‘hi-ro wece men anmnc' the. in 4-2: r r: w“; to yicrd to
the supernatural. and the sin vcird niuncuver-
int: oi the pursued er; t‘t now .‘,l‘t ined to give tin-tn
rcasmi. Had the choosing: of the liai'tlnw‘s. course
been llli‘ll'm. I verily believe they would have clued.
“‘Briut ship!" and let the boat go its will.

Very (hilt-rent were the. ideas of Captain Drink-
watei‘wall the rcvcrve. Now roused to excited ac-
tivity, he ordered every inch of canvas out, even to
studding-sails. And if that should not prove
sut‘tici' nt, threatened sky -sc‘apers, and moor:-
aabrers.

“17y the jumpin lechosophat!" lie ezrclstimcd,
after issuian his orders. “it is curious how that
boat's behaving; like a v:iii~o‘-thc—v.‘isp. If 'twerc a
ship instead of a boat, I‘d. be inclined myself to be-
lievin 'hcr the Dutchman."

All hands were now at work to strengthen the
baronc‘s power of sailing. But ht‘fm'e. any more
canvas could be got up, from the look—out I was
able to report a circumstance likelv to make in-
crease of sail quite unnecessary. The breeze be-
coming: stiffer was in favor of the barque, while
against the boat: and I saw that the distance be-
tween them was rapidly diniinishinu'. In due time
and that erc long, we should know what it all
meant.

(Jonutermandinrr his orders about the additional
sails. Captain Drinkwatcr now issued another.

“Give llll‘lll the gun!" he. cried out. “We’ve
tried them with sight signals. to no purpose. Let‘s
see what sound will do for us.”

Our little piece of artillery, kept ready loaded,
was run out to the head.

“‘thlllll for the effect, Macy l" called up the skip-

r. as the fuse was being put toil.

Which I did with all earnestness, keeping the glass
steady on the boat.

The gun was fired only once. no second shot being
needed. For as its boom was still reverberating
over the water. a man’s head showed above the
boat‘s stern: and instantly after another by the step
of the mast; then two morc further forward, along
the gunwale rail.

“ What do you see?" questioned the skipper.

“ Four men, sir -only their heads."

But I soon saw more; the one amidshi s l‘iszng
In her till his shoulders and then nearly t 1e whole
of is body was in view. He did not spring up sud-
denly but slowly as with an effort, and I could see
that he supported himself by holding onto the mast.
He clung to it with one arm while with the other
held alolt be. commenced waving what appeared to
be a handkerchief.

Al. the, sun e time the other three had raised them-
selves. a little liizrher, and Were signaling also, bran-
dishing hats and bits of rags around their heads in a
wild. eccentric fashion.

Soon followed another movement which all on the
barqttc‘s deck could see—the boat ‘s sail going: down
with a run, (1 ick as though the halyards had been
cut with a knife. It brought- her running to a sud-
den stop, as a bird with broken wing, and she again
veered and reeled about. Two more heads were
now visible, hitherto hidden by the sail, making in
all six.

The mystery was at an end, and there was no fur-
ther need for using the. u'lcScOpe. Without it I
could read the whole. story, more than one exocri-
encelielpiug Inc to its interpretation. Castaways,
sure. A whale-chaser boat that had got separated
from its ship.

And just so it proved. As the barque surged up,
looking from aloft and taking.r stock of what was in
the boat, 1 could see. it was a chaser with six men,
the full cmnplcment of crew. But such men!
Emaciated all. to the condition of skeletons: death‘s
pallor on their faces, check-bones threatening to cut
throurrh the skin, eyes deep sunk in their sockets
andg aring with unearthly ig‘ht.

“ Thank God, there are six of them l" I could hear
the skipper cry out. “And all living. Thank the
Lord for that l”

I knew why he so exclaimed, and the cause of
his satisfaction—the echo of an old memory. But
his words were hardly out when others followed,
proclaiming a fresh surprise; more. than one. voice,
my own carom: the number, n'onouncin a name
well krv uvn to the crew of the P lying Clou , “ Elijah
Coffin." It was he who stood supporting himself by
the boat‘s mast, but so changed it was rather a
wonder we recognized him.

“My God!” cried the captain. “ Is that you, Cof-
fin? s it yourself, Lige?’

' All that air left 0’ me, Cap,” came the answer in
his weak voice, but with the old sepulchral tone,
'now strangely appropriate. “ ’Tnin‘t much. as ye

   

     

 

 

. heart d r Illlll“2‘, l" l“. utiT

 

The: base of Leviathan.

see." he a« ds. wizli a faint attempt at a smile. “ My
bit o‘ (“:2 Yi-l (iii-i l'.”ll buried out.”

“Normal” chi-crincly returned his old
rounder. “Nothing of the sort. We‘ll soon have
you all ri'rht drain."

No lurt ilt r speech was exchaner then: our ship-
per, wi1hull of lisliastciiim:loge: the sufferers out
of the boat. A line was llll'lf.’ over i'. \v.‘ icli they
\vcre lllll't l) able to catch and make l'asl. But lllr‘l‘e
were stronc‘arizzs “if its oi lie-rend. ind m on as it 
N""ill'l‘l_\' ln-nt oi, the i1: .1. "i- drr“ we." rir‘fmu in
uiidn'roizrinaincl.;i§n::.umll'drlh ' ' "iytlic
six Flit‘li'l u: l‘l'letll’t‘Allll -~l o:ii.;
lll:illl<r1i.S Lhty could not. have ascended of them»
S“.\"'<.

"\l' ‘2‘: soon set you all

 
 

 

 

right twain."
_ ‘liisv :iwlslut-
l.l"t‘ (‘-"lll!. but now aildscssml to all tin-x .

Ami they tailll‘ Luv: iu-f'orc munv :l:i_'s had
rhipscd they v: l'l‘ all inaLEnL: rapi vinyl v t-t-‘iwz-
n- '~_‘l.4‘i‘, thank: to that zi-ritfer musing which :l:--
 ml in» (wr‘t'iw  ever rim-cu troni the (tan of
a v hale-ship. all the more it' at li:ile:»:i.._-n ll‘i‘l‘ segues.

’l‘lzcii'taic told. er:- tEu-i;. warc ~ llt‘.‘-ll‘fl telling. it
wax in». .d‘j: 'u-l')’ new to llls.‘ insti-z: ‘. an old slut"!
with r ’rlit variation of «in-unis!tint-es. The“; were
of the " “Il<'_" .‘w:i=';ili‘s" crew. as \w l'll'."lll know

  

 

   

 

 

 

 

   

 

vorable: and we began to speculate on the pleasures

. that nunilcd us at "Old liedl‘crd,” as American

Coni- "

whales-men often all‘ectionately call it, despite its
distinctive pretix "New." \Ve had lit-aid that. it.
the interval of our absent-e. oil had {:onc up in price,
and as In:- t'loud carried a full cargo, of lit-st qumi‘y,
\I. e anticouued llilllllslllllt‘ returns from our shares:
which with most of lu-r crew meant “high jinks " to
tollow.

llu we were not yet :ll New B dt‘ord. hundreds of

. lcac'ues still Sl‘thl‘tllillZ.’ n» from the tVn-icd \'.'i.:din<r
:- I h

‘ L"1‘!l,l~‘.

port. and a stretch of sn-a to be sailed through dun-
as any in all th- oceans. Just as if to ie»
nnnd ie-Ioz' this. before we Lind tirade lat. 31“» that

: of the lit i'lziiul:is~—:i series of adverse hairs fort-ed

ll'rmll)‘lll,“‘iill't‘(1ill‘.'il\'\:ll"‘llltll(‘dlllllli'llll.‘!lit“l:<‘l'- ‘

\ice in t'ial ship. Liz: nertirst olliwer. . i. u. in ('ll;'.~1e
of a whale, they had \'('illlll'l‘l. :: A l'n'. anil ;_;o1
caught in a fog. lligli v ind and a rough sea suc-
cendingcarried them still tn: tlwr flI" t the ship, till
tin-y lc'imv llw‘mselvcs \i‘l":ll}'. impel! ssly lost.

it was his! as with Mr. ll-uro'n‘,‘ boat in i-h'istol
ll 1y. \‘.'ll“l‘tl was tail)-<'~:n':-niaii: alums; a repetition
of that unpleasant incident with ending somewhat
different, '\‘.'0 l. d not be in bi" Uht quite so clim-
todedth‘sdoorastlet': for that. were :u it——on its
very lln'esli'rld. 'l‘oo luv' cone to stccr their boat. or
tlttmul to the sail they had hoisted; too l’cclile even
to sit upon the thwarts and keep {1 look-out. they
had. One after another, sunk down despairingly—»~t«i
die.

Thus was it with tliz-nt.v.hcn the report of our
gun sounded in their cars. as the Voice of angel
awakine: them l'i-mzi death‘s slumber, and calling
them back to life again!

And beyond doubt this it did.

C'llAl’l‘l-ill XXXVI.
Maxis 'l‘lliiOwAc-‘JY SARAH.

\VITH farming winds \\ e ran up the Atlantic to
Ascensirm, where. v.':- n" uld net have thought of
czlllinl.r but for shortness oi" \\‘1l"'l'. A liltlc fresh
men. and vegetables Were also a 15'":Fr/r:/'((i'v/)L, since
more than a thousand lcaguts still lay between us
and home.

Putting in at the remote solitary port we had some-
thingof a pleasant surprise. .‘\ll‘.i)llf.;‘ several whal-
ing‘ vessels anchored there, was one from whose
masthead stream Ad a pennon lcttercd “Tm; SAUC)‘
SARAH."

“ Won‘t I give. Bostock an astonislicr!” gleefully
chuckled our captain. “ low little he knows what
good news we‘ve. got forhim 1"

Bringing to within hailiiu,r distance of the rival
barque—for the Saucy Sarah's inizzcn was also rig-
ged fore. and al'L—-our captain trumpeted out:

“ Barque ahoyl Send one of your boats, Bostock,
I want to make you a present."

There was an interval without any response as
though Ciptain Bosmck thought some "sell ” was
intended. He knew our skipper was given to that.
sort of thing. Then the truth seeming suddenly to
dish upon hi'n, he, called back:

“ All right, Drink ‘atcr! I'll send the boat.”

Which he did in the shortest possible time; the
boat rowing: in under our main-chains; to receive
and take l);lc.k’ w ith her the six custaways, who were
now strong enough to climb man-ropes without
hand of help.

Captain Drink“ ater aosompanied them, taking
me abut: and t‘tt scene on the. Saucy Sarah, when
the missing ill-"ll stepped upon her decks was worth
\vitnessiu'r. Long ago had their shipmatcs given
them up for 19st.

. Captain llti<lllUlC was profuse in thanks as in hos-
pitality. For without this incident as a. new tie of
amity. he and Drinkwatcr were the. best of friends,
the only «’piesticm of tlls(1.'_fl"'t’lllellt between them be-
ing as to the sailin: qualities of their respective ves-
sels. Upon this there was a keen feeling of rivalry,
avery jealousy: and it had been a sore point with
the Flying Cloud‘s connnandt 1‘. ever since that affair

 

 

 

in the South Pacific, when Bostock get the best. of 1

him.
and taking her in tow, sceniedstill ringing in his
ears: and though what he had done might be a. n-
l‘tlI/CI'UI’ in its way. it was not the sort he, desired.

A; the two rlluoli hands at parting. both of course
bound for the same home port, he could not resist a
fling at the other, saying:

“Well. Bos old fellow, can I carry any message
for you to edford? B *fore you get there your
friends wi‘l be uneasy about you; like enough they‘ll
be giving you up."

“ Oh. thank you, Drink l" returned the captain of
the Saucy Sarah. “I‘m much owned.
like before you not there I'll be startinc on my next
trip, and my friends biddingr {renal by to inc."

osmck had the, best of it, and our skipper. not at
all clever at repurtee, felt himself again cornered.
But having provoked the retort, he took it good-
humoredly, laughing as he fired back a last word:

“ Well, old fellow, we‘ll see."

The usual route followed by vessels from the
South Atlantic to th:- northern pirts of the United
States lies east of the. Bermudas; and we. made
northin};r to near the latitude of them isles Without
encountering any rough weather. Instead, all fa-

That taunt of throwing: the Cloud 3 hawser, 5

But more ‘

us 1‘ ar out o." our c .ui’se: wcstu’aid and almost hack
l .n tlic liilltillll The} carried us into the Unit
’~'  1' lion. " ‘ .' \'.':- c' uld keep in that,
llt'l‘ll i.;j..‘ \YHI.‘ i). (Hoff. {Hill all at) \‘i't‘li: linlb l5,
\\il '3 . :‘d “I. :llllt'! chair l‘l' l'l on: '::\.'«.r.

lip l-i- luck \\.:>;a,:'-.ii.:~t us and neither did: the.
Vii-L". ..ic.. o‘ :13} our lit-inc south of t‘ape Hatteras,
wi! n :h-u tl;:ir-ci'ol::-' head! ul st ll to bu parsed.

We >1 ion all. r cunn- in .‘s‘l‘,.'lll (l i..llln1tl'L'ii'~'lllll-

 ‘n'liiwht 'ltl of i's tln‘lI‘Z'lIllI‘flllil it» (fir-ins the
Inninry i " ate. (in the driy b: i'oi'e a night
. .~‘c -i:: , o blow cvi ry \z'uv. and bathing all
. il'furfs to keep a course for an" It t: th of time,
llt‘ll so :-ltllt nevi as to call for .~~I.orti~i.m.s.: of rail.
'1' psziils hai t.i be tak ‘u in to their last reel. while
two do n \vrrc order. d 1'» the want-cl, the ls-st steers-
inen in thi- liarduc. lnzsiu-rc. all along. we could see
a bul: ot‘ roaming breakers: tort-ed upon which the
hi) incr Cloud would nevi-r rail sctt again.

All on h.» m‘ it It Hire of this-.1» conviction: save
mic. l;.-r (mnnnainlcr. lie. however. was not yet
awarz- of her p~iilo1i:x situation. It was still eaily
i:n>i'iii:;:. and. me Ifrlicen late to turn infori‘eusms,
alas! two easily. understood, he had not yet shown
himself on deck.

When he at ll'lltflll did. and looked up at the can-
vas spread. his lll':-~L \\ oi'.ls \\ crc:

“ What have y :u l‘t‘Ul't‘il tcpwhils for?“

The «pies‘ion was to myself, the officer of the
watch on duty.

“ l llmllflllt it bt'bl. sir.
gish blow.“

" Hall! The bzirquc can carry twice as much tappa
as that—if it blew great unis."

“ 'l‘appu." ti-e bark-cunt ii of the Smith Sea Islands,
was a .':'.‘.i).\'llll1ll‘il word 101' Ltnvns. in frequent use
IRMA)!" wlizilestnen.

“ Look at those brxakcrs, sir," I said pointing to
leeward.

"Oh, bother them! The Cloud has quick helm,
and will easily cleut'—-"

He, was not permitted to finish his eulon on the
barque‘s steerinir capabilities; hindered by her just
then shi ipingr a wad sea. which came Sui-zilng all,
while a heavy weather roll, and return lurch, set the
watch-bell ding-nonunig.

I thought this Would s< iber the skipper down a bit,
and brim: him to a clearer ('Ulll;II‘Cllt‘llS‘lOll of our
danger. But. no. its ellect seemed the opposite:
and he cried out, t-Xcitedly:

“ Well done. Cloud: You can wash your own
decks, and rim: your own be ls, anyhow 1"

Then turning: his eyes, landward. while the water
was clearing out throuuh the scuppers, he. exclaimed:

ld Hatteras, by the jumping- Grchosopliat! To
see that‘s worth a score of Irinzus and a whole slate-
fnl of figures. Now we know where we are; and if
Dick Drinkwater ain't iniishty mistaken, we‘ve
passed the danger-point."

I was glad to hrur this as were all within ear-shot.
Still not so glad as we Would have been it' sure that
the skipper was himself. llu. assuredly he. was not;
having just had his morning1r dram, his “throat—
clearer " as he was accustomed to call it— and this,
added to the iii..'l:t‘s too-plenteous potations, made
him remirdless ot' danger—even reckless of it.

“Give her more [HM/u, Mac *," ' (studied to me in
tone of command: “what'st e l‘se. of those scraps
of sail? It‘s like working a ship with pocket hand-
kcrcliicfs or table napkins."

“I don‘t think she could carry another inch, sir,"
I said, in the niildest tone of protest, knowing: that
)0sitive contradiction would clmfc him, and likely
lead to his insisting on obedience. of the order.
"Loiik, sir. at the to mast backstays. They’re
none too good to bear t 6 strain already on them.“

"Well, if they wt-n’t bear it, whv sh inld we in
trustingr to then . Beltcl‘ to know the worst; that‘s.
Dick Drinkwatcr‘s way of it. So :)1:t with those top
sail reefs, and give the harqnc a chance. {Else it‘ll
be into next year before we get to Bedford; and I
want‘to spend Christmas thtre. Unreef the top-
sailst "

The, moment was a critical one: and I was glad to
see the first mate coming: on deck, my watch being
up. l’erha is he would have more influence in re~
straining tlie skippcr‘s r; slincss. And just then
Something besides turn-3d upto relieve me; the man
at the masthead shouting. “ Sail ho!"

“ A point or two oil the Dull-DULY,” he ansv. cred,
after the usual inferri igatoizv.

Half the crew rushed forward; the. first mate
telescope in hand, among: them. The stranjy sail
was a. )arque lying: to under storm staysails and a.
goose-wing, almost directly llhOllI' trials, and Int
two miles off. Running as we Were, in a fcwmin-
utes we would pass her.

"A whaler!“ said the mate, soon as he had the
glass to his eye. "Homeward bound like our-
selves.”

“ How do you know that ?” asked our skipper, now
also on the ore deck.

“By the look of her boats, s . And more by the
cop er on her bends, or rather he want, of it."

" retty sure marks,“ admitted the captain, taking
the glass from the hand of his first officer to satisfy

        
 

 

   

  
    

.4.

 

It ‘s getting to be a big‘

 

 

 

 

d

 

 

W,“ _I

 

himself. Then, after a. glance through it, adding in
low, agitated voice:

“ It is a Whaler; and, by Jupiter, the Saucy Sarah
herself!” _

CHAPTER XXXVII.
OUR sxrrrnn‘s cnowsrso TRIUMPH.

THE sight of the Saucy Sarah, instead of toning
down the skipper’s excitement, greatly increased it.
And the same with the. Flying Cloud‘s crew; all, or
nearly all of whom wave a I ,11-14’1‘ to the feeling of ri-
valrv which orisinrl between the captains of the
two baroucs. Dr 'hplli‘ the high running sea, and the
dangerous loo shore, it was evident our captain
meant a race or something of the kind, most of
lhem seeming as keen for it as himself. Even the
first mate, from whom I ex )ectcd better things, ap-
peared to be smitten with t e general frenzy; and 1
almost wished Lige Cofiin back on the barque, in his
old position of authority.

"Noun-ward bound i" exclaimed hcr skipper,
Sand7 hove tol Has anything gone wrong, 1 won-

er?”

And again bringing the glass to bear upon the
Saucy Sarah, he more carefully examined her.

“ )Jo—not a spur gone; not a rope parted, far as I
can see. What can Bostock be thinking of laying
to in a. bit of a hreezelikc this? Not wind enough to
float a feather!”

“I guess the Sarah ain‘t much at scnddin‘,” surr-
fgsgd the first mate. “It takes the. Cloud to o

a .

“Ah! there you‘re right." returned the. captain,
Iool-1ing pleused at the insinuaiion so ilaltcring to
his craft. “ There’s not many as can send with the
Cloud: and I’ll show Bostock what she can do. Up
with the main i‘o‘ga'ns‘lf“

The order was enough to alarm every one all
knowing it mus-t he obtyed. A pet hobby of Cap-
tain Drinkwater‘s was to carry topgallant sails over
single reefs; and havingr now mounted he was sure
to rir lo it.

It was no use remonstrating; the fiat had gone
forth, :5.) the sail was loosed, slim-ted home and
hoisted. Fortunately without accident: and the
barque yielding to the added strain ‘upon her,
seemed fairly to leap out of the water, while the
towering seas, rolling and surging in her wake, were
impotent to overtake us.

“Mind your helm there!"he shouted to the men
at the wheel. “ Steer for the Saucy’s main-mast!”

“I suppose, sir. you Won‘t pass very near her?"
timldly ut in the first mate, now, as I could see, be-
coming iimSelf a little nervous.

“Near enough to speak her, anyhow," snapped
back the captain. “My trumpet. steward!"

“It’ll be ticklish work, sir.“ urgul the officer.
“Even that close, in .~ uoh a sea as this."

“Nothing of the sort, man. I can shave under
bler copnter if those fellows at our whch con’t go to
s eep.

There was not much danger of their doing that;
the added canvas giving work enough to keep them
awake, to say nothmg of their increased anxiety.

Without another word the captain, trumpet in
hand, sprung up to the quarter-boat; and passing
on to its head, stood majestically erect, as Neptune,
or Britannia, ruling the waves!

Meanwhile the commander of the Saucy Sarah,
and her officers, had athered in a group by her
taffr .il, evidently wont cring what was meant. We
could imagine, almost see them, sl-rinking back, as
our barque bore down toward them in mud, un-
checked career. It was as if we were going head-
on to a Chinese pirate junk, or an outrigger of
Celebes Malays.

“Barque ahoy! port your helm—hard-a-port!"
came the hail from Captain Bostock. “Quick, or
you‘ll be into us !”

“ Never fear, Bos,” trumpeted back our skipper.
“I'm not going through you; only to Show how the
Cloud can carry ‘ail, and keo course off old Hat-
teras. Starboard the helm!” e added, contradict-
ingly, to the men at our wheel.

An order they dared not disobey; but just at that
moment, the Cloud, as if imitating the obstinacy of
her commander, refused to answer their efforts,
and made a wayward sheer: to counteract which
called for her helm to be jammed hard up.

With suspend d breath we stood waiting the re-
sult; Captain Drinkwatcr himself dreading it. For
the sheer, unexpected as unacc suntable, had spoiled
his fine plan. Convinced of its rashuess now he
sgrung back from his perilous position in the boat;
t ough th'it would not have saved him but for the
barque at length yielding obedience to her helm,
which she did, swin lug round in time, but not a
second too soon. e could see ‘wnyin under the
Saucy Sarah’s counter, as she pitched heavily for-
ward, with stem elevated high in the air, and our

unrter-boat barely escaped destruction as it came
own again on the stint/aft. The two captains were
so close they might have crossed trum )ets.

But we were cle~r,~or thouth so, 8,1“ as we assed
round h~~r wake at race-horse speed, Captain rink-

Water once more bringing the brass tube. to his lips,
called out:

“How do you feel how. BOstock? Better have a
hawser, and let me help you along a hit.”

As if to rebuke him for his reckless levity at the
last moment, the end of a spare spar, projecting
from our stern-hawsc, caught the other’s spanker-
vanr: and with a harsh, crashing sound, as we tore
clear of it, the gaff came thundering down.

It should have dismayed and silenced our skipper;
but it did not. He Seemed rather to delight in it,
and as we forged on ahead he once more trumpeted:

“ Good—by, old Bos! I'm off for Bedford; and will
tell your friends to expect you some time about mid-
lummer. Au 7eco.’r I” I

 

The Chase of Leviathan.

The captain of the Saucy Sarah made no response,
seeming thunderstruck at the other‘s recklessness,
and possibly attributing it to its true cause. When
he I‘CCOVH‘cd himself the Cloud had shot far ahead,
still carrying our main top—ga’n‘s’ls over single reefs.

It was this, with her maneuvering, of which Cap-
tain Drinkwater was especially proud; and  he
looked back to see the rival barqu‘e falling far away
in our wake, he cried out triumphantly:

“ I said l’d ShOW Bostock something, and I’ve done
it. So, the Saucy may as Well stay in the ditch there
for she‘ll see only our stern till we get into Bedford
harbor. " ’

li‘orl nnately by this the wind was lightening auain,
with a westerly veer in our favor; and we sailed >al’e
past the dreaded promontory, ch uring It long ere
the sun wenl down.

tain Drinl<wutr_-r‘s s'irns. having, as he thought,
achieved a grand triumph over his old rival.

Soon to be uiizieceivmi; and once more was I wil;-
ness to black chagrin on us bright, good-humored
features; as, on entering: New Bedford harbor, al-
most the first vessel we saw was the Saucy Sarah!

And, as il’ that were not. enough to humiliate him,
while we were working up to the wharf under the
Sarah’s stern, Captain Bostock. standing on her taff-
rail, called out:

“That y« .11, Drink? (Had to sre you. old boy!
Surprised, too, as you wi-r‘n’t cxprctctl much before
midsummer."

But now, as oft. before, i also witnessed a fine dis-
play of h‘unan nature on tue p.11 t (if the Flying
Cloud‘s C()liiIll:l.l!(ik‘l'——tt triumph oi‘ lzieth feeling over
low, and a real one for him. The shadow on his
face passed suddenly oii‘. to he rcpl Lewd by its won-
ted Chem i'ul look, as he langliinglv r: joined:

“You’ve beat us again, Bos. and l acknowledge
the corn. So for your damaged gaff, it you‘ll meet
me to-night at the EVOJ'NT, l‘ll square that oil’ over a
champagne sup )L‘I‘. I'm dying for a clam chowder,
and a slew of B uc l’oint oysters.”

“So am I, Drink. Ail right. I‘ll be there."

And he was there, with ailtlie oilim-rsol' the Saucy
Sarah, to meet all us of tin Flynn: Cloud, and spend
together a night oi" happy hilarity, such as whales-
men, returned from a long and prosperous voyage,
enjoy with keenest zest.

Butlcau recall it still hap ier one in that same
hosti-lry, occurring some twe.ve months after, when
once more on return from a whaling trip, the rival
barques had another sailing bout; this time the con-
test over a long stretch of sea. It proved indisput-
ably the l<‘iyin;,‘ (,‘loud's superiority, boih in speed
and steering: qualities: and as we run far first into
New Bcdi’ord harbor llt‘l' Skipper Could well pay
back to Captain Bostock thosc satirical words spo-
ken the year before.

lint he did not: his noble, magnanimons nature
rest raining him. When the Saucy Sarah was work-
ing up to the wharf, this time under our stern, he
bllti'dllli

“(l lad you’ve got in, old Bos. Meet me with all
your oilicei s at the Everett, and let’s have another
inch: of it. "

“ A.l right, Drink,” was the friendly response.

The two skippers again met under changed aus-
pices; but neither the. less inclined to hilarity; nor
were we, their subordinates; speaking of mvself, I
might say more. For I was now the Flying loud’s
first oliiccr; while he, who held that post on the
Saucy Sarah, was not Ligc Collin. So you may un-
(let‘staud why there was no fallingr off in my mirth.

But indeed on this occasion every one rejoiced to
the full; for it was one that commemorated no or-
dinary event; Captain Drinkwater retiring from
active service. In his; after-supper speech he made
us aware of this, suiloi‘dike, frankly stating the rea-
sons. Ilo had laid by enough to keep him comfort-
able for life, and .why should he go on toiling?

And he did not; but sold off the barque of which
he was sole owner, and settled down into the ortho-
dox “ sailor’s snu harbor “——a neat trim cottta *8 or
more roperly vi] a residence ove. looking New ed-
ford ay. It was my happy privilege often after-
ward to meet him there, made happier from learn-
ing, that, on giving up the whalesman‘s life, he had
also given up that which more than once came nigh
bringing death to him—the drink.

“I don’t care for it now,” he said on my last in-
terview with him, “only a taut now and then, say
three a day; and that wouldn’t hurt a child of pure
sound Santa Cruz. As ‘ou know I don’t care for
an thing else; wouldn’t or the world.”

knew he didn‘t, and so left him, with a feeling of
certainty as to his bein reformed, and that I would
again grasp his_honest and, as in reality I did often
afterward. \

For myself I might tell of many subsequent.

changes and events, some of them adventures, tOo.
But as, m narration may be already thought en—
0112b I wil only add a few words to wind up with.

For some years longer [followed the whalesman’s
profession, hulking several voyages and indifferent
vessels. At length i gave it up, not so much from
my dislike for it, but because at older age there
came n. change over mv sentiments. Doubtless my
mother, so dear to mo, had something to do in
bi'in{ging that about for she never got really recon-
crlc< to my being a blui'lber-lmnter.

My father had worn navy-blue, with gilt buttons-
the Government uniform—~and she longed to see me
in the same. Her longing": at length to be satisfied
in a half sort of Way, when I accopted a commission
offered me in the revenue service; the same I now
hold, more to gratify my dear old mother than
from any liking I myself have for it. Indeed, if she

were dead,1’in not so sureI Wouldn't throw it up
and again go in CHASE or LEVIATHAN.
rm: END.

But during the rest of the day, .
and for days after, there was no going down in Cap- I

 

. .M . ....fi.._~#._______.__fl
WITHOUT A RIVAL!‘

A NE‘V FIELD! JUST THE TIIING!

Truth Stranger than Fiction!

     

, v of/ x&

Boqifi I / My,
W&%
A NEW LIBRARY
Expressiy Designed for “ [lur Buys”

\VITO LOVE

   

 

 

True Stories of Stirring Lives!
Tales of Actual Peril and Adventure!
Romance of Sport on Field and Flood!

Daring Deeds and Great Achievement,

On the oceans and seas—in the deep, silent for—-
ests—on the boundless plains—in' the mountain
fastnesses and the untrailed hills—over the wild
game ranges and the cattle ranches—on lakes.
rivers and lonely lagoons—over the world,
everywhere; thus beingr something Wholly New
and Novel, and giving a literature which in.
quality, kind, and exciting interest is

Peculiarly the American Boy’s {lwn ll

Each number, a perfect and complete work,
from the hand of some noted and well—accredit-
ed writer, is a BOOK in lrsnLr—literally a half—
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the call, in this day of cheap publications, for a
“Library” that is unexceptionable in tone, thor-
oughly delightful in matter, and so modest in
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one who cares to read. Issued weekly.

——-.*O

NOW READY AND IN PRESS.

Bendle’s Boy’s Library is for sale by all
Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mall on
receipt of six cents each. ‘

 

 

BEADLE’SarHALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealero"

 

 

BY EDWARD L. \VIIEELER.
Deadwood Dick Novels.

1 Deadwood
30 Deadwood
2§ Deadwood
85 Dead Wood
42 Deadwood
49. Deadwuod
573Deadwood
78 Deadwood
77 Deadwood

100 Deadwood
104 Dead wood
10” Deadwood
120 Dead wood
188 Dead wood
149 Deadwood
156 Deadwood
19F» Deadwood
201 Deadwood
205 Deadwood
213 Deadwood
221 Deadwood
.082 Gold-Dani.
$68 Deadwood
’68 Deadwood
809 Deadwood
321 Deadwood
847 ' Dead wood
851 Deadwood
862 Deadwood
405 Deadwood
410 Deadwood
421 Deadwood
480 Deadwood
44B Deadwood
44 Deadwood
45 Deadwood
459 Deadwood
465 Deadwood
471 Deadwood
4’36 Deadwood
4H1 Deadwood
401 Deadwood
496 Deadwood
500 Deadwood
503 Deadwood
515 Deadwood
522 Deadwood
5'39 Deadwood
Eli-l Deadwood
5850 Deadwood
b-l» l Deadwood
5 89 Deadwood
5.3 l- Deadwood
£361 Deadwood
54:7 Deadwood
572 Deadwood
516 Deadwood
I)" ‘i Deadwood
590 Deadwood
5:05 Deadwood
. (‘00 Deadwood
(506 Deadwood
612‘ Deadwood
i313 Deadwood
62 l Deadwood
(31:0 Deadwood
636 Deadwood
‘6 1‘). Head wood
6‘." Deadwood
43.”: l. Deadwood
660 Deadwood
666 Deadwood
62".) Deadwood
678 Deadwood
6% 1 Deadwood
690 Deadwood
60.1 Deadwood
700 Deadwood
704. Deadwood
710 Deadwood
710 Deadwood
722 Deadwood
723 Deadwood
781- Deadwood
710 Deadwood

7 1' Deadwood Dick

7532 Deadwood
75% Deadwood
761 Deadwood
770 Deadwood
776 Deadwood
7.62 Deadwood
737 Deadwood
792 Deadwood
797 Deadwood
802 Deadwood
807 Deadwood
81’? Deadwood
816 Deadwood
822 Deadwood
828 Deadwood
884 Deadwood
840 Deadwood
841.5 Deadwood
8’52 Deadwood
853 Deadwood
868 Deadwood
870 Deadwood
876 Deadwood
882‘. Deadwood

891 Deadwood l

89% Deadwood

Diek, the Prince ot the Road.
Dick’n Dellauee; or. ltouhlenauyen. -
llzllell." [in llililagaineaor, Bullhh lien.

e' n n ‘at-t e.

"lok'u Bonanza: or, The Phantom Miner.
Dick in Danger: or,()InIhnOll.

Dick's Eagle-i; or, The Pauly oi Flood Bar.
nick on neck; or, enlmnity J in»,th.- Heroine
Dlek‘n Lani. A0 : or.Corduruy Charlie.
Diek in Lead ville. .
{:ie‘ii‘n Dley lee: .or, The Double Cross Sign.

(- all Detect ve.

Dlek’n Double: or.’l‘h9 Gorgon’s Gulch Ghoul.
liiclt’n Home Bane; or, Blvnde “ill-
Dlpi‘m lug Strike; or, A Game, oi Gold.
In“; or Deadwood! or, The i'irin-d Party.
[News Dream 3 or, The Rivnla oi the Road.
Dlek’n Word; or, The Black Hill’s-.leuehel.
chk’u Doom: or, CniaitiiLyJane’s Adventure.
Dick’s Dead Dt al.

chi.‘n Death-Plant.

Dlek. A ltonmnr‘e of Rough! and Twzhfl.
{:r‘k’! lDlvlde'i or,"l‘he Spirit of Swamp Luke.

ek’n Death ‘ra 1.

[Height Deal: or, The inld Brirk of Oregon.
Dlek’n Dozen: or, The Fakir oi'l’lmntnm Flats
Diek’n Dueatn: or, Days in the Digging“.
Bilel‘K‘fiYIItfineed; or, The Terrible Vendetta.

e ' a l a In.

1"“: in Dead (‘ity.

Dlek’n Diamonds.

Dick in hew York: or, A “Cute Case.”
Dlek’tl Dal-it; or. The Chained llnnd.
Diek. J r-z 11‘. 'l'he Crimson Crelceut Sign.
Dlek, Jr.’-I, Dellauee.

Dick. Jr.’n l‘ull'llaud.

Dick, Jr.’n, Big Bound-FD.

Diek Jr.’n Bat-ket at Claim 10.
Dlek, J r.‘I\ (‘orralz or, lion-mun Bill.
Dick, .lr.?n, Dog Detective.
Dick. .l r., In Deadwood.
Dlel., .1]'."‘, Compact.

Dick .l r."~. Inheritance. .
Diek, JI‘.’N DI glugn.

Dlek, .h-.‘n. De lveranee.
 .ir.;tl i’lll'oi‘l‘gi‘c.

e '. . t'. i" ' ‘ ree.

Dick. Jr.‘u. Danger Dnekl.
Dick. Jr.'~, Death llunt.
Dlek, Jr.. in Texan.

Diek, an, the Wild “'est Viqu
Dick, Jr., on 1|er lilettle.
Dlek, Jr., In Gotham.
{fit-Er, :Ilr" Iill llf'oi-altMét.l h

e <, r., n l a e in.
Dick. Jr.. in (Ihleagmp
Diclf. JI-.. Afloat.

Dick. an. in Denver.
ll'tlldl. r""i I'l‘gflimn b’

e.‘ . r. u re ze u fl Banln.
Dlt-k Jr., at- (‘oney Inland. .
Dick. JI'.’H, Leadville Lay.
Dielt, J r., in Detroit.

Dlelt. Jr. in (Uneinuati.
Dick. Jr., in Nevada.
Diek. .lr., in No Man‘A Land.
Dick, J r., Ai‘ier I_he Queer.
Dick .lr.. in Bullalo.
Dick, J I‘ll-A, (‘hawe Acronihe (‘ontlnent
Dick, Jim Among the Sluugglern.
Dick, Jr.’n Insuraaeefane.
lllek, .Ir.. 'Baek in the Mitten.
Dlelt. J r., In Durango: 0T.“Gnthemd ln-"
Dick, Jr): Din‘eovery;or,FoundaFortnne.
Dick. Jr.’~. Dazzle.
Dick, Jr.‘n. Dollar-n.
 3|“, ns'ltunger Divide.
(- . r.'t-, r00-
Dlek, Jr., at Jaek-l’ot.
Dick J r., in flan Front-laco-
Dielu Jr.’a fitill "uni.
Dlek, .Ii-JM Dominoes.
Dlek, Jr.’tl Dir-guise.
Dick. .lr.’u, Donhle Deal.
Diek Jr.’i-. Deathwatch.
olr.’~. liouhlet.
Diel.‘ Jr.'n. Deathhlow.
Dick, .lr.'~ Der-aerate Strali
Diek, Jr.’n, Lone lland.
Dlek, Jr}: Defeat.
Dlek, Jr.’n, Bennrreetion.
  

e ' r., e e .

Dick, .lr.’:-, Double Device.
Dick, Jr‘.-. Del-perate Venture.
Dll-k, Jr.’n, Diamond Dice,
 .‘lr.,’r, llltoyétl Flush.
Dick: 3:52. Belinda"

Dick, Jr.’n, Boom.

Didi, Jr.’u. Seoop.

Dick, Jr.’-, Prox .

Dick. Jr.’u, Clute .

Dick, Jr.’n, lli it "one.

ch ' Jr., at 1 evil’h Gulch.
luck, Jr.’.u, Death-"01b Huntle-
gilt-t, gnulBtirinanhell.

e ’, r.. n ex eo.

Die '. Jr’u Decoy Duelr.
Diek, Jr. in Silver Pocket.
Jr.’r, Dead-Sure Game.
Jr.’n, Double Drive.

-
r

.-

Q
1" t
v

Die '

901 Deadwood Die ‘, Jr?!» TradepMurk.

910 Deadwood
1H6 Deadwood
993 Dead wood

984 Deat wood
940 100‘" wand
946 Dent wood Dick, Jr.’n. Double

Dick, .1r., at. TIE-Top.
Dick, Jr.’t| Dou le-Deekel'.~
Dick. Jr. at. Dollarv lle.
Dick, Jr.. at Flush iota.
Dick. Jr.’n. Shake-u .

rop.

Dent wood Dink, Jr.’s. Right Bower.

951
95? Dem wood

Dick, Jr.’n. Ten-Strike.

9% Deadwood Dick, Jr.’n, Gold-Dust.

 

:v-u wuod

 

 

wood Dick, Jr.’n, Best 0

Dear wood Dick J r.’!. Oath

Diok, Jr.’l, Death-Doom
nrd.

9” "cairn-d Diek, Jr., at Gold Dust.

 

Deadwood Dick JI'.’I, Bi Play.
Doude me’k, Jr.. Blinded.

mu nun-mt in k a 2 . u m. Purl.
1018 Deadwood nah; 3.5.: 1.1:»...

m" n BY ROBERT n. INMAN.
Indy Dick’s Do bl .
1m Dandy mck. magenta.

BY MARCUS ll. WARING.
1026 The Three 8 otter-A.

i“ The Street

th’ Weird Hunt.

The Three Spotter-t Dead Mystery.

 

 

Other Novels by E. L. \Vlteeler.

80 Borehud Bob: or, Nuum-t Ned, the Knight.
84 Bonelmd Bob on “and: er. ldyl, the Girl Miner.
Fm Bonehud Bob‘s Bea hearanee: or. Photograph Phil.
121 Bonehud Bob‘s ('ha leuge: or. (‘xnnunmn (hip.
27? Den\ er Doll. tho [hintiw Queen; trr‘ 'l‘ln- Ynnkee'a Surround
281 Denver Doll‘s \ letory: cr, Mull ninl (‘runatwnum
2N5 Denver Doll‘r‘ Deeoy; or. Lilllr Bill's Bonanza.
096 Denver Doll‘n Drift: «rr. The Bond Queen.
86fi Yrelui Jlm. the Gold-Gatherer: or,'l'he Lite Lottery.
872 Y reka Jim's i’rlze: m, 'llll‘ \\‘..lve- nt \\'tLl<e-Up.
85.") Y reka Jlm‘n Joker: or. The llivuls of Red New.
894 Yreka Jim 01' Y uba Dam.
209 Fritz. the lit!lll|tl»li0}‘ Detegtive: or. hot lio-etlw (Jame,
218 Fritz to the Front: or, The Yeltiriloqulai Hunter
241 hlorra Sam. th.- [frontier Fern-t: n-r, A Sister's Invotion.
24-“ Merra Saint: Heeret: or. The lilimtl)‘ thtprlnw.
253 Sierra Sam’s Paul: or. The Angul v-t Big Vista.
258 Sierra Sam’u tit-yen ° ur.’l‘h.- Stolen Bride.
iii“ Kangaroo Kit: 01'. The \lysterious Miner.
889 Kangaroo iiit’n Baeket: Hr. 'l'ln- l'ridr t-i l’lnyed.0ut.
89 Death-Fare. Detv‘l'ih't‘; or. Life in New York.
96 “'ateh-l‘iye the lleit-I'li'u“. nr. Arabs and Angels.
11? Gilt-Edged inch, on. s...” mm...
11.5 Captain Ferret. the New York llctet‘u'o.
16! New York Nell, the tiny-Girl Detei'iive.
226 The 1‘1’111’ Deleetho: or, Stioozel‘, the tiny Sharp.
891 Turk the Boy Ferret.
825 Kelley, Iliekey .11 (30.. the Dt-tu-tiws of Philadelphia.
843 Manhattan llllke, the Bowery lh tettive.
400 \Yrillkleu. the Nightd‘l'ntch Detective.
416 High "at Harry. the Base Bull Detective.
426 Sam Siabnlden. the Begum-“0y llviw'tire.
484 Jim Beak and l’al. Privntu Detectives.
26 (‘lovL-n lleoi‘, the linifult. Damn: ny‘ Thu Border Vultures.
82 Bob “rooli': or, The (Girl Dead-Shot.
45 Did Avalant-he: or, Willi Edna, the Girl Brigand.
58 Jim Bludnoe. .lr.. the Boy Pin-nix.
1 Buekhorn Bill: en'l‘lw Rcil llitle ’l'emn.
92 ('anada (‘het : or, 01.1 Anuvonda in Sitting Bull‘aCamn.
118 Jack Hoyle the Young Succulutor.
125 Bonanza Bill. Miner: hr. llminni Mystery, the Forger.
133 Bot-m Bob the King of lioothlaeks.
141 Holhl liar“, the liov Road Agent: or, The Branded Brown.
1?? Nohhv Nick 01' Nevada: or, The, Sierrafi Si amps.
181 \\'lld1‘rank in. Hint-ant liruvo: ur, Linn In)". Love.
236 Apollo Bill, the Trail Ternmlu: or, linwrl) Rule.
240 (‘3‘0l0n0 K It, the Youn: Gladiator. or. The Lot-kiwi Valley.
273 Jumho Joe, thu liny l‘n'rulz or. The liivui lit-m.
860 Little QulrioShot: or. The Dead lane oiDaggcrsvillo.
86" Fir-d-(‘lafls Fred. them-11' it'mx anhcr.
ms Nahul) Ned : «r. The S. «rel ni Slut» City.
332 (‘oul Kit. llli' Kilt: ct Kiilr; or, A \lll:i'n'< Yvnuermco.
{-33 Santa Fe Hal, the Flasher; or. A [\‘wn'u \‘rngwun-u.
486 Sealukln Ham. tlto Sparklur: I‘r Tin: 'l‘rilutnul of Ten.
918 “ll Keith. 1 e lievi-nnvfip ‘llel’.
022 Sol Sharpe. the New York Night-Hawk.
9 13 Old Ila) Hl‘k‘il Among Bout-o idea.
100] Banty, the Denver Boothinek.

BY J. C. (‘0‘VDB1CIC.

490 Broadway Billv. the “trollilnt‘li Bravo.
(.14 Broadway Billy’s “motile: or. t‘ieitiingnStmnge Cane.
536 Broadway Billy'n ‘lilllikilty."
on? Broadway Biilp‘m Death Bucket.
13TH Broadway Billy'a Surpri-Ae il’art '.
00f- Broztduay Billy: en'Hv “""Dvh-vtl\'v'n Bislnnine.
62" Broadway Bill)":- Dea. ,('l: m’, 'l'ln- League of Seven.
660 Broadway Billy Abroad: W, The liw-thim-k in Frism.
675‘- Broadway Bill) ‘A Bent: unwilling Sun Franciamfll Finest.
6H7 Broadway Blin in (‘lovt-r.
696 Broadway Billy in Texan; or, The River Busilet‘s.
703 Broadway Billy's Brand.
711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe: or. The Clever Deal.
720 Broadway Billy'a l'nll "and: or,The Gamin Dutcciive.
T255 Broadway Biliy‘u Bunlnenu.
73% Broadway I‘llliy‘u Curioua Care.
753 Broadway Billy in Denver.
7 2 Broadway Billy'n Bargain: “thle Thl’t‘e Del“th-
7 9 Broadway Billy, the l'lt‘ll'll‘Yi‘l' Di-tuctivu.
‘l 5 Broadway Billy’s shadow Chane.
783 Broadway Billy’n Beagle-t: or. 'l‘thrlO's Quest-
786 Broadway Bill)": ’l'eam: er, The Combine‘a llig Full.
790 Broadway Billy’n Brigade: 0r. The Den-d Alive-
796 Broadway Billy‘u Queer Bequest.
800 Broadway Billy Baliled.
9305 Broadway Billy’n fllgnal Reoop.
310 Broadway Billy’s “'ipe Out.
815 Broadway Billy"! Bunk Bucket.
821 Broadway Billy’s Bil-1f.
826 Broadway Billy Anion Jersey T111130.
883 Broadway Billy’s Baqu
88” Broadway Billy'u Big Boom.
84-1 Broadway Billy‘n Big Bulge.
849 Broadway Billy‘n thou 000 Snap.
856 Broadway Biliy’n Blin : or, The Boothlaclt Stowaway.
862 Bron way Billy in London.
X68 Broau way Billy Shadow: London Slums.

74 Broadway Billy’s French Game.
880 Broadway Billy and the Bomb-Throwers.

860 Sliver-Maui“ the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Koyl.
869 Shanta, the “old Klna: 0r, ForSeven Your: Dead.

480 The Deter-tive‘n Appreutlcet or. A Boy Without A Nuns.
424 Cibutn John: or. Red-Hot Times at. Auto Bar.

480 Randy Earn. the Street Scout.

46? Dltleo Dan. the Daisy Dude.

506 Bedllght Balph the Prince olthe Road.

524 The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Rllph’l Requ
548 Mart, the Night Express Detective.

511 Allene Luke the Young Engineer; or The Double Gnu
592 The Boy Pinkerton: or, Running the llnncnll Out.

615 Fighting llarr the Chiet‘ oi Chained Cyclone.

640 Barebaek Bet , the Centaur of ti: Circle.

647 '1' pewriter Tilly thu Merrhnnt’l Ward.

659 . oonllght Morgan the" Pluneu"Mnn olAnh Bu.
88'? Battery Bob. the Dock Detective.

894 Arizona Diek’l “i e-Dut.

900 Jumping Jack‘s uhilee.

906 tiat'e'ty Sam. the Cycle Spnrt. ,

91% Train Boy Triut’n llot Hustle,

918 The Trump Dock-Boy.

924 Big Boots Bob, the Fire-Loddle.

980 Rustlerllalph. the Boy Spotter.

935 The Ex-Newnboy Detective’n Chum.

941 The Bowling Green Detectlvo’n Drop.

944 Cowboy' Charlie’n Double.

947 The Bowery W rel-tier; or. The Butcher-Bogl Backer.
058 Puddv’l Trump Card; or, Silver Sallie, the irl Sport.
960 The Broadway Sport: or. Fiver Fred’s Clo-r .
967 $1000 Reward: or, The Rival Ropalen' Slack Scoop.
978 liar-turn Billy the Corker-Ferret.

918 ’luckv Put. the Street-Boy Detective.

9130 "ileyele Bob’n Hot Search.

997 ieorejer Sam. the Detective on \Vheela.

1004 soon-her lluut’n Swee Jitoke a.

1009 '1 no Girl Cy ellat’l ‘1 Inning "-4.

BY ARIZONA CY.

1043 Von net Both are c t
1088 You Bet Bob’s Elm?” r ck.

 

 

i

BUFFALO BILL NOVELS.

 

BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAL'
1052 Bull'an Bill ill Dinguino. ,
1046 Gold l’lume, the Buy Bumlit; or, Buffalo Btll,the You!
Expre» Rider.
1042 Little Grit, the Pony Express Rider.

4040 Balfan iiiil‘u- Pony I'aitrol.

1018 Buli'alo Blll'n Texan Team.
1007 Bull'alo Bill’s Sure-Shots.
1000 Buii'alo Bill‘s Deeoy Boys.
995 Bull'an Bill‘s Drop: t-r. lh-ml-S
9"“ Bull'an Blil‘n Lanna Throwers.
SM] Bull'an Bill'n Fighting l*‘i\ e.
975 Bull'an Blll‘u Bilieh’hottl.
Bull'an Bill‘n Bunlt Bide; er, Sure-Shot, the Hlflh'nyel‘»
964 Bull'an Bill'n Decoy: or, The Arizona Crack Shot.
95S Bull'an Bill‘s Mazeppa-(‘haum

94R Bullalo Bill‘u Snap-Shot ; cr. Wild Kid's Texnn Tnlly
'2 Bull'alo Blll'u Tough Tunnle. .

936 Bull'an Blll‘n Boy M a-eoi: "r. J06 Jnrvm’ “old-up.

. Bull'an Bill‘s (‘rat-k-nhot I’ard. .

mo nutrino mum It... I’m-d: nr. Butterfly Hilly.

216 Biron Bill. the Prince oi the mine.

222 Bipon Bill'n (,‘lue: \vr. Grit, the Bravo Sport.

BY BI'FF.‘.LO BILL.

"1
55 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Seoul, or, The Banded Brotherhood!
6" Border Robin flood: or, The Prairie Rover. f. -
158 Farley Frank of l‘olorado: or, The Trapper'l Trult.
1029 The Phantom Spy.
1088 Karma!- king; or, The Red Itight lland.‘

BY CAPT. ALFRED ii. TAYLOR, 11. S. A.

191 Blllralo Billy. the Boy Hullwhnrker.
194 Bull'alo Bill’s Bet: ur. The Gamer Guido-

BY COL. PBlCN’l‘IhS INGRAHAM.

103'? The Artl-t Deteetive.

1034 The Gold \Yitell'n Miadower.

103: The Texan lluntleru in (ulna. _

102? The ('owhoy Baidern in Calm

1025 The Flying \ anhee or. The Ocean Outcast.

1023 The (‘ouboj (‘lan in (‘|I"a. \

1016 The Boy Bugler in Cuba. I
932 New Yorl. Nat‘~ Dro : “I. Fxrpi'YT‘i SSW" 30“ G"
9‘36 New York Nut and i re ’l'raitor Ferret.

9'20 New Yorl. Nat _

911» New Yorl.’ Nat'n' 'i hree of a kind. .-
SNN New York Nat'n Double.

002 New York Nat'n in (mint-ado. ‘ ;
3‘06 New Yorl. Nut in Gold Nugget Camp. ,'
889 New York .Nat'n Deadly Deal.

was New York Natl (‘rcoL-(‘hanm

8‘77 New York Natl-i Trump Card.

STl New York .\at and the (irau- Ghouls.

865 New York .Nat'n Marked Mat-wot.

859 New York Nat. thi- (intuit: l‘hbn'iite.

353 Dlek Doom'a Kidnapper Knock-Out.

3+}? Dlel.’ Doom'a 'l'en Htriluu

4 Die!" Doom'u Final! lland.

. .{cd , the Kansas Kid.

3
55
L

4‘
v
g.-

$
N
6:

 

‘J
2. Dlel. Doom‘n Broth-(hip: or. The Dt‘lt‘l‘lth‘ by Destiny.
7 “lei. Doom’a Destiny: t.r.’l'ln- Rlxer lilarlJeg'a Terror. 4
1 Dick Doom: “1'. ‘l he 8" out: and Shorhw ivi New YOl'li.

\' Illel.’ Doom ill lio~tonz or, A Man at Many Mutiny.

3 Dirk Doom in (‘ltieaum

1.“ Dick Doom in the “’ild “'enl. ‘ ‘ ‘

308 Dlel. Doom'a ('lean fl“ eem onl‘lve Linltsinabluul‘
808 Diel. Doom’u Death ('lue.

Hill Diel. Dooru’n‘ Diamond lteul.

H10 Dick Doom's (ilrl Maia-oi.

9‘29 Dlel.’ Doom‘n hhadow llunt.

X55 Dlel.’ Doom'n Big llnul. :»
740 Dauhlng ('harlie: nr,’l‘ln- Kentucky'l‘onderfeot’s Flrat'rrnh
7.36 Dru-thing- ("harlle‘n llentiny: or,’l‘ha Renegade’l Captive.
760 Dav-hing ( harlle’u l‘aa nee Paul.

766 Dar-thing Charlie, the llermwr.

49? Buck Taylor, Kim: oi the Cowboys.

'21 1’ ltllt‘ld Taylor. the f‘oninixelte‘s (Blythe. .
748 Back Taylor-u Boy u; ii,'l he 1m Ridersol the Rio Grande.
And Fifty Others.

BY LIEUT. A. Ii. SIMS.

589 Tom-Cat and Ford: or. Th9 Dead Set at Silver City.
622 Torn-Cat’s ’l'riad: er. 1 ll!‘ Allair at 'l'urnbatnne. '~
681 Tom Cat‘s 'l‘errlhle Tank: or 'lhv(‘ow|:oy Detective
688 Tom-Cat’n 'l'riumph' or, Black Dan’s Grrat Combine.
546 Captain Caetumthc Chaparral (Took; or, Jnnlifs Ten Strike.
56 The Dandy of Dodge: orv RItFlllllL‘,lm'dilllltotls.

576 The Silver Sport: nr. .lonligl’eivpennllti.BJubllee.

588 Sallron Sol, the Man With a . hadnw

601 Happy Ilanu, tin- Duteh Yitlocq'. or,}lotTimesat Round-UR
611 Blldad Barnacle, the Detective Hercule-a.

646 (‘owlroy Gld. the (‘nttle-llunge Detective.

657 W'arbllug “'illlam the_hlountain Mountebank.

665 Jolly Jeremiah, the Plillml Detective.

676 filgnal Sam, the Lookout Scout: “
(“‘9 Billy the “3-D. y spy: or, ’1 he Myrternyol'l‘wo Liven.
699 Slvnp e film, the Broncho Buster: onlmr i2 Stakes.
712 The Meumerint Sport; or, The Mystifiod Detective.J
733 Toltee Tom, the hind Prospector.

745') Kantian Jim the Cross-Cut. Detective.

761 Marmaduke, the Mustang" Detective.

778 The Rustler of Rolling Stone.

785 Lone "and Joe the Committee otOno.

801 Kent Kirby, the High-Kicker from Kilbuck.

888 The Dot-tor Dete olive in Texan.

878 Two Rhowuteu Deter-then in Colorado. >
98? The Texan Firehrnno: «r. Bruce Billy sSuap.Sirot.‘3
961 The Trump‘s Trump-Trick.

NEW ISSUES.

10M "and Dick Deeoyed. By Robert R. Inrunu.

1065 Rare _ hot Seth, the Boy Rlfiemnn. By Oll Gnomes.
1066 (‘o ‘ boy Chriu, the Des rt. Centaur. Ry  Wilder.
106’? You Bet Bob‘I Jan le. By Arizona 

1068 The Cruise of the ca Wolf. By (‘0 . mgr-bun.
1069 0a Land and Fen. By Bmcebildire Hemyngj 3
1 070 Nat Toddt’or, Tho Fate of too Sioux Captive. By Eng.
1071 Dandy Diek’i Decoy, Bv BthRlnmln.
107. Keel Knife, Prince of tho Praia“. By Oil Coon“.

JUST ISSUED.

5 Rod Raven’s Redskin Ruse. By Col. P. lumin-
1352 Cowboy Chris in Cinnabar. By Wm. W. Wilda. :
1057 Gold Rifle, the Shnrpuhootrr. By Ed. L, Wheeler.
1058 Roderick, the flour. By'l‘. J. Flanaga-

1059 Ned Wylde tho Boy Scout. yToxu Jack.

1060 Marlo, the Benet-do. By Col. Prentlu (rumba-i.
1061 Filver Star, the Boy Knight. By on (mine- _
106 The Left-"and Athlete. By Bmobrldyo limit.
10“ Wild 3111’: “'eird Foe. By Wu. G Patten.

A New Issue Every Tug-day. h
. i t f ukhy tuna-dun,
“fiwgufi Jog... stood-out.
'BEADLE AND ADAM. Publluhoro.
92 William Street, New York.

Trapped. 3"

 

 

  

  

BEADLE’SrDIMErflBRARY.

Published Every lVednesday. Each Issue

  

Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

 

BY JOSEPII E. BADGER. JR.

928 Old Sobcrsiiles, tho Emotive of St. Louis.

92 'thitc-Hoi‘so Wheeler, the Revenue Detective.
The DolllJll‘ ling l Detective.

Maverick Mark. the Mun from Nowhere.

Silky Steele, the Stay—iii Sport.

T-ie S Hitter-Sport s Neck-Tie Parlv,

U!

918
907
898
88 l

8’70 Higli- Vater Mark; or, Silver-Tip Sid.
862 Riala Rob, the- llangc Champion.

85") The C -\vllUV Chief‘s Sure-Shot.

849 The liivul Red-lint Sports.

837' Curly Kill. the Clieyi-iine Sport.

The Soft Hand I)f't( ctive.

81:3 The Soft Hand‘s (.‘lutcli.

809 Dan Dunn. the Soft-Hand Sport.

796 The Frisco Dcti'ctlve’s Tiling-Tangle.

2'89 Sam Cary. the River Sport.

"80 The Dead Sport‘s Iioiiblc.

171 Prince John, Detectch Special.

763 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective.

754 ’l he Man from Texas; or. Dangerfield.
Doctor Detective.

4 Sivecpstakes Sam, the Silver Sport.

The Secret Six; or, Old Halcyon.

The. Man of Silk.

Bantam Bob. the Bounty from Butte.

Kent Kassoii, the l’i'l'aclier Sport.

Bob Breeze, tlic l-loundei' Detective.

Steel Surry, the Sport from Sunrism

Solemii Saul’s Luck Streak

The Get—'l‘here Sharp.

Silvertip Strive, the Sky Scraper from Sisxiyou.

Gopher Gabe, tlic Unsven Detective.

Dandy Darling, Detective.

Mossback Mose, ihc Mountaineer.

The (i‘rriprSack Sharp's Even up.

Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte.

Sandy Sands. the Sharp from Snap City.

Silver-Tongned Sid: or, (lripSuck Sharp’s Sweep.

The Grip-Sack Sharp: or. The Seraphs of Sodom.

GriprSack Sid. the Sample Sport.

' l The Buried Detective; or. Saul’s Six Sensations.

Major Magnet, the Elan ol‘ Nerve.

' Dandy Dutch. tlic. Decorator from Dead-Lift;

Dandy Andy. lll(‘ Diamond Dctcctivc.

Gabe Gunn. the Grizzly from Ginseng.

Solemn Saul. the Sad Man from San Saba.

495 Rattlepate Rob; 01‘. Thu Roundhcad’s Reprisal

488 The ’I‘lioroughhi'cd Sport.

474 Daddy Dead-Eye, the Dcsnot of Dew Drop. ,

'466 Old Rough and Ready, the Sage of Sundown

458 Dutch Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg.

44?) A Cool liand; or, Pistol Johnny‘s Picnic.

438 Oklahoma Nick.

433 Laughing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard.

426 The Ghost Detective; or. The Secret Service Spy.

416 Monte Jim. the Black Sheep of Bismarck.

‘09 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps 01' Pan Handle.

403 The Nameless Sport.

395 Deadly Aim. the Duke of Dcrringers.

387 D‘lI‘K Durg. the Ishmael of the Hills.

372 Captain Crisp, the Man witlia Record.

367 A Royal Flush: or, Dan Brown’s Big Game.

360 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown.

355 Storm Steve. the Mad Athlete.

851 Nor‘ est Nick. the Border Detective.

345 Masked Mark. the Mounted Detective.

339 Spread Eagle Sam, the Hercules Hide Hunter.

331 Chispa Charley. the Gold Nugget Sport.

317 Frank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective.

292 Moke Homer, the Boss Roustabout.

286 Pistol Johnny; or, One Man in a Thousand.

283 Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mines.

257 Death Trap Diggings: or. A Man ’Way Back

249 Elephant Tom. of Duranzo.

241 Spitfire Saul. King of the Bustiers.

233 The Old Boy of Tombstone.

201 Pirate of the Placers: or. Joaqiiin’s Death Hunt

180 Old ‘49; or. The Amazon of Arizona.

170 Sweet William, the Trapper Detective.

165 Joaquin. the Terrible

154 Joaquin, the Saddle King.

141 Equinox Tom, the Bully of Red Rock.

119 Alabama Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters.

105 Dan Brown of Denver; or. The Detective.

88 Big George; or. The Five Outlaw Brothers.

71 Captain Cool Blade: or. Mississippi Man Shark.
67 The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty vs. Crookedness.
50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie Sport.

BY \VM. G. PATTEN.

810 Fire-Eye, the Thug’s Terror.

795 Old Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower.

768 The Prince of New York Crooks.

756 Old Burke, the Madison Square Detective.
747 Double-voice Dan‘s Double Disguise.

715 Double—Voice Dan on Deck.

702 Double-VoiCe Dan, the Always-on-Deck Detective
596 Double—Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective,
689 The Sparkler Sharp.

676 Hurricane Hal. the Cowboy Hotspur.

669 Old True Blue, the Trusty.

663 The Giant S ort; or, Sold to Satan.

656 Old Plug gly. the Rough and Ready.

648 Gold Glove Gid, the Man of Grit.

641 Aztec Jack, the. Desert Nomad.

631 Colonel Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp. ,

602 Ca tain Nameless. the Mountain Mystery.
571 Ok Dismal, the Range Detective.

545 Hustler Harry, the Cowboy Sport.

BY GEORGE C. JENKS.

910 The Arizona Detective.
894 Silver Sam. the Shasta Sport.
880 Thé Silver Sport’s Double.
868 The Race-Course Detective.
856 The Hayseed Detective. .
772 Cu taln Corden, the Twister Detectivg.

755 W (1 Pete the Broncho-anter Detective.
726 Fearless Sam. the Grand Combination Detective.
719 Boston Bob, the S ort Detective.

572 Jannty Joe, the ockey Detective.

554 Mad Sharp, the Rustler

888 Rube Rocket. the Tent Detective.

526 Death-Grip, the Tenderfoot Detect“.

507 The Drummer Detective.

m The Giant Horseman

892 Sleepless Eye. the, Pacific Detective.

m
53

the

F4
‘72
712
705
693
683
675
668
661
651
645
636
627
617
597
588
576

BY ‘VILLIAI‘I R. EYS'I‘ER.

916 Two Dead-Square Sports.
902 Soft Velvet, tnc Man troiii Sandrock.
891 (it‘lltt‘l‘l Jim. Spoi't-at-Lai‘gc.
881 Thc Cluliinaii—L‘niok's Cat's—paw.
867 The Frisco Sport.
8712 The Strargnr Sport‘s Shake~up.
Kirk King. the Man from Kirby.
(lenllcnnin Dave, the Dead Game Sport
The Kiiig~Pin 'J‘i‘ainn.
The Sport oi: bilvor llend.
Uncle llcdrock’s Big Bounce.
The Rival liovci's.
lloulilo (‘iiicli Dan. tlic Sport “'ilh a. Charm.
Mr. Jackson, the (lent from Jayhird.
Gill—lidgc Johnny; or. Roldan and His Rovers.
Lucky Li-slcr‘s Lone llaiid.
Old llandcart‘s Big Dump.

Tho All Around Sports.
603 Desorz All", the llan With the Cougar.
590 (leiilchm-k, tln‘ High Roller from Humbug.
57' Seven Shot Stevc. llic Sport with a Smile.
5le The Dude Detectivc. .
558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon.
5A Belsliazzar Brick, the lailltl‘ of Blue Blazes.
": Oregon. the Sport \\ ith aScar.
503 The Dude from Dcnvcr.
478 Pinnacle l’l'tc; or. The Fool from Way Back.
45. Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives.
429 Hair Trigger Toni oi" Rial Bond.
402 Snapshot Sam; or. The Angels’ F at Racket.
2596 The Pipcr Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang.
375 ’.oyal George, the Throw in (Inn,
3.’ Thrm Handsome Sports; or, The Combination.
33:3 Derringer Dick. the Man with the Drop.
268 Magic Mike. ‘lic Man of Frills.
229 Captain (‘u'siem'm or, The Little Sport.
21 l The Two Cool Sports: or, Gertie of the Gulch.
182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon.
100 Soft Hand. Sharp: or. Tho Man with the Sand.
145 Pistol Purds; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar

BY NED BIINTLINE.

Long Tom. the Privateer.
The Sea Spy.
The Red Privateer: or. The Midshipman Rover.
I‘llrl‘ Feather. tho Buccaneer King.
Buffalo Bill’s First Trail.
Tombstone Dick. the Train Pilot.
1722 Saul Salilicrday, tho ldiot Spy.
111 The Sinugglcr l Yaptain: or. The Skippcr’s Crime.
18 The Sea Bandit; or The Queen of the Isle.
16 The \Vhite Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet.

BY JACICSON liNOX—“Old Hawk.”

8:38 Olzl Grips Still Hunt.

827 Detective ~.‘uldcii‘s Web.

778 The Butler Detective: or, Old Gi'ip’s Grip

770 The Showman Dereriive.

762 Old Grip. the Detective.

7’40 Captain Clew, the Fighting Detective.

732 The Hurricane Detective.

643 Castleniaine, the Silent, Sifter.

816 Magnus, the Weird Detective.

606 The Drop Detective.

595 Wellborii, the Upper Crust Detective.

582 Joram. tho llctcctchExpcrt.

574 Old Falcon‘s Double.

561 The Thug King; or. The Falcon Detective’s Foe.
548 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective.

536 Old Falcon‘s Foe: or. The Dctcctive’s Swell Job.
515 Short-Stop Majc, the Diamond Field Detective.
509 Old Falcon. tho Thunderbolt Detective.

501 Springsteel Steve, the Retired Detective.

494 The Dctcctive’s S y.

485 Rowlock. the Bar or Detective.

477 Dead-arm Brandt.

467 Mainwaring. the Salamander.

462 The Cincus Detective.

451 Griplock. the Rocket Petective.

444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Band.

424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy.

386 Hawk Heron. the Falcon Detective.

I
f;
I

S 18
783
767
718
Ti )7
687
677’
6.39
650
634

6'32

9
5.35

657
633}
621
581
517

3151

BY J. C. COIVDRICK.

752 The Sus 001: S ort of Daisy Drift.
Ducats ion, t ie Nabob Sport Detective.
612 Sheriff Stillirood, the Regulator of Raspberry.
598 The Dominic Detective.
591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective.
580 Shadowing a Shadow.
565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective.
557 The Mountain Graybeards; or. Riddles’ Riddle.
519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger
.. Twilight Charlie. the oad Sport.
473 Gilbert of Gotham. the Steel-arm Detective.
452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas.
436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine.
422 Blue Grass Burt. the Gold Star Detective.
390 The Giant Cupid: or Cibut‘a John’s Jubilee.

BY ED‘V ARI) XVI LLET'I‘.

483 Flush Fred. the River Sharp.

368 The Canyon King; or. a Price on his Head.

348 Dan Dillon, King of Crosscut.

337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp.

327 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective.

315 Flush Fred‘s Double; or, The Squatters’ League
308 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True.

298 Logger Lem: or. Li to in the Pine Woods.

289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand.

274 Flush Fred. the Mississippi Sport.

248 Montana Nat, the Lion 0 Last Chance Camp.
222 Bill the Blizzard; or. Red Jack’s Crime.

209 Buck Farley. the Bonanza Prince. .

129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man '5 Sacrifice.

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.

237 The White Squaw.

284 The Hunter’s Feast.

211 The Wild Huntress: or. The Squatter.

.200 The Rifle Rangers; or. Adventures in Mexico.

' 74 The Captain of the Rifl°s: or. The Lake ,ueen.
66 The Specter Bat-qua. A Tn 1e of the Fuel c.

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65 The Scalp Hunters. A Roma rice or the Plains.

 

BY (10L. PRENTISS INGRAHAh .

911 The Bluc Blockader; or, The Coast Grayhound.
906 The Cuban Cruiser. '

851 The Oct-an Gipsv.

The Wild Stcci‘ llidi-rs; or, Texas Jack‘s Terrors.
. The Rival Monte Cristos.

’ ’l‘lie Lust of the Pirates; or. Doom Driven.

The Water “'0ch5’ Detective; or, Trapping the
Grave Ghouls.

791 The Coast-Raidcr’s Death-Chase.

748 Arizona Clziu‘ill‘, tl'c Clark-snot Dotectwe.

701 Invisible Ivan. the Wizard ln-tectivc.

685 The ' led-skin Sin-i Rov: i'.

679 Rcvcllo, the Pirate Cruisvr; or. The Rival Rovers
672 The Rwl Rapier: or, The St a l'lovor’s Bride.

662 The Jew llrl‘cct ivc: or, The Bcautit’ul Convict.

The ltovwr’s Ril ibntioii.

.' The Ex Buccaneer; or, The Stigma of Sin.

‘ .' Rod Wings; or. The Gold Suckers oftlie Bahamas.
' .’ The Three ‘. llCClelf‘l'l'S.

The Red Fla;r Rover ; or,White Wings Cf the Deep.
7 The Shadow Silver Ship.

The Silver Ship; or, The Sea Scouts of ‘70.

‘ The Sea Rebel: or. Red Rovers of the Revolution.
(,‘onrad. the Sailor Spy; or. True Hcaits of ’76.
The Oiitlawed Skipper; or, The Gaiitlct Runner.
The Man from Mexico.

Mink Monte, thc Mutincer; or, The Branded Brig.
Th5 lioomcd Whaler: or, The Life Wreck. -
The Savages of the Sea.

The Sea Cl‘msvr; or. The Pirate N oblc.

El Mom, “1" Corsair Commodore.

The Scouts of the Sea.

The Sea lnsurgcnt: or. The Conspirator Son.
Ocean Ogre, thc Outcast Corsair.

Tho ()ne-Ai‘iiicd Buccaneer.

The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love and War.
The New Monte Cristo.

The Convict (‘aptiam

7 Alloat, and Ashore: or. The Corsair Conspiraton.
'. The Coast Corsair: or. The Siren ol.‘ the St-ka.

'« The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of the Coast.
The Sea Desperado.

' The Magic Sliip'L or. Sandy Hook Froclmoters.

‘ ‘ ;' The Gontleiiiriii .i’ii'ato ; or. The Casco Ilei'mits.
318 Thcliidiiin linccaiieci': or. ’lhclll-d Rovers.

307 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves.

255 The Pirate Priest: or. The Gambler’s Daughter.
246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Overland.

13-15 Rod Lightning the Man of Chance.

224 Black Board. the Buccaneer.

220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother‘s Crime.

210 Buccaneer Boss. the Lioness of the Sea.

205 The Gaiiiblcr Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagoon.
198 The Skeleton Schooner; or. The Skimmer.

184 The Scarlet Schooner: or. The Sea, Nemesis.

104 Montezuma. the Merciless.

103 Merle, the Miitiiieer; 'or, The Red Anchor Brand.

BY PHILIP S. \VARNE.

802 Dan Dirk, King of No Man’s Land.
58"} Captain Adair. the Cattle King.
567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft.
514 The Back to Back Pards.
522 The Champion Three.
502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the Plains.
472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie To.”
431 Calif ornia Kit, the Always on Hand.
404 Silver Sid; or, A “ Daisy ” Bluff.
380 Tiger Dick‘s Pledge; or, The Golden Serpent.
359 Yellow Jack. the Mcstizo.
338 Jack Sands. the Boss of the Town.
299 Three of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard and the Sport.
251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Despard.
207 Old Hard Head: or, Whirlwind and his Mare.
171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart.
114 The Gentleman from Pike.
80 A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban the Dwarf.
51 Always on Hand; or. The Foot-Hills Sport.
29 Tiger Dick. Faro King; or, The Cashier’s Crime.
4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Shanghai.

BY CAPTAIN MARK \VILTON.

323 Hotspur Hugh; or. The Banded Brothers.
311 Heavy Hand: or, The Marked Men.

305 Silvm‘-Plated So], the Montana Rover.

291 Horseshoe Hank. the Man of Big Luck.

285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror.

276 Texas Chick. the Southwest Detective.

271 Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. 1

266 Leopard Luke. the King of Horse-Thieves
2113 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer
258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo.

237 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black Lea e.
227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Ida i0.

223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain.

219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Mission,
202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide.

194 Don Sombrero. the California. Road Gent.

176 Lady J aguai'. the Robber Queen.

BY OLL COOMES.
619 Kit Bandy & Co , the Border Detectives.
148 One-Armed Alf, the Giant Hunter.
99 The Giant Riflemaii: or. Wild Camp Life.
43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger.

BY COL. TllOl‘lIAS H. MONSTERYo

236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchs of the $106
150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen.

BY DR. NOEL DUNBAR.
919 The Sea Scout; or, The Patriot Privateer.
886 The King of Crooks.
858 Number One, the Dead-set Detective.
850 The Planter Detective.
730 Duke DeSpard. tho Gambler Duelist.
604 The Detective in Rags; or, The Grim Shade-“-
500 The True-Heart PardS.
1 new tame worn Wednesday

Beadle’n Dime Library is for sale I
Newsdealers, ten cents per copy. or sent by m a»
receipt of twelve cents esr' ,

  

 

 

 

      
 

   

 

BEADLE’SrDIMErflBRARYL

Wished Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

 

BUFFALO BILL NOVELS.

By Colonel Prentiss lngraham.
994 Buffalo Bill‘s Lone Hand.
989 Buffalo Bill’s Marked Bullet.
984 Buffalo Bill’s Life Raffle.
Buffalo Bill’s It‘l'dllless Trail.
Buffalo Bill‘s Iiivinz-ibles.
Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade.
Buffalo Bill‘s Volunteer Vigilantes.
Buffalo Bill at l-lav.
2 Buffalo Bill‘s Block Game.
‘ Buffalo Bill s Black Purd.
Buffalo Bill‘s Bluff: or, Dusky Dick the Sport.
Buffalo Bill‘s Quandary: or. Velvet Bill's Vow.
Buffalo Bill and the Slll'gt’ODeSCOlll.
Buffalo Bill’s League: or. Red Butterfly.
Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Trail.
Buffalo Bill‘s Rough Riders.
Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally.
Buffalo Bill‘s Lite-Stake.
The Three Bills: Buffalo Bill Wild Bill and Band-
box Bill: or. The Bravo in Broadcloth.
874 Buffalo Hill’s Buckskin Braves.
869 Buffalo Bill's Road-Agent Round—up.
86‘ Buffalo Bill‘s Death Charm.
857 Buffalo Bill‘s Royal Flush.
851 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma.
815 Buffalo Bill’s Redskin Ruse.
630 Buffalo Bill‘s Bovsin Blue.
Buffalo Bill‘s Sharp-Shooters.
Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower.
Buffalo Bill‘s Red Trail.
Buffalo Bill’s Death-Knoll.
Buffalo Bill‘s Winning Hand
Buffalo Bill’s. Dead Shot.
Buffalo Bill's Brand.
Buffalo Bill‘s Spy Shadower.
. Buffalo Bill‘s Sweepstake.
' Biffalo Bill’s Dozen: 01‘, Silk Ribbon Sam.
Buffalo Bill‘s Mascot.
7 Buffalo Bill‘s Double.
Buffalo Bill‘s Big Fonrzor, Custer‘s Shadow.
Buffalo Bill‘s Flush Hand.
Buffalo Bill‘s Blind: or. The Masked Driver.
Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men.
Buffalo Bill's Beagles: or, Silk Lasso Sam.
Buffalo Bill’s Bodv Guard.
Buffalo Bill on the Wur- )ath.
Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers.
Buffalo Bill Bafiled: or. The Deserter Desperado.
697 Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood.
691 Buffalo Bill’s Blind-’l‘rail; or. Mustang Madge.
667 Buffalo Bill‘s Swoop; or. The King of the Mines.
658 The Cowlwv Clan: or, The Tigress of Texas.
653 Lassa King’s League: or, Buck Taylor in Texas.
649 Buffalo Bill‘s Chief of Cowboys: or. Buck Taylor
614 Buffalo Bill‘s Bonanza; or. Si ver (‘ircle Knights.
362 Buffal ill‘s Grip: or. Oath Bound to Custer.
329 Buffalo Bill’s Pledge: or. The League of Three.
189 Wild Bill‘s Gold Trail; or. The Desperate Dozen.
175 Wild Bill’s 'l‘runip Card: or, The Indian Heiress.
168 Wild Bill. the Pistol Dead Shot.

By Bu fl‘ulo Bill.

973 The Dread Shot Four

$159 Texas Jack, the Lasso King

889 The Ranch King Dead-Shot.

8‘30 White Beaver ’s Still Hunt.

807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist.

800 Wild Bili. the Dead-Center Shot.

639 Buffalo Bill‘s Gold King.

599 The Dead Shot Nine: or. My Pards of the Plains.
414 Red Renard. the Indian Detective.

401 One-Armed Pam; or. Borderland Retribution.
397 The Wizard Brothers: or. White Beaver’s Trail.
391 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte.

319 Wild Bill. the Whirlwind of the West.

304 Texas Jack. the Prairie Rattler.

243 The Pilgrim Sharp: or. The Soldier's Sweetheart.
83 Gold Bullet Sport: or, Knights of the Overland.
52 Death-Trailer. the Chief of Scouts.

8'82

5}.

716
710

By Leon Lewis, Ned Biintline, etc.

773 Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or. Cody to the. Rescue.
682 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail.
629 Buffalo Bill‘s Darin Role; or. Daredeath Dick.
517 Buffalo Bill’s First ’ rail; or, The Express Rider.
158 Buffalo Bill, (‘hief of Scouts.

117 Buffalo Bill s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy.

92 Buffalo Bill. the Buckskin King.

BY [{AROLD PAYNE.
893 The Man from Mexico in New York.
872 The King-Pin Shark: or. Thad Barr’s Ten Strike,
861 The Tenderloin Big Four
853 The Quaker City Crook.
844 Tracked to Chicago.
836 The Policy Broker‘s Blind.
829 The. Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand.
821 The Tramp ShadOWer‘s Backer.
813 The Sham Spotter‘s Shrer Scheme.
806 The Grand Street Gold-Dust Sharpers.
798 Detective Barr‘s Lunaiic Witness
792 The Wall Street Shurper's Snap.
784 Thad Burr’s Death Drop. _
742 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs.
734 Detective Bin-r’s Foil: or, A Woman’s strategy.
728 Detective Burr. the. Headquarters Specml.
718 Detective Burr‘s Spirit Chase.
7% DetectiVe Burr‘s Seven Clues.
698 Thad Burr. the Invincible: or, The “L ” Clue.
690 The Matchless Detective.
680 XX. the Fate] Clew; or, Burr’s Master Case.

BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY.

995 The Czar’s Spy.’

$6 Iron Wrist. the Swordmaster.

236 Champion Sam: or. The Monarchs of the Show.
150 El Rnbio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen.

BY J W. OSBON.

m Shadrac‘i. the Sport Detective.

92: Gilbert Goldspur. the Dandy Sport.

905 Shasta Sam, the hparkler.

877 Cool Greene. t'h ~‘ DeadShot.’

759 Thenlx‘pm" f-o'n St. Louis.
01 “Royal Richard. the Thoroughbred.

 

 

BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLIYIES.
9‘29 Gentleman George, the Showman Sport.
91:: (it‘llld’f’l Joe's Lone Hand.

90:5 The Train Detective.

896 Kent Keen, the Crook-Crusher.

SSS Nightshade. in New York.

879 Falcon Flynn, the Flash Detective.
The Crook Cashier.

85' (‘lcw—Hawk Kcene‘s Right Bower.

817 llirani Hawk. the llzll‘lt’l‘l] Detectiva,

Sill Major Bullion, Boss of the. Tigers.

S31 Shadowing the London Detective.

' Plush Velvrt. the Print-.- of Spotters.

The Bogus Broker’s Bight BOWer.

’ The Nlillll-ll‘u‘lk Defective.

Silk Rilihoii‘s Crush-out.

Detective Zach, the Broadway Spotter.

The Dark Lantern Detr ctive.

The Never-Fail Detective.

Captain Hercules. the Strong Arm Detective.

Dan Damon, the (iiltlfitlge Detective.

Silver Stew. the Branded Sport.

Gideon Grip. the Seeiet Shadower.

\‘elvetYan. the Mystery Shadower.

’ The Dude Desperado ‘

Jason Clew. the Silk-Handed Ferret.

Monk Morel, the Man-llunter.

Sol Sphinx. the Ferret Detective.

Red Part1 and Yellow.

Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx.

gel
3—;

592 Captain Sid, the Shasta Ferret.

579 Old Corn‘iorant. the Bowery Shadow.
5369 Captain Cobra. the Hooded Mystery.
559 Danton. the Shadow Sharp.

550 Silk Hand, the Mohave Ferret.

513 The filagiiatc Defective.

532 Jack Javert. the, Independent Detective.

5'33 Reynnrd of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective
512 Captain Velvet‘s Big Stake.

505 Phil Fox. tlit-Geiin-el Spotter.

496 Richard Redni'e. the Two Worlds” Detective.

487 Sunshine Sam. a Chip of the Old Block.

480 Haivkspear. the Man with a Secret.

4611 Coldgrip iii Deadwwid.

460 Captain Coldsrrip. the Detective.

453 Captain Coldgi'ip‘s Long: Trail.

Volcano. the l'TlSCO Spy.

The California Sharp.

Lucifer Lynx. the \\ onder Detective.

Father Ferret. the Frisco Shadow.

3 Captain (Toldgrip in New York.

7 Captain Coidgrip's Nerve: 01'. lnjun Nick.
Captain Coldgrip: or. The New York Spotter.

5 * The Lost Bonanza: or. The Boot of Silent Hound.
t ‘ The Bonanza Band: or, Dread Don of Cool Clan.
Major Blister. the Sport of Two Cities.

Keen Kennard. the Shasta Shadow.

The Desperate Down.

Denver Duke. the Man with “ Sand.”

Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective.

Flash Dan. the Nabob. or. Blades of Bowie Bar.
California Claude. the Lone Bandit.

Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy.

The Shadow Sport from Frisco.

BY \VILLIAIVI H. HIANNING.
The Red-Gloved Detective.
Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch.
The Montana Miner in New York.
908 The. Doomsday-Den Detective.
899 The Double-Quick Detective.
893 Yellow Gid. of Dark Divide.
885 The Expert Detective‘s Shake-up.
875 Trap ring the Race-Track Judge.
864 The ’olice Special’s Dilemma.
849 The Genteel Sharper’s Combine
841 Graydon's "Double Deal.
833 The Sport DetectiVe’s Grip. 1
8'33 The Athlete Sport About Town.
808 TheCrook-Detective’s Pull.
790 Plunger Pete, the Race Track Detective.
782 Royal Rock, the Round-up Detective.
774 Steve Starr. the Dock Detective.
764 The-New York Sharp’s Shadower.
738 Detective Chixton. the Record Breaker.
7 4

40

340
335
321
291
9-11

948
93 1
9:30

Gabe Gall, the Gambolier from Great Hump,
Spokane Saul. the Samaritan Suspect

Q.

692 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Ex lorer.
655 Strawberry Sam. the Man with the irthmark.

616
(B8
623
61 1
596
585
570
563

551

Dark John, the Grim Guard.

Murdock, the Dread Detective.

Dangerous Dave, the Never-Beaten Detective.
Alkali the. the Game Chicken from Texas.
Rustler Rube; the Round-Up Detective.

Dan Dixon‘s Double.

Steady Hand. the. Napoleon of Detectives
Wyoming Zeke, H e Hotspur of Honey suckle.
tarry Kean the Man with Backbone.

539 Old Doubledark. the Wily Detective.

531 Saddle-Chief Kit. the Prairie Centaur.

521 Paradise Sam. the NON-West Pilot.

513 Texas Tartar, the Man With Nine Lives.

506 Uncle Honest. the l‘eacemaker of Hornets’ Nest.
498 Central Pacific Paul. the Mail Train Spy.

49-2 Border Bullet. the Prairie Sharpshooter.

496 Kansas Kitten. the Northwest Detective.

479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack.

470 The Duke of Dakota. ,

463 Gold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator.

455 Yank Yelloubird. the Tall Hustler of the Hills.
449 Bluff Burke. King of the Rockies.

442 Wild West Walt. the Mountain Veteran.

437 Deep Duke: or, The Man of Two Lives.

427 The Rivals of Montana Mill.

415 Hot Heart, the Detective Spy.

40:) Old Baldy the Brigadier of Buck Basin.

29? Colorado Rube. thx- Strong Arm of Hotspur.

279 The Gold Dragoon, or, California Bloodhound.

BY NED BUNTLINB.
657 Long Tom, the Privateer.
633 The Sea Spy.i
621 The Red Privateer: or. The Midshipman Rover.
584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King.
517 Buffalo Bill‘s First Trail.
361 Tombstone Pick. the Train Pilot.
122 Sqnl Fiahlmr 1'1". flu: Idiot, Sn?-
111 The Sum  ' i-*aii~: u". T -eSkipper's Crime.
19 The Sea ism-Wt: ' r. The Queen of the Isle.

“TheWhiIe wmm- - 'i‘he SeminoleProphet. :' " "W

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' receipt of price. ...

 

ALBERT \V. AIICEN’S NOVELS.
Dick Talbot Series.
991 Dick Talbot at the Mines: or, Kcntuck. the Sport.
9‘4". Rocky Mountain Rob
976 Overland Kit: or. The ldyl of White Pine.
Dick ialhot‘s Close Call.
27 Dick Talbot in Apache land.
33 Dick Talbot. the Ranch King.
‘~. Dick Talhot’s Clean-Out.
27: Dick Talbot in No Man’s Camp.
Dick Talbot: oi. The Brand of Crimson Cross
' Dick Talbot: or. The. Death-Shot of Shasta.

Aiken’s Fresh of Frisco Series.
' Fresh. the Race-Track Sport.
The Fresh in Montana: or. Blake‘s Full Hand.
‘ The Fresh‘s Riistle at Painted City.
7 The Fresh at Santa Fe: « r, 'l'li -Sii'an;zer Sham. -
' Fresh. 1 he Sport: or. The Bit: Racket at Slide Out.
~ Fresh Against. the Field: 01', Blake. the Lion.
The Fresh in Texas: or. The Est-tilif‘tlo Millions.
The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande. ‘
7 The Fresh in Big Walnut (lamp; or. Bronze Jacs:
Aiken’s Joe Phenix Series.
" Joe l’lienix‘s Mascot.
Joe l’henix's Double Deal.
.. Joe l’lii-iiix in Chicago.
919 The Doctor from Texas: or, JoePlienix’s Clue.
944 Joe Phenix‘s Right Bou'er.
865 The Female Barber Dctectiv. ; or, Joe Phenix in
Silver City.
799 Joe Phenix‘s Great Blue Diamond Case; or, The
New York Sport at Lr‘ng Branch.
793 Joe .‘u‘henix‘s Decoy: or, The Man of Three.
760 Joe Phenix‘s Lone Hand.
749 Joe Phenix‘s Big Bulge.
745 Joe. l’lienix’s )ltid Case.
708 Joe Phenix‘s Siren: or, The Woman Bawkshaw...
700 Joe Phcnix‘s Unknown; or. Crushing the Crooks

951

681 Joe Pheiiix‘s Specials: or, The Actress Detective
637 Joe Phenix in (‘razy Camp.
6?": Joe l’henix‘s Master Search.
628 Joe Phenix‘s Conihinn ; « rr,the Dandy Conspirator
620 Joe i’heiiix’s Silent Six.
601 Joe l‘henix‘s Shadow : or.tlie Dctective‘s Monitor
419 Joe Phenix., the King of Detectives.
161 Joe Phenix’s Great Man Hunt.
112 Joe Phenix. Private Detective; or, The League.
79 Joe Phenix. the Police, Spy.
Aiken’s Miscellaneous Novels.
980 The All-Around Athlete.
940 Captain Jack, the Scalper
935 The Hawks and Wolves of New York
932 Detective Gordon‘s Grip.
926 Old Sunflower. the Silent Smitcr.
9:53 Old SunflOWer. the Hayseed Detective.
901 The Hotel Swell-Sharp: er, The Siren Shadower.
89': The Countryman Detective.
76 Gold Button Sport: or, The Miner Sharps.
812 Teton Tom. the Half-Bleed.
8‘35 The King-Pin Detective.
814 The New Yorker Antoni: Texas Sports.
775 King Dandy, the Silver Sport.
753 Gideon’s Grip‘ at Babylon liar. '
717 Captain Pat IcGowen, the Greencoat Detective.
674 Uncle Sun Up. the Born Detective.
670 The Lightiv eight Detective. ,
665 The Frisco DetectiVe; or, The Golden the Find.
613 Keen Billy, the Sport.
607 Old Benzine, the “ Hard Case " Detective.
594 Fire Face, the Silver King’s Foe.
586 The Silver Sh arp Detective.
577 Tom, of Calif (-rnia: or, Detective's Shadow Act.
70 The Actress Detective: or, The Invisible Band
562 Lone Hand. the Shadow.
520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo.
490 The Lone Band in Texas.

475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective.

465 The Actor Detective.

440 The High Horse of the Pacific.

423 The Lone Hand; or. The Red River Recreants.
408 Doc Grip, the Vendetta of Death.

381 The Gy )sy Gen tlenian: (1'. Rick Fox. Detective
376 Black Beards: 01. The Rio Grande High Horse
370 The Dusky Detective: or. Pursued to the EEG.
363 Crowningshield, the Detective
320 The Genteel Spo tter: or Tlie_N. Y. Night Hawk.
$2 The Wail Street Blood: or. The Telegrai 11 Girl-
2 I The Double Detective: or.The Midnight Mystery.
196 La Marinoset, the Leiective Queen.

101 The Man from New York.
91 The Winning Oar: or. The lnnkeeper’s Daughter.
Hunted Down: or, The League of Three.

81 The Human Tiger: or. A Heart of Fire.

75 Gentleman George: or. Parlor. Prison and Street.
The Phantom Hand: or, The 5th Avenue Heiress.
56 The Indian Mazeppa: or, Madman of the Plains.
49 The Wolf" Demon: or. The Kannwhh Queen.

42 The California Detective: or, The W itches of N.Y.
31 The New York Sharp: or. The_Flash of Lightning-
27 The Spotter Detective: or. Girls of New Yprk.

NEW ESSUES.

1000 Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard. By Col. Ingraham,

1001 The Brand—Burners of Cimarron. By John W.
Osbon. -

1002 Silver City Sam. By Jos. E. Badger.

1003 Gold Dan; or, Dick Talbot in Utah. By Albert
\V. Aiken.

1004 Buffalo Bill’s Death Deal. By Col. Ingraham.

1005 Foot-Hills Frank. By Jos. E. Badger.

1006 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. lngrabam.

JUST ISSUED.

906 lnjim Dick. the Shasta Dead Shot. By Aiken.
997 Hotspur Hal, the Sport from Hard Luck. By

Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
998 Captain Seawait‘, Privateer. By Ned Buntline.
999 The Velvet Hand' or, The Iron Grip of Injun

Dick. By Albert . Aiken.

.1 new issue every Wednesday
THE DIME lJBRARY is for sale by a!)

Newsdealero. t“ certs or no: “r on!" by mail on

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iitzftalo lilll'H anll’lt'lllll‘S; lll'. Thi- Saltlv Sh'itl-‘
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‘512 IZ'tt'l'alu llill':: ll«:itli»l{iiril; or. 'i‘lit- liml lllllltl‘flnf,

ltitlt‘rs Hf :iw kiwi-:1: ~:. 11y (fol. l'. lllggfiitlzltttl. l

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ll'zl't‘aiu ltiil‘x Vuluzilw r Yiu'ilrnttv-s; or, Who
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linfl'aln ilill at. Hay;
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or, The tiultl S-wlu
lugrnhztnh

’ litin‘nln Hill's lllw‘lt (lame; ur, The Mixuntwl‘I

Mint-rs of llu- Hx'vrlantl. lly (Ml. l’. lil};’l;t.-
ham. l
linffalo Rili's‘ lilaL-l; l'ai‘tl; or, 'l'ln- (it‘lll‘
limrnml's of the- liit; linrn. Hy Pol. P. lnu'ru—j

ham. . l ..

liul‘i'aln Bill’s liiufl': or. Husky hit-k. thet
Sport. IJy ('ul. 1’. lngrahani.

Buffalo Bill's Quantlary; or. \‘t-lvrt Hill‘s
Vow. By (Jul. Prentiss lnuraliani.

Buffalo Bill and th.» Sill‘g‘t'un Sunni: or, (1.)—
\\'an—:.',o, the Redskin ilitiei. iiy (‘ul. l’. in—
graham.

Buffalo Bill’s League; or, {ed Butterfly. lly‘
(‘01. Prentiss ltigruham.
ltuffalo i’lill's Tanglle 'J‘I‘ail; or, Gentlemanl
Jack. the Man of Many Masks. iiy (101. P.
ingrahuin.

Buffalo Bill's Rough Riders; or, Texas .lark's
Shunt-Shooters. Hy Col. Prentiss lngrahani.

Double. L'y Col. Prentiss lngrahztni.

Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged

Three. Uy Col. P. Ingraham.

The Three Bills; Ifuffulo ilill, Vt'ilti Bill and

{and—Box Bill; or, The llruvo in Broadcloth.

By Col. P. Ingraham.

Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Braves; or, The Card

Queen's Lest Ga ne. 153' Col. 1'. lngruhum.

Buffalo Bill’s Road Agent Round-III); or. The

Mysterious Masked Man in Black. By Col.

P. Ingraham.

l-lut‘falo iill’s Death-Charm: or. The Man.

With the Sear. By Col. Prentiss lugralmm. l
i

 

" Fuffalo Hill's Royal F‘hrsh; or, The Pony Ri-

der's Death-Run. By Col. Prentiss Ingra-l

. ham. I

Buffalo Bill‘s Double Dilemma; or, The Great:
Scout‘s Big Three. By (.‘ol. 1’. Ingrziham. l

845 Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or. Texas Jack's

Death Shot. By Col. Prentiss lngrahum. l
The Ranch King Dead-Shot; or. Texas Jack's
Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. i
Buffalo Bill's Boys in Blue: or, The Brimstone
Band's Blotmut. I’!_V' Col. P. Iitgruham. 5
Buffalo Bill’s Sharp-Shooters; or. The Surgeon

Scout to the Rescue. By Col. P. Ingraham. 1

761 liui‘falo iii l’s Mam-vi: or. The Death Valley

<ll"lli|‘:“ Haipli, the (‘<;\\'lm). Unit-f. lty lint}
t'alu liill. {.317
794» lliit‘fuiu lzill'n \‘t'itiiti't 1' Il'l'l‘l'. or, The Martin-vi
Woman of tit” (‘nlnraili t'anyun. iiy tin]. i’.
...l , «ii
ln;;i...i 'm.
liuffaiu Hill’s erlh‘lmi:Itr.'l‘lit-lfikrletwn Sunni.
of tin l'vvl ll'.llll|. lly t‘wl, l’r-‘ntiss lll;‘!‘.’lll:lil).
TM ltit't‘alw liill'v» limit-l, vrl‘. ’l‘hv ’il‘llllr‘ltlll"
llrntherlirml. lly t‘nl. l’wntiss lnt;rah:tnt.
777 litvll'nln Hill's Spy—Sharlowvr; or, The Mas'kwl ,W
Mutt at Grand (ltnjmti. liy t‘nl. l’. lngtaiiani. "'
l‘ui‘t'alo Bill‘s li'tn: ur, (‘tuly to the Rescue.
li)’ l.t‘r1il l.t‘\\'l<. 0,0
“ ul—
Tlifl litllTaln Hill's wa-petalw; or, The “mo-out
at llast t‘lutnee. liy (Ml. l’it-ntiss lttg'rahain. m,”
u...
76.“: llnt‘falo l‘.ill.'.v. him-n; or, Silk ltiltlxin Sam.
lly (ml. Prentiss lngi'ahani. .11.)

78"

307

ll

..

l

Victim No. 1:2. l-Lv (,‘ul. Prentiss: lngraham. 304
57 linfl‘alo lliil's lionlule; or, The DOSpvi‘tltl‘) l)?—
tet-tive. liy t'ol. Prentiss Ingralmni. 043
700 {ut'faln Hill‘s Big Four; or, ('Yustt‘r's SllflllOVV.
lLy (‘01. Prentiss lngruhurn.
713 Buffalo llili’s Flush Hand: 01'. Texas Jack‘s 180
irrivns. Hy (Jul. Prentiss Ingrahain.
731) Buffalo llill's lilinti; or. The Maekwl Driver 177.
of Death's. Canyon. By ('ul. Prentiss ingra-
ham. 163
735 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men: or, The:
ltuliin llootl ltivals. liy (.‘ol. Prentiss lngra-l 158
ham.
731 Hull‘an Bill's Beagles: or, Silk Lasso Sam.[117
’.y (‘01. Prentiss lngruham. ;
7L7 Huff'th liill's iiotly Guard; or, The Still Hunt‘
of the Hills. iy (.‘oi. Prentiss lngraham.
722 Buffalo Bill on the \Var Path: or, Silk Lasso
Sam. the \Vill-o‘-the-Wisp. By Col. P. In-
grtth am .
716 Buffalo Bill’s: Smut Sharlmvors; or. Emer-
ald lid of Devil's Acre. By Col. P. Ingraham. .—..
710 Buffalo lill llal‘llet’i; or, The Deserth Des-
perado's 1)t‘lltlll(‘t‘.. 12y Col. 1’: lngrztham.
Buffalo Bill's Buokskin Brotherlmt‘ul: mat
Opening: Ci) it Lost Trail. My Col. l’. ln-l
graham. .983
691 Buffalo Bill's Rlintl Trail: or, The Dauzhturl
of the Regiment. L‘y (m1. Prentiss Ingraham. “86
682 Buffalo Bill's Secret Service Trail. By Majorl
Dangerfield ilurr. lg‘r
667 Buffalo Bill's Sweep: or, the King of the “
Mines. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
658 The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of TexasiSSS

 

l
l
l

69

‘1

By (‘olonel Prentiss lngrahmn.

)
'I't-xznu lly L'olwnvl Prentiss inqrnluttn.’ l
hull: Taylor. the Silil‘llt‘ ix'imr. linffalo :iii'su
(Jim-t" of Events. lty t'ol. l’. lngraliztni. I.
linfl'nln lill's ilonztttza; or, The Knuth“: "Tl
the Silvrr t'irt'le. |’._\‘ “H1. 1'. lngrulntin. ‘/
The limit] liintrz or, Montelmlltl, the Magnifi—i
Ct'tli. lly lint'l'uln liill.
Buffalo l‘ili's intrinz: lint-c; m: l'lrzrmltntlt
I’lt'k, Kim; of the (.‘mvboyn. ll; [Mon l."i\'l.\‘.
'i‘lu- llt‘jitl Flint Kin-q wi‘, My l'ai'tls of tilt“
l‘l.iitt>. l:_\' 12mm“ liiil. x
tulinlu lfiill'o. lt‘irst Trail: or, “'ill Wml)’. (lll‘\
Pony Express lllllt‘l'. liy Nul l-inz'l-thnu ’
ill? lit‘t‘lzll'll. llll‘ liltll'll‘. [)«‘lt‘t‘ii\-" «li‘. Til."
(initl lln Alll'tlS u.‘ (“til rilllltl. Uy lilit'fulo lltll.
’l'lw t'mwrr.\rmwl l‘: .1 m. l'iwl Retribution in
turtlt'l'luiitl. r...- lztta‘nio Hill.
The \\'17,:.rtl lll‘nlltt‘l's; or, \\'li|te l:(‘{l\'t‘Z"H
'l‘rail. l;\‘ litttfaio iiill.
\\'ltit« l:4“l\'<‘l‘,_ll!1' l'inlt- of the Platte; or.
.\ \\'rnn;zt~tl Man‘s. Itwl Trail. lly liuii'alo
liill. ‘ .
lluffalo llill's (lrip; or, Ozttlt-lmuntl to (‘ustetn
lly (:tll. Prentiss ingrahani.
iiufl‘aln itill‘s l’lmlgw; m“. The Leaguv of
'llhree. liy (‘ni. i‘. ingraham.
Wild Hill. the \t'ltii‘lwintl of the \\'est. 1
Buffalo llill.
Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler: or, h
QUeen of the '\\"ilt‘l Riders. liy Buffalo Bill.
The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The gt’illllt‘r'S Sweet-
heart. My Buffalo liill. Government Scout
and Guide.
Willi liill‘q Gold Trail; or. The Desperate
L)u7.t’n. 5y Col. l’. Ingrahum.
“'ilvl lill's Trump Part]; or. The Indian
Heiress. lly Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
“'ild Bill, the Pistol Dent] Shot; or. Dagger
lion's Double. ily Col. Prentiss Ingrahuni.
Buffalo ltill, (‘hief of Shouts; or, The Doomed
Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell.
iuft‘alo Hill‘s Strange Parr]; 0r, Dashing
Dandy. the Hotspur of the Hills. By Major
D. Burr.
Buffalo Elli, the Buckskin' King:. or. The
Amazon of the West. liy Major Dangerfield
llurr. _
Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the
Overland. By Buffalo Bill.
Dnnth Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; cr, Life
zggnd Love in a. Frontier Fort. 15y Buffalo
ill.

 

 

 

were \x“

  

'3:

v

NE‘V ISSUES TO COME.
The Long-Haired I’ards; or. The Tartars of
the Plains. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
Iron W’rist, the Swordmaster. By Col. Thos.
l-oner Monastery. \
Shadrach, the Sport Detective; or, The Secret
Seven. By John \V. Osbon.

Rocky Mountain Rob. the California Outlaw.
by Albert W‘. Aiken. -

 

 

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