CHAPTER III.

A “STOVE” BOAT.

The Montpelier’s boats, at the moment when Stump succeeded in hoisting the recall signal, were lying motionless in an open space of water, situated near the center of the floe to which we have already alluded. This little lake, of which the surrounding bergs and compact squares of ice formed the shores, was of sufficient size to contain all the boats, and the captain and his mates had expressed much satisfaction because the position afforded them every facility to maneuver their light vessels in case of the appearance of whales in their vicinity. Upright, in the stern-sheets, with his steering oar under his arm, stood each officer, throwing keen glances around him, in every direction, and now and then addressing an angry word to some awkward booby among his crew, who, by moving an arm or a leg, caused his paddle to strike against his thwart. Nor were the mates the only watchers, for the young harpooners, conspicuous among whom towered the tall, neatly-dressed figure of Harry Marline, were equally on the alert, piercing the many long, glittering galleries, winding passages, fantastic arches, and caverns among the ice, with their penetrating and practiced glances; while, seated close to the gunwales of their boats--each man with his paddle ready for use--the swarthy crews directed their indolent glances toward the reflection of their own faces in the still surface of the water, or watched the countless numbers of seals that stared upon them with timid eyes from the polished floors of their floating halls.

One of the sailors threw a glance toward the bay where the ship was anchored, and which was so far off that only the three masts of the vessel could be distinguished, and these but faintly, on account of the gray background beyond. But the red signal, flying at the main-truck, did not escape the keen eyes of the spectator, and he at once called the attention of the officer of his boat--Mr. Briggs--to this circumstance.

“Ay, ay, blast you!” replied the irritable Briggs; “you are always fancying that you see the recall signal. If it was a whale, now, I’ll wager my pipe that you wouldn’t see it, even though the creature spouted right under your nose! You’ve a strong imagination, Bates, for signals, even when there ain’t any to be seen!”

“You can see it, sir, by turning your head. I am sure I wasn’t deceived!”

“I wouldn’t believe you, though you took your oath upon a stack of Bibles as high as the fore-truck. So, just keep your eyes the other way, and don’t let me catch you lookin’ after signals again!”

As the man resumed his former position, however, the mate, after having leisurely filled his pipe, and placed it in his mouth, turned and looked toward the bay.

Unfortunately, this happened a second after Driko had pulled down the red bunting, and dropped it to the deck. As a natural consequence, Mr. Briggs, after having carefully surveyed the three naked royal masts, came to the conclusion that Bates’ imagination had deceived him.

“You thick-skinned lubber!” he muttered, in a low voice, seizing a paddle, and lifting it, with the intention of breaking it across his informer’s skull; “you empty-pated greenhorn, this isn’t the first time that--”

“There blows! blows!--there blows! A whale right ahead, sir, and two more to windward!” interrupted Harry Marline, addressing the mate, in a shrill, penetrating whisper.

Quickly, but noiselessly, replacing the paddle in the bottom of the boat, the first officer, with his teeth set, and his eyes glaring, seized his steering-oar firmly, and hissed out his orders to the crew.

“Paddle ahead--every mother’s son of you! Spring! spring! my lads--softly, but heartily--spring! It’s a bull!”

The men obeyed, and, shooting into a narrow passage, about a hundred yards from the mouth of which the first whale, a huge bowhead, was leisurely rolling and spouting, unconscious of the near vicinity of enemies, the mate’s boat darted swiftly, and almost noiselessly, upon its course, followed by the other three boats. The officers of the latter, how ever, soon became aware that it would be necessary for them to turn their attention to the whales to windward, for the channel was too narrow to enable them to pass the mate’s boat, which, on that account, would certainly be the first to reach the monster ahead of it.

But, as the harsh grating of the cedar planks against the compact masses of ice, among which the rear boats must be directed when their course should be changed, would certainly “gally” (frighten) the leviathan in the passage, the captain made a sign to the second and third officers to stop the exertions of their men for the present.

This silent mandate was obeyed, and the three boats soon became nearly motionless, their officers and crews watching the progress of the mate with breathless interest.

He was nearing the whale with great rapidity, and the huge animal, as it rolled leisurely along, with its great barnacled hump rising and dripping in the cool element, still seemed unconscious of the vicinity of foes.

“Stand up, Harry!” whispered Briggs, when the boat was within seven fathoms of the intended prey; and quickly, but noiselessly, springing to his feet, the young harpooner seized his iron, and stood prepared.

The mate now pointed the bow of the boat directly toward the hump of the monster, and then, in a scarcely audible whisper, ordered his men to stop pulling, and take their places upon their thwarts.

This command was readily obeyed, but the light boat still continued to glide on under the impetus which it had received, and, in a few moments, it was within four fathoms of the leviathan.

“Now then--give it to him!” thundered Briggs.

The barbed weapon flew whistling from the hands of the stout-armed harpooner, with a force that buried it to the socket in the whale’s hump. The second iron immediately followed.

“Starn! starn all!” roared the mate, as the startled giant of the deep, writhing with pain, threw his tremendous body toward the boat. “Starn, you beef-eating rascals--_starn_!”

But the oar-blades, striking against the ice, greatly impeded the motions of the men, and the boat was not yet quite out of the monster’s reach, when, lifting his tremendous flukes, he brought them down sideways with a force which would have shivered the forward part of the little craft to atoms had not the watchful Briggs, by a dexterous movement of his steering-oar, caused the bow to swing off to the right.

The little craft, however, did not wholly escape injury, for it received a light tap from the edge of the creature’s flukes, which caused the cedar planks to crack in more than one place, and dislodged the bow oarsman from his thwart.

The man was not injured, and he resumed his place, just as the whale disappeared in the green depths of the sea.

Away went the boat with the speed of a whirlwind, the line smoking as it ran around the loggerhead, and the tub oarsman pouring water upon it to prevent it from burning.

The harpooner and the mate now changed places, the latter individual taking his station in the bow, after Marline had relieved him in the stern-sheets. Each of the two men found it difficult to maintain his position, for the whale had, this time, “milled” (turned under water), and was now dragging the light boat through heavy fragments of ice, that caused it to sway from side to side with that quick, jerking motion which only a well-balanced body can resist.

The constant jamming of the boat against the rough edges of the floating bergs, through which it was forced onward like a wedge, seamed it with many cracks; but, as the bottom had not yet been injured, the water did not enter with sufficient rapidity to overpower the efforts of the man who was “bailing out.”

“Look out there! look to your oars!” shouted Briggs, as the flying vessel approached the entrance to one of those floating tunnels that form one of the many icy curiosities of the northern seas. It was about twenty feet in length, and the passage was so narrow--the roof so low--that the mate, as they continued to approach it, placed his hand upon the knife in the bow, feeling half conscious that it was his duty to sever the line and loose the whale, rather than to risk the lives of himself and his crew by attempting the dangerous channel; for when he should have entered it, the slightest deviation of the boat from its direct course, would result in its destruction.

He threw a glance behind him, to see whether, in case such an event should take place, his fellow-officers would be near enough to witness it and to come to the rescue in time; but his surprise may well be imagined, when he discovered that the three vessels he had left astern were no longer visible, on account of one of those sudden fogs so common in that region, and which now covered the whole surface of the ice behind him, and also the open stretch of blue water beyond.

“Well!” he exclaimed, turning to Marline, “here’s a dirty fog coming upon us, without a moment’s warning!”

“There were signs of it before we struck the whale--in fact, when we first lowered!” replied the harpooner. “I saw it gathering in the nor’west, and a breeze has sprung up since then and hurried it along.”

“Ay, ay, I don’t doubt it,” answered Briggs. “But there’s no time to lose in chattering about it. What d’ye say, men,” he added, addressing the crew; “shall we cut, or hold on and try the tunnel? I am willing to try it for one.”

“So am I!” cried Bates, and the rest of the men expressing themselves in a similar manner, the mate breathed a sigh of relief, for he now felt as though a load had been lifted from his conscience.

By this time the boat was within a few feet of the tunnel, and the men placed their oars lengthwise across the thwarts, so that they might not come in contact with the sides of the narrow passage, and bowed their heads to prevent them from striking against the low, jagged roof of ice.

With unabated speed the light vessel flew on, and presently it darted, with the swiftness of a discharged arrow, into the mouth of the archway.

The crew fairly held their breath with anxiety, and kept their eyes upon the pointed bow of the little craft, which was now in a straight line with the opening at the further ends, but which, at any moment, was liable to swerve either to the right or the left. In fact, before the boat had reached the center of the passage, there was a loud, swashing noise, as the larboard gunwale heeled over, until it was almost level with the water, while the bows dipped and swayed with that uncertain motion which almost invariably serves as a warning to the crew of a fast boat, that the whole is about to change its course.

“Trim boat! trim boat, every man!” hissed the mate, through his closely compressed teeth, “and stand by, Marline, to do what you can to keep the bows from swinging.”

“Ay, ay, sir, but that won’t be much,” responded the harpooner, “for there’s little room in this narrow channel to work a steering-oar.”

Scarcely had the speaker concluded, when Briggs, whose watchful eye had noted every motion of the little craft, perceived that the boat’s head was about to swing to the right and strike against the side of the passage; and seizing a knife, he quickly severed the running line, thus freeing the vessel from the whale but not in time to prevent the bow, under the impetus it had already received, from being dashed with considerable force against the icy wall.

The result of the concussion was the cracking of the light cedar planks near the bottom of the boat; and the water now entered the craft with such rapidity, that the exertions of three men were required to prevent the vessel from filling.

The rest of the crew were ordered to “take their paddles,” and as they worked vigorously, the boat was soon clear of the dangerous channel.

By this time, however, the fog had become so dense that the after oarsman could scarcely distinguish the person of the harpooner, who had just exchanged places with the mate, so that he now occupied his proper position in the bow.

The loss of the whale had increased the ill-humor of Briggs, and he proceeded to bemoan his “bad luck,” as he called it, in true sailor terms. Stamping upon his cap, several times, he wound up by stating that he wished all ice-tunnels were sent to the pit to be melted in brimstone.

This rude witticism was received with a shout of laughter by Tom Plaush, the little Portuguese, who pulled the tub oar, and who was always ready to show his appreciation of all jokes--however stale--that fell from the lips of any of the officers. The laugh had a good effect upon Briggs, who, believing that he had said something brilliant, assumed a waggish air, and glided at once into a pleasant humor.

The good-humor of the mate, however, was not destined to continue for a long time; for like a rusty wheel which has been set in motion by the application of oil to certain parts of it, but which stops and gets in bad condition again the moment it meets with an obstruction--so when at length the boat became jammed between heavy fragments of ice that rendered it impossible for the crew to use their oars with success, the irritability of Briggs again made itself manifest. Rough contact with the floating bergs, through which the light craft had been forced, after it passed out of the tunnel, had so widened the cracks in the thin planks, that the water entered with a rapidity that, taxed to the utmost the energies of those engaged in bailing. The mate sprung upon one of the blocks of ice by which they were surrounded, and ordered every man with the exception of Marline to imitate his example.

“I want a man I can depend upon to take charge of the boat,” he said, addressing the young harpooner, “while I go with the crew to search for our shipmates and inform ’em of our condition!”

“Wouldn’t it be better, sir,” suggested Marline, “for all of us to stay here, and wait for the other boats? If we blow the boat-horn I have no doubt that they will soon reach us.”

“Ay, ay,” growled the mate, impatiently, “and do you suppose that I would be contented to stay here in this plight, waiting for the boats? Not a bit of it, young man. I am now in a hurry to get aboard ship, for that cutting from the whale has spoilt all _my_ fun.”

“If you will take my advice, you’ll not go far, in search of the other boats,” said Marline, “for I think it hardly possible that you will find them, in this fog.”

“And I think exactly the other way,” retorted the mate, impatiently. “All a man has to do to find ’em is to follow his own nose to the north’ard, as I take it; for we’ve been going south, and the other boats must be somewhere astern of us--not far off either.”

At this moment the sound of a horn was heard, apparently proceeding from the direction in which the mate had stated that his fellow-officers might be found; and he now turned his eyes triumphantly toward the harpooner.

“Ay, ay--d’ye see, young man--it’s just as I said. Them boats are astarn of us, though further off than I thought they were. But by moving quickly over the ice, we’ll soon reach ’em. Come on, men--there’s no time to lose,” he added, turning to the crew.

Leaping from berg to berg, the five men followed closely upon the footsteps of their leader, and in a few seconds they were all shrouded from the view of the harpooner by the dense fog.

“It’s a wild-goose chase,” muttered Marline, as he proceeded to bail out the boat, “and nobody except a man of Briggs’ restless and impatient nature would have thought of undertaking it until he had first sounded the horn, and that had failed to bring our shipmates to us.”

As minute after minute passed away, and neither the party nor the boats made their appearance, the young man became more confirmed than ever in his opinion, that Briggs’ expedition was a useless undertaking. He even began to fear that the mate and his men had lost themselves among the floating galleries and caverns of ice, and were, therefore, neither able to advance in the right direction nor to return.

Once or twice, since the departure of his shipmates, he had heard the sound of a horn, but the notes of the instrument were so faint that he believed the boats were receding from, instead of approaching, the spot he occupied.

While his mind was still busy with conjectures and fears, he suddenly started to his feet, listening with eager attention, for he fancied he heard a rushing noise ahead of him like that of some heavy object forging slowly through the ice. The noise became louder every moment, and presently the ears of the young man were saluted with the creaking of ropes, the dull flapping of canvas, and the murmur of voices. An instant afterward the broad black bows and the square foresail of a ship loomed up indistinctly through the fog, a few fathoms ahead of the boat, which lay directly in the track of the vessel.

“Ship ahoy!” thundered Marline. “Up helm, and keep off, or you will run me down!”

He was evidently heard by those on board, for a dark face was suddenly thrust over the bulwarks forward, but its owner, instead of directing the man at the wheel to “keep off,” ordered him to “luff.”

The head of the advancing ship, as she came booming on, was therefore within a few feet of the boat before it could obey the helm, the consequence of which was that the bows of the little craft received a thump from the vessel as she swung to windward, that caused a few of the thin planks to give way like the shell of an egg beneath the blow of a man’s fist.

The boat filled rapidly, and as it sunk the young harpooner leaped upon one of the blocks of ice by which he was surrounded, in time to seize a rope, which was thrown to him by Tom Lark, as the ship came up into the wind with her main topsails aback.

“The Montpelier!” shouted Marline--“the Montpelier, by all that’s good!”

“Ay, ay,” gruffly responded Lark, “and the less said about it the better!”

The speaker was a tall man, of herculean frame, and with one of those swarthy, hang-dog faces, that never fail to inspire the beholder with feelings of distrust. He wore gray pants, a fez cap of blue cloth, and a black woolen shirt, the latter of which, being open at the throat, disclosed the sinewy muscles of an enormous neck.

“What is the ship doing here?” pursued Harry. “We left her anchored in the bay. And how came you at liberty? Where is Stump? and Alice How--”

“One question at a time, youngster,” interrupted Lark, with a broad grin. “You’ll know every thing presently, and--”

“There’s villainy at work here, Tom Lark--ay, downright villainy!” cried the harpooner, as a suspicion of the truth flashed upon his mind.

Grasping the lower part of the main chains, and drawing himself to the rail, he sprung upon the deck, to be confronted by the mutineer, who drew from one of the pockets of his Guernsey a heavy pistol, which he pointed at the head of the youth.

“You’ve got yourself into a hornet’s nest, youngster. It might have been better for you if you had stuck to the ice!”

“Ay, ay,” said Marline, with perfect coolness, as he fixed his clear, unwavering eye upon the face of the giant. “You have the advantage of me, at present, and can murder me if you wish, but you will swing for it in the end.”

“Thank you, for your good advice,” gruffly responded the other, “but, I have no intention of murdering you--leastways, not just now--unless you try to kick against what you can’t help. I’m just using this iron to keep you quiet, while the steward goes after the handcuffs!”

“And by what authority,” angrily demanded the young man, “do you thus--”

“Tut! tut!” growled the mutineer, “none of your polly-wow with me, lad. You know how things are as well as I do. I generally do what I please in my own ship.”

“And dare you pretend that this vessel--”

“Is mine? Certainly,” interrupted Lark. “She’s mine by the law of equal rights. Captain Howard had her for awhile. Now, it’s my turn. I’ve been confined in the run a long time, and need a little fresh air, besides the satisfaction of putting some of the captain’s friends in my place. As you are the first of these that I’ve met with, you shall have the honor of filling that position. I rebelled against Captain Howard’s authority--you rebel against mine. Captain Howard puts _me_ in the run--Captain Lark puts _you_ in the run. That’s what I call equal rights!”