Fighting the Whales

  Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

  FIGHTING THE WHALES, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.

  CHAPTER ONE.

  IN TROUBLE, TO BEGIN WITH.

  There are few things in this world that have filled me with so muchastonishment as the fact that man can kill a whale! That a fish, morethan sixty feet long, and thirty feet round the body; with the bulk ofthree hundred fat oxen rolled into one; with the strength of manyhundreds of horses; able to swim at a rate that would carry it rightround the world in twenty-three days; that can smash a boat to atomswith one slap of its tail, and stave in the planks of a ship with oneblow of its thick skull;--that such a monster can be caught and killedby man, is most wonderful to hear of, but I can tell from experiencethat it is much more wonderful to see.

  There is a wise saying which I have often thought much upon. It isthis: "Knowledge is power." Man is but a feeble creature, and if he hadto depend on his own bodily strength alone, he could make no headagainst even the ordinary brutes in this world. But the knowledge whichhas been given to him by his Maker has clothed man with great power, sothat he is more than a match for the fiercest beast in the forest, orthe largest fish in the sea. Yet, with all his knowledge, with all hisexperience, and all his power, the killing of a great old sperm whalecosts man a long, tough battle, sometimes it even costs him his life.

  It is a long time now since I took to fighting the whales. I have beenat it, man and boy, for nigh forty years, and many a wonderful sighthave I seen; many a desperate battle have I fought in the fisheries ofthe North and South Seas.

  Sometimes, when I sit in the chimney-corner of a winter evening, smokingmy pipe with my old messmate Tom Lokins, I stare into the fire, andthink of the days gone by, till I forget where I am, and go on thinkingso hard that the flames seem to turn into melting fires, and the bars ofthe grate into dead fish, and the smoke into sails and rigging, and I goto work cutting up the blubber and stirring the oil-pots, or pulling thebow-oar and driving the harpoon at such a rate that I can't help givinga shout, which causes Tom to start and cry:--

  "Hallo! Bob," (my name is Bob Ledbury, you see). "Hallo! Bob, wot'sthe matter?"

  To which I reply, "Tom, can it all be true?"

  "Can _wot_ be true?" says he, with a stare of surprise--for Tom isgetting into his dotage now.

  And then I chuckle and tell him I was only thinking of old times, and sohe falls to smoking again, and I to staring at the fire, and thinking ashard as ever.

  The way in which I was first led to go after the whales was curious.This is how it happened.

  About forty years ago, when I was a boy of nearly fifteen years of age,I lived with my mother in one of the seaport towns of England. Therewas great distress in the town at that time, and many of the hands wereout of work. My employer, a blacksmith, had just died, and for morethan six weeks I had not been able to get employment or to earn afarthing. This caused me great distress, for my father had died withoutleaving a penny in the world, and my mother depended on me entirely.The money I had saved out of my wages was soon spent, and one morningwhen I sat down to breakfast, my mother looked across the table andsaid, in a thoughtful voice--

  "Robert, dear, this meal has cost us our last halfpenny."

  My mother was old and frail, and her voice very gentle; she was the mosttrustful, uncomplaining woman I ever knew.

  I looked up quickly into her face as she spoke. "All the money gone,mother?"

  "Ay, all. It will be hard for you to go without your dinner, Robert,dear."

  "It will be harder for you, mother," I cried, striking the table with myfist; then a lump rose in my throat and almost choked me. I could notutter another word.

  It was with difficulty I managed to eat the little food that was beforeme. After breakfast I rose hastily and rushed out of the house,determined that I would get my mother her dinner, even if I should haveto beg for it. But I must confess that a sick feeling came over me whenI thought of begging.

  Hurrying along the crowded streets without knowing very well what Imeant to do, I at last came to an abrupt halt at the end of the pier.Here I went up to several people and offered my services in a wild sortof way. They must have thought that I was drunk, for nearly all of themsaid gruffly that they did not want me.

  Dinner time drew near, but no one had given me a job, and no wonder, forthe way in which I tried to get one was not likely to be successful. Atlast I resolved to beg. Observing a fat, red-faced old gentleman comingalong the pier, I made up to him boldly. He carried a cane with a largegold knob on the top of it. That gave me hope, "for of course," thoughtI, "he must be rich." His nose, which was exactly the colour and shapeof the gold knob on his cane, was stuck in the centre of a round,good-natured countenance, the mouth of which was large and firm; theeyes bright and blue. He frowned as I went forward hat in hand; but Iwas not to be driven back; the thought of my starving mother gave mepower to crush down my rising shame. Yet I had no reason to be ashamed.I was willing to work, if only I could have got employment.

  Stopping in front of the old gentleman, I was about to speak when Iobserved him quietly button up his breeches pocket. The blood rushed tomy face, and, turning quickly on my heel, I walked away without utteringa word.

  "Hallo!" shouted a gruff voice just as I was moving away.

  I turned and observed that the shout was uttered by a broadrough-looking jack-tar, a man of about two or three and thirty, who hadbeen sitting all the forenoon on an old cask smoking his pipe andbasking in the sun.

  "Hallo!" said he again.

  "Well," said I.

  "Wot d'ye mean, youngster, by goin' on in that there fashion all themornin', a-botherin' everybody, and makin' a fool o' yourself like that?eh!"

  "What's that to you?" said I savagely, for my heart was sore and heavy,and I could not stand the interference of a stranger.

  "Oh! it's nothin' to me of course," said the sailor, picking his pipequietly with his clasp-knife; "but come here, boy, I've somethin' to sayto ye."

  "Well, what is it?" said I, going up to him somewhat sulkily.

  The man looked at me gravely through the smoke of his pipe, and said,"You're in a passion, my young buck, that's all; and, in case you didn'tknow it, I thought I'd tell ye."

  I burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, I believe you're not far wrong,but I'm better now."

  "Ah, that's right," said the sailor, with an approving nod of his head,"always confess when you're in the wrong. Now, younker, let me give youa bit of advice. Never get into a passion if you can help it, and ifyou can't help it get out of it as fast as possible, and if you can'tget out of it, just give a great roar to let off the steam and turnabout and run. There's nothing like that. Passion han't got legs. Itcan't hold on to a feller when he's runnin'. If you keep it up till youa'most split your timbers, passion has no chance. It _must_ go a-starn.Now, lad, I've been watchin' ye all the mornin', and I see there's ascrew loose somewhere. If you'll tell me wot it is, see if I don't helpyou!"

  The kind frank way in which this was said quite won my heart, so I satdown on the old cask, and told the sailor all my sorrows.

  "Boy," said he, when I had finished, "I'll put you in the way o' helpin'your mother. I can get you a berth in my ship, if you're willin' totake a trip to the whale-fishery of the South Seas."

  "And who will look after my mother when I'm away?" said I.

  The sailor looked perplexed at the question.

  "Ah, that's a puzzler," he replied, knocking the ashes out of his pipe."Will you take me to your mother's house, lad?"

  "Willingly," said I, and, jumping up, I led the way. As we turned togo, I observed that the old gentleman with the gold-headed cane wasleaning over the rail of the pier at a short distance from us. Afeeling of anger instantly rose within me, and I exclaimed, loud enoughfor him to hear--

  "I do believe that stingy old chap has been listening to every wordwe've been saying!"

  I thought I observed a frown on the sailor's brow as I said this, but hemade no remark, and in a few minutes we were walking rapidly through thestreets. My companion stopped at one of those stores so common inseaport towns, where one can buy almost anything, from a tallow candleto a brass cannon. Here he purchased a pound of tea, a pound of sugar,a pound of butter, and a small loaf,--all of which he thrust into thehuge pockets of his coat. He had evidently no idea of proportion or ofhousehold affairs. It was a simple, easy way of settling the matter, toget a pound of everything.

  In a short time we reached our house, a very old one, in a poorneighbourhood, and entered my mother's room. She was sitting at thetable when we went in, with a large Bible before her, and a pair ofhorn-spectacles on her nose. I could see that she had been outgathering coals and cinders during my absence, for a good fire burned inthe grate, and the kettle was singing cheerily thereon.

  "I've brought a friend to see you, mother," said I.

  "Good-day, mistress," said the sailor bluntly, sitting down on a stoolnear the fire. "You seem to be goin' to have your tea."

  "I expect to have it soon," replied my mother.

  "Indeed!" said I, in surprise. "Have you anything in the kettle?"

  "Nothing but water, my son."

  "Has anybody brought you anything, then, since I went out?"

  "Nobody."

  "Why, then, mistress," broke in the seaman, "how can you expect to haveyour tea so soon?"

  My mother took off her spectacles, looked calmly in the man's face, laidher hand on the Bible, and said, "Because I hav
e been a widow womanthese three years, and never once in all that time have I gone a singleday without a meal. When the usual hour came I put on my kettle toboil, for this Word tells me that `the Lord will provide.' I _expect_my tea to-night."

  The sailor's face expressed puzzled astonishment at these words, and hecontinued to regard my mother with a look of wonder as he drew forth hissupplies of food, and laid them on the table.

  In a short time we were all enjoying a cup of tea, and talking about thewhale-fishery, and the difficulty of my going away while my mother wasdependent on me. At last the sailor rose to leave us. Taking afive-pound note from his pocket, he laid it on the table and said--

  "Mistress, this is all I have in the world, but I've got neither familynor friends, and I'm bound for the South Seas in six days; so, if you'lltake it, you're welcome to it, and if your son Bob can manage to castloose from you without leaving you to sink, I'll take him aboard theship that I sail in. He'll always find me at the Bull and Griffin, inthe High Street, or at the end o' the pier."

  While the sailor was speaking, I observed a figure standing in a darkcorner of the room near the door, and, on looking more closely, I foundthat it was the old gentleman with the nose like his cane-knob. Seeingthat he was observed, he came forward and said--

  "I trust that you will forgive my coming here without invitation; but Ihappened to overhear part of the conversation between your son and thisseaman, and I am willing to help you over your little difficulty, if youwill allow me."

  The old gentleman said this in a very quick, abrupt way, and looked asif he were afraid his offer might be refused. He was much heated, withclimbing our long stair no doubt, and as he stood in the middle of theroom, puffing and wiping his bald head with a handkerchief, my motherrose hastily and offered him a chair.

  "You are very kind, sir," she said; "do sit down, sir. I'm sure I don'tknow why you should take so much trouble. But, dear me, you are verywarm; will you take a cup of tea to cool you?"

  "Thank you, thank you. With much pleasure, unless, indeed, your sonobjects to a `_stingy old chap_' sitting beside him."

  I blushed when he repeated my words, and attempted to make some apology;but the old gentleman stopped me by commencing to explain his intentionsin short, rapid sentences.

  To make a long story short, he offered to look after my mother while Iwas away, and, to prove his sincerity, laid down five shillings, andsaid he would call with that sum every week as long as I was absent. Mymother, after some trouble, agreed to let me go, and, before thatevening closed, everything was arranged, and the gentleman, leaving hisaddress, went away.

  The sailor had been so much filled with surprise at the suddenness ofall this, that he could scarcely speak. Immediately after the departureof the old gentleman, he said, "Well, good-bye, mistress, good-bye,Bob," and throwing on his hat in a careless way, left the room.

  "Stop," I shouted after him, when he had got about half-way down stair.

  "Hallo! wot's wrong now?"

  "Nothing, I only forgot to ask your name."

  "Tom Lokins," he bellowed, in the hoarse voice of a regular boatswain,"w'ich wos my father's name before me."

  So saying, he departed, whistling "Rule Britannia" with all his might.

  Thus the matter was settled. Six days afterwards, I rigged myself outin a blue jacket, white ducks, and a straw hat, and went to sea.