Authors: James Fenimore Cooper
An uninterested observer would have laughed, at seeing the employment
of the quarter-deck, for the next four hours. Marble, and the two
mates, attacked a barrel belonging to the captain, while Neb and I had
my own share to ourselves. It was a trying occupation, the odour far
exceeding in strength that of the Spice Islands. We stood it,
however—for what will not man endure for the sake of riches? Marble
foresaw the difficulties, and had once announced to the mates that
they then would "open on shares." This had a solacing influence, and
amid much mirth and sundry grimaces, the work went on with tolerable
rapidity. I observed, however, that Talcott threw one or two subjects,
that doubtless were tougher than common, overboard, after very
superficial examinations.
The first seven oysters I examined, contained nothing but seed pearl,
and not many of these. Neb opened, and I examined; and the latter
occupation was so little to my taste, that I was just on the point of
ordering the whole lot thrown overboard, when Neb handed me
another. This oyster contained nine beautiful pearls, of very uniform
dimensions, and each about as large as a good-sized pea. I dropped
them into a bowl of fresh water, whence they came out sweet, pearly,
and lustrous. They were of the sort known as the "white water," which
is the kind most prized among Christian nations, doubtless on account
of their harmonizing so well with the skins of their women. No sooner
was my luck known, than it brought all the other "pearl fishermen"
around me; Marble, with his nostrils plugged with oakum, and a quid of
tobacco in his mouth, that was as large as a small potatoe.
"By George, Miles, that looks like business," the captain exclaimed,
going back to his work, with renovated zeal, "though it is a calling
fit only for hogs and scavengers! Did I embark in it largely, I would
keep as many clerks as a bank. What do you suppose now, these nine
chaps may be worth?"
"Some fifty dollars, or thereabouts—you see, sir, they are quite
large—much larger than it is usual to see our women wear."
The ninth of my oysters produced eleven pearls, and all about the size
and quality of the first. In a few minutes I had seventy-three just
such pearls, besides a quantity of seed pearl. Then followed a
succession of barren shells; a dozen not giving a pearl. The three
that succeeded them gave thirty-one more; and another yielded four
pearls, each of which was as large as a small cherry. After that, I
got one that was almost as large as a common hickory-nut, and six more
of the size of the cherry-sized pearls. In addition to these, I got in
all, one hundred and eighty-seven of the size of peas, besides a large
handful of the seed pearl. I afterwards ascertained, that the pearls I
had thus obtained were worth in the market about eighteen hundred
dollars; as they were far more remarkable for their beauty, than for
their size.
Notwithstanding the oakum plugs, and the tobacco, and the great
quantity of shells his divers had found, for they had brought up
something like two hundred and fifty oysters in the course of the day,
the party of the captain found in all, but thirty-six pearls, the seed
excepted; though they obtained some beautiful specimens among the
shells. From that moment, Marble discontinued the trade, and I never
heard him say anything more on the subject of pursuing it. My own
beauties were put carefully away, in reserve for the time when I might
delight the eyes of certain of my female friends with them. I never
intended to sell one, but they were very precious to me on other
accounts. As for the crew, glad enough were they to be rid of such
uncomfortable shipmates. As I gazed on the spotless and lustrous
pearls, and compared them with the revolting tenements from which they
had just been redeemed, I likened them to the souls of the just
escaping from their tenements of clay, to enjoy hereafter an endless
existence of purity.
In the meantime, the Pretty Poll continued to find her way along miles
and miles of the deserted track across the Pacific. Marble had once
belonged to a Baltimore clipper, and he sailed our craft probably much
better than she would have been sailed by Mons. Le Compte, though that
officer, as I afterwards learned, had distinguished himself in command
of a lugger-privateer, in the British Channel. Our progress was
generally from a hundred and fifty to two hundred and twenty miles in
twenty-four hours; and so it continued to be for the first ten days,
or the period, when, according to our own calculations, we ought to be
near the Crisis, had that vessel steered a course resembling our
own. For my own part, I neither wished nor expected to see the ship,
until we reached the coast of South America, when we might ascertain
her position by communicating with the shore. As for the
guarda-costas
, I knew we could easily elude them, and there
might be a small chance of regaining the vessel, something like the
way in which we had lost her. But Marble's impatience, and the
keenness with which he felt our disgrace, would not make terms even
with the elements; and I do believe, he would have run alongside of
the Crisis in a gale of wind, could he have come up with her. The
chance of our having sailed so far, however, on a line so nearly
resembling that of the chase as to bring us together, was so very
small, that few of us thought it worth our consideration.
On the morning of the eleventh day, the look-out we had kept on the
fore-top-sail-yard, sang out "Sail-ho!" Marble and myself were soon on
the yard, there being nothing visible from the deck. The upper sails,
top-gallant-sails, and royals of a ship were visible on our
weather-quarter, distant from fifteen to twenty miles. As we were now
in the track of whalers, of which there were a good many in that part
of the Pacific, I thought it was probable this was one; but Marble
laughed at the notion, asking if I had ever heard of a whaler's
carrying royals on her cruising ground. He affirmed it was the
Crisis, heading the same way we were ourselves, and which had only got
to windward of us, by keeping a better luff. We had calculated too
much on the schooner's weatherly qualities, and had allowed her to
fall off more than was necessary, in the night-watches.
The Pretty Poll was now jammed up on a wind, in the hope of closing
with the chase in the course of the night. But the wind had been
growing lighter and lighter for some hours, and by noon, though we had
neared the chase so much as to be able to see her from deck, there was
every prospect of its falling calm; after which, in the trades, it
would be surprising if we did not get a blow. To make the most of our
time, Marble determined to tack, when we had just got the chase a
point off our weather-bow. An hour after tacking, an object was seen
adrift on the ocean, and keeping away a little to close with it, it
was ascertained to be a whale-boat, adrift. The boat was American
built, had a breaker of water, the oars, and all the usual fittings in
it; and the painter being loose, it had probably been lost, when
towing in the night, in consequence of having been fastened by
three
half-hitches.
The moment Marble ascertained the condition of this boat, he conceived
his plan of operations. The four Sandwich Islanders had been in
whalers, and he ordered them into the boat, put in some rum, and some
food, gave me his orders, got in himself, and pulled ahead, going off
at five knots the hour, leaving the schooner to follow at the rate of
two. This was about an hour before sunset; and by the time it was
dark, the boat had become a mere speck on the water, nearly half-way
between us and the ship, which was now some fifteen miles distant,
heading always in the same direction.
My orders had been very simple. They were, to stand on the same
course, until I saw a light from the boat, and then tack, so as to run
on a parallel line with the ship. The signal was made by Marble about
nine o'clock. It was immediately answered from the schooner. The light
in the boat was concealed from the ship, and our own was shown only
for a few seconds, the disappearance of Mr. Marble's telling us in
that brief space, that our answer was noted. I tacked immediately;
and, taking in the fore-sail, stood on the directed course. We had all
foreseen a change in the weather, and probably a thunder-squall. So
far from its giving Marble any uneasiness, he anticipated the blow
with pleasure, as he intended to lay the Crisis aboard in its
height. He fancied that success would then be the most certain. His
whole concern was at not being able to find the ship in the darkness;
and it was to obviate this difficulty that he undertook to pilot us up
to her in the manner I have just mentioned.
After getting round, a sharp look-out was kept for the light. We
caught another view of it, directly on our weather-beam. From this we
inferred that the ship had more wind than we felt; inasmuch as she had
materially altered her position, while we had not moved a mile since
we tacked. This was on the supposition that Marble would endeavour to
follow the movements of the ship. At ten, the tempest broke upon us
with tropical violence, and with a suddenness that took everybody by
surprise. A squall had been expected; but no one anticipated its
approach for several hours; and we had all looked for the return of
the whale-boat, ere that moment should come. But, come it did, when
least expected; the first puff throwing our little schooner down, in a
way to convince us the elements were in earnest. In fifteen minutes
after the first blast was felt, I had the schooner, under a reefed
foresail, and with that short canvass, there were instants, as she
struggled up to the summit of the waves, that it seemed as if she were
about to fly out of the water. My great concern, however, was for the
boat, of which nothing could now be seen. The orders left by Marble
anticipated no such occurrence as this tempest, and the concert
between us was interrupted. It was naturally inferred among us, in the
schooner, that the boat would endeavour to close, as soon as the
danger was foreseen; and, as this would probably be done, by running
on a converging line, all our efforts were directed to keeping the
schooner astern of the other party, in order that they might first
reach the point of junction. In this manner there
was
a chance
of Marble's finding the schooner, while there was little of our
finding the boat. It is true, we carried several lights; but as soon
as it began to rain, even a bonfire would not have been seen at a
hundred yards. The water poured down upon us, as if it fell from
spouts, occasionally ceasing, and then returning in streams.
I had then never passed so miserable a night; even that in which
Smudge and his fellows murdered Captain Williams and seized the ship,
being happiness in comparison. I loved Marble. Hardy, loose, in some
respects, and unnurtured as he was in others, the man had been
steadily my friend. He was a capital seaman; a sort of an instinctive
navigator; true as the needle to the flag, and as brave as a
lion. Then, I knew he was in his present strait on account of
mortified feeling, and the rigid notions he entertained of his duty to
his owners. I think I do myself no more than justice, when I say that
I would gladly have exchanged places with him, any time that night.
We held a consultation on the quarter-deck, and it was determined that
our only chance of picking up the boat, was by remaining as nearly as
possible, at the place where her crew must have last seen the
schooner. Marble had a right to expect this; and we did all that lay
in our power to effect the object; waring often, and gaining on our
tacks what we lost in coming round. In this manner we passed a painful
and most uncomfortable night; the winds howling about us a sort of
requiem for the dead, while we hardly knew when we were wallowing in
the seas or not, there being so much water that came down from the
clouds, as nearly to drown us on deck.
At last the light returned, and soon after the tempest broke,
appearing to have expended its fury. An hour after the sun had risen,
we got the trade-wind again, the sea became regular once more, and the
schooner was under all her canvass. Of course, every one of us
officers was aloft, some forward, some aft, to look out for the boat;
but we did not see her again. What was still more extraordinary,
nothing could be seen of the ship! We kept all that day cruising
around the place, expecting to find at least the boat; but without
success.
My situation was now altogether novel to me. I had left home rather
more than a twelvemonth before, the third officer of the Crisis. From
this station, I had risen regularly to be her first officer; and now,
by a dire catastrophe, I found myself in the Pacific, solely charged
with the fortunes of my owners, and those of some forty human beings.
And this, too, before I was quite twenty years old.
Marble's scheme of attacking the ship had always seemed to me to be
wild and impracticable. This was while it was
his
project, not
my own. I still entertained the same opinion, as regards the assault
at sea; but I had, from the first, regarded an attempt on the coast as
a thing much more likely to succeed. Then Emily, and her father, and
the honour of the flag, and the credit I might personally gain, had
their influence; and, at sunset, all hope of finding the boat being
gone, I ordered sail made on our course.
The loss of the whale-boat occurred when we were about two thousand
miles from the western coast of South America. We had a long road
before us, consequently; and, as I had doubted whether the ship we had
seen was the Crisis, it was necessary to be in motion, if anything was
to be effected with our old enemies. The reader may feel some desire
to know in what manner my succession to the command was received by
the people. No man could have been more implicitly obeyed. I was now
six feet and an inch in height, of a powerful and active frame, a good
seaman, and had the habit of command, through a twelvemonth's
experience. The crew knew me, having seen me tried, from the
weather-earings down; and it is very likely I possessed more of their
confidence than I deserved. At all events, I was as implicitly obeyed
as if I had sailed from New York at their head. Everybody regretted
Marble; more, I think, than we regretted poor Captain Williams, though
it must have been on account of the manner we saw him disappear, as it
might be, from before our eyes; since, of the two, I think the last
was the most estimable man. Nevertheless, Marble had his strong
points, and they were points likely to take with seamen; and they had
particularly taken with us. As for the four Sandwich Islanders, I do
not know that they occupied any of our minds at all. We had been
accustomed to regard them as strange beings, who came from that ocean
to which they had thus suddenly returned.