Hudson Bay by Robert Michael Ballantyne (the little red hen ebook TXT) 📕

a chief factor in the Company's service; the doctor; young Mr Wiseacre, afore-mentioned; the first and second mates; and myself. The captain was a thin, middle-sized, offhand man; thoroughly acquainted with his profession; good-humoured and gruff by turns; and he always spoke with the air of an oracle. Mr Carles was a mild, good-natured man, of about fifty-five, with a smooth, bald head, encircled by a growth of long, thin hair. He was stoutly built, and possessed of that truly amiable and captivating disposition which enters earnestly and kindly into the affairs of others, and totally repudiates self. From early manhood he had roughed life in the very roughest and wildest scenes of the wilderness, and was now returning to those scenes after a short visit to his native land. The doctor was a nondescript; a compound of gravity, fun, seriousness, and humbug--the latter predominating. He had been everywhere (at least, so he said), had seen everything, knew everybody, and played the fiddle. It cannot be said, I fear, that he played it well; but, amid the various vicissitudes of his chequered life, the doctor had frequently found himself in company where his violin was almost idolised and himself deified; especially when the place chanced to be the American backwoods, where violins are scarce, the auditors semi-barbarous Highlanders, and the music Scotch reels. Mr Wiseacre was nothing! He never spoke except when compelled to do so; never read, and never cared for anything or anybody; wore very long hair, which almost hid his face, owing to a habit which he had of holding his head always down: and apparently lived but to eat, drink, and sleep. Sometimes, though very rarely, he became so far facetious as to indulge in a wink and a low giggle; but beyond this he seldom soared. The two mates were simply _mates_. Those who know the population of the sea will understand the description sufficiently; those who don't, will never, I fear, be made to understand by description. They worked the ship, hove the log, changed the watch, turned out and tumbled in, with the callous indifference and stern regularity of clock work; inhabited tarpaulin dreadnoughts and sou'-westers; came down to meals with modest diffidence, and walked the deck with bantam-cock-like assurance. Nevertheless, they were warm-hearted fellows, both of them, although the heat didn't often come to the surface. The first mate was a _broad_ Scotchman, in every sense of the term; the second was a burly little Englishman.

"How's the wind, Collins?" said the captain, as the second mate sat down at the dinner-table, and brushed the spray from his face with the back of his brown hand.

"Changed a point to the s'uthard o' sou'-west, sir," he answered, "and looks as if it would blow hard."

"Humph!" ejaculated the captain, while he proceeded to help the fish. "I hope it'll only keep quiet till we get into blue water, and then it may blow like blazes for all I care,--Take some trout, doctor? It's the last you'll put your teeth through for six weeks to come, _I_ know; so make the most of it.--I wish I were only through the Pentland Firth, and scudding under full sail for the ice--I do." And the captain looked fiercely at the compass which hung over his head, as if he had said something worthy of being recorded in history, and began to eat.

After a pause of five minutes or so--during which time the knives and forks had been clattering pretty vigorously, and the trout had become a miserable skeleton--the captain resumed his discourse.

"I tell you what it is now, gentlemen; if there's not going to be a change of some sort or other, I'm no sailor."

"It does look very threatening," said Mr Carles, peering through the stern window. "I don't much like the look of these clouds behind us. Look there, doctor!" he continued, pointing towards the window. "What do you think of that?"

"Nothing!" replied the doctor, through a mouthful of duff and potatoes. "A squall, I fancy; wish it'd only wait till after dinner."

"It never does," said the captain. "I've been to sea these fifteen years, and I always find that squalls come on at breakfast or dinner, like an unwelcome visitor. They've got a thorough contempt for tea-- seem to know it's but swipes, and not worth pitching into one's lap; but dinner's sure to bring 'em on, if they're in the neighbourhood, and make 'em bu'st their cheeks at you. Remember once, when I was cruising in the Mediterranean, in Lord P---'s yacht, we'd been stewing on deck under an awning the whole forenoon, scarce able to breathe, when the bell rang for dinner. Well, down we all tumbled--about ten ladies and fifteen gentlemen, or thereabouts--and seated ourselves round the table. There was no end of grub of every kind. Lord P--- was eccentric in that way, and was always at some new dodge or other in the way of cookery. At this time he had invented a new dumpling. Its jacket was much the same as usual--inch-thick duff; but its contents were beyond anything I ever saw, except the maw of an old shark. Well, just as the steward took off the cover, _hiss-iss_ went the wind overhead, and one of those horrible squalls that come rattling down without a moment's warning in those parts, struck the ship, and gave her a heel over that sent the salt-cellars chasing the tumblers like all-possessed; and the great dumpling gave a heavy lurch to leeward, rolled fairly over on its beam-ends, and began to course straight down the table quite sedate and quiet-like. Several dives were made at it by the gentlemen as it passed, but they all missed; and finally, just as a youngster made a grab at it with both hands that bid fair to be successful, another howl of the squall changed its course, and sent it like a cannon-shot straight into the face of the steward, where it split its sides, and scattered its contents right and left. I don't know how it ended, for I bolted up the companion, and saw the squall splitting away to leeward, shrieking as it went, just as if it were rejoicing at the mischief it had done."

The laugh which greeted the captain's anecdote had scarce subsided when the tough sides of the good _Prince Rupert_ gave a gentle creak, and the angle at which the active steward perambulated the cabin became absurdly acute.

Just then the doctor cast his eye up at the compass suspended above the captain's head. "Hallo!" said he--But before he could give utterance to the sentiments to which "hallo" was the preface, the hoarse voice of the first mate came rolling down the companion-hatch,--"A squall, sir! scoorin' doon like mad! Wund's veered richt roond to the nor'-east."

The captain and second mate sprang hastily to their feet and rushed upon deck, where the rest of us joined them as speedily as possible.

On gaining the quarter-deck, the scene that presented itself was truly grand. Thick black clouds rolled heavily overhead, and cast a gloom upon the sea which caused it to look like ink. Not a breath of wind swelled the sails, which the men were actively engaged in taking in. Far away on our weather-quarter the clouds were thicker and darker; and just where they met the sea there was seen a bright streak of white, which rapidly grew broader and brighter, until we could perceive that it was the sea lashed into a seething foam by the gale which was sweeping over it.

"Mind your helm!" shouted the captain.

"Ay, ay, sir!" sang out the man at the wheel. And in another moment the squall burst upon us with all its fury, laying the huge vessel over on its side as if it had been a feather on the wave, and causing her to fly through the black water like a dolphin.

In a few minutes the first violence of the squall passed away, and was succeeded by a steady breeze, which bore us merrily along over the swelling billows.

"A stiff one, that," said the captain, turning to the doctor, who, with imperturbable nonchalance, was standing near him, holding on to a stanchion with one hand, while the other reposed in his breeches pocket.

"I hope it will last," replied the doctor. "If it does, we'll not be long of reaching the blue water you long so much for."

Young Wiseacre, who during the squall had been clutching the weather-shrouds with the tenacity of a drowning man, opened his eyes very wide on hearing this, to him, insane wish, and said to me in an undertone, "I say, do you think the doctor is quite right in his mind?"

"I have no doubt of it," replied I. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard him say to the captain he wished that this would last."

"Is that all?" said I, while a very vile spirit of vanity took possession of me, inducing me to speak in a tone which indicated a tranquillity of mind that I certainly did not enjoy. "Oh, this is nothing at all! I see you've never been on salt water before. Just wait a bit, old fellow!" And having given utterance to this somewhat dark and mysterious expression, I staggered across the deck, and amused myself in watching the thick volumes of spray that flew at every plunge from the sides of the bounding vessel.

The doctor's wish was granted. The breeze continued steady and strong, sending us through the Pentland Firth in grand style, and carrying us in a short time to the island of Lewis, where we hove-to for a pilot. After a little signalising we obtained one, who steered our good ship in safety through the narrow entrance to the bay of Stornoway into whose quiet waters we finally dropped our anchor.


CHAPTER TWO.


STORNOWAY--THE BALL--AT SEA--GO OUT TO TEA ON THE ATLANTIC--AMONG THE ICE--SIGHTING LAND--A SLEEPY SIGHT--YORK FACTORY AND BACHELORS' HALL.

The harbour of Stornoway is surrounded by high hills, except at the entrance, where a passage--not more, I should think, than three hundred yards wide--admits vessels of any tonnage into its sheltering bosom. Stornoway, a pretty, modest-looking town, apparently pleased with its lot, and contented to be far away from the busy and bustling world, lies snugly at the bottom of the bay. Here we remained upwards of a week, engaging men for the wild Nor'-West, and cultivating the acquaintance of the people, who were extremely kind and very hospitable. Occasionally Wiseacre and I amused ourselves with fishing excursions to the middle of the bay in small boats; in which excursions we were usually accompanied by two or three very ragged little boys from the town. Our sport was generally good, and rendered extremely interesting by our uncertainty as to which of the monsters of the deep would first attack our hooks. Rock-codlings and flounders appeared the most voracious, and occasionally a skate or long-legged crab came struggling to the surface.

Just before leaving this peaceful little spot, our captain gave a grand ball on board, to which were invited the _elite_ of Stornoway. Great preparations were made for the occasion. The quarter-deck was well washed and scrubbed; an awning was spread over it, which formed a capital ceiling; and representatives of almost every flag that waves formed the walls of the large and airy apartment. Oil lamps, placed upon the skylights, companion, and capstan, shed a