The Red Eric by Robert Michael Ballantyne (cat reading book txt) 📕

what he knew in an interesting manner and with a peculiarly pleasant tone of voice. Every one who has considered the subject at all must have observed what a powerful influence there lies in the mere manner and tone of a speaker. The captain's voice was so rich, so mellow, and capable of such varied modulation, that the men listened with pleasure to the words which rolled from his lips, as one would listen to a sweet song. He became so deeply interested, too, in the subject about which he happened to be speaking, that his auditors could not help becoming interested also. He had no powers of eloquence, neither was he gifted with an unusually bright fancy. But he was fluent in speech, and his words, though not chosen, were usually appropriate. The captain had no powers of invention whatever. He used to say, when asked to tell a story, that he "might as well try to play the fiddle with a handspike." But this was no misfortune, for he had read much, and his memory was good, and supplied him with an endless flow of small-talk on almost every subject that usually falls under the observation of sea-captains, and on many subjects besides, about which most sea-captains, or land-captains, or any other captains whatsoever, are almost totally ignorant.

Captain Dunning could tell of adventures in the whale-fishery, gone through either by himself or by friends, that would have made your two eyes stare out of their two sockets until they looked like saucers (to use a common but not very correct simile). He could tell the exact latitude and longitude of almost every important and prominent part of the globe, and give the distance, pretty nearly, of any one place (on a large scale) from any other place. He could give the heights of all the chief mountains in the world to within a few feet, and could calculate, by merely looking at its current and depth, how many cubic feet of water any river delivered to the sea per minute. Length, breadth, and thickness, height, depth, and density, were subjects in which he revelled, and with which he played as a juggler does with golden balls; and so great were his powers of numerical calculation, that the sailors often declared they believed he could work out any calculation backwards without the use of logarithms! He was constantly instituting comparisons that were by no means what the proverb terms "odious," but which were often very astonishing, and in all his stories so many curious and peculiar facts were introduced, that, as we have already said, they were very much relished indeed.

Not less relished, however, were Glynn Proctor's astounding and purely imaginative tales. After the men's minds had been chained intently on one of the captain's semi-philosophical anecdotes, they turned with infinite zest to one of Glynn's outrageous flights. Glynn had not read much in his short life, and his memory was nothing to boast of, but his imagination was quite gigantic. He could invent almost anything; and the curious part of it was, that he could do it out of nothing, if need be. He never took time to consider what he should say. When called on for a story he began at once, and it flowed from him like a flood of sparkling water from a fountain in fairy realms. Up in the clouds; high in the blue ether; down in the coral caves; deep in the ocean waves; out on the mountain heaths; far in the rocky glens, or away in the wild woods green--it was all one to Glynn; he leaped away in an instant, with a long train of adventurers at his heels--male and female, little and big, old and young, pretty and plain, grave and gay. And didn't they go through adventures that would have made the hair of mortals not only stand on end, but fly out by the roots altogether? Didn't he make them talk, as mortals never talked before; and sing as mortals never dreamed of? And, oh! didn't he just make them stew, and roast, and boil joints of savoury meat, and bake pies, and tarts, and puddings, such as Soyer in his wildest culinary dreams never imagined, and such as caused the mouths of the crew of the _Maid of the Isle_ to water, until they were constrained, poor fellows, to tell him to "clap a stopper upon that," and hold his tongue, for they "couldn't stand it!"

Phil Briant and Gurney dealt in the purely comic line. They remarked-- generally in an undertone--that they left poetry and prose to Glynn and the captain; and it was as well they did, for their talents certainly did not lie in either of these directions. They came out strong after meals, when the weather was fine, and formed a species of light and agreeable interlude to the more weighty efforts of the captain and the brilliant sallies of Glynn.

Gurney dealt in _experiences_ chiefly, and usually endeavoured by asseveration and iteration to impress his hearers with the truth of facts said to have been experienced by himself, which, if true, would certainly have consigned him to a premature grave long ago. Briant, on the other hand, dealt largely in ghost stories, which he did not vouch for the truth of, but permitted his hearers to judge of for themselves-- a permission which they would doubtless have taken for themselves at any rate.

But tales and stories occupied, after all, only a small portion of the men's time during that long voyage. Often, very often, they were too much exhausted to talk or even to listen, and when not obliged to labour at the oars they tried to sleep; but "Nature's sweet restorer" did not always come at the first invitation, as was his wont in other days, and too frequently they were obliged to resume work unrefreshed. Their hands became hard and horny in the palms at last, like a man's heel, and their backs and arms ached from constant work.

Ailie kept in good health, but she, too, began to grow weak from want of proper nourishment. She slept better than the men, for the comfortable sleeping-box that Glynn had constructed for her sheltered her from the heat, wet, and cold, to which the former were constantly exposed. She amused herself, when not listening to stories or asleep, by playing with her favourite, and she spent a good deal of time in reading her Bible-- sometimes to herself, at other times, in a low tone, to her father as he sat at the helm. And many a time did she see a meaning in passages which, in happier times, had passed meaningless before her eyes, and often did she find sweet comfort in words that she had read with comparative indifference in former days.

It is in the time of trial, trouble, and sorrow that the Bible proves to be a friend indeed. Happy the Christian who, when dark clouds overwhelm his soul, has a memory well stored with the comforting passages of the Word of God.

But Ailie had another occupation which filled up much of her leisure, and proved to be a source of deep and engrossing interest at the time. This was the keeping of a journal of the voyage. On the last trip made to the wreck of the _Red Eric_, just before the great storm that completed the destruction of that ship, the captain had brought away in his pocket a couple of note-books. One of these he kept to himself to jot down the chief incidents of the intended voyage; the other he gave to Ailie, along with a blacklead pencil. Being fond of trying to write, she amused herself for hours together in jotting down her thoughts about the various incidents of the voyage, great and small; and being a very good drawer for her age, she executed many fanciful and elaborate sketches, among which were innumerable portraits of Jacko and several caricatures of the men. This journal, as it advanced, became a source of much interest and amusement to every one in the boat; and when, in an hour of the utmost peril, it, along with many other things, was lost, the men, after the danger was past, felt the loss severely.

Thus they spent their time--now pleasantly, now sadly--sometimes becoming cheerful and hopeful, at other times sinking almost into a state of despair as their little stock of food and water dwindled down, while the _Maid of the Isle_ still held on her apparently endless course over the great wide sea.


CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.


THE CALM AND THE STORM--A SERIOUS LOSS AND GREAT GAIN--BIRD-CATCHING EXTRAORDINARY--SAVED AT LAST.

One day a deep death-like calm settled down upon the ocean. For some days before, the winds had been light and uncertain, and the air had been excessively warm. The captain cast uneasy glances around him from time to time, and looked with a sadder countenance than usual on the haggard faces of the men as they laboured slowly and silently at the oars.

"I don't know what this will turn to, doctor," he said, in a low tone; "I don't like the look of it."

The doctor, who was perusing Ailie's journal at the moment, looked up and shook his head.

"It seems to me, captain, that whatever happens, matters cannot be made much worse."

"You are wrong, doctor," replied the captain quietly; "we have still much to be thankful for."

"Did you not tell me a few minutes ago that the water was almost done?"

The doctor said this in a whisper, for the men had not yet been made aware of the fact.

"Yes, I did; but it is not _quite_ done; that is matter for thankfulness."

"Oh, according to that principle," observed the doctor, somewhat testily, "you may say we have cause to be thankful for _everything_, bad as well as good."

"So we have! so we have! If everything good were taken from us, and nothing left us but our lives, we would have reason to be thankful for that--thankful that we were still above ground, still in the land of hope, with salvation to our immortal souls through Jesus Christ freely offered for our acceptance."

The doctor made no reply. He thought the captain a little weak in the matter of religion. If religion is false, his opinion of the captain no doubt, was right, but if true, surely the weakness lay all the other way.

That morning the captain's voice in prayer was more earnest, if possible, than usual, and he put up a special petition for _water_, which was observed by the men with feelings of great anxiety, and responded to with a deep amen. After morning worship the scales were brought, and the captain proceeded to weigh out the scanty meal, while the men watched his every motion with an almost wolfish glare, that told eloquently of the prolonged sufferings they had endured. Even poor Ailie's gentle face now wore a sharp, anxious expression when food was being served out, and she accepted her small portion with a nervous haste that was deeply painful and touching to witness. She little knew, poor child, that that portion of bread and meat and water, small though it was, was larger than that issued to the men, being increased by a small quantity deducted from the captain's own allowance and an equal amount from that of Glynn. The latter had noticed the captain's habit of regularly calling off