Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Nature -- Juvenile fiction; Self-reliance -- Juvenile fiction
There I lies doubled up like a old sea-sarpint along of the
rocks, but warm and comfortable like. Last of all, the ropes and chains
they got busted off becoz of my growing so big and strong down there,
and up I comes to blow like a grampus, for I were full of water by
reason that it had soaked into me. So that's how I got to be the Old Man
of the Sea, hundreds and hundreds of years ago."
"And do you like to be always in the sea, Old Bill?" asked Martin.
"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the monster. "That's a good un, little Martin! Do
I like it? Well, it's better than being a sailor man in a ship, I can
tell 'ee. That were a hard life, with nothing good except perhaps the
baccy. I were very fond of baccy once before the sea put out my pipe.
Likewise of rum. Many's the time I've been picked up on shore that
drunk, Martin, you wouldn't believe it, I were that fond of rum.
Sometimes, down here, when I remember how good it tasted, I open my
mouth wide and takes down a big gulp of sea water, enough to fill a
hogshead; then I comes up and blows it all out again just like a old
grampus."
And having said this, he opened his vast cavernous mouth and roared out
his hoarse ho, ho, ho! louder than before, and at the same time he rose
up higher above the water and the black rock he had been leaning on,
until he stood like a stupendous tower above Martin--a man-shaped tower
of water and spray, and white froth and brown seaweed. Then he slowly
fell backwards out upon the sea, and falling upon the sea caused so
mighty a wave that it went high over the black rock and washed the face
of the cliff, sweeping Martin back among the rocks.
When the great wave retired, and Martin, half-choked with water and
half-dazed, struggled on to his feet, he saw that it was night, and a
cloudy, black sky was above, and the black sea beneath him. He had not
seen the light fade, and had perhaps fallen asleep and seen and talked
with that old sea monster in a dream. But now he could not escape from
his position down in the gap, just above the roaring waves. There he had
to stay, sheltered in a cavity in the rock, and lying there, half
sleeping and half waking, he had that great voice of the sea in his ears
all night.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_Chapter Eighteen_
_Martin Plays With the Waves_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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