The story hunter : $b or, Tales of the weird and wildSuffling, Ernest R. (Ernest Richard)
Science
The story hunter : $b or, Tales of the weird and wild
Suffling, Ernest R. (Ernest Richard)
Hypnotism -- Fiction; Short stories, English; Supernatural -- Fiction
I was in a great flutter of excitement when the hour of departure
really _did_ arrive, which was not till near noon instead of eight
sharp, as the skipper had announced. I was like a monkey just escaped
from its cage, here, there, and everywhere; and when we dropped down
the river to the harbour’s mouth, on the very last of the ebb, I can
recollect how I scrambled aloft when the order was given to loosen and
hoist sail. I did not know what to do certainly, but I watched the
others, and worked away till my fingers, arms, aye and every limb ached
again--but I was supremely happy until _mal-de-mer_ overtook me, and
then I went below and turned into my berth.
A couple of days found me all alive again, and on deck as merry as a
cricket. We were now off Aberdeen, quietly drawing along under all
sail, and everything going as merry as a marriage bell.
As night began to close in around us we had Peterhead (the chief
whaling port) right on our port beam, and that gave Captain Cooper an
opportunity to tell some of his yarns about the whaling cruises he had
participated in when a young man in the Greenland seas.
After dark, being past Kinnard’s Head, near Frazerburgh, we had the
great gulf between Aberdeenshire and Caithness on our port beam, and
were quite out of sight of land. The wind, which had been lazy all the
day, now began to freshen and back a little to the south of west,
which was very favourable for our sailing. Seeing this the captain
made up his mind not to call in at Kirkwall, the chief town in the
Orkneys, but to leave it for the homeward voyage, and take advantage
of the favouring breeze to push on to Lerwick in the Shetland Isles.
His orders before turning in were consequently given to the mate to be
carried out, unless a change of wind should occur, in which case the
skipper was to be called.
Having got over my sea-sickness and found my sea-legs, the day appeared
too short for me, so I agreed with the cabin-boy, Joey Nicholls, that
we would not turn in till the end of the first watch (midnight), but
stay on deck and enjoy the beautiful evening, for it was a lovely mild
moonlight night. My own watch was the second dog-watch, which is over
at eight p.m., so Joey and I had laid ourselves out for a further four
hours’ fun before turning in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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