There She Blows! Or, The Log of the ArethusaMacy, William Hussey
General
There She Blows! Or, The Log of the Arethusa
Macy, William Hussey
Sea stories; Whaling -- Fiction
"Nonsense!" returned the old man. "He thinks we Newtowners don't know
his cruising-grounds, because the first landfall he means to make is
away up North Shore Hill. But he can't throw any dust in my eyes."
"You didn't mean to count me, sir," said Fisher, "for I never have
anything to do with the women."
"No, of course not," said the captain. "I'll bet that within
forty-eight hours after we all get our new sails bent, I shall meet
you, head and head, coming down the fashionable side of Orange Street,
with studdingsails out both sides--sweeping common folks like me right
off into the gutter."
"Well, I've got sisters, you know, sir," said Fisher with a half-blush.
"I must show them round."
"Yes, I know it; but, if the Fortitude gets home ahead of us, _one_ of
your sisters wont want your services."
"That's so," put in the second mate. "You can set a new studdingsail on
that boom, Fisher."
"There, you haven't a word to say, Mr. Dunham," replied the captain.
"If you were landed there to-day, there would be an invasion of
'Egypt,' and a 'rush to arms' in that quarter of the world that would
equal anything in the days of Bonaparte. A-a-ah! my spade!" said he,
suddenly changing his tone. "I've struck a ringbolt--no, it isn't--it's
something in the blubber--head of an iron--somebody has had a crack at
this whale before."
He pulled it out, and wiped it off with a piece of canvas, scraped it
lightly with his jackknife, and examined it with an incredulous look.
"Eureka!" he shouted at last, holding up the fragment of the harpoon.
"Here's my iron! Who says he isn't my own whale, when he has carried my
mark these twelve years!"
It was even as he said. There was little more than the barbed head
left, for it must have been long before the wound cicatrized, and the
small part of the shank had been reduced to a mere shred of iron from
the effects of long attrition and corrosion; but fairly legible on the
thick centre-piece of the head were the marks boldly cut with a chisel,
S. COL'S. L. B.
"Ship Colossus's Larboard Boat," said the old man, triumphantly.
"Shouldn't want any more evidence in case of life and death. It's
twelve years since I struck that fish--_the first time_, I mean."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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