Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. I

  To his alarmed fancy, parallels and meridians become emphaticallywhat they are merely designated as being: imaginary lines drawn roundthe earth's surface.

  The log assures him that he is in such a place; but the log isa liar; for no place, nor any thing possessed of a local angularity,is to be lighted upon in the watery waste.

  At length horrible doubts overtake him as to the captain's competencyto navigate his ship. The ignoramus must have lost his way, anddrifted into the outer confines of creation, the region of theeverlasting lull, introductory to a positive vacuity.

  Thoughts of eternity thicken. He begins to feel anxious concerninghis soul.

  The stillness of the calm is awful. His voice begins to grow strangeand portentous. He feels it in him like something swallowed too bigfor the esophagus. It keeps up a sort of involuntary interior hummingin him, like a live beetle. His cranium is a dome full ofreverberations. The hollows of his very bones are as whisperinggalleries. He is afraid to speak loud, lest he be stunned; like theman in the bass drum.

  But more than all else is the consciousness of his utterhelplessness. Succor or sympathy there is none. Penitence forembarking avails not. The final satisfaction of despairing may not behis with a relish. Vain the idea of idling out the calm. He may sleepif he can, or purposely delude himself into a crazy fancy, that he ismerely at leisure. All this he may compass; but he may not lounge;for to lounge is to be idle; to be idle implies an absence of anything to do; whereas there is a calm to be endured: enough to attendto, Heaven knows.

  His physical organization, obviously intended for locomotion, becomesa fixture; for where the calm leaves him, there he remains. Even hisundoubted vested rights, comprised in his glorious liberty ofvolition, become as naught. For of what use? He wills to go: to getaway from the calm: as ashore he would avoid the plague. But he cannot; and how foolish to revolve expedients. It is more hopeless thana bad marriage in a land where there is no Doctors' Commons. He hastaken the ship to wife, for better or for worse, for calm orfor gale; and she is not to be shuffled off. With yards akimbo, shesays unto him scornfully, as the old beldam said to the littledwarf:--"Help yourself"

  And all this, and more than this, is a calm.

  CHAPTER IIIA King For A Comrade

  At the time I now write of, we must have been something more thansixty degrees to the west of the Gallipagos. And having attained adesirable longitude, we were standing northward for our arcticdestination: around us one wide sea.

  But due west, though distant a thousand miles, stretched north andsouth an almost endless Archipelago, here and there inhabited, butlittle known; and mostly unfrequented, even by whalemen, who goalmost every where. Beginning at the southerly termination of thisgreat chain, it comprises the islands loosely known as Ellice'sgroup; then, the Kingsmill isles; then, the Radack and Mulgraveclusters. These islands had been represented to me as mostly of coralformation, low and fertile, and abounding in a variety of fruits. Thelanguage of the people was said to be very similar to that or theNavigator's islands, from which, their ancestors are supposed to haveemigrated.

  And thus much being said, all has been related that I then knew ofthe islands in question. Enough, however, that they existed at all;and that our path thereto lay over a pleasant sea, and before areliable Trade-wind. The distance, though great, was merely anextension of water; so much blankness to be sailed over; and in acraft, too, that properly managed has been known to outlive greatships in a gale. For this much is true of a whale-boat, thecunningest thing in its way ever fabricated by man.

  Upon one of the Kingsmill islands, then, I determined to plantmy foot, come what come would. And I was equally determined that oneof the ship's boats should float me thither. But I had no idea ofbeing without a companion. It would be a weary watch to keep all bymyself, with naught but the horizon in sight.

  Now, among the crew was a fine old seaman, one Jarl; how old, no onecould tell, not even himself. Forecastle chronology is ever vague anddefective. "Man and boy," said honest Jarl, "I have lived ever sinceI can remember." And truly, who may call to mind when he was not? Toourselves, we all seem coeval with creation. Whence it comes, that itis so hard to die, ere the world itself is departed.

  Jarl hailed from the isle of Skye, one of the constellated Hebrides.Hence, they often called him the Skyeman. And though he was far frombeing piratical of soul, he was yet an old Norseman to behold. Hishands were brawny as the paws of a bear; his voice hoarse as a stormroaring round the old peak of Mull; and his long yellow hair wavedround his head like a sunset. My life for it, Jarl, thy ancestorswere Vikings, who many a time sailed over the salt German sea and theBaltic; who wedded their Brynhildas in Jutland; and are now quaffingmead in the halls of Valhalla, and beating time with their cans tothe hymns of the Scalds. Ah! how the old Sagas run through me!

  Yet Jarl, the descendant of heroes and kings, was a lone, friendlessmariner on the main, only true to his origin in the sea-life that heled. But so it has been, and forever will be. What yeoman shall swearthat he is not descended from Alfred? what dunce, that he is notsprung of old Homer? King Noah, God bless him! fathered us all. Thenhold up your heads, oh ye Helots, blood potential flows through yourveins. All of us have monarchs and sages for kinsmen; nay, angels andarchangels for cousins; since in antediluvian days, the sons of Goddid verily wed with our mothers, the irresistible daughters of Eve.Thus all generations are blended: and heaven and earth of onekin: the hierarchies of seraphs in the uttermost skies; the thronesand principalities in the zodiac; the shades that roam throughoutspace; the nations and families, flocks and folds of the earth; oneand all, brothers in essence--oh, be we then brothers indeed! Allthings form but one whole; the universe a Judea, and God Jehovah itshead. Then no more let us start with affright. In a theocracy, whatis to fear? Let us compose ourselves to death as fagged horsemensleep in the saddle. Let us welcome even ghosts when they rise. Awaywith our stares and grimaces. The New Zealander's tattooing is not aprodigy; nor the Chinaman's ways an enigma. No custom is strange; nocreed is absurd; no foe, but who will in the end prove a friend. Inheaven, at last, our good, old, white-haired father Adam will greetall alike, and sociality forever prevail. Christian shall join handsbetween Gentile and Jew; grim Dante forget his Infernos, and shakesides with fat Rabelais; and monk Luther, over a flagon of oldnectar, talk over old times with Pope Leo. Then, shall we sit by thesages, who of yore gave laws to the Medes and Persians in the sun; bythe cavalry captains in Perseus, who cried, "To horse!" when waked bytheir Last Trump sounding to the charge; by the old hunters, whoeternities ago, hunted the moose in Orion; by the minstrels, who sangin the Milky Way when Jesus our Saviour was born. Then shall we listto no shallow gossip of Magellans and Drakes; but give ear to thevoyagers who have circumnavigated the Ecliptic; who rounded the PolarStar as Cape Horn. Then shall the Stagirite and Kant be forgotten,and another folio than theirs be turned over for wisdom; even thefolio now spread with horoscopes as yet undeciphered, the heaven ofheavens on high.

  Now, in old Jarl's lingo there was never an idiom. Your aboriginaltar is too much of a cosmopolitan for that. Long companionship withseamen of all tribes: Manilla-men, Anglo-Saxons, Cholos, Lascars, andDanes, wear away in good time all mother-tongue stammerings. You sinkyour clan; down goes your nation; you speak a world's language,jovially jabbering in the Lingua-Franca of the forecastle.

  True to his calling, the Skyeman was very illiterate; witless ofSalamanca, Heidelberg, or Brazen-Nose; in Delhi, had never turnedover the books of the Brahmins. For geography, in which sailorsshould be adepts, since they are forever turning over and over thegreat globe of globes, poor Jarl was deplorably lacking. According tohis view of the matter, this terraqueous world had been formed in themanner of a tart; the land being a mere marginal crust, within whichrolled the watery world proper. Such seemed my good Viking's theoryof cosmography. As for other worlds, he weened not of them; yet fullas much as Chrysostom.

  Ah, Jarl! an honest, earnest Wight; so true and simple, that thesecr
et operations of thy soul were more inscrutable than the subtleworkings of Spinoza's.

  Thus much be said of the Skyeman; for he was exceedingly taciturn,and but seldom will speak for himself.

  Now, higher sympathies apart, for Jarl I had a wonderful liking; forhe loved me; from the first had cleaved to me.

  It is sometimes the case, that an old mariner like him will conceivea very strong attachment for some young sailor, his shipmate; anattachment so devoted, as to be wholly inexplicable, unlessoriginating in that heart-loneliness which overtakes most seamen asthey grow aged; impelling them to fasten upon some chance object ofregard. But however it was, my Viking, thy unbidden affection was thenoblest homage ever paid me. And frankly, I am more inclined to thinkwell of myself, as in some way deserving thy devotion, than from therounded compliments of more cultivated minds.

  Now, at sea, and in the fellowship of sailors, all men appear as theyare. No school like a ship for studying human nature. The contact ofone man with another is too near and constant to favor deceit. Youwear your character as loosely as your flowing trowsers. Vainall endeavors to assume qualities not yours; or to conceal those youpossess. Incognitos, however desirable, are out of the question. Andthus aboard of all ships in which I have sailed, I have invariablybeen known by a sort of thawing-room title. Not,--let me hurry tosay,--that I put hand in tar bucket with a squeamish air, or ascendedthe rigging with a Chesterfieldian mince. No, no, I was never betterthan my vocation; and mine have been many. I showed as brown a chest,and as hard a hand, as the tarriest tar of them all. And never didshipmate of mine upbraid me with a genteel disinclination to duty,though it carried me to truck of main-mast, or jib-boom-end, in themost wolfish blast that ever howled.

  Whence then, this annoying appellation? for annoying it mostassuredly was. It was because of something in me that could not behidden; stealing out in an occasional polysyllable; an otherwiseincomprehensible deliberation in dining; remote, unguarded allusionsto Belles-Lettres affairs; and other trifles superfluous to mention.

  But suffice it to say, that it had gone abroad among the Areturion'screw, that at some indefinite period of my career, I had been a"nob." But Jarl seemed to go further. He must have taken me for oneof the House of Hanover in disguise; or, haply, for bonneted CharlesEdward the Pretender, who, like the Wandering Jew, may yet be avagrant. At any rate, his loyalty was extreme. Unsolicited, he was mylaundress and tailor; a most expert one, too; and when at meal-timesmy turn came round to look out at the mast-head, or stand at thewheel, he catered for me among the "kids" in the forecastle withunwearied assiduity. Many's the good lump of "duff" for which I wasindebted to my good Viking's good care of me. And like Sesostris Iwas served by a monarch. Yet in some degree the obligation wasmutual. For be it known that, in sea-parlance, we were _chummies._

  Now this _chummying_ among sailors is like the brotherhood subsistingbetween a brace of collegians (chums) rooming together. It is aFidus-Achates-ship, a league of offense and defense, a copartnershipof chests and toilets, a bond of love and good feeling, and a mutualchampionship of the absent one. True, my nautical reminiscensesremind me of sundry lazy, ne'er-do-well, unprofitable, and abominablechummies; chummies, who at meal times were last at the "kids," whentheir unfortunate partners were high upon the spars; chummies, whoaffected awkwardness at the needle, and conscientious scruples aboutdabbling in the suds; so that chummy the simple was made to do allthe work of the firm, while chummy the cunning played the sleepingpartner in his hammock. Out upon such chummies!

  But I appeal to thee, honest Jarl, if I was ever chummy the cunning.Never mind if thou didst fabricate my tarpaulins; and with Samaritancharity bind up the rents, and pour needle and thread into thefrightful gashes that agonized my hapless nether integuments, whichthou calledst "ducks;"--Didst thou not expressly declare, that allthese things, and more, thou wouldst do for me, despite my own quaintthimble, fashioned from the ivory tusk of a whale? Nay; could I evenwrest from thy willful hands my very shirt, when once thou hadst itsteaming in an unsavory pickle in thy capacious vat, a decapitatedcask? Full well thou knowest, Jarl, that these things are true; and Iam bound to say it, to disclaim any lurking desire to reap advantagefrom thy great good nature.

  Now my Viking for me, thought I, when I cast about for a comrade; andmy Viking alone.

  CHAPTER IVA Chat In The Clouds

  The Skyeman seemed so earnest and upright a seaman, that to tell theplain truth, in spite of his love for me, I had many misgivings as tohis readiness to unite in an undertaking which apparently savored ofa moral dereliction. But all things considered, I deemed my ownresolution quite venial; and as for inducing another to join me, itseemed a precaution so indispensable, as to outweigh all otherconsiderations.

  Therefore I resolved freely to open my heart to him; for that specialpurpose paying him a visit, when, like some old albatross in the air,he happened to be perched at the foremast-head, all by himself, onthe lookout for whales never seen.

  Now this standing upon a bit of stick 100 feet aloft for hours at atime, swiftly sailing over the sea, is very much like crossing theChannel in a balloon. Manfred-like, you talk to the clouds: you havea fellow feeling for the sun. And when Jarl and I got conversing upthere, smoking our dwarfish "dudeens," any sea-gull passing by mighthave taken us for Messrs. Blanchard and Jeffries, socially puffingtheir after-dinner Bagdads, bound to Calais, via Heaven, from Dover.Honest Jarl, I acquainted with all: my conversation with the captain,the hint implied in his last words, my firm resolve to quit the shipin one of her boats, and the facility with which I thought the thingcould be done. Then I threw out many inducements, in the shape ofpleasant anticipations of bearing right down before the wind upon thesunny isles under our lee.

  He listened attentively; but so long remained silent that I almostfancied there was something in Jarl which would prove too much for meand my eloquence.

  At last he very bluntly declared that the scheme was a crazy one; hehad never known of such a thing but thrice before; and in every casethe runaways had never afterwards been heard of. He entreated me torenounce my determination, not be a boy, pause and reflect, stick tothe ship, and go home in her like a man. Verily, my Viking talked tome like my uncle.

  But to all this I turned a deaf ear; affirming that my mind was madeup; and that as he refused to accompany me, and I fancied no one elsefor a comrade, I would go stark alone rather than not at all. Uponthis, seeing my resolution immovable, he bluntly swore that he wouldfollow me through thick and thin.

  Thanks, Jarl! thou wert one of those devoted fellows who will wrestlehard to convince one loved of error; but failing, forthwith changetheir wrestling to a sympathetic hug.

  But now his elderly prudence came into play. Casting his eye overthe boundless expanse below, he inquired how far off were the islandsin question.

  "A thousand miles and no less."

  "With a fair trade breeze, then, and a boat sail, that is a goodtwelve days' passage, but calms and currents may make it a month,perhaps more." So saying, he shook his old head, and his yellow hairstreamed.

  But trying my best to chase away these misgivings, he at last gavethem over. He assured me I might count upon him to his uttermostkeel.

  My Viking secured, I felt more at ease; and thoughtfully consideredhow the enterprise might best be accomplished.

  There was no time to be lost. Every hour was carrying us farther andfarther from the parallel most desirable for us to follow in ourroute to the westward. So, with all possible dispatch, Imatured my plans, and communicated them to Jarl, who gave several oldhints--having ulterior probabilities in view--which were notneglected.

  Strange to relate, it was not till my Viking, with a rueful face,reminded me of the fact, that I bethought me of a circumstancesomewhat alarming at the first blush. We must push off without chartor quadrant; though, as will shortly be seen, a compass was by nomeans out of the question. The chart, to be sure, I did not so muchlay to heart; but a quadrant was more than desirable. Still, it wasby no m
eans indispensable. For this reason. When we started, ourlatitude would be exactly known; and whether, on our voyage westward,we drifted north or south therefrom, we could not, by anypossibility, get so far out of our reckoning, as to fail in strikingsome one of a long chain of islands, which, for many degrees, on bothsides of the equator, stretched right across our track.

  For much the same reason, it mattered little, whether on our passagewe daily knew our longitude; for no known land lay between us and theplace we desired to reach. So what could be plainer than this: thatif westward we patiently held on our way, we must eventually achieveour destination?

  As for intervening shoals or reefs, if any there were, theyintimidated us not. In a boat that drew but a few inches of water,but an indifferent look-out would preclude all danger on that score.At all events, the thing seemed feasible enough, notwithstanding oldJarl's superstitious reverence for nautical instruments, and thephilosophical objections which might have been urged by a pedanticdisciple of Mercator.

  Very often, as the old maxim goes, the simplest things are the moststartling, and that, too, from their very simplicity. So cherish noalarms, if thus we addressed the setting sun--"Be thou, old pilot,our guide!"

  CHAPTER VSeats Secured And Portmanteaus Packed

  But thoughts of sextants and quadrants were the least of our cares.

  Right from under the very arches of the eyebrows of thirty men--captain, mates, and crew--a boat was to be abstracted; they knowingnothing of the event, until all knowledge would prove unavailing.

  Hark ye:

  At sea, the boats of a South Sea-man (generally four in number, spareones omitted,) are suspended by tackles, hooked above, to curvedtimbers called "davits," vertically fixed to the ship's sides.