McBain, "prettyoften, too."

  A Jacob's-ladder was thrown overboard as they approached, and a rope,when up they sprang, and next moment stood on the deck of theGreenlandman, lifting their hats with true sailor courtesy as soon asthey touched her timbers.

  Rough and unkempt both the seamen and officers looked beside our smart,gaily-dressed yachtsmen, but they accorded them a kindly welcomenevertheless. They were invited down below, and found themselves in alittle octagon-shaped saloon, with a stove on one side, and doorsopening off every other. So small was this crib, as one might call it,that, with the captain and the mate, our friends quite filled it.

  The captain was a tall, stout, blustering fellow of about forty years ofage, who welcomed them in, roughly but not unkindly, and showered uponthem about a dozen questions without waiting for an answer to either.What was the latest from England? Were we at war? Was Hool (Hull)still in the same place? Had they brought newspapers? What would theydrink? Ending up with--

  "Steward, bring the bottles--confound you! what are you standinggrinning there at, like a vixen fox? Sharp's the word, quick's themotion."

  There were many words in this sailor's vocabulary that I do not think itright to repeat, as they were not fit for ears polite.

  "What!" he cried, when McBain assured him they neither of them cared todrink--"what, a teetotal ship! Why, how the humpty-dumpty do you manageto keep the cold out, then?"

  "Coffee," was the laconic reply.

  "Well, well, well!" said the Greenland captain, filling himself up halfa tumblerful of rum, and drinking it off at one gulp. "But sit down allthe same, and give us all the news."

  That they would, and that they did, and they answered all his questionswith extreme politeness, and were just on the eve of asking him some inreturn anent his own adventures, when that cry, so musical and excitingto the ear of the Greenland whaler, was shouted from the mast-head, andtaken up by those below, and resounded all over the ship from stem tostern, and back again--"A fall! a fall! a fall!"

  The captain sprang to his feet, almost capsizing the bottles in hisexcitement.

  "Hurrah, men! hurrah!" he roared, as he sprang up the companion, "luck'sgoing to turn after all. Hurrah, men! a fall!--yes, a fall in goodearnest! Away, boats! Tumble in, lads! tumble in!"

  Our friends were left in the _Trefoil's_ saloon, all staring in blankastonishment save McBain. "Listen!" said the latter.

  They did, and could hear every now and then three blows struck on thedeck, as if by a sledge-hammer, followed immediately by a sentencebellowed from stentorian lungs, but of which they could only distinguishthe first word and the last. These were "Away!" and "Ahoy!"

  "Whatever is up?" cried Rory at last; "is the ship going down, or haseverybody taken sudden leave of his senses?"

  "There's a whale in sight; that's it!" McBain replied.

  "But what is the knocking?" continued Rory.

  "Oh, that is to awaken the sleepers," explained McBain; "they have noboatswain's pipe in these ships, so they knock with their booted feet.But come, let us go on deck and see the fun."

  The captain met them at the top of the companion.

  "We're off, you see!" he cried, hurriedly. "Come on board and dine withme. I'm going to spear that fish myself; I haven't a harpooner worth adump. Keep in the rear of my boat if you're going to follow, and you'llsee the fun and be in at the death?"

  _In at the death_! Strangely prophetic were the captain's words; ourheroes remembered them afterwards for many a long day.

  "A fall! a fall! Yonder she rips! yonder she spouts! A fall! a fall!"

  The men were tumbling up the hatches--pouring up. You could hardly havebelieved so many men had been below. They ran along the decks andtrundled into the hanging boats like so many monkeys; the tackles arelet go, blocks creak, and one by one they disappear beneath the bulwarksand reach the water, with a flop and a plash that tell of speed andexcitement. And now they are off. The men bend well to their oars,and, encouraged by the shouts of the coxswain and harpooner, they flyover the water--together first, but soon in a line, for it is a race,and the first harpooner that strikes the fish will be well rewarded.

  But where is the whale? Why, yonder; two goodly miles to leeward. Youcan only see three parts of it--black dots above the water; the skull,the back, and the tail tip.

  McBain and his boys were left almost alone, for here were hardly menenough to work the ship, and the silence that had succeeded the noiseand shouting was intense in its gloominess.

  "Come, lads!" cried McBain, "we mustn't stop here; let us see the fun;let us follow the hunt, and be in at the death!"

  The _Snowbird's_ gig was speedily alongside, and in a few minutes morewas bounding over the rippling waters to where the other boats were. Itneeded not McBain's "Give way, my lads! give way with a will!" to makethe men do their utmost. They too were wild with excitement.

  But see, the boats are spreading out; they are no longer together; thewhale has dived, and there is no saying where she may come up. Ten,fifteen, twenty minutes of suspense creep slowly away; the crew of thegig have been lying on their oars. But look! there she is again! herhuge bulk appears in the very midst of the boats. Let her go eitherway, or any way, she is sure of a shot. She makes a dash for it. Bang,bang, bang! from the bows of three of the boats. She is struck--twicestruck--but she but increases her speed, the line goes spinning over thebows; there is blood in her wake, and the men bend now to their oarswith the fury of maniacs. She is badly hurt; she is confused; she stopsfor a moment to lash the water madly with her tail, then dives oncemore. But she cannot sulk long, breathe she must. And the boats stillgo tearing on, and the lines are being coiled in again. The other boatsmove on ahead, too; they want to surround "the fish." One of these isthe captain's boat; they can see his burly form in the bow. Mindful ofhis words, the gig keeps on in her wake.

  "Back astern, men!" cries McBain, as the giant whale rises almost undertheir very bows. "Back, back for your lives!"

  To say that our heroes were astonished at the size and strength of theangry monster, would but poorly express the amount of their surprise.Their hearts seemed to stand still with awe. They were thunderstruck.Ah! and here was thunder too, those awful blows! The sound may be heardmiles and miles away on a still day. I know, reader, of nothing innature that gives one a greater idea of vastness, of strength and power,than a whale's body raised high in air and curved round in the attitudeof striking; the skin seems tightened over, it glitters like a giganticpiston-rod, and it seems trebly powerful. But oh! to be under thatdreadful tail.

  When, awestruck and half-drowned with spray, our heroes managed to lookaround them, the thunder had ceased, the whale was gone; there wereblood and foam in front of them, beyond that the wreck of the captain'sboat. She was so smashed up that she hadn't even sunk; her timbers layall about, and clinging to them the drowning and maimed wretches thathad not been killed outright. The gig and two other boats made haste toassist. In at the death! They were indeed in at the death. Thecaptain was among the slain. His body was found floating, strange tosay, at some considerable distance from the wreck. He seemed in a deepquiet sleep. Alas! it was a sleep from which he would awake no more inthis world.

  And the whale had gone. She had made direct for the island of ice anddived beneath it, and there the lines were cut.

  But hark! adown the wind comes the sound of a signal-gun; a minute goesby, then there is another. All eyes are turned towards the _Trefoil_,and now smoke can be distinctly seen rolling slowly up from her decks,near the bows.

  Once again the signal-gun.

  The _Trefoil_ is on fire!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  OLD SETH BECOMES SURGEON--A TERRIBLE DANGER--RALPH FLOODS THE MAGAZINE--FIGHTING THE FIRE--WRECK OF THE "TREFOIL"--BURIED AT SEA--"LAND HO!"

  The second mate had been left in charge of the _Trefoil_ when the boatsleft the vessel to go in pursuit of the whale. How sadly that pursuitended the reader has already
been told. Besides this officer, when thefire broke out there were only on board the cook, the steward, and threeor four ordinary seamen. Smoke was first seen issuing from the forehold, and, whether for good or for bad, the mate at once ordered thehatches to be battened down, then he hoisted the boat's recall, andcommenced firing minute-guns as a signal of distress.

  It had been a race for wealth with the _Trefoil's_ boats when leavingher. As they sped back again to their burning ship it was a race forlife itself, or at all events for all they held dear in life. Yonder,with the smoke hanging like a dark and ominous cloud over herforecastle, and rolling slowly upwards hiding yards and shrouds, wastheir home upon the waters, the good ship in which they had sailed fromEngland