that a taste for wandering and a fondness for thesea had been engendered early in the breast of each of the boys.
It was this, I'm sure, that caused them once to write home to theirrespective parents, informing them that the 250-ton brig, _HighlandDonald_, was to sail in a fortnight for Norway and the Baltic, and thatthe skipper had offered to take them if they could obtain permission.
Permission had been granted, and having been provided with suits ofrough warm clothing, they had embarked one fine spring morning, andsailed away for the cold north.
Now, if any young reader thinks he would like to be a sailor, and hasbeen led to believe, from books or otherwise, that a seaman's life isone of unmitigated pleasure and general jollity, let him induce hisfather or guardian to place him on a grain, tar, or timber ship boundfor Norway or the Baltic. If, after a month or two of such a life, hestill believes in the joys of a seaman's existence, let him join themerchant service forthwith, but I fear there are few lads who would comeup smiling after so severe a test.
Our heroes, however, had stood this test, though they had roughed it inno ordinary way. True, they had been all but shipwrecked on aniron-bound coast, where no boat could have lived a minute; they had beenin gale of wind after gale of wind; their provisions and fare had beenof the coarsest; their beds were always wet or damp, and sometimes thecold had been intense, depressing, benumbing to both mind and body.
But their long voyage north had made sailors of them for all that, andthat is saying a very great deal. It had proved of what mettle theywere made, and given them confidence in themselves.
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This is the first voyage, then, in which Leonard and Douglas have trodthe deck as officers, and I do not deny that both are just a trifleproud of their position, although they feel fully the weight ofresponsibility the buttons have brought. They certainly took but littlepride in the uniform which they wore, as some weak-minded lads wouldhave done, albeit handsome they both had looked, as they sat at table onthat last night at Grayling House. So, at all events, Leonard's motherand poor Effie thought. The latter had done little else but cry all theday, that is, whenever she could get a chance of doing so unseen. Thiswas the second time only that her brother and brother's friend had beenhome since they went to sea for good. They had stayed at home for awhole month, and now were bound on a perilous cruise indeed, sailing faraway to Arctic seas, Captain Blunt's ship having been chosen to takestores and provisions out to Greenland for vessels employed in findingout the North-West Passage.
Something had seemed to whisper to Effie that she would never see herdarling brother again. So no wonder her heart had been sad, and hereyes red with weeping, as our heroes left; or that a gloom, like thegloom of the grave, had fallen on Grayling House, as soon as they weregone.
Great old Ossian had come and put his head on her lap, and gazing upinto her face with those brown speaking eyes of his, and his lovinglooks of pity, almost broke her heart. The tears had come fast enoughthen.
The _Fairy Queen_ had sailed from Leith. Both parents had accompaniedtheir sons thus far, and blessed them and given them Bibles each (it isa way they have in Scotland on such occasions), and bade them a heartygood-bye.
Yes, it was a hearty good-bye to all outward appearance, but there was alump in Leonard's throat all the same that he had a good deal ofdifficulty in swallowing; and as soon as the _Fairy Queen_ was out ofsight, the two fathers had left the pier--not side by side, remark we,but one in front of the other, Indian-file fashion. Why not side byside? Well, for this reason. There was a moisture in Major Fitzroy'seyes, that, being a man, he was somewhat ashamed of, so he stumped onahead, that Captain Lyle might not notice his weakness; and between youand me, reader, Captain Lyle, for some similar reason, was not sorry. Ihope you quite understand it.
However, here on this beautiful summer's night, with a gentle beam windblowing from the westward, we find our friends on deck. There is acrowd of sail on her, and the ship lies away to the west of the ShetlandIslands. They do not mean to touch there, so give the rocks a goodoffing.
Save for the occasional flapping of the sails or a footstep on deck,there is not a sound to break the solemn stillness.
They did encounter a gale of wind, however, shortly after leaving Leith,but the good ship stood it well, and it had not lasted long.
"I say, old fellow," said Leonard, "hadn't you better turn in? I thinkI would if I had a chance."
"No, I don't feel sleepy; I'm more inclined to continue our pleasantchat. Pleasant chat on a pleasant night, with every prospect of apleasant voyage, eh?"
"I think so. Of course good weather cannot last for ever."
"No, and then there is the ice."
"Well, now, I'm not afraid of that. Remember, I superintended thefortifying of the ship, and you could hardly believe how solid we are.But of course ice will go through anything."
"So I've heard, and we saw some bergs while coming round the Horn--didn't we?--that I wouldn't care to be embraced between."
"Not unless the ship were made of indiarubber, and everybody in it."
"I wonder how all are at Grayling House to-night. Poor sister Effie!Didn't she cry! I'm afraid old Peter was croaking a bit. He is quiteone of the family, you know, but very old-wifeish and crotchety, andthinks himself quite an old relation of father's. Then there is thatridiculous superstition about the pike."
"Yes, do you know the story?"
"Yes, and I may relate it some evening, perhaps, what little story thereis; though it is only ridiculous nonsense. But look! what is that?"
"Why, a shoal of porpoises, but they are just like fishes of fire."
"Phosphorescence. These seas on some summer nights are all alive withit. What a lovely sight! Strange life the creatures lead! I wonder dothey ever sleep? Heigho! talking of sleep makes me think of my hammock.I believe I will turn in now, though it is really a pity to go below onso lovely a night. Ta, ta. Take care of us all.
"_A Dios_, Leonard."
Yes, it was indeed a lovely night; but, ah! quickly indeed do scene andweather change at sea.
Book 2--CHAPTER THREE.
ON THE WINGS OF A WESTERLY GALE.
"And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong; He struck with his o'ertaking wings And chased us north along. And the ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And northward ay we flew."
Coleridge.
Scene: A ship on her beam ends, not far off the coast of Norway, theseas all around her houses high; their tops cut short off by the forceof the wind, and the spray driven over the seemingly doomed ship, likethe drift in a moorland snowstorm. The sky is clear, there is a yellowglare in the west where the sun went down. A full moon riding high in ayellow haze.
A gale of wind got out of its cave--for according to the ancients thewinds do live in a cave. It was a gale from the west, with somethingsoutherly in it, and I feel nearly sure, from the rampancy with which itroared, from the vigour with which it blew, and the capers it cut, thatthis gale of wind must have taken French leave of its cave.
It seemed to rejoice in its freedom, nevertheless. No schoolboy justescaped from his tasks was ever more full of freaks and mischief.
It came hallooing over the Atlantic Ocean, and every ship it met had todo honour to it on the spot, by furling sails, or even laying to underbare poles.
If these sails were quickly taken in by men who moved in a pretty andsprightly fashion, all right--the gale went on. But if lubbers went towork aloft, or the wheel was badly handled--then "Pah!" the wind wouldcry, "_I'll_ shorten sail for you," and away would go the sails inribbons, cracking like half a million cart-whips, and perhaps a stick atthe same time, a topmast or yard, and if a man or two were lost, thewind took neither blame nor further notice.
The gale came tearing up Channel, and roaring across the Irish Sea, andlucky indeed were those ships that managed to put back and get safelyinto h
arbour, where the storm could only scream vindictively through theempty rigging.
The gale went raging over towns and cities, doing rare damage amongstalks and spires, ripping and rolling lead off roofs, and tossing thetiles about as one deals cards at whist. It swept along thethoroughfares, too, having fine fun with the unfortunate passengers whohappened to be abroad, rending top coats and skirts, running off withthe hats of old fogies, and turning umbrellas inside out.
The gale came shrieking over the country, changing a point or two moreto the south'ard, so as to shake the British Islands from aft to fore.It picked up great clouds as it went northwards ho! and mixed them alltogether, so that when it descended on the vale of the Tweed, it camewith thunderclap and lightning's flash, and a darkness that could almostbe felt. It tore through the woods and forests, overturning vast rocks,and uprooting mighty