“Not now,” replied the old whaleman, “We’ve gotter git busy. Mebbe ’long arter dinner I’ll spin ye a yarn.”
All through the first day the men were busy preparing the implements and getting things ready for slaughtering and trying out the sea elephants. Spades were sharpened and placed in readiness; the big boiling kettles were brought out and the try-works built; the casks were arranged for filling; the killing clubs were selected and with everything prepared for the killing to begin the following day, the men sat down to a hearty meal of sea elephants’ tongues and liver, baked beans and plum duff, while the boys and Cap’n Pem dined on some delicious fresh fish which one of the men had caught, with fresh crabs and craw fish from among the rocks of the shore.
When the meal was over, the boys insisted on the mate keeping his promise to tell them the story he had mentioned and after a few objections, the old man gave in and lighting his pipe, while everybody gathered about and listened, he began.
“Wall,” said the old whaleman, “I was sayin’ to ye boys that I knowed o’ whalemen rowin’ over three thousan’ miles in their boats, but I reckon I’d oughter ha’ said I’d heard on ’em. But I hev knowed o’ whalemen a-rowin’ more’n a thousan’ miles, and what’s more, I wuz boy on the ship what picked ’em up in the end, so ye’ll hev to b’lieve this ’ere yarn ’cause it’s true as is, an’ I kin swear to it. Hows’ever I calc’late I’d better begin at the beginnin’ an’ not git all aback an’ in stays an’ afoul o’ my own hawse by beginnin’ tail en’ fust. ’Twas ’long back in ’59, purty long spell ago, an’ the bark _Janet_, hailin’ from Westport, was a-cruisin’ fer sparm in the Pacific ’long ’bout the equator an’ ’bout a hundred an’ ten west. Eve’ything’d been a-goin’ fust rate an’ one o’ the boats made fast to a bull whale late in the arternoon and by the time he’d spouted blood an’ turned fin-up, ’twas purty near night. Wall, they got their fluke-chain round the critter all right an’ was a startin’ to pull him to the _Janet_, what was hull down, when a heavy sea caught the boat jes’ right an’ capsized her. ’Course ’twan’t much trouble to right her, but everything they had was lost—kag o’ water, biscuits, compass, lantern an’ all fittin’s—an’ while the crew got her right side up in a jiffy they couldn’t bail her out ’cause o’ the bucket an’ bailer bein’ gone. An’ I tell ye, ’tain’t no picnic tryin’ to keep a water-filled boat right side up in a heavy sea an’ blowin’ a holy gale. Some reason or t’other the ship hadn’t seen ’em an’ they couldn’t signal the bark, an’ to keep the boat from capsizin’ again they lashed the oars ’crost her an’ worked her over ’longside the dead whale and done their best to tip her up an’ dump the water outen her. But ’twan’t no ’arthly use count o’ heavy seas a-breakin’ over ’em an’ at last they give up and started a paddlin’ their way toward the _Janet’s_ lights what was vis’ble. They kep’ at it all night, an’ come mornin’, they found as they was farther off than before, so knowin’ they was jus’ usin’ of their strength for nothin’ they let her drift. Nex’ mornin’ the wind let up a mite an’ the sea went down, an’ the men managed somehow to capsize the boat an’ git her back on her keel with a bit less water in her, but while they was a-doin’ of it, one was drownded. Jes’ recollec’ that for forty-eight hours these chaps hadn’t had nary a drop o’ water nor a bite to eat and had been a-lyin’ in salt water up ter their armpits and ye can’t blame two more on ’em fer goin’ crazy. Derned if ’tain’t a wonder they didn’t all go mad. There they was, driftin’ about in the middle o’ the Pacific jes’ under the line without nothin’ to eat or drink an’ the nearest lan’, Cocos Islan’, more’n a thousan’ miles away. Not one o’ the crew was strong enough to pull oar, but by workin’ like blazes they managed for to tear out the boat’s ceilin’ and lashed it up like a sort o’ sail an’ started off afore the wind.