The Ocean Waifs Part 32

The blubber was dropped into the sea, close as possible to the carca.s.s of the whale,--the sharks came charging towards it,--nearly twenty of them. The same number, however, did not go back as they had come; for one of them, impaled by the harpoon of Ben Brace, was dragged out of his native element, and hauled up the well-greased incline towards the highest point on the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_.

There, notwithstanding his struggles and the desperate as well as dangerous fluking of his posterior fins, he was soon despatched by the axe, wielded with all the might and dexterity which the Coromantee could command.

Another shark was "hooked," and then despatched in a similar fashion; and then another and another, until Ben Brace believed that enough shark-flesh had been obtained to furnish the _Catamaran_ with stores for the most prolonged voyage.

At all events, they would now have food--such as it was--to last as long as the water with which the hand of Providence alone seemed to have provided them.

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR.

THE THICK WATERS.

The most palatable portions of the sharks' flesh having been stripped from the bones and cut into thin slices, were now to be submitted to a drying, or rather broiling process. This was to be accomplished by a fire of spermaceti.

As already stated, there was no scarcity on the score of this fuel. The "case" of the _cachalot_ contained enough to have roasted all the sharks within a circle of ten mile around it; and, to all appearance, there were hundreds of them inside that circ.u.mference. Indeed, that part of the ocean where the dead whale had been found, though far from any land, is at all times most prolific in animal life. Sometimes the sea for miles around a ship will be seen swarming with fish of various kinds, while the air is filled with birds. In the water may be seen large "schools" of whales, "basking"--as the whalers term it--at intervals, "spouting" forth their vaporous breath, or moving slowly onward,--some of them, every now and then, exhibiting their uncouth gambols. Shoals of porpoises, albacores, bonitos, and other gregarious fishes will appear in the same place,--each kind in pursuit of its favourite prey, while sharks, threshers, and sword-fish, accompanied by their "pilots"

and "suckers," though in lesser numbers, here also abound,--from the very abundance of the species on which these sea-monsters subsist "Flocks" of flying-fish sparkle in the sun with troops of bonitos gliding watchful below, while above them the sky will sometimes be literally clouded with predatory birds,--gulls, b.o.o.bies, gannets, tropic and frigate-birds, albatrosses, and a score of other kinds but little known, and as yet undescribed by the naturalist.

It may be asked why so many creatures of different kinds congregate in this part of the ocean? Upon what do they subsist? what food can they find so far from land?

A ready reply to these questions may be given, by saying, that they subsist upon each other; and this would be, to some extent, true. But then there must be a base forming the food for all, and produced by some process of nature. What process can be going on in the midst of the ocean to furnish the subsistence of such myriads of large and voracious creatures? In the waters of the great deep, apparently so pure and clear, one would think that no growth,--either animal or vegetable, could spring up,--that nothing could come out of nothing. For all this, in that pure, clear water, there is a continual process of production,-- not only from the soil at the bottom of the sea, but the salt-water itself contains the germs of material substances, that sustain life, or become, themselves, living things, by what appears, to our ignorant eyes, spontaneous production.

There is no spontaneity in the matter. It is simply the principle of creation, and acting under laws and by ways that, however ill-understood by us, have existed from the beginning of the world.

It is true that the whole extent of the great oceans are not thus thickly peopled. Vast tracts may be traversed, where both fish and birds of all kinds are extremely scarce; and a ship may sail for days without seeing an individual of either kind. A hundred miles may be pa.s.sed over, and the eye may not be gratified by the sight of a living thing,--either in the water or the air. These tracts may truly be termed the deserts of the sea; like those of the land, apparently uninhabited and uninhabitable.

It may be asked, Why this difference, since the sea seems all alike?

The cause lies not in a difference of depth: for the tracts that teem with life are variable in this respect,--sometimes only a few fathoms in profundity, and sometime unfathomable.

The true explanation must be sought for elsewhere. It will be found not in _depth_, but in _direction_,--in the direction of the currents.

Every one knows that the great oceans are intersected here and there by currents,--often hundreds of miles in breadth, but sometimes narrowing to a width of as many "knots." These oceanic streams are regular, though not regularly defined. They are not caused by mere temporary storms, but by winds having a constant and regular direction; as the "trades" in the Atlantic and Pacific, the "monsoons" in the Indian Ocean, the "pamperos" of South America, and the "northers" of the Mexican Gulf.

There is another cause for these currents, perhaps of more powerful influence than the winds, yet less taken into account. It is the _spinning_ of the earth on its axis. Undoubtedly are the "trades"

indebted to this for their direction towards the west,--the simple centrifugal tendency of the atmosphere. Otherwise, would these winds blow due northward and southward, coming into collision on the line of the equator.

But it is not my purpose to attempt a dissertation either on winds or oceanic streams. I am not learned enough for this, though enough to know that great misconception prevails on this subject, as well as upon that of the _tides_; and that meteorologists have not given due credit to the revolving motion of our planet, which is in truth the princ.i.p.al producer of these phenomena.

Why I have introduced the subject at all is, not because our little book is peculiarly a book of the ocean, but, because that ocean currents have much to do with "Ocean Waifs," and that these last afford the true explanation of the phenomenon first-mentioned,--the fact that some parts of the ocean teem with animal life, while others are as dead as a desert. The currents account for it, thus:--where two of them meet,--as is often the case,--vast quant.i.ties of material substances, both vegetable and animal, are drifted together; where they are held, to a certain extent, stationary; or circling around in great _ocean eddies_.

The wrack of sea-weed,--waifs from the distant sh.o.r.es,--birds that have fallen lifeless into the ocean, or drop their excrement to float on its surface,--fish that have died of disease, violence, or naturally,--for the finny tribes are not exempt from the natural laws of decay and death,--all these organisms, drifted by the currents, meet upon the neutral "ground,"--there to float about, and furnish food to myriads of living creatures,--many species of which are, to all appearance, scarce organised more highly than the decomposed matters that appear first to give them life, and afterwards sustain their existence.

In such tracts of the ocean are found the lower marine animals, in incalculable numbers; the floating sh.e.l.l-fish, as _Janthina_, _Hyalaea_ and _Cleodora_; the sea-lizards, as _Velellae, Porpitae_, and their kindred; the squids, and other molluscs; with myriads of _medusa_.

These are the oceanic regions known to the sailors as "thick waters,"

the favourite resort of the whale and its concomitant creatures, whose food they furnish; the shark, and its attendants; the dolphins, porpoises, sword-fish and flying-fish; with other denizens of the water; and a like variety of dwellers in the air, hovering above the surface, either as the enemies of those below, or aids to a.s.sist them in composing the inscrutable "chain of destruction."

CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE.

A WHALE ON FIRE!

Perhaps we have _drifted_ too far adown the currents of the ocean. From our digression let us return to out special "Waifs." We left them making preparations to roast the shark-flesh,--not in single steaks, but in a wholesale fashion,--as if they had intended to prepare a "fish dinner" for the full crew of a frigate.

As already stated, fuel they had in sufficiency; or, at all events, the best of oil, that would serve as such. The spermaceti could not be readily kindled, nor its blaze kept up, without wicks. But neither was there any difficulty about this. There was a quant.i.ty of old rope trash on the raft, which had been fished up among the wreck of the _Pandora_, and kept in case of an emergency. It needed only to restore this to its original state of tarry fibre, when they would be provided with wick enough to keep the lamp long burning. It was the lamp itself, or rather the cooking furnace, that caused them uneasiness. They had none. The tiny tin vessel that had already served for a single meal would never do for the grand _roti_ they now designed making. With it, along with time and patience, they might have accomplished the task; but time to them was too precious to be so wasted; and as to patience,--circ.u.mstanced as they were, it could scarcely be expected.

They stood in great need of a cooking-stove. There was nothing on board the _Catamaran_ that could be used as a subst.i.tute. Indeed, to have kindled such a fire as they wanted on the raft,--without a proper material for their hearth,--would have seriously endangered the existence of the craft; and might have terminated in a conflagration.

It was a dilemma that had not suggested itself sooner--that is, until the shark-steaks had been made ready for roasting. Then it presented itself to their contemplation in full force, and apparently without any loophole to escape from it.

What was to be done for a cooking-stove?

s...o...b..ll sighed as he thought of his caboose, with all its paraphernalia of pots and pans,--especially his great copper, in which he had been accustomed to boil mountains of meat and oceans of pea-soup.

But s...o...b..ll was not the individual to give way to vain regrets,--at least, not for long. Despite that absence of that superior intellect,-- which flippant gossips of so-called a "Social Science" delight in denying to his race, themselves often less gifted than he,--s...o...b..ll was endowed with rare ingenuity,--especially in matters relating to the _cuisine_, and in less than ten minutes after the question of a cooking-stove had been started, the Coromantee conceived the idea of one that might have vied with any of the various "patents" so loudly extolled by the ironmongers, and yet not so effective when submitted to the test. At all events, s...o...b..ll's plan was suited to the circ.u.mstances in which its contriver was placed; and perhaps it was the only one which the circ.u.mstances would have allowed.

Unlike other inventors, the Coromantee proclaimed the plan of his invention as soon as he had conceived it.

"Wha' for?" he asked, as the idea shaped itself in his skull,--"wha' for we trouble 'bout a pot fo' burn de oil?"

"What for, Snowy!" echoed the sailor, turning upon his interrogator an expectant look.

"Why we no make de fire up hya?"

The conversation was carried on upon the back of the whale,--where the sharks had been butchered and cut up.

"Up here!" again echoed the sailor, still showing surprise. "What matter whether it be up here or down theear, so long's we've got no vessel,--neyther pot nor pan?"

"Doan care a dam fo' neyder," responded the ex-cook. "I'se soon show ye, Ma.s.s' Brace, how we find vessel, big 'nuff to hold all de oil in de karkiss ob de ole cashlot, as you call him."

"Explain, n.i.g.g.e.r, explain!"

"Sartin I do. Gib me dat axe. I soon 'splain de whole sark.u.mstance."

Ben pa.s.sed the axe, which he had been holding, into the hands of the Coromantee.

The latter, as he had promised, soon made his meaning clear, by setting to work upon the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_, and with less than a dozen blows of the sharp-edged tool hollowing out a large cavity in the blubber.

"Now, Ma.s.s' Brace," cried he, when he had finished, triumphantly balancing the axe above his shoulder, "wha' you call dat? Dar's a lamp hold all de oil we want set blaze. You d'sire me 'crow' de hole any wida or deepa, I soon make 'im deep's a draw-well an' wide as de track ob a waggon. Wha' say, Ma.s.s' Brace?"

"Hurraw for you, Snowy! It be just the thing. I dar say it's deep enough, and wide as we'll want it. You ha got good brains, n.i.g.g.e.r,-- not'ithstanding what them lubbers as they call filosaphurs say. I'm a white, an' niver thought o' it. This'll do for the furness we want.

Nothin' more needed than to pour the sparmacety into it, chuck a bit o'

oak.u.m on the top, an' set all ablaze. Let's do it, and cook the wittles at once."

The cavity, which s...o...b..ll had "crowed" in the carca.s.s of the whale was soon filled with oil taken from the case. In this was inserted with due care a quant.i.ty of the fibre, obtained by "picking" the old ropes into oak.u.m.

A crane was next erected over the cavity,--a handspike forming one support and an oar the other. The crane itself consisted of the long iron arrow and socket of one of the harpoons found in the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_.