Chapter 4. A Seaman's Superstition

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_ CHAPTER FOUR. A SEAMAN'S SUPERSTITION

"RANGER" TAKES A SOUTHERLY COURSE--ALBATROSSES APPEAR ASTERN--HOLT PREPARES HIS RIFLE--MISS MORLEY PLEADS FOR THE BIRDS--HOLT KILLS AN ALBATROSS--A SUPERSTITION OF SEAMEN--THE FATE OF THE ANCIENT MARINER-- MRS RUMBELOW'S OPINIONS ON THE SUBJECT--SERJEANT RUMBELOW--MUSIC HEARD OVER THE OCEAN--A SHIP PASSED AT NIGHT--A HAIL FROM THE "RANGER"-- BLOWING HARD--MRS RUMBELOW COMFORTS THE SICK--THE COLONEL CAUTIONS THE COMMANDER--LOOK-OUT FOR ICEBERGS--THE COLONEL'S WIFE AND DAUGHTERS--THE COLONEL'S PRACTICAL RELIGION--A CALM.

The lofty height of Table Mountain sank lower and lower in the blue ocean as the "Ranger" stood towards the south.

"I propose taking the short circle on our voyage eastward," said Commander Newcombe to Colonel Morley. "We may experience somewhat cold weather; but, at this time of the year we may hope to escape heavy gales, and it is important, with so many men on board, to make a quick passage. If, too, our water should run scarce, we may obtain a supply from the icebergs, with which it is not impossible we may fall in now and then."

"I hope we may not run foul of one," observed Colonel Morley.

"No fear of that, colonel, if we have our eyelids open, and our wits about us," answered the commander of the "Ranger."

The sea was calm, the wind light, and the "Ranger" glided proudly over the smooth sea. The ladies and most of the other passengers were on deck. Two or three of the lieutenants and ensigns brought up their rifles and proposed shooting at the albatrosses, which, with expanded wings, floated around the ship, now rising high in the air, now darting down on the scrapings of the mess tins which had been thrown overboard. Ensign Holt had just loaded his rifle.

"I think I can hit that fellow," he exclaimed, pointing at a magnificent bird which, at the instant, came swooping down near the stern.

"Oh! do not be so cruel," exclaimed Miss Morley, who observed him. "I could not suppose that anybody with right feeling would wish to deprive so beautiful a creature of its joyous existence. How delightful it must be to fly at freedom through the clear blue air, and remain thus, for days and weeks together, away from the heat and dust of the shore."

The ensign reddened, and lowered his weapon from his shoulder, and the albatross swept off to a distance, far out of range of his rifle.

"I was only thinking of the good practice they would give us," he observed; "but your interference, Miss Morley, has saved the bird's life."

"That is to say, Holt, it prevented you from firing," observed Lieutenant Dawson; "it does not follow that the bird would have been the sufferer."

Lieutenant Hickman and Ensign Gonne laughed heartily, for Holt was not celebrated for his shooting. The magnificent birds continued as before, hovering about the ship, not aware of the evil intentions harboured against them by the young officers.

Ensign Holt was nettled, and, notwithstanding Miss Morley's remark, was longing for an opportunity of exhibiting his skill. She soon afterwards went below, when he again prepared, as he said, to bring down an albatross. He and his brother officers, however, fired several shots without producing any effect. A rifle ball at length striking one of the birds, the white feathers were seen flying from its breast; upwards it soared, making several wide circuits, then once more darted towards the surface of the water, apparently not in any way the sufferer.

While the young officers were thus engaged, Commander Newcombe appeared on the poop. "I do not wish to interfere with the amusements of my passengers," he observed; "but we sailors are apt to be superstitious, and we hold to the idea, if one of those magnificent birds is wantonly killed by any one on board a ship, she is sure to meet with some misfortune."

"Why, captain, I do not see that there can be any more harm in killing an albatross than shooting a pheasant," answered Ensign Holt, who was somewhat vexed at being thus a second time interfered with.

"The pheasant, sir, might serve for dinner," observed the commander, "but I do not fancy you would wish to eat an albatross, even should you happen to shoot one, and we could lower a boat and pick it up. I confess I do not like to see the creatures wantonly injured. You may break a leg or wing of one of them, and leave it to suffer and die out in the ocean here; but your rifle balls can scarcely penetrate the bird's thick coat of feathers, unless you get a fair shot at close range, so as to kill it outright."

The young ensign, who did not at all like to be thus thwarted by the commander, had been watching a bird which, bolder than its companions, had more than once swooped close up to the taffrail. Determined to prove that he was not the bad shot it was supposed, he had kept his rifle capped and ready; he lifted it as the commander spoke, and fired. The albatross rose for an instant, and then, with expanded wings, fell heavily into the water, where it was seen struggling in a vain effort to rise.

"You have done for him, old fellow, at all events," cried Lieutenant Dawson.

"Well, Holt, you have retrieved your character," remarked the other ensign.

"I wish that Mr Holt would have listened to my advice," said the commander, turning away annoyed. The young officers were too much engaged watching the poor bird to observe this. In another instant the struggles of the wounded albatross ceased, and immediately several of its companions pounced down upon it, and, ere the ship had run it out of sight, the body was almost torn in pieces.

"Why, it appears that your pets are somewhat ferocious creatures," observed Lieutenant Dawson, pointing out what had occurred to Commander Newcombe, who had again returned aft.

"That is their nature, gentlemen," he replied; "I have an idea, too, that it was implanted in them for a beneficent purpose. Better that the creature should be put out of its pain at once than linger on in agony. If we come to look into the matter, we shall find that every living creature is imbued with certain habits and propensities for a good purpose. I do not hold that anything happens by chance, or that the albatross is unworthy of being treated with humanity, because it acts in what you call a savage way. You will pardon me for being thus plain-spoken, gentlemen; and now Mr Holt has shown his skill by shooting one of those poor birds, I will ask you to favour me by not attempting to kill any more."

Though not over well pleased at the interference of the commander, the young officers, feeling that his rebuke was just, discharged their rifles in the air, and did not again produce them during the voyage.

Willy Dicey and Peter Patch had been on the poop when these remarks had been made. "I say, Dicey, do you suppose that the commander really believes harm will come to the ship because Ensign Holt killed the albatross?" asked Peter, as they took a turn together on the port side of the quarterdeck.

"I should think not," answered Willy. "I do not see what the one thing has to do with the other."

"The sailors say, however, that it is very unlucky to kill an albatross," observed Peter. "They fancy that the souls of people who die at sea fly about in the bodies of albatrosses, I suppose, or something of that sort--I am not quite certain; and for my part I wish that Ensign Holt had been less free with his rifle. I have always thought him a donkey, and donkeys do a good deal of mischief sometimes."

"I will ask Harry Shafto what he thinks about it," said Willy. "I have read a poem about a man who shot an albatross, and all the people died on board, and the ship went floating about till the masts and sails rotted, and he alone remained alive."

"I suppose he lived on the ship's stores then," observed Peter. "He would have had plenty to eat, as there was no one to share the grub with him; but I should not like to have been in his skin. Did he ever get to shore, or how did people come to know it?"

"I think the old hulk reached the land after a good many years," said Willy; "but I am not quite certain about that."

"He must have had a terrible life of it, all alone by himself," said Peter. "I should like to hear more of the story; but, I say, Dicey, are you certain that it is true?"

"No, I rather think it is a poet's fancy, for the story is written in verse," answered Willy.

"Well! that's some comfort," observed Peter; "because, you see, if the same thing was to happen to us, we should all have to die, and Ensign Holt would be the only person left on board the 'Ranger.'"

Harry Shafto soon afterwards coming on deck, the two midshipmen appealed to him for his opinion. Harry laughed heartily.

"I think, however, that those soldier-officers might as well have let the poor birds alone," he observed. "It is a cruel thing to shoot them, but I do not think any further harm will come of it."

Still, neither Peter nor Willy were quite satisfied. "I'll ask Mrs Rumbelow what she thinks about it," said Willy. "She will soon get the opinion of the seamen, and I should not quite like to ask them myself."

As soon as their watch was over, the two midshipmen went below, where they found Mrs Rumbelow seated on a chest, busily employed in darning her husband's stockings, or in some other feminine occupation, as was her wont: Mrs Rumbelow's fingers were never idle.

"Glad to see you, young gentlemen," she said, looking up from her work. "Well, Mr Dicey, you don't look like the same person you were before we reached the Cape; by the time you get home again they won't know you."

"If all goes well with us, perhaps not," said Willy; "but Ensign Holt has gone and killed an albatross, and perhaps, as you know, that is a very dreadful thing to do. They say that evil is sure, in consequence, to come to the ship."

Mrs Rumbelow looked at the faces of her two young visitors. "Do you think seriously that God rules the world in that fashion?" she asked, in a somewhat scornful tone. "Because a foolish young gentleman happens to kill a bird, will He who counts the hairs of our heads allow a number of His creatures, who have nothing to do with the matter, to suffer in consequence. Do not let such nonsense enter your heads, my dears."

"We wanted you, Mrs Rumbelow, to inquire of the seamen what they think about the matter," said Willy.

"I will do no such thing, and that's my answer," replied the sergeant's wife; "harm may come to the ship, but it won't be because of that, or anything of the sort."

Just then Sergeant Rumbelow himself came up: in appearance he was very unlike his wife. Whereas she was tall and thin, he was comparatively short and broad; indeed, though of the regulation height, his width made him appear shorter than he really was; while his countenance, though burnt and tanned by southern suns and exposure to all sorts of weather, was fat and rubicund. He held his sides and laughed so heartily at the account his wife gave him of the questions which had been put to her, that Willy and Peter wished they had not mentioned the subject.

The wind was light and the ship made but little way for several days. Shafto, though only a mate, did duty as a lieutenant. Willy was in his watch; it was the middle watch. Willy enjoyed such opportunities of talking with his friend. The sea was perfectly smooth, there was only wind sufficient just to fill the sails, and the ship was making scarcely three knots through the water. Every now and then a splash was heard; some monster of the deep rose to the surface, and leaping forth, plunged back again into its native element. Strange sounds seemed to come from the far distance. A thick fog arose and shrouded the ship, so that nothing could be seen beyond the bowsprit.

"Keep a bright look-out there, forward," sang out Shafto every now and then, in a clear ringing voice, which kept the watch forward on the alert.

"Hark!" said Willy; "I fancy I heard singing."

"You heard the creaking yards against the masts, perhaps," said Shafto.

"No, I am certain it is singing," exclaimed Willy; "listen!"

Harry and his companion stopped in their walk; even Harry could not help confessing that he heard sweet sounds coming over the water. "Some emigrant ship, perhaps, bound out to Auckland," he observed; "the passengers are enjoying themselves on deck, unwilling to retire to their close cabins. Sounds travel a long distance over the calm waters. She is on our beam, I suspect; but we must take care not to run into each other, in case she should be more on the bow than I suppose." He hailed the forecastle to learn if the look-out could see anything. "Nothing in sight," was the answer. "Keep a bright look-out, then," he shouted. "Ay, ay, sir," came from for'ard.

Soon after this the fog lifted. Far away on the starboard hand the dim outline of a tall ship appeared standing across their course. "She will pass under our stern if she keeps as she is now steering," observed Harry; "the voices we heard must have come from her."

The stranger approached, appearing like some vast phantom floating over the ocean, with her canvas spread on either hand to catch the light wind. "A sail on the starboard beam," shouted the look-out, as he discovered her. It appeared as if she would pass within easy hail, when, just as Harry Shafto had told Willy to get a speaking-trumpet, she appeared to melt into a thin mist.

"What has become of her?" exclaimed Willy, feeling somewhat awe-struck.

"She has run into a bank of fog which we had not perceived," said Shafto; "I will hail her;" and taking the speaking-trumpet, he shouted out, "What ship is that?" No answer came. Again he shouted, "This is Her Majesty's ship 'Ranger.'" All was silent. "Surely I cannot have been deceived," he remarked; "my hail would have been answered if it had been heard." Willy declared that he heard shouts and laughter, but Harry told him that was nonsense, and that undoubtedly the stranger was much further off than he had supposed her to be.

Before the watch was out, Harry had to turn the hands up to shorten sail; a strong breeze was blowing, increasing every instant in violence. Before morning the "Ranger" was ploughing her way through the ocean under close-reefed topsails, now rising to the summit of a sea, now plunged into the trough below. It was Willy's first introduction to anything like a gale of wind.

"Well, Mr Dicey, you have at last got a sight of what the sea can be," said Roger Bolland, the boatswain, with whom Willy was a favourite.

"I have got a feeling, too, of what it can do," answered Willy, who was far from comfortable.

"Don't you go and give in, though, like the soldiers below," said the boatswain; "there are half of them on their backs already, and the gay young ensigns, who were boasting only the other day of what capital sailors they were, are as bad as the men."

Though the whole battalion had been sick, Mrs Rumbelow was not going to knock under. She was as lively and active as ever, going about to the ladies' cabins to assist them into their berths, and secure various articles which were left to tumble about at the mercy of the sea. If the truth must be known, she did not confine her attentions to them alone, but looked in as she passed on the young ensigns, offering consolation to one, handing another a little cold brandy and water, and doing her best to take comfort to all.

At length, after the ship had been tumbled about for nearly ten days, the gale began to abate, the soldiers recovered their legs, though looking somewhat pale and woebegone, and the cabin passengers once more appeared on deck. The weather, however, had by this time become very cold; there was no sitting down, as before, with work or book in hand, to while away the time; the ladies took to thick cloaks, and the military officers in their greatcoats walked the deck with rapid steps, as a matter of duty, for the sake of exercise. Gradually, too, the sea went down, and the "Ranger" glided forward on her course under her usual canvas.

Colonel Morley more than once asked the commander whether they had not by this time got into the latitude where icebergs were to be found. "We keep a sharp look-out for them, colonel, as I promised you," answered the commander. "They are not objects we are likely to run upon while the weather remains clear, and as long as we have a good breeze there is no fear. They are, I confess, awkward customers to fall in with in a thick foe during a calm."

"You may think I am over-anxious, captain," observed the colonel, "but we cannot be too cautious with so many lives committed to our charge; and when I tell you that I was sole survivor of the whole wing of a regiment on board a ship lost by the over-confidence of her commander when I was an ensign, you will not be surprised at my mentioning the subject."

"You are right, colonel, you are right," said Commander Newcombe. "I pray that no such accident will happen to us; but danger must be run, though we who are knocking about at sea all our lives are apt to forget the fact till it comes upon us somewhat suddenly."

Willy Dicey did not find keeping watch at night now quite so pleasant as in warmer latitudes; still, with his pea-coat buttoned well up to his chin, and his cap drawn tightly down over his head, he kept his post bravely on the forecastle, where he now had the honour of being stationed. "He is the most trustworthy midshipman on board," said Mr Tobin, the first-lieutenant. "I can always depend on him for keeping his eyes open, whereas Peter Patch is apt to shut his, and make-believe he is wide awake all the time." This praise greatly encouraged Willy. He determined to do his best and deserve it. Blow high or blow low, he was at his station, never minding the salt sprays which dashed into his eyes, and at times nearly froze there, when the wind blew cold and strong.

The "Ranger" continued her course, making good way, the wind being generally favourable.

The only grumblers among the passengers were three or four of the young lieutenants and ensigns, who, having finished all their novels, and not being addicted to reading works of a more useful description, found the time hang heavily on their hands. They ought to have followed the example of the Miss Morleys and their mother, who were never idle. Very little has hitherto been said about them. They were both very nice girls, without a particle of affectation or nonsense, though they had lived in barracks for some portion of their lives. Fanny, the eldest, was fair, with blue eyes, somewhat _retrousse_ nose, and good figure, and if not decidedly pretty, the expression of her countenance was so pleasing that no one found fault with any of her features. Emma was dark, not quite so tall as her sister, but decidedly handsomer, with hazel eyes and beautifully formed nose and mouth. As yet, perhaps, they had had no opportunity of giving decided proof of any higher qualities they may have possessed, but they were both right-minded, religious girls. Some of the officers pronounced them far too strict, others considered them haughty, and one or two even ventured to pronounce them prudish, because they showed no taste for the frivolous amusements in which the ordinary run of young ladies indulge; not that they objected to dance, or to join in a pleasant pic-nic; indeed, the few who did find fault with them complained only of the way in which they did those things. Ensign Holt, who was not a favourite, whispered that he thought them very deep, and that time would show whether they were a bit better than other people. Neither Fanny nor Emma would have cared much for the opinion of Ensign Holt, even had they been aware of it. He might possibly have been prejudiced, from the fact that Mrs Morley, though very kind and motherly to all the young officers, had found it necessary to encourage him less than the rest. Ensign Holt, and indeed most of his brother officers, had no conception of the principles which guided the Misses Morley or their parents. They looked upon their colonel as not a bad old fellow, though rather slow; but somehow or other he managed to keep his regiment in very good order, and all the men loved him, and looked up to him as to a father. It was his custom to read the Bible every day in his cabin to his wife and daughters; and as there was no chaplain on board, he acted the part of one for the benefit of his men. His sermons were delivered in a fine clear voice, and were certainly not too long for the patience of his hearers; but Ensign Holt insisted that they were too strict: he did not like that sort of theology. Lieutenants Dawson and Hickman were inclined to echo Holt's opinion. Whatever the captains thought, they had the good taste to keep it to themselves. Indeed, Power, the senior captain in the regiment, was suspected of having a leaning toward the colonel's sentiments. No one, however, could say that he was slow or soft: he was known to have done several gallant acts, and was a first-rate officer, a keen sportsman, and proficient in all athletic exercises. It was whispered that Power was the only man likely to succeed with either the Miss Morleys, though, as far as was observed, he paid them no particular attention; indeed, he was not looked upon as a marrying man. He was the only unmarried captain on board. Captain Gosling had left his wife at home; and Mrs Twopenny was in delicate health, and generally kept her cabin. She has not before been mentioned. There were no other ladies on board, but there were several soldiers' wives, with their children, though, altogether, there were fewer women than are generally found in a troop-ship.

A calm unusual for these latitudes had prevailed for several days. Now and then a light wind would come from the northward, just filling the sails, but again dying away; now the ship glided slowly over the smooth water; now she remained so stationary that the chips of wood swept overboard from the carpenter's bench floated for hours together alongside.

Peter Patch asked Willy whether he did not think that the fate which befell the ship of the Ancient Mariner was likely to be theirs.

"I hope not," said Willy; "particularly if the icebergs, which they say are not far off, should get round us, we should find it terribly cold."

"But we should not die of thirst, as the crew of that unfortunate ship did," observed Peter; "that's one comfort."

"Very cold comfort, though," said Willy, who now and then ventured on a joke, if only Peter and some other youngster were within hearing. _

Read next: Chapter 5. "Iceberg Ahead!"

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