Fighting the Whales | Page 5

in the still air, passed gently over my head and knocked my hat
off. At any other time I would have thought nothing of this, but Tom's
story had thrown me into such an excited and nervous condition that I
gave a start, missed my footing, uttered a loud cry, and fell down the
ladder right in among the men with a tremendous crash, knocking over
two or three oil-cans and a tin bread-basket in my fall, and upsetting the
lantern, so that the place was instantly pitch-dark.
I never heard such a howl of terror as these men gave vent to when this
misfortune befell me. They rushed upon deck with their hearts in their
mouths, tumbling, and peeling the skin off their shins and knuckles in
their haste; and it was not until they heard the laughter of the watch on
deck that they breathed freely, and, joining in the laugh, called
themselves fools for being frightened by a ghost story. I noticed,
however, that, for all their pretended indifference, there was not one
man among them--not even Tom Lokins himself--who would go down
below to relight the lantern for at least a quarter of an hour afterwards!

Feeling none the worse for my fall, I went forward and leaned over the
bow of the ship, where I was much astonished by the appearance of the
sea. It seemed as if the water was on fire. Every time the ship's bow
rose and fell, the little belt of foam made in the water seemed like a belt
of blue flame with bright sparkles in it, like stars or diamonds. I had
seen this curious appearance before, but never so bright as it was on
that night.
"What is it, Tom?" said I, as my friend came forward and leaned over
the ship's bulwark beside me.
"It's blue fire, Bob," replied Tom, as he smoked his pipe calmly.
"Come, you know I can't swallow that," said I; "everybody knows that
fire, either blue or red, can't burn in the water."
"Maybe not," returned Tom; "but it's blue fire for all that. Leastwise if
it's not, I don't know wot else it is."
Tom had often seen this light before, no doubt, but he had never given
himself the trouble to find out what it could be. Fortunately the captain
came up just as I put the question, and he enlightened me on the
subject.
"It is caused by small animals," said he, leaning over the side.
"Small animals!" said I, in astonishment.
"Aye; many parts of the sea are full of creatures so small and so thin
and colourless, that you can hardly see them even in a clear glass
tumbler. Many of them are larger than others, but the most of them are
very small."
"But how do they shine like that, sir?" I asked.
"That I do not know, boy. God has given them the power to shine, just
as he has given us the power to walk or speak; and they do shine
brightly, as you see; but how they do it is more than I can tell. I think,

myself, it must be anger that makes them shine, for they generally do it
when they are stirred up or knocked about by oars, or ships' keels, or
tumbling waves. But I am not sure that that's the reason either, because,
you know, we often sail through them without seeing the light, though
of course they must be there."
"P'r'aps, sir," said Tom Lokins; "p'r'aps, sir, they're sleepy sometimes,
an' can't be bothered gettin' angry."
"Perhaps!" answered the captain, laughing. "But then again, at other
times, I have seen them shining over the whole sea when it was quite
calm, making it like an ocean of milk; and nothing was disturbing them
at that time, d'ye see."
"I don' know that," objected Tom; "they might have bin a-fightin'
among theirselves."
"Or playing, maybe," said I.
The captain laughed, and, looking up at the sky, said: "I don't like the
look of the weather, Tom Lokins. You're a sharp fellow, and have been
in these seas before; what say you?"
"We'll have a breeze," replied Tom, briefly.
"More than a breeze," muttered the captain, while a look of grave
anxiety overspread his countenance; "I'll go below and take a squint at
the glass."
"What does he mean by that, Tom?" said I, when the captain was gone;
"I never saw a calmer or a finer night. Surely there is no chance of a
storm just now."
"Aye, that shows that you're a young feller, and han't got much
experience o' them seas," replied my companion. "Why, boy,
sometimes the fiercest storm is brewin' behind the greatest calm. An'
the worst o' the thing is that it comes so sudden