Norse Tales and Sketches | Page 9

go ashore and slip the cables!'
There was gladness and bustle among the crew, and the preparations
proceeded so rapidly that in less than an hour the brig was under
canvas.
The skipper looked at the steersman and shook his head, muttering,
'This is the devil's own haste.'
After a few little turns in the spacious harbour, the brig passed the
headland and stood out to sea. A fresh breeze was blowing, and the
waves ran rather high.
The steersman, with a prodigious twist in his mouth, stood astride the
tiller, for such a piece of devil's trumpery as a wheel should never come
on board as long as he had anything to say in the matter.
The skipper stood on the cabin stairs, with his head above the
companion. His face was of a somewhat greenish hue, and he
frequently ran down into the cabin. The old boatswain believed that he
went to look at the chart, the young man thought he drank whisky, but
the cabin-boy swore that he went below to vomit.
The men were in excellent spirits; it was so refreshing to breathe the
sea air, and to feel the ship once again moving under their feet. Indeed,
the old brig herself seemed to be in a good humour; she dived as deep
down between the seas as she could, and raised much more foam than

was necessary.
The young sailors looked out for heavy seas. 'Here comes a whopper,'
they shouted; 'if it would only hit us straight!' And it did.
It was a substantial sea, larger than the others. It approached
deliberately, and seemed to lie down and take aim. It then rose
suddenly, and gave the brig, which was chubby as a cherub, such a
mighty slap on the port cheek that she quivered in every timber. And
high over the railing, far in upon the deck, dashed the cold salt spray;
the captain had scarcely time to duck his head below the companion.
Ah, how refreshing it was! It exhilarated both old and young; they had
not had a taste of the cold sea-water for a long time, and with one voice
the whole crew broke into a lusty 'Hurrah!'
But at this moment the steerman's stentorian voice rang out: 'Hard to
leeward!' The brig luffed up close to the wind, the sails flapped so
violently that the rigging shook, and now followed in rapid succession,
even quicker than before, orders to anchor. 'Let fall the port anchor! Let
go the starboard one too!'
Plump--fell the one; plump--went the other. The old chains rattled out,
and a little red cloud of rust rose up on either side of the bowsprit.
The men, accustomed to obey, worked rapidly without thinking why,
and the brig soon rode pretty quietly at her two anchors.
But now, after the work was finished, no one could conceal his
astonishment at this sudden anchoring, just off the coast, among islets
and skerries. And still more extraordinary seemed the behaviour of
those in command. For they both stood right forward, with their backs
to the weather, leaning over the railing and staring at the port bow.
Some had even thought they had heard the captain cry, 'To the pumps,
men,' but this point was never cleared up.
'What the devil can they be doing forward?' said the rash young man.
'They think she struck on a reef when we shipped the big sea,'
whispered the cabin-boy.
'Hold your jaw, boy!' said the boatswain.
All the same, the cabin-boy's words passed from mouth to mouth; a
little chuckle was heard here and there; the men's faces became more
and more ludicrously uneasy, and their suppressed laughter was on the
point of bursting forth. Then the steersman was seen to nudge the
skipper in the side.

'Yes; but then you must whisper to me,' said the latter.
The steersman nodded, and then the skipper turned to the crew and
solemnly spoke as follows:
'Yes, this time, fortunately, everything went well; but now I hope that
each of you will have learnt how dangerous it is to lend an ear to these
juvenile agitators, who can never be quiet and let evolution, as the
steersman says, pursue its natural course. I yielded to your wishes this
time, it is true, but not because I approved of your insane rashness; it
was simply that I might convince you by--by the logic of events. And
see--how did things go? Certainly we have, as by a miracle, been
spared the worst; but now we lie here, outside our safe haven, our old
anchorage, which we have forsaken to be tossed about on the turbulent
waters of the unknown and the untried. But, believe me, henceforth you
will find both our excellent steersman and your captain at our