The Red Eric | Page 9

and there."
"Is it good?" inquired Ailie.
"Oh, ain't it!" remarked Mr Rokens, who had just concluded Number 6, and felt his self-possession somewhat restored. "Yes, miss, it is; but it ain't equal to whale's-brain fritters, it ain't; them's first-chop."
"Have whales got brains?" inquired Miss Martha, in surprise.
"Brains!" echoed Miss Jane, in amazement.
"Yes, madam, they 'ave," answered the first mate, who had hitherto maintained silence, but having finished tea was now ready for any amount of talk; "and what's more remarkable still, they've got several barrels of oil in their skulls besides."
"Dear me!" exclaimed the sisters.
"Yes, ladies, capital oil it is, too; fetches a 'igher price hin the markit than the other sort."
"By the bye, Millons, didn't you once fall into a whale's skull, and get nearly drowned in oil?" inquired the doctor.
"I did," answered the first mate, with the air of a man who regarded such an event as a mere trifle, that, upon consideration, might almost be considered as rather a pleasant incident than otherwise in one's history.
"Nearly drowned in oil!" exclaimed the sisters, while Ailie opened her eyes in amazement, and Mr Rokens became alarmingly purple in the face with suppressed chuckling.
"It's true," remarked Rokens, in a hoarse whisper to Miss Martha, putting his hand up to his mouth, the better to convey the sound to her ears; "I seed him tumble in, and helped to haul him out."
"Let's have the story, Millons," cried the captain, pushing forward his cup to be replenished; "It's so long since I heard it, that I've almost forgotten it. Another cup o' tea, Martha, my dear--not quite so strong as the last, and three times as sweet. I'll drink `Success to the cup that cheers, but don't inebriate.' Go ahead, Millons."
Nothing rejoiced the heart of Mr Millons more than being asked to tell a story. Like most men who are excessively addicted to the habit, his stories were usually very long and very dry; but he had a bluff good-natured way of telling them, that rendered his yarns endurable on shore, and positively desirable at sea. Fortunately for the reader, the story he was now requested to relate was not a long one.
"It ain't quite a story," he began--and in beginning he cleared his throat with emphasis, thrust his thumbs into the arm-holes of his vest, and tilted his chair on its hind-legs--"it ain't quite a story; it's a hanecdote, a sort of hincident, so to speak, and this is 'ow it 'appened:--
"Many years ago, w'en I was a very young man, or a big boy, I was on a voyage to the South Seas after whales. Tim Rokens was my messmate then, and has bin so almost ever since, off, and on." (Mr Rokens nodded assent to this statement.) "Well, we came up with a big whale, and fixed an iron cleverly in him at the first throw--"
"An iron?" inquired Miss Martha, to whose mind flat and Italian irons naturally occurred.
"Yes, madam, an iron; we call the 'arpoons irons. Well, away went the fish, like all alive! not down, but straight for'ard, takin' out the line at a rate that nearly set the boat on fire, and away we went along with it. It was a chase, that. For six hours, off and on, we stuck to that whale, and pitched into 'im with 'arpoons and lances; but he seemed to have the lives of a cat--nothin' would kill 'im. At last the 'arpooner gave him a thrust in the life, an' up went the blood and water, and the fish went into the flurries, and came nigh capsizin' the boat with its tail as it lashed the water into foam. At last it gave in, and we had a four hours' pull after that, to tow the carcase to the ship, for there wasn't a cat's-paw of wind on the water.
"W'en we came alongside, we got out the tackles, and before beginning to flense (that means, ma'am, to strip off the blubber), we cut a hole in the top o' the skull to get out the oil that was there; for you must know that the sperm-whale has got a sort of 'ollow or big cavern in its 'ead, w'ich is full o' the best oil, quite pure, that don't need to be cleared, but is all ready to be baled out and stowed away in casks. Well, w'en the 'ole was cut in its skull I went down on my knees on the edge of it to peep in, when my knees they slipped on the blubber, and in I went 'ead-foremost, souse into the whale's skull, and began to swim for life in the oil.
"Of course I began to roar for 'elp like a bull, and Rokens there, 'oo 'appened to be near, 'e let down the hend of