The South Sea Whaler | Page 6

which

had swallowed even a greater number. Indeed, they are the chief foes of
the flying-fish, which, had not the latter the power of rising out of the
water to escape them, would quickly be exterminated.
Some of the officers got out lines and hooks baited with pieces of pork;
not to attract fish, however, but to catch some of the numerous birds
flying astern and round the ship. Several flights of stormy petrels had
long been following in the wake of the ship, with other birds,--such as
albatrosses, cape-pigeons, and whale-birds. No sooner did a pigeon see
the bait than it pounced down and seized it in its mouth, when a sharp
tug secured the hook in its bill, and it was rapidly drawn on board.
Several stormy petrels, which the sailors call "Mother Carey's
chickens," were also captured. They are among the smallest of the
web-footed birds, being only about six inches in length. Most of the
body is black, glossed with bluish reflections; their tails are of a
sooty-brown intermingled with white. In their mode of flight, Walter
remarked that they resembled swallows: rapidly as they darted here and
there, now resting on the wing, now rising again in the air; uttering
their clamorous, piercing cries, as they flocked together in increasing
numbers.
"We shall have rough weather before long, or those birds would not
shriek so loudly," observed Jacob to Walter. "I don't mind a few of
them; but when they come in numbers about a ship, it is a sure sign of a
storm."
"We have had so much fine weather, that I suppose it is what we may
expect," answered Walter. "We cannot hope to make a long voyage
without a gale now and then!"
"It is not always the case," said the mate. "I have been round the world
some voyages with scarcely a gale to speak of; and at other times we
have not been many weeks together without hard weather."
Though the stormy petrel shrieked, the wind still remained moderate,
and the sailors continued their bird-catching and fishing.
Among those who most eagerly followed the cruel sport was Tom Hulk,

the boatswain's mate. He had got a long line and a strong hook, which
he threw overboard from the end of the main-yard.
"I don't care for those small birds," he cried out. "I have made up my
mind to have one of the big albatrosses. I want his wings to carry home
with me, and show what sort of game we pick up at sea."
Several of his messmates, who had a superstitious dread of catching an
albatross, shouted out to him not to make the attempt, declaring that he
would bring ill-luck to himself, or perhaps to the ship. Though not free
from superstition himself, he persevered from very bravado.
"I am not to be frightened by any such notions," he answered scornfully.
"If I can catch an albatross I will, and wring his neck too."
Before long, a huge white albatross, with wide-extended wings, which
had been hovering about the ship, espying the bait darted down and
swallowed it at a gulp, hook and all. In an instant it was secured, and
the bold seaman came running in along the yard to descend on deck;
while the bird, rising in the air, endeavoured to escape. Its efforts were
in vain; for several other men aiding Hulk, in spite of its struggles it
was quickly drawn on board. Even then it fought bravely, though
hopelessly, for victory; but its captor despatched it with a blow on the
head.
"It would have been better for you if you had let that bird enjoy its
liberty," said the boatswain with a growl. "I have never seen any good
come from catching one of them."
"Did you ever see any harm come?" innocently asked Walter, who had
come forward to look at the bird.
"As to that, youngster, it's not to every question you will get an
answer," growled the boatswain, turning away. Walter, though liked by
most on board, was not a favourite of the surly boatswain, who, for his
own reasons, objected to have the keen eyes of the sharp-witted boy
observing his proceedings.

Walter, begging Hulk to stretch out the bird's wings, went to bring
Alice to look at it. He told her what the boatswain had said about the
ill-luck which would pursue those who killed an albatross.
"Depend on it, God would not allow what He has ordained to be
interfered with by any such occurrence," observed the captain to his
children. "It may be a cruel act to kill a bird without any reason; but
though persons who have caught or shot albatrosses may afterwards
have met with accidents, it does not at all follow that such is the