The World of Ice | Page 2

last asleep at night; he always answered promptly to
the first call; and was never known by any man living to have been

seen with his eyes shut, except when he winked, and that operation he
performed less frequently than other men.
John Buzzby was an old salt--a regular true-blue Jack tar of the old
school, who had been born and bred at sea; had visited foreign ports
innumerable; had weathered more storms than he could count, and had
witnessed more strange sights than he could remember. He was tough,
and sturdy, and grizzled, and broad, and square, and massive--a
first-rate specimen of a John Bull, and according to himself, "always
kept his weather-eye open." This remark of his was apt to create
confusion in the minds of his hearers; for John meant the expression to
be understood figuratively, while, in point of fact, he almost always
kept one of his literal eyes open and the other partially closed, but as he
reversed the order of arrangement frequently, he might have been said
to keep his lee-eye as much open as the weather one. This peculiarity
gave to his countenance an expression of earnest thoughtfulness
mingled with humour. Buzzby was fond of being thought old, and he
looked much older than he really was. Men guessed his age at fifty-five,
but they were ten years out in their reckoning; for John had numbered
only forty-five summers, and was as tough and muscular as ever he had
been--although not quite so elastic.
John Buzzby stood on the pier of the sea-port town of Grayton
watching the active operations of the crew of a whaling-ship which was
on the point of starting for the ice-bound seas of the Frozen Regions,
and making sundry remarks to a stout, fair-haired boy of fifteen, who
stood by his side gazing at the ship with an expression of deep sadness.
"She's a trim-built craft and a good sea-boat, I'll be bound, Master
Fred," observed the sailor; "but she's too small by half, accordin' to my
notions, and I have seen a few whalers in my day. Them bow-timbers,
too, are scarce thick enough for goin' bump agin the ice o' Davis' Straits.
Howsom'iver, I've seen worse craft drivin' a good trade in the Polar
Seas."
"She's a first-rate craft in all respects; and you have too high an opinion
of your own judgment," replied the youth indignantly. "Do you suppose
that my father, who is an older man than yourself and as good a sailor,

would buy a ship, and fit her out, and go off to the whale-fishery in her,
if he did not think her a good one?"
"Ah! Master Fred, you're a chip of the old block--neck or
nothing--carry on all sail till you tear the masts out of her! Reef the
t'gallant sails of your temper, boy, and don't run foul of an old man who
has been all but a wet-nurse to ye--taught ye to walk, and swim, and
pull an oar, and build ships, and has hauled ye out o' the sea when ye
fell in--from the time ye could barely stump along on two legs, lookin'
like as if ye was more nor half-seas-over."
"Well, Buzzby," replied the boy, laughing, "if you've been all that to
me, I think you have been a _wet_-nurse too! But why do you run
down my father's ship? Do you think I'm going to stand that? No! not
even from you, old boy."
"Hallo! youngster," shouted a voice from the deck of the vessel in
question, "run up and tell your father we're all ready, and if he don't
make haste he'll lose the tide, so he will, and that'll make us have to
start on a Friday, it will, an' that'll not do for me, nohow it won't; so
make sail and look sharp about it, do--won't you?"
"What a tongue he's got!" remarked Buzzby. "Before I'd go to sea with
a first mate who jawed like that I'd be a landsman. Don't ever you git to
talk too much, Master Fred, wotever ye do. My maxim is--and it has
served me through life, uncommon--'Keep your weather-eye open and
your tongue housed 'xcept when you've got occasion to use it.' If that
fellow'd use his eyes more and his tongue less, he'd see your father
comin' down the road there, right before the wind, with his old sister in
tow."
"How I wish he would have let me go with him!" muttered Fred to
himself sorrowfully.
"No chance now, I'm afeard," remarked his companion. "The gov'nor's
as stiff as a nor'-wester. Nothin' in the world can turn him once he's
made up his mind but a regular sou'-easter. Now, if you had been my
son, and yonder tight craft my ship, I would have