<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419040" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Amber Whale</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WE were down in the Indian Ocean, after sperm, and three years out; <br>The last six months in the tropics, and looking in vain for a spout,— <br>Five men up on the royal yards, weary of straining their sight; <br>And every day like its brother,—just morning and noon and night—<br>Nothing to break the sameness: water and wind and sun <br>Motionless, gentle, and blazing,—never a change in one. <br>Every day like its brother: when the noonday eight-bells came,<br>'Twas like yesterday; and we seemed to know that to-morrow would be the same. <br>The foremast hands had a lazy time: there was never a thing to do; <br>The ship was painted, tarred down, and scraped; and the mates had nothing new. <br>We'd worked at sinnet and ratline till there wasn't a yarn to use, <br>And all we could do was watch and pray for a sperm whale's spout—or news. <br>It was whaler's luck of the vilest sort; and, though many a volunteer <br>Spent his watch below on the look-out, never a whale came near,—<br>At least of the kind we wanted: there were lots of whales of a sort,— <br>Killers and finbacks, and such like, as if they enjoyed the sport<br>Of seeing a whale-ship idle; but we never lowered a boat <br>For less than a blackfish, —there's no oil in a killer's or finback's coat. <br>There was rich reward for the look-out men,—tobacco for even a sail, <br>And a barrel of oil for the lucky dog who'd be first to 'raise' a whale. <br>The crew was a mixture from every land, and many a tongue they spoke; <br>And when they sat in the fo'castle, enjoying an evening smoke, <br>There were tales told, youngster, would make you stare—stories of countless shoals <br>Of devil-fish in the Pacific and right-whales away at the Poles. <br>There was one of these fo'castle yarns that we always loved to hear,—<br>Kanaka and Maori and Yankee; all lent an eager ear <br>To that strange old tale that was always new,—the wonderful treasure-tale <br>Of an old Down-Eastern harpooneer who had struck an Amber Whale! <br>Ay, that was a tale worth hearing, lad: if 'twas true we couldn't say, <br>Or if 'twas a yarn old Mat had spun to while the time away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It's just fifteen years ago,' said Mat, 'since I shipped as harpooneer<br>On board a bark in New Bedford, and came cruising somewhere near<br>To this whaling-ground we're cruising now; but whales were plenty then,<br>And not like now, when we scarce get oil to pay for the ship and men.<br>There were none of these oil wells running then,—at least, what shore folk term <br>An oil well in Pennsylvania,—but sulphur-bottom and sperm <br>Were plenty as frogs in a mud-hole, and all of 'em big whales, too;<br>One hundred barrels for sperm-whales; and for sulphur-bottom, two. <br>You couldn't pick out a small one: the littlest calf or cow <br>Had a sight more oil than the big bull whales we think so much of now. <br>We were more to the east, off Java Straits, a little below the mouth,— <br>A hundred and five to the east'ard and nine degrees to the south; <br>And that was as good a whaling-ground for middling-sized, handy whales<br>As any in all the ocean; and 'twas always white with sails <br>From Scotland and Hull and New England,—for the whales were thick as frogs,<br>And 'twas little trouble to kill 'em then, for they lay as quiet as logs. <br>And every night we'd go visiting the other whale-ships 'round, <br>Or p'r'aps we'd strike on a Dutchman, calmed off the Straits, and bound<br>To Singapore or Batavia, with plenty of schnapps to sell <br>For a few whale's teeth or a gallon of oil, and the latest news to tell. <br>And in every ship of that whaling fleet was one wonderful story told,— <br>How an Amber Whale had been seen that year that was worth a mint of gold.<br>And one man—mate of a Scotchman—said he'd seen, away to the west, <br>A big school of sperm, and one whale's spout was twice as high as the rest;<br>And we knew that that was the Amber Whale, for we'd often heard before <br>That his spout was twice as thick as the rest, and a hundred feet high or more. <br>And often, when the look-out cried, 'He blows!' the very hail <br>Thrilled every heart with the greed of gold,—for we thought of the Amber Whale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But never a sight of his spout we saw till the season there went round,<br>And the ships ran down to the south'ard to another whaling-ground. <br>We stayed to the last off Java, and then we ran to the west, <br>To get our recruits at Mauritius, and give the crew a rest. <br>Five days we ran in the trade winds, and the boys were beginning to talk<br>Of their time ashore, and whether they'd have a donkey-ride or a walk, <br>And whether they'd spend their money in wine, bananas, or pearls, <br>Or drive to the sugar plantations to dance with the Creole girls. <br>But they soon got something to talk about. Five days we ran west-sou'-west, <br>But the sixth day's log-book entry was a change from all the rest; <br>For that was the day the mast-head men made every face turn pale, <br>With the cry that we all had dreamt about,—'He Blows! The Amber Whale!'<br>And every man was motionless, and every speaker's lip <br>Just stopped as it was, with the word half-said: there wasn't a Sound in the ship <br>Till the Captain hailed the masthead, 'Whereaway is the whale you see?' <br>And the cry came down again, 'He blows! about four points on our lee,<br>And three miles off, sir,—there he blows! he's going to leeward fast!' <br>And then we sprang to the rigging, and saw the great whale at last!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ah! shipmates, that was a sight to see: the water was smooth as a lake, <br>And there was the monster rolling, with a school of whales in his wake. <br>They looked like pilot-fish round a shark, as if they were keeping guard; <br>And, shipmates, the spout of that Amber Whale was high as a sky-sail yard. <br>There was never a ship's crew worked so quick as our whalemen worked that day,— <br>When the captain shouted,' Swing the boats, and be ready to lower away!' <br>Then, 'A pull on the weather-braces, men! let her head fall off three points!' <br>And off she swung, with a quarter-breeze straining the old ship's joints. <br>The men came down from the mastheads; and the boat's crews stood on the rail,<br>Stowing the lines and irons, and fixing paddles and sail. <br>And when all was ready we leant on the boats and looked at the Amber's spout, <br>That went up like a monster fountain, with a sort of a rumbling shout,<br>Like a thousand railroad engines puffing away their smoke. <br>He was just like a frigate's hull capsized, and the swaying water broke <br>Against the sides of the great stiff whale: he was steering south-by-west, — <br>For the Cape, no doubt, for a whale can shape a course as well as the best. <br>We soon got close as was right to go; for the school might hear a hail,<br>Or see the bark, and that was the last of our Bank-of-England Whale.<br>'Let her luff,' said the Old Man, gently. 'Now, lower away, my boys, <br>And pull for a mile, then paddle,—and mind that you make no noise.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'A minute more, and the boats were down; and out from the hull of the bark<br>They shot with a nervous sweep of the oars, like dolphins away from a shark. <br>Each officer stood in the stern, and watched, as he held the steering oar, <br>And the crews bent down to their pulling as they never pulled before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Our Mate was as thorough a whaleman as I ever met afloat; <br>And I was his harpooneer that day, and sat in the bow of the boat. <br>His eyes were set on the whales ahead, and he spoke in a low, deep tone, <br>And told the men to be steady and cool, and the whale was all our own. <br>And steady and cool they proved to be: you could read it in every face,<br>And in every straining muscle, that they meant to win that race. <br>'Bend to it, boys, for a few strokes more,—bend to it steady and long! <br>Now, in with your oars, and paddles out,—all together, and strong!' <br>Then we turned and sat on the gunwale, with our faces to the bow; <br>And the whales were right ahead,—no more than four ships' lengths off now. <br>There were five of 'em, hundred-barrelers, like guards round the Amber Whale. <br>And to strike him we'd have to risk being stove by crossing a sweeping tail;<br>But the prize and the risk were equal. 'Mat,' now whispers the Mate, <br>'Are your irons ready?' 'Ay, ay, sir.' 'Stand up, then, steady, and wait <br>Till I give the word, then let 'em fly, and hit him below the fin <br>As he rolls to wind'ard. Start her, boys! now's the time to slide her in! <br>Hurrah! that fluke just missed us. Mind, as soon as the iron's fast,<br>Be ready to back your paddles,—now in for it, boys, at last. <br>Heave! Again!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And two irons flew: the first one sank in the joint, <br>'Tween the head and hump,—in the muscle; but the second had its point <br>Turned off by striking the amber case, coming out again like a bow, <br>And the monster carcass quivered, and rolled with pain from the first deep blow. <br>Then he lashed the sea with his terrible flukes, and showed us many a sign <br>That his rage was roused. 'Lay off,' roared the Mate, ' and all keep clear of the line!' <br>And that was a timely warning, for the whale made an awful breach <br>Right out of the sea; and 'twas well for us that the boat was beyond the reach <br>Of his sweeping flukes, as he milled around, and made for the Captain's boat,<br>That was right astern. And, shipmates, then my heart swelled up in my throat <br>At the sight I saw: the Amber Whale was lashing the sea with rage, <br>And two of his hundred-barrel guards were ready now to engage<br>In a bloody fight, and with open jaws they came to their masters aid. <br>Then we knew the Captain's boat was doomed; but the crew were no whit afraid,— <br>They were brave New England whalemen,—and we saw the harpooneer <br>Stand up to send in his irons, as soon as the whales came near. <br>Then we heard the Captain's order, 'Heave!' and saw the harpoon fly, <br>As the whales closed in with their open jaws: a shock, and a stifled cry <br>Was all that we heard; then we looked to see if the crew were still afloat,— <br>But nothing was there save a dull red patch, and the boards of the shattered boat!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But that was no time for mourning words: the other two boats came in, <br>And one got fast on the quarter, and one aft the starboard fin <br>Of the Amber Whale. For a minute he paused, as if he were in doubt <br>As to whether 'twas best to run or fight. 'Lay on!' the Mate roared out,<br>‘And I'll give him a lance!' The boat shot in; and the Mate, when he saw his chance<br>Of sending it home to the vitals, four times he buried his lance. <br>A minute more, and a cheer went up, when we saw that his aim was good; <br>For the lance had struck in a life-spot, and the whale was spouting blood! <br>But now came the time of danger, for the school of whales around <br>Had aired their flukes, and the cry was raised, 'Look out! they're going to sound!'<br>And down they went with a sudden plunge, the Amber Whale the last, <br>While the lines ran smoking out of the tubs, he went to the deep so fast. <br>Before you could count your fingers, a hundred fathoms were out; <br>And then he stopped, for a wounded whale must come to the top and spout.<br>We hauled slack line as we felt him rise; and when he came up alone, <br>And spouted thick blood; we cheered again, for we knew he was all our own. <br>He was frightened now, and his fight was gone,—right round and round he spun, <br>As if he was trying to sight the boats, or find the best side to run. <br>But that was the minute for us to work: the boats hauled in their slack, <br>And bent on the drag-tubs over the stern to tire and hold him back. <br>The bark was five miles to wind'ard, and the mate gave a troubled glance <br>At the sinking sun, and muttered, 'Boys, we must give him another lance, <br>Or he'll run till night; and, if he should head to windward in the dark, <br>We'll be forced to cut loose and leave him, or else lose run of the bark.<br>'So we hauled in close, two boats at once, but only frightened the whale; <br>And, like a hound that was badly whipped, he turned and showed his tail, <br>With his head right dead to wind'ard; then as straight and as swift he sped <br>As a hungry shark for a swimming prey; and, bending over his head,<br>Like a mighty plume, went his bloody spout. Ah, shipmates, that was a sight<br>Worth a life at sea to witness! In his wake the sea was white <br>As you've seen it after a steamer's screw, churning up like foaming yeast; <br>And the boats went hissing along at the rate of twenty knots at least. <br>With the water flush with the gunwhale, and the oars were all apeak, <br>While the crews sat silent and quiet, watching the long, white streak <br>That was traced by the line of our passage. We hailed the bark as we passed, <br>And told them to keep a sharp look-out from the head of every mast; <br>'And if we're not back by sundown,' cried the Mate, 'you keep a light <br>At the royal cross-trees. If he dies, we may stick to the whale all night.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And past we swept with our oars apeak, and waved oar hands to the hail <br>Of the wondering men on the taffrail, who were watching our Amber Whale <br>As he surged ahead, just as if he thought he could tire his enemies out;<br>I was almost sorrowful, shipmates, to see after each red spout <br>That the great whale's strength was failing: the sweep of his flukes grew slow, <br>Till at sundown he made about four knots, and his spout was weak and low. <br>Then said the Mate to his boat's crew: 'Boys, the vessel is out of sight <br>To the leeward: now, shall we cut the line, or stick to the whale all night?' <br>'We'll stick to the whale!' cried every man. 'Let the other boats go back <br>To the vessel and beat to wind'ard, as well as they can, in our track.'<br>It was done as they said: the lines were cut, and the crews cried out, 'Good speed!' <br>As we swept along in the darkness, in the wake of our monster steed, <br>That went plunging on, with the dogged hope that he'd fire his enemies still,— <br>But even the strength of an Amber Whale must break before human will. <br>By little and little his power had failed as he spouted his blood away, <br>Till at midnight the rising moon shone down on the great fish as he lay <br>Just moving his flukes; but at length he stopped, and raising his square, black head <br>As high as the topmast cross-trees, swung round and fell over—dead!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And then rose a shout of triumph,—a shout that was more like a curse <br>Than an honest cheer; but, shipmates, the thought In our hearts was worse, <br>And 'twas punished with bitter suffering. We claimed the whale as our own, <br>And said that the crew should have no share of the wealth that was ours alone. <br>We said to each other: We want their help till we get the whale aboard, <br>So we'll let 'em think that- they'll have a share till we get the Amber stored, <br>And then we'll pay them their wages, and send them ashore—or afloat, <br>If they show their temper. Ah! shipmates, no wonder 'twas that boat <br>And its selfish crew were cursed that night. Next day we saw no sail, <br>But the wind and sea were rising. Still, we held to the drifting whale,—<br>And a dead whale drifts to windward,—going farther away from the ship,<br>Without water, or bread, or courage to pray with heart or lip <br>That had planned and spoken the treachery. The wind blew into a gale, <br>And it screamed like mocking laughter round our boat and the Amber Whale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'That night fell dark on the starving crew, and a hurricane blew next day;<br>Then we cut the line, and we cursed the prize as it drifted fast away,<br>As if some power under the waves were towing it out of sight;<br>And there we were, without help or hope, dreading the coming night.<br>Three days that hurricane lasted. When it passed, two men were dead;<br>And the strongest one of the living had not strength to raise his head,<br>When his dreaming swoon was broken by the sound of a cheery hail,<br>And he saw a shadow fall on the boat,—it fell from the old bark's sail!<br>And when he heard their kindly words, you'd think he should have smiled<br>With joy at his deliverance; but he cried like a little child,<br>And hid his face in his poor weak hands,—for he thought of the selfish plan,—<br>And he prayed to God to forgive them all. And, shipmates, I am the man! —<br>The only one of the sinful crew that ever beheld his home;<br>For before the cruise was over, all the rest were under the foam.<br>It's just fifteen years gone, shipmates,' said old Mat, ending his tale;<br>'And I often pray that I'll never see another Amber Whale.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Boyle+O%27Reilly">John Boyle O'Reilly</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419040" data-title="The Amber Whale de John Boyle O'Reilly" data-description="WE were down in the Indian Ocean, after sperm, and three years out; The last six months in the tropics, and looking in vain for a spout,— Five men up on the royal yards, weary of straining their sight; And every day like its brother,—just m..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black