“Well,” said the captain, “what do you want?”
“What do I want?” said the man, laying hold of the ladder. “I’m a-going to embark4 in this here ship — that’s what I want.”
“Not with all that fat on you,” roared the captain. “You don’t weigh an ounce less than eighteen stone, and I’ve got to have in my anchor yet. You wouldn’t have me leave the anchor, I suppose?”
The man said he did not care about the anchor — he was just as God had made him (he looked as if his cook had had something to do with it) and, sink or swim, he purposed embarking5 in that ship. A good deal of wrangling6 ensued, but one of the sailors finally threw the man a cork7 life-preserver, and the captain said that would lighten him and he might come abroad.
This was Captain Abersouth, formerly8 of the Mudlark— as good a seaman9 as ever sat on the taffrail reading a three volume novel. Nothing could equal this man’s passion for literature. For every voyage he laid in so many bales of novels that there was no stowage for the cargo10. There were novels in the hold, and novels between-decks, and novels in the saloon, and in the passengers’ beds.
The Camel had been designed and built by her owner, an architect in the City, and she looked about as much like a ship as Noah’s Ark did. She had bay windows and a veranda11; a cornice and doors at the water-line. These doors had knockers and servant’s bells. There had been a futile12 attempt at an area. The passenger saloon was on the upper deck, and had a tile roof. To this humplike structure the ship owed her name. Her designer had erected13 several churches — that of St. Ignotus is still used as a brewery14 in Hotbath Meadows — and, possessed15 of the ecclesiastic16 idea, had given the Camel a transept; but, finding this impeded17 her passage through the water, he had it removed. This weakened the vessel amidships. The mainmast was something like a steeple. It had a weathercock. From this spire18 the eye commanded one of the finest views in England.
Such was the Camel when I joined her in 1864 for a voyage of discovery to the South Pole. The expedition was under the “auspices” of the Royal Society for the Promotion19 of Fair Play. At a meeting of this excellent association, it had been “resolved” that the partiality of science for the North Pole was an invidious distinction between two objects equally meritorious20; that Nature had marked her disapproval21 of it in the case of Sir John Franklin and many of his imitators; that it served them very well right; that this enterprise should be undertaken as a protest against the spirit of undue22 bias23; and, finally, that no part of the responsibility or expense should devolve upon the society in its corporate24 character, but any individual member might contribute to the fund if he were fool enough. It is only common justice to say that none of them was. The Camel merely parted her cable one day while I happened to be on board — drifted out of the harbor southward, followed by the execrations of all who knew her, and could not get back. In two months she had crossed the equator, and the heat began to grow insupportable.
Suddenly we were becalmed. There had been a fine breeze up to three o’clock in the afternoon and the ship had made as much as two knots an hour when without a word of warning the sails began to belly26 the wrong way, owing to the impetus27 that the ship had acquired; and then, as this expired, they hung as limp and lifeless as the skirts of a clawhammer coat. The Camel not only stood stock still but moved a little backward toward England. Old Ben the boatswain said that he’d never knowed but one deader calm, and that, he explained, was when Preacher Jack28, the reformed sailor, had got excited in a sermon in a seaman’s chapel29 and shouted that the Archangel Michael would chuck the Dragon into the brig and give him a taste of the rope’s -end, damn his eyes!
We lay in this woful state for the better part of a year, when, growing impatient, the crew deputed me to look up the captain and see if something could not be done about it. I found him in a remote cobwebby corner between-decks, with a book in his hand. On one side of him, the cords newly cut, were three bales of “Ouida”; on the other a mountain of Miss M.E. Braddon towered above his head. He had finished “Ouida” and was tackling Miss Braddon. He was greatly changed.
“Captain Abersouth,” said I, rising on tiptoe so as to overlook the lower slopes of Mrs. Braddon, “will you be good enough to tell me how long this thing is going on?”
“Can’t say, I’m sure,” he replied without pulling his eyes off the page. “They’ll probably make up about the middle of the book. In the meantime old Pondronummus will foul30 his top-hamper and take out his papers for Looney Haven31, and young Monshure de Boojower will come in for a million. Then if the proud and fair Angelica doesn’t luff and come into his wake after pizening that sea lawyer, Thundermuzzle, I don’t know nothing about the deeps and shallers of the human heart.”
I could not take so hopeful a view of the situation, and went on deck, feeling very much discouraged. I had no sooner got my head out than I observed that the ship was moving at a high rate of speed!
We had on board a bullock and a Dutchman. The bullock was chained by the neck to the foremast, but the Dutchman was allowed a good deal of liberty, being shut up at night only. There was bad blood between the two — a feud32 of long standing33, having its origin in the Dutchman’s appetite for milk and the bullock’s sense of personal dignity; the particular cause of offense34 it would be tedious to relate. Taking advantage of his enemy’s afternoon siesta35, the Dutchman had now managed to sneak36 by him, and had gone out on the bowsprit to fish. When the animal waked and saw the other creature enjoying himself he straddled his chain, leveled his horns, got his hind37 feet against the mast and laid a course for the offender38. The chain was strong, the mast firm, and the ship, as Byron says, “walked the water like a thing of course.”
After that we kept the Dutchman right where he was, night and day, the old Camel making better speed than she had ever done in the most favorable gale39. We held due south.
We had now been a long time without sufficient food, particularly meat. We could spare neither the bullock nor the Dutchman; and the ship’s carpenter, that traditional first aid to the famished40, was a mere25 bag of bones. The fish would neither bite nor be bitten. Most of the running-tackle of the ship had been used for macaroni soup; all the leather work, our shoes included, had been devoured41 in omelettes; with oakum and tar42 we had made fairly supportable salad. After a brief experimental career as tripe43 the sails had departed this life forever. Only two courses remained from which to choose; we could eat one another, as is the etiquette44 of the sea, or partake of Captain Abersouth’s novels. Dreadful alternative! — but a choice. And it is seldom, I think, that starving sailormen are offered a shipload of the best popular authors ready-roasted by the critics.
We ate that fiction. The works that the captain had thrown aside lasted six months, for most of them were by the best-selling authors and were pretty tough. After they were gone — of course some had to be given to the bullock and the Dutchman — we stood by the captain, taking the other books from his hands as he finished them. Sometimes, when we were apparently45 at our last gasp46, he would skip a whole page of moralizing, or a bit of description; and always, as soon as he clearly foresaw the déno?ement— which he generally did at about the middle of the second volume — the work was handed over to us without a word of repining.
The effect of this diet was not unpleasant but remarkable47. Physically48, it sustained us; mentally, it exalted49 us; morally, it made us but a trifle worse than we were. We talked as no human beings ever talked before. Our wit was polished but without point. As in a stage broadsword combat, every cut has its parry, so in our conversation every remark suggested the reply, and this necessitated50 a certain rejoinder. The sequence once interrupted, the whole was bosh; when the thread was broken the beads51 were seen to be waxen and hollow.
We made love to one another, and plotted darkly in the deepest obscurity of the hold. Each set of conspirators52 had its proper listener at the hatch. These, leaning too far over would bump their heads together and fight. Occasionally there was confusion amongst them: two or more would assert a right to overhear the same plot. I remember at one time the cook, the carpenter, the second assistant-surgeon, and an able seaman contended with handspikes for the honor of betraying my confidence. Once there were three masked murderers of the second watch bending at the same instant over the sleeping form of a cabin-boy, who had been heard to mutter, a week previously53, that he had “Gold! gold!” the accumulation of eighty — yes, eighty — years’ piracy54 on the high seas, while sitting as M.P. for the borough55 of Zaccheus-cum-Down, and attending church regularly. I saw the captain of the foretop surrounded by suitors for his hand, while he was himself fingering the edge of a packing-case, and singing an amorous56 ditty to a lady-love shaving at a mirror.
Our diction consisted, in about equal parts, of classical allusion57, quotation58 from the stable, simper from the scullery, cant59 from the clubs, and the technical slang of heraldry. We boasted much of ancestry60, and admired the whiteness of our hands whenever the skin was visible through a fault in the grease and tar. Next to love, the vegetable kingdom, murder, arson61, adultery and ritual, we talked most of art. The wooden figure-head of the Camel, representing a Guinea nigger detecting a bad smell, and the monochrome picture of two back-broken dolphins on the stern, acquired a new importance. The Dutchman had destroyed the nose of the one by kicking his toes against it, and the other was nearly obliterated62 by the slops of the cook; but each had its daily pilgrimage, and each constantly developed occult beauties of design and subtle excellences63 of execution. On the whole we were greatly altered; and if the supply of contemporary fiction had been equal to the demand, the Camel, I fear, would not have been strong enough to contain the moral and ?sthetic forces fired by the maceration64 of the brains of authors in the gastric66 juices of sailors.
Having now got the ship’s literature off his mind into ours, the captain went on deck for the first time since leaving port. We were still steering67 the same course, and, taking his first observation of the sun, the captain discovered that we were in latitude68 83° south. The heat was insufferable; the air was like the breath of a furnace within a furnace. The sea steamed like a boiling cauldron, and in the vapor69 our bodies were temptingly parboiled — our ultimate meal was preparing. Warped70 by the sun, the ship held both ends high out of the water; the deck of the forecastle was an inclined plane, on which the bullock labored71 at a disadvantage; but the bowsprit was now vertical72 and the Dutchman’s tenure73 precarious74. A thermometer hung against the mainmast, and we grouped ourselves about it as the captain went up to examine the register.
“One hundred and ninety degrees Fahrenheit75!” he muttered in evident astonishment76. “Impossible!” Turning sharply about, he ran his eyes over us, and inquired in a peremptory77 tone, “who’s been in command while I was runnin’ my eye over that book?”
“Well, captain,” I replied, as respectfully as I knew how, “the fourth day out I had the unhappiness to be drawn78 into a dispute about a game of cards with your first and second officers. In the absence of those excellent seamen79, sir, I thought it my duty to assume control of the ship.”
“Killed ’em, hey?”
“Sir, they committed suicide by questioning the efficacy of four kings and an ace65.”
“Well, you lubber, what have you to say in defense80 of this extraordinary weather?”
“Sir, it is no fault of mine. We are far — very far south, and it is now the middle of July. The weather is uncomfortable, I admit; but considering the latitude and season, it is not, I protest, unseasonable.”
“Latitude and season!” he shrieked81, livid with rage —“latitude and season! Why, you junk-rigged, flat-bottomed, meadow lugger, don’t you know any better than that? Didn’t yer little baby brother ever tell ye that southern latitudes82 is colder than northern, and that July is the middle o’ winter here? Go below, you son of a scullion, or I’ll break your bones!”
“Oh! very well,” I replied; “I’m not going to stay on deck and listen to such low language as that, I warn you. Have it your own way.”
The words had no sooner left my lips, than a piercing cold wind caused me to cast my eye upon the thermometer. In the new régime of science the mercury was descending83 rapidly; but in a moment the instrument was obscured by a blinding fall of snow. Towering icebergs84 rose from the water on every side, hanging their jagged masses hundreds of feet above the masthead, and shutting us completely in. The ship twisted and writhed85; her decks bulged86 upward, and every timber groaned87 and cracked like the report of a pistol. The Camel was frozen fast. The jerk of her sudden stopping snapped the bullock’s chain, and sent both that animal and the Dutchman over the bows, to accomplish their warfare88 on the ice.
Elbowing my way forward to go below, as I had threatened, I saw the crew tumble to the deck on either hand like ten-pins. They were frozen stiff. Passing the captain, I asked him sneeringly89 how he liked the weather under the new régime. He replied with a vacant stare. The chill had penetrated90 to the brain, and affected91 his mind. He murmured:
“In this delightful92 spot, happy in the world’s esteem93, and surrounded by all that makes existence dear, they passed the remainder of their lives. The End.”
His jaw94 dropped. The captain of the Camel was dead.
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1
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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6
wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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8
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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13
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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14
brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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bias
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| n.偏见，偏心，偏袒；vt.使有偏见 | |
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corporate
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| adj.共同的，全体的；公司的，企业的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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siesta
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| n.午睡 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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tripe
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| n.废话，肚子, 内脏 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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48
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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49
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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50
necessitated
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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53
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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54
piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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55
borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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56
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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59
cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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60
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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arson
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| n.纵火，放火 | |
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62
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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63
excellences
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| n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 )；（只用于所修饰的名词后）杰出的；卓越的；出类拔萃的 | |
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maceration
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| n.泡软，因绝食而衰弱 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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gastric
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| adj.胃的 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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68
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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71
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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73
tenure
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| n.终身职位；任期；(土地)保有权，保有期 | |
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74
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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75
Fahrenheit
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| n./adj.华氏温度；华氏温度计(的) | |
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76
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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78
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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79
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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80
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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81
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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83
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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84
icebergs
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| n.冰山，流冰( iceberg的名词复数 ) | |
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85
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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87
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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88
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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89
sneeringly
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| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
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90
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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92
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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93
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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94
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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