It had been a week to be remembered. A whirl of racing2 from ship to shop, and from shop to factory—of urging and beseeching3 on my part, of excuses and protestations on the part of tradesmen and manufacturers. I had been almost despairing at last in the matter of material for the balloon bag, when one morning—it was the fourth day—I heard of a very large completed balloon, made to order for an aeronaut whose old one had missed connection with it by one day. When they had come to deliver 60it, the undertaker was just driving off, and the aeronaut had made his farewell ascension.
I found it to be of really enormous proportions—one of the largest ever manufactured, I was told—so large, in fact, that the maker4 was as glad to part with it as I was to secure it.
My associates also had been somewhat occupied. Mr. Sturritt’s delivery teams had been lined up on the Billowcrest dock from morning till night, unloading provisions in various forms, enough it would seem for an army. Ferratoni had laid in his cells, coils, transmitters, detectors5 and heaven only knows what besides, while Miss Gale6 had undertaken to supply, in addition to her own requirements, the warm clothing and bedding likely to be needed for an Antarctic winter.
As for Chauncey Gale, he had sat all day at a little table on the afterdeck and signed checks; checks, many of them, that would have wrecked7 my former commercial venture at any time during the ten years of its existence; and he whistled as he did it, and called out words of comfort to Captain Biffer, who, with a fierce eye on each end of the vessel8, strode up and down where boxes, barrels, rolls, rope, chains, etc., were piled or still coming over the side—rending the Second Commandment into orders and admonitions that would have turned a clergyman gray in a night.
61Now it was all over. The weird9 maelstrom10 of whirling days and nights that had added unreality to what was already dreamlike and impossible, had subsided11. We were going down the harbor under full sail. Leaving the others still at breakfast, I had come out here alone to find myself.
I could not grasp it at all. The little farm boy who in the night had wakened and cried for the sea, going back to it, at last. The youth who had carried into manhood the fancy of a fair unknown land, and of one day sailing away to the South to find it, entering suddenly into an Aladdin-like realization12 of his dreams. It seemed to me that every vessel in the harbor ought to be decorated and firing salutes13—that every soul of the vast city ought to be waving us adieu.
To be sure, we hadn’t told anybody. Gale was rather down on the papers, and we had left so suddenly that they had little chance to find out what we were doing. One of them—that of the millionaire editor—got an inkling of it in some way, and in its Sunday Magazine of two days before had filled a page with strange vagaries14 purporting15 to be our plans, and disturbing pictures of the lands and people we expected to discover. But as no one ever believes anything printed in a Sunday newspaper, even when backed up by sworn statements, these things appeared to have passed unnoticed. 62There had been one exception, however; my scientist of the snark and flipper16, who had appeared on Monday morning to enter his promised protest.
He came at a busy time. About a hundred teams were backing into each other on the dock, whence arose a medley17 of unjoyous execration18, and a line of men were waiting at Gale’s little table for checks. It was this auspicious19 moment that my scientist selected for his mission. Captain Biffer, to whom he first appealed, acknowledged him with an observation which no magazine would print, and waved him toward Gale.
“There’s the man you want,” he snorted, “that man over there giving his money away.”
Chauncey Gale was at that moment engaged in constructing a check that ran well into four figures. He paused, however, with his hand on the way to the ink-bottle and listened for a moment with proper respect. Then he said, quite serenely20:
“I wonder if you couldn’t conveniently go to hell for about three years. Perhaps by then I’ll have time to listen to you. You notice we’re pretty busy, this morning.”
I smiled now, recalling how the human seal had flopped21 backwards22 over a box of cod-fish and narrowly missed pitching overboard in his anxiety to get ashore23. There had been no further interference, and no offered encouragement. We were 63leaving it all behind, now; the narrow, busy, indifferent world. There were no salutes, and if there were any flags, or waving, I did not see them. Nobody had been down to see us off, and impudent24 tugs25 steamed by and splashed water at us, just as if we were going out for a day’s sail, and would be back in time for the roof gardens.
Somewhat later I was joined by Edith Gale. It is customary to say “as fresh as the morning,” when referring to a fair woman at such a time, but, rare as the morning was, I could not have paid it a finer tribute than to have compared it to Edith Gale.
She came forward and leaned over at the other side of the bow-sprit.
“How pretty the little rainbow is this morning,” she said, looking down.
“Yes, I have been accepting it as an omen of success.”
Edith Gale laughed.
“I hope it doesn’t mean that we are pursuing a rainbow. We never quite capture it, you see.”
“I have been called a rainbow chaser all my life,” I answered, a little sadly.
“I suppose there is always some rainbow just ahead of us all,” she mused26. “Even if we find the South Pole, and all the things we expect there, then something else will come to wish for and look forward to.”
64“I am sure of it,” I answered fervently27, “I——”
Her father’s warning recurred28 to me opportunely29. We were not yet out of the harbor, and I did not wish to be set ashore at Sandy Hook.
“There is the ocean,” she said presently, “the Atlantic Ocean. How I love it!”
We had already caught the slight swell30 from the sea. The added exhilaration of it filled me with exultant31 joy. I stood up and drew in a deep breath of the salt ambrosia32.
“Oh,” I said, “it is wine—nectar! It is my birthright—I have always known that I should come back to it, some day!”
Instinctively33 we turned for a last look at the harbor we were leaving. Farther down the deck Ferratoni was pointing out some landmark34 to Chauncey Gale, while from the bridge Captain Biffer was taking a silent and solemn farewell of the sky-scrapers of Manhattan. Mr. Sturritt presently came out of the cabin, beaming, and looked out to sea. The land had no further attraction for him. Our provision and the materials for his tablets were safely on board.
We faced seaward again. We were through the Narrows now, and the swell was much stronger, a long steady swing. I heard the Captain give a word of command to the helmsman and noticed that we were turning to the southward. A shoreless expanse of ocean lay ahead.
65“I should think all this would appear like a dream to you,” said Edith Gale. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll wake up?”
“I have been trying to find something to convince me that I am awake,” I said.
“How splendid it was that Papa took up with your plans. You know he has all sorts of things brought to him. A man came to him not long ago with some scheme for buying stocks that he said would pay a hundred per cent. a week on the investment. Papa gave him a dollar, and told him that if his theory was correct he didn’t need any partner, for the dollar would make him rich in six months.”
The pitch of the vessel became stronger. Then, too, it was not always regular. Sometimes it swung off a bit to one side, and just when I felt that it ought to lift us buoyantly and sustainingly it would disappoint me by sinking away beneath us—falling down-hill, as it were—or it would change its mind at the last minute and conclude to fall down some other hill, or perhaps give up the notion altogether. I grew discontented and wished it wouldn’t do these things. There was a bit of tarred lashing36 on the bow-sprit near us. In the harbor the smell of it had been fine and inspiring, but it did not attract me any more. It had become rather obnoxious37, in fact, and I moved a little to 66one side to avoid it. Neither did I feel inclined to laugh at Edith Gale’s story. Somehow it did not seem altogether in good taste. Perhaps she was disappointed, for she referred to my own plans.
“And to think that Papa should believe in you from the start. He said he had never seen any one so much in earnest about anything as you were in your determination to find the South Pole.”
“Yes—oh, yes,” I admitted weakly, “I was in earnest, of course—but——”
The ship gave a peculiar38 roll and the salt spray came flying up from below. Some of it got into my mouth. It took away any remaining interest I may have had in Miss Gale’s conversation. I did not care for the South Pole, either, and the rainbow of promise had become a mockery. I remembered a particularly steady bit of rock in one of my father’s meadows. As a child this rock had been the ship on which I had voyaged through billowing seas of grass. I would have been willing now to give all my interest in both poles, the ship, and even in Miss Gale herself, to cruise once more for five minutes on that rock.
Edith Gale wiped the water from her own face, laughing merrily.
“I love the sea spray,” she said gaily39, “can you taste the gold in it?”
I shook my head miserably40.
67“A man came to Papa, once, with a scheme to extract the gold from it,” she ran on. “Papa told him that there was so much water that he guessed he’d wait till the patent on the process became public, or ran out. Do you suppose there really is gold in it?”
I could not answer immediately.
“Do you suppose there is?” she repeated, and I thought there was a note of injury in her voice.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I groaned41 wretchedly, “but I know what will be there, pretty soon, if this ship doesn’t stand still!”
She turned a startled face toward me. She said afterwards that all the colors of the ocean were reflected in mine. She had been ready to laugh at first, but her expression became one of compassion42.
“Oh,” she said, “I never thought, I am such a good sailor—and the bow is the very worst place for that. You must go back amid-ships. You are seasick—I am sure of it!”
“So am I,” I gasped43, “and I am also sure, now, that I am not dreaming!”
I stumbled feebly back to a steamer-chair and looked out on the horizon that one instant sank far below the rail, and the next, lifted as far above it. Between lay the tossing sea—my heritage. That which my ancestors had lived and died for. I did not blame them for dying—I was willing to 68do that, myself. Chauncey Gale came along just then.
“I’ve got a great scheme for the balloon boat,” he began, “a combination wind and water propeller44. Ferratoni can supply the power, and——”
He caught my expression just then and the words died in his throat.
“Hello,” he laughed, “you’ve got ’em, haven’t you? Storm last week left it a little rough. Do you always get sick this way at sea?”
“I—yes—I don’t know. It—it’s my first experience.”
Gale regarded me with an amazement45 that was akin35 to respect.
“Oh, Lord!” he gasped. “Never been to sea before and planned a trip to the South Pole! What’s a bluff46 without a show-down!”
“Do you think I’ll be like this all the way?” I asked.
“Oh, pshaw! No! I’ll have Bill give you some of his tablets. You’ll be all right enough by lunch time.”
The suggestion of a food tablet at this particular time was the last thing needed. I went hastily below.
Gale’s prediction was not quite realized. I was absent from luncheon47, but before evening the spirit of my ancestors rose within me—perhaps because 69there was nothing else left for that purpose—and I ascended48 to the dinner table.
“Well, you’ve concluded that this voyage is no dream, have you?” greeted Gale.
“A good many more will come to that conclusion before it’s over,” growled49 Captain Biffer, who was present.
Across the table, the place of Ferratoni was vacant. Edith Gale, radiant, beamed upon me. I could afford to laugh, now, and did so.
And thus it was I came fully50 into my heritage.
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1
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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3
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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4
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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5
detectors
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| 探测器( detector的名词复数 ) | |
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6
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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7
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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8
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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9
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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10
maelstrom
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| n.大乱动；大漩涡 | |
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11
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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12
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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13
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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14
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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15
purporting
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| v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的现在分词 ) | |
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16
flipper
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| n. 鳍状肢，潜水用橡皮制鳍状肢 | |
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17
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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18
execration
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| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
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19
auspicious
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| adj.吉利的；幸运的，吉兆的 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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21
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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25
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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26
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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28
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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30
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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31
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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32
ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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34
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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37
obnoxious
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| adj.极恼人的，讨人厌的，可憎的 | |
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38
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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40
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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41
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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42
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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43
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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44
propeller
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器 | |
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45
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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46
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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47
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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48
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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50
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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