Part 17 (1/2)

But there was something else on board which I should draw especial attention to, and this was nothing less than a huge balloon. It was not filled, of course, but the means to inflate it were all on board, and having reached the great Antarctic ice-wall or barrier, the captain meant to make an aerial voyage of discovery, farther to the south than any traveller had ever been before.

There is nothing I love better than acts of daring and wild adventure, and Talbot was certainly to be commended on this score.

His balloon was certainly not anything like the size of Andree's, yet it was capable of rising and floating for an indefinite period with three men, and provisions for as many months.

A special house had been built for this great uninflated balloon between the fore and main masts, and on each side, bottom upwards, lay the whalers, or boats with bows at each end, and steered by an oar only.

These were to be used in the fishery.

The s.h.i.+p's ballast was water-filled tanks, and tanks laden with coals.

But Talbot hoped to return to Scottish or English sh.o.r.es with ballast of quite a different sort, and better paying--oil, to wit.

The _Flora M'Vayne_ was to touch nowhere on her voyage out until she reached the Cape. That at least was the good skipper's intention, but circ.u.mstances alter cases, as will presently be seen.

They had fine weather all the way till far past the dreaded Bay of Biscay. On this occasion two boys in a dinghy might have crossed it.

But it is not to be supposed that they could go on for a very long time without encountering what Jack calls dirty weather. And so when, in about the lat.i.tude of Lisbon, and to the east of the Azores, it came on to blow, no one was a bit surprised.

”We'll have a gale, mate,” said the captain; ”but though abeam, or rather on the bow, we have plenty of sea-room; and on the whole I sha'n't be sorry, for I really want to see how the _Flora_ behaves.”

The wind, even as he spoke, began to roar more wildly through the rigging, but in gusts or squalls, that at times rose for a few minutes to almost hurricane pitch.

Before the storm had come on many beautiful gulls had been screaming around the barque and diving for morsels of food that Frank was throwing to them, but now they disappeared. Back they flew to the rocks that frown over the waters of their sea-girt homes. Little dark chips of stormy petrels, however, continued to dash from wave-top to wave-top, and for once in a way, they brought tempest.

But the s.h.i.+p was now eased, for the lurid sun was setting, and a dark and moonless night must follow. The men were hardly down from aloft when the storm seemed to increase, but it blew more steadily, so she was kept away a point or two, and now went dancing over the heavy seas as if she imagined she was the best clipper ever built.

A little heavy-headed she proved, however, so that she s.h.i.+pped a good deal of water over the bows, otherwise the thumping, thudding, buffeting waves seemed to make not the slightest impression on her.

The chief cabin or dining-saloon was down below, there being no p.o.o.p, but a flush-deck all along. Both Frank and Duncan were off duty, and, seated in this small but comfortable saloon, the former could not help remarking on the strange feeling and sound of each heavy wave that struck the s.h.i.+p abeam. She appeared to be hit by a huge, soft boxing-glove, about a thousand times as large as any we ever use.

Immediately after there was the whis.h.i.+ng sound of water on the deck, but although the vessel was heeled over somewhat by every awful blow, she took no other notice.

”Batter away, old Neptune,” the barque seemed to say; ”it amuses you, and it doesn't hurt me in the slightest.”

About two bells in the first watch, Talbot came below, and supper was ordered.

His face was radiant, but s.h.i.+ning with wet. The steward, however, a.s.sisted him out of his oil-skins and sou'wester, then, having wiped his face with his pocket-handkerchief, he sat down.

”Well,” said Duncan, ”Frank and I are waiting to hear the verdict.”

”Why, it is this,” said the skipper. ”The barque is a duck, and well deserves the name of _Flora M'Vayne_. I don't believe a hurricane could hurt her, and she'll chuck the small icebergs on one side of her as I should chuck a cricket-ball. And ain't I hungry just. Sit in, boys.

It's all night in with you lads, isn't it?”

”Not quite,” said Duncan. ”I kept the last dog-watch, and don't go on again till four.”

Viking got up and seated himself by his well-beloved master's side.

He licked Duncan's hand, as much as to say, ”When you go on deck so shall I.”