Part 41 (1/2)

McBain did not attempt to laugh him out of his story, but he made him describe over and over again what he had seen; then he called the watch, and examined them verbally man by man, and found they all told the self-same tale, talking soberly, earnestly, and truthfully, as men do who feel they are stating facts.

The terrible monster they averred came from the northwards, and was distinctly visible for nearly a minute, pa.s.sing between the s.h.i.+p and the ice-line which Stevenson had mentioned. They described his length, which could not have been less than seventy or eighty yards, the undulations of his body as he swept along on the surface of the water, the elevated head, the mane and--some added--the awful glaring eyes.

It did not come on to blow as the mate predicted, so the s.h.i.+p made no move from her position, but all day long there was but little else talked about, either fore or aft, save the visit of the great sea-serpent, and as night drew on the stories told around the galley fire would have been listened to with interest by any one at all fond of the mysterious and awful.

”I mean,” said Rory, as he retired, ”to turn out as soon as it is light, and watch; the brute is sure to return. I've told Peter to call me.”

”So shall I,” said Allan and the doctor.

”So shall I,” said Ralph.

”Well, boys,” said McBain, ”I'll keep you company.”

When they went on deck, about four bells in the middle watch, they were not surprised to find all hands on deck, eagerly gazing towards the spot where they had seen ”the maned monster of the deep,”--as poet Rory termed him--disappear.

It was a cold, dull cheerless morning; the sun was up but his beams were sadly shorn--they failed to pierce the thick canopy of clouds and mist that overspread the sky, and brought the horizon within a quarter of a mile of them. They could, however, easily see the ice-line--long and low and white.

A whole hour pa.s.sed, and McBain at all events was thinking of going below, when suddenly came a shout from the men around the forecastle.

”Look! look! Oh! look! Yonder he rips! There he goes!”

Gazing in the direction indicated, the hearts of more than one of our heroes seemed to stand still with a strange, mysterious fear, for there, rus.h.i.+ng over the surface of the dark water, the undulated body well-defined against the white ice-edge, was--what else could it be?-- the great sea-serpent!

”I can see his mane and head and eyes,” cried Rory. ”Oh! it is too dreadful.”

Then a shout from the masthead,--

”He is coming this way.”

It was true. The maned monster had altered his course, and was bearing straight down upon the _Arrandoon_.

No one moved from his position, but there were pale, frightened faces and starting eyes; and though the men uttered no cry, a strange, frightened moan arose, a fearful quavering ”Oh-h-h?”--a sound that once heard is never to be forgotten. Next moment, the great sea-serpent, with a wild and unearthly scream, bore down upon the devoted s.h.i.+p, then suddenly resolved itself _into a long flight of sea-birds_ (Arctic divers)!

So there you have a true story of the great sea-serpent, but I am utterly at a loss to describe to you the jollity and fun and laughing that ensued, as soon as the ridiculous mistake was discovered.

And nothing would suit Ted Wilson but getting up on the top of the bowsprit and shouting,--

”Men of the _Arrandoon_, bold sailors all, three cheers for the great sea-serpent. Hip! hip! hip! Hurrah!!!”

Down below dived Ralph, followed by all the others. ”Peter! Peter!

Peter!” he cried.

”Ay, ay, sir,” from Peter.

”Peter, I'm precious hungry.”

”And so am I,” said everybody.

Peter wasn't long in laying the cloth and bringing out the cold meat and the pickles, and it wasn't long either before Freezing Powders brought hot coffee. Oh! didn't they do justice to the good things, too!