Wild Sports In The Far West. Gerstaecker Frederick
and the general apprehension was somewhat allayed.
While standing quietly on deck, I heard a tremendous uproar in the steerage; men swearing, women screaming, children crying, made a chorus enough to split one’s ears. I jumped down for fear of missing some fun, and was greeted by the most comical sight: every one had taken refuge on the highest sleeping places, on the tops of chests, boxes, or any other elevations, to be clear of the floor, which was taken possession of by a little white spaniel, which snarled, and snapped, and foamed at the mouth. All cried out as I came down the ladder, “A mad dog! a mad dog!” The poor beast seemed to me more sick than mad; it ran forward a couple of paces, and got jammed between two chests, and before it could free itself I had seized it by the back of the neck, while it snapped and struggled in vain. I shall long remember the shrieks of the women, who had mounted into the sleeping places, as I raised the dog, and thereby brought it nearer to them than they thought consistent with their safety. I kept fast hold of the poor thing, carried him up the ladder, and threw him overboard. It was the only dog on board, and belonged to poor William, who came in for the shower-bath of tar on board the lighter. He took the affair very coolly, and said, “he was glad the beast was gone, as he was always putting his paws into his food.” He and his father had remained a long time on deck, and at last, when they had descended, they did not meet with a very friendly reception from the old lady, who was lying sick in her bed-place. “William – you – and – your – father – are – very – stupid – to – leave – me – a – poor – sick – woman – all – a – lone – while – you – are – a – mu – sing – your – selves – on – deck.” William defended himself earnestly in Low Dutch, and thoughtlessly seating himself on his mother’s cap-box, the lid gave way under his weight; his ears were well boxed in consequence.
June 4th. – A calm, with the sea as smooth as a mirror, except occasionally when a long swell disturbed the surface; the ship was motionless. I felt a great inclination to bathe, but the captain had forbidden it, on account of the sharks. Early in the morning, however, H. and I sprang overboard before he was up, and felt as light as feathers in the warm sea; I was much more fatigued than ever I had been in river bathing, and I had swallowed no slight quantity of salt water.
I went to sleep after dinner, and as I came on deck again about two o’clock, I found dancing going on. The ship was not motionless, though without headway; the swell made her roll heavily at times, and occasionally a party of dancers, five or six couple, would be carried from one side to the other, and thereafter, for a moment attempting to maintain the perpendicular, yield at last to the laws of gravity, and fall together in a heap. Towards dark, dancing ceased; a light breeze sprang up at sunset, driving us gently before it, the sea looking still more beautiful with its little light foam-crested waves. At night it appeared to be sown with myriads of stars and sparks, particularly where the ship dashed through the waters, throwing off the spray: it shone as if a fire was under the water – every wave that broke against the bows, gave light enough to exhibit the letters in a book. Although it was against rules for steerage passengers to pass abaft the capstan, our kind-hearted captain was not very strict in enforcing this order, and for hours together I have watched the sparkling foam under the stern. Once while so occupied I was startled by a rushing, snorting noise, and looking up, saw the dark form of a grampus from about eighteen to twenty feet in length, rushing through the flashing waters as if swimming in liquid fire; he disappeared close under the stern.
On the following day we fell in with another ship: on our hoisting our Bremen colors, she showed an American ensign; we passed about fifty yards from her. The captains exchanged their latitude and longitude, and gave the name of the ports they came from and were bound to: her destination was Oporto. A singular feeling is awakened by thus meeting another ship on the immense ocean; to see another little world appear, pass within hail, then diminish to a white point, and disappear, leaving the poor emigrant more deserted than before on the waste of waters.
On the 7th June, we were running eleven knots an hour; there was not much sea, so that very few were sea-sick, and most had appeared on deck and collected into picturesque groups, – here a couple playing cards, there one with a prayer-book, a couple of girls knitting and reading together, and some with wrinkled brows, strange contortions of the mouth, and uncouth sounds, industriously studying, and endeavoring to pronounce, English. These quiet pleasant days were named by us fine fricandeau days, for the following reason. We could not eat all the salt meat and bacon that was served out, so we mixed the remains, after mincing it small, with bread crumbs and yolks of eggs, kneaded it together, and fried it in butter; hence the name, for in bad weather we could do nothing of the sort.
With so much fine weather I began to fear that we should miss seeing a storm, and so lose the real delight of a sea voyage; but on the 16th it began to blow, the sea got heavier and heavier, the faces longer and longer – and by midnight old Boreas was in full bluster, the ship dashing nobly through the brilliantly illuminated sea. I was delighted with the war of the elements, and leaning over the side, watched for hours the raging storm and restless waves. I did not go to bed till morning, when I took my mattress out of the berth, and laid it on the deck, as it was impossible for five to sleep below.
The next day’s sun lighted up a wild but glorious scene; immense dark blue waves, with green ridges crested with foam, for a moment “towering in pride of place,” then sinking to make room for others; a shoal of large porpoises were leaping joyfully among the boisterous waves. Sailors say that they can tell, by the course of these fish, the quarter that the wind will blow from, only they are not agreed whether they go against the wind or run before it; – merely a difference of diametrically opposite directions. The gale was now so heavy that we were obliged to lie to, with the helm lashed a-lee. In the midst of it we saw a ship running before the wind; with very little sail: she was frequently hidden by the intervening waves, shot quickly past, and was soon out of sight.
On the 19th, the weather moderated in the morning, but the gale came on again with greater force towards the evening. The scene in the steerage was piteous in the extreme; sea-sickness at its height. – H. and I attempted to joke with some, who were seated on the deck, deadly pale, with tin basins between their knees, patiently awaiting the dreaded paroxysms. We put a slice of nice fat bacon into a plate, covered it over, then went to the sufferers and asked them how they felt. Instead of answering, they mournfully shook their heads. “Won’t you take something?” asked H., with a kind voice; the very idea occasioned disgust, and with wry faces they motioned us not to speak of it; not yet satisfied, I uncovered the plate, and H., holding up the slice before them, asked in the most amiable, sympathizing voice, “Perhaps you could eat a little bit of bacon?” This was like a watchword; it worked like magic, and we were glad to fly on deck, almost alarmed at the success of our plans.
At noon pease-soup was served out; I had taken a basinful down below, a proceeding which required no little skill, and leaning against the sleeping-place had almost finished it, when H. came cursing and swearing down the ladder, and standing at the foot of it, showed us his coat, telling us, fiery with rage, that one of the Oldenburghers had spilt all his pease-soup over him. At this moment a tin dishful of the same came flying down the hatchway, and emptied itself so completely over ill-fated H. that his eyes were bunged up; nor was this all – the soup was only the prologue to the play, for who should follow his soup, head-foremost, but poor William, in propriâ personâ, who, but for alighting on H.’s shoulders must have broken his neck. Both fell together in the mess. It would be a vain attempt to describe H.’s rage; had we not sprung to the rescue, poor William would have been strangled. When the gale moderated, more sail was made, but the sea ran high, and through the wind being north-west, we could not lay our course; still way was made, and that was a comfort.
In the afternoon we saw another ship, and under Bremen colors. The captains exchanged information through the speaking-trumpets; we hastened towards the land of the stranger, while she was in full sail towards home; with mournful thoughts, I watched the snowy sails, growing less and less, until all traces of them were lost in the distant horizon.
Time began to hang heavy on our hands, our wished-for port still distant, and the wind unfavorable; we approached the banks of Newfoundland, whose southern points we were rounding under a thick fog. Towards evening another ship was seen; then the fog came on thicker, so that the bell was frequently struck, or a horn