Lakeum, who, as I have said, was a man of good education, delighted occasionally to ask questions with a view of testing my knowledge, and in this case the location of our vessel suggested the questions themselves. I had been so successful in responding to his queries about the Strait of Magellan that I did not want to fail in this second exercise. I set out to say that the whale swam to the Pacific Ocean, but was restrained by the thought that Lakeum was in earnest and that the remark would be regarded as impertinent.
“Think it over and let me know in half an hour.”
I could have gone to Kreelman, but to solicit his help would not have been fair. It occurred to me to think over the habits of whales, and immediately the whole thing was perfectly clear.
“Can you answer the question?” said Lakeum, later.
“I think so. The whale made the Indian Ocean by way of the Cape of Good Hope.”
“For two reasons. He didn’t go by the Strait of Magellan because the sperm hates soundings, and he didn’t go round the Horn because the water was too cold.”
“Go to the head of the class,” was Lakeum’s remark as he walked away.
These little manifestations of interest in me were particularly pleasing, and assured me that I had, in this fair and just but rather mysterious man, a true friend.
And now the weather became more disagreeable and the ocean more boisterous. The men put on their warmest garments, and the dread of the passage of the Horn was relieved a little by the thought that with favorable weather we should catch a glimpse of the Magellan Clouds and the Southern Cross. And sure enough we did. The Magellan Clouds are nebulæ in the southern part of the heavens—that is, they constitute a beautiful, bright patch in the sky far different from anything I have ever before seen; but the Southern Cross impressed me even more. It is a small constellation of four chief stars forming a cross. The brightest star is the southernmost. The stars are white except the northernmost, which is of an orange color. The constellation looked to me more like a kite than a cross.
Though the weather was severe, the old hands said that we were making an excellent passage and the chances were that we would soon find ourselves in the Pacific Ocean. It was the severest weather I had yet seen, and I thought that, if the passage were an excellent one, I certainly did not care to see a rigorous one. The prediction that we would soon find ourselves in the Pacific did not turn true. We were nearly round the Horn when we met with awful weather. There were sleet and a head wind for ten days. During this time we just held our own. To add to our discomfort, the cook found it difficult to run the galley, and our food was poor and there was not much of it. The distress and misery were shown in every face, and the only cheer came with the announcement that the captain had decided that, if the weather didn’t change for the better on the following day, he was going to turn about and make the Pacific the other way.