the mirror of the sea-第13部分

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had　left　the　Southern　Ocean　tumbling　heavily　upon　our　ship；　under　a



sky　hung　with　rags　of　clouds　that　seemed　to　have　been　cut　and



hacked　by　the　keen　edge　of　a　sou'…west　gale。







Our　craft；　a　Clyde…built　barque　of　1；000　tons；　rolled　so　heavily



that　something　aloft　had　carried　away。　　No　matter　what　the　damage



was；　but　it　was　serious　enough　to　induce　me　to　go　aloft　myself　with



a　couple　of　hands　and　the　carpenter　to　see　the　temporary　repairs



properly　done。







Sometimes　we　had　to　drop　everything　and　cling　with　both　hands　to



the　swaying　spars；　holding　our　breath　in　fear　of　a　terribly　heavy



roll。　　And；　wallowing　as　if　she　meant　to　turn　over　with　us；　the



barque；　her　decks　full　of　water；　her　gear　flying　in　bights；　ran　at



some　ten　knots　an　hour。　　We　had　been　driven　far　south　…　much



farther　that　way　than　we　had　meant　to　go；　and　suddenly；　up　there　in



the　slings　of　the　foreyard；　in　the　midst　of　our　work；　I　felt　my



shoulder　gripped　with　such　force　in　the　carpenter's　powerful　paw



that　I　positively　yelled　with　unexpected　pain。　　The　man's　eyes



stared　close　in　my　face；　and　he　shouted；　〃Look；　sir！　look！　　What's



this？〃　pointing　ahead　with　his　other　hand。







At　first　I　saw　nothing。　　The　sea　was　one　empty　wilderness　of　black



and　white　hills。　　Suddenly；　half…concealed　in　the　tumult　of　the



foaming　rollers　I　made　out　awash；　something　enormous；　rising　and



falling　…　something　spread　out　like　a　burst　of　foam；　but　with　a



more　bluish；　more　solid　look。







It　was　a　piece　of　an　ice…floe　melted　down　to　a　fragment；　but　still



big　enough　to　sink　a　ship；　and　floating　lower　than　any　raft；　right



in　our　way；　as　if　ambushed　among　the　waves　with　murderous　intent。



There　was　no　time　to　get　down　on　deck。　　I　shouted　from　aloft　till



my　head　was　ready　to　split。　　I　was　heard　aft；　and　we　managed　to



clear　the　sunken　floe　which　had　come　all　the　way　from　the　Southern



ice…cap　to　have　a　try　at　our　unsuspecting　lives。　　Had　it　been　an



hour　later；　nothing　could　have　saved　the　ship；　for　no　eye　could



have　made　out　in　the　dusk　that　pale　piece　of　ice　swept　over　by　the



white…crested　waves。







And　as　we　stood　near　the　taffrail　side　by　side；　my　captain　and　I；



looking　at　it；　hardly　discernible　already；　but　still　quite　close…to



on　our　quarter；　he　remarked　in　a　meditative　tone：







〃But　for　the　turn　of　that　wheel　just　in　time；　there　would　have　been



another　case　of　a　'missing'　ship。〃







Nobody　ever　comes　back　from　a　〃missing〃　ship　to　tell　how　hard　was



the　death　of　the　craft；　and　how　sudden　and　overwhelming　the　last



anguish　of　her　men。　　Nobody　can　say　with　what　thoughts；　with　what



regrets；　with　what　words　on　their　lips　they　died。　　But　there　is



something　fine　in　the　sudden　passing　away　of　these　hearts　from　the



extremity　of　struggle　and　stress　and　tremendous　uproar　…　from　the



vast；　unrestful　rage　of　the　surface　to　the　profound　peace　of　the



depths；　sleeping　untroubled　since　the　beginning　of　ages。















XVIII。















But　if　the　word　〃missing〃　brings　all　hope　to　an　end　and　settles　the



loss　of　the　underwriters；　the　word　〃overdue〃　confirms　the　fears



already　born　in　many　homes　ashore；　and　opens　the　door　of



speculation　in　the　market　of　risks。







Maritime　risks；　be　it　understood。　　There　is　a　class　of　optimists



ready　to　reinsure　an　〃overdue〃　ship　at　a　heavy　premium。　　But



nothing　can　insure　the　hearts　on　shore　against　the　bitterness　of



waiting　for　the　worst。







For　if　a　〃missing〃　ship　has　never　turned　up　within　the　memory　of



seamen　of　my　generation；　the　name　of　an　〃overdue〃　ship；　trembling



as　it　were　on　the　edge　of　the　fatal　heading；　has　been　known　to



appear　as　〃arrived。〃







It　must　blaze　up；　indeed；　with　a　great　brilliance　the　dull



printer's　ink　expended　on　the　assemblage　of　the　few　letters　that



form　the　ship's　name　to　the　anxious　eyes　scanning　the　page　in　fear



and　trembling。　　It　is　like　the　message　of　reprieve　from　the



sentence　of　sorrow　suspended　over　many　a　home；　even　if　some　of　the



men　in　her　have　been　the　most　homeless　mortals　that　you　may　find



among　the　wanderers　of　the　sea。







The　reinsurer；　the　optimist　of　ill…luck　and　disaster；　slaps　his



pocket　with　satisfaction。　　The　underwriter；　who　had　been　trying　to



minimize　the　amount　of　impending　loss；　regrets　his　premature



pessimism。　　The　ship　has　been　stauncher；　the　skies　more　merciful；



the　seas　less　angry；　or　perhaps　the　men　on　board　of　a　finer　temper



than　he　has　been　willing　to　take　for　granted。







〃The　ship　So…and…so；　bound　to　such　a　port；　and　posted　as　'overdue；'



has　been　reported　yesterday　as　having　arrived　safely　at　her



destination。〃







Thus　run　the　official　words　of　the　reprieve　addressed　to　the　hearts



ashore　lying　under　a　heavy　sentence。　　And　they　come　swiftly　from



the　other　side　of　the　earth；　over　wires　and　cables；　for　your



electric　telegraph　is　a　great　alleviator　of　anxiety。　　Details；　of



course；　shall　follow。　　And　they　may　unfold　a　tale　of　narrow　escape；



of　steady　ill…luck；　of　high　winds　and　heavy　weather；　of　ice；　of



interminable　calms　or　endless　head…gales；　a　tale　of　difficulties



overcome；　of　adversity　defied　by　a　small　knot　of　men　upon　the　great



loneliness　of　the　sea；　a　tale　of　resource；　of　courage　…　of



helplessness；　perhaps。







Of　all　ships　disabled　at　sea；　a　steamer　who　has　lost　her　propeller



is　the　most　helpless。　　And　if　she　drifts　into　an　unpopulated　part



of　the　ocean　she　may　soon　become　overdue。　　The　menace　of　the



〃overdue〃　and　the　finality　of　〃missing〃　come　very　quickly　to



steamers　whose　life；　fed　on　coals　and　breathing　the　black　breath　of



smoke　into　the　air；　goes　on　in　disregard　of　wind　and　wave。　　Such　a



one；　a　big　steamship；　too；　whose　working　life　had　been　a　record　of



faithful　keeping　time　from　land　to　land；　in　disregard　of　wind　and



sea；　once　lost　her　propeller　down　south；　on　her　passage　out　to　New



Zealand。







It　was　the　wintry；　murky　time　of　cold　gales　and　heavy　seas。　　With



the　snapping　of　her　tail…shaft　her　life　seemed　suddenly　to　depart



from　her　big　body；　and　from　a　stubborn；　arrogant　existence　she



passed　all　at　once　into　the　passive　state　of　a　drifting　log。　　A



ship　sick　with　her　own　weakness　has　not　the　pathos　of　a　ship



vanquished　in　a　battle　with　the　elements；　wherein　consists　the



inner　drama　of　her　life。　　No　seaman　can　look　without　compassion



upon　a　disabled　ship；　but　to　look　at　a　sailing…vessel　with　her



lofty　spars　gone　is　to　look　upon　a　defeated　but　indomitable



warrior。　　There　is　defiance　in　the　remaining　stumps　of　her　masts；



raised　up　like　maimed　limbs　against　the　menacing　scowl　of　a　stormy



sky；　there　is　high　courage　in　the　upward　sweep　of　her　lines　towards



the　bow；　and　as　soon　as；　on　a　hastily…rigged　spar；　a　strip　of



canvas　is　shown　to　the　wind　to　keep　her　head　to　sea；　she　faces　the



waves　again　with　an　unsubdued　courage。















XIX。















The　efficiency　of　a　steamship　consists　not　so　much　in　her　courage



as　in　the　power　she　carries　within　herself。　　It　beats　and　throbs



like　a　pulsating　heart　within　her　iron　ribs；　and　when　it　stops；　the



steamer；　whose　life　is　not　so　much　a　contest　as　the　disdainful



ignoring　of　the　sea；　sickens　and　dies　upon　the　waves。　　The　sailing…



ship；　with　her　unthrobbing　body；　seemed　to　lead　mysteriously　a　sort



of　unearthly　existence；　bordering　upon　the　magic　of　the　invisible



forces；　sustained　by　the　inspiration　of　life…giving　and　death…



dealing　winds。







So　that　big　steamer；　dying　by　a　sudden　stroke；　drifted；　an　unwieldy



corpse；　away　from　the　track　of　other　ships。　　And　she　would　have



been　posted　really　as　〃overdue；〃　or　maybe　as　〃missing；〃　had　she　not



been　sighted　in　a　snowstorm；　vaguely；　like　a　strange　rolling



island；　by　a　whaler　going　north　from　her　Polar　cruising　ground。



There　was　plenty　of　food　on　board；　and　I　don't　know　whether　the



nerves　of　her　passengers　were　at　all　affected　by　anything　else　than



the　sense　of　interminable　boredom　or　the　vague　fear　of　that　unusual



situation。　　Does　a　passenger　ever　feel　the　life　of　the　ship　in



which　he　is　being　carried　like　a　sort　of　honoured　bale　of　highly



sensitive　goods？　　For　a　man　who　has　never　been　a　passenger　it　is



impossible　to　say。　　But　I　know　that　there　is　no　harder　trial　for　a



seaman　than　to　feel　a　dead　ship　under　his　feet。







There　is　no　mistaking　that　sensation；　so　dismal；　so　tormenting　and



so　subtle；　so　full　of　unhappiness　and　unrest。　　I　could　imagine　no



worse　eternal　punishment　for　evil　seamen　who　die　unrepentant　upon



the　earthly　sea　than　that　their　souls　should　be　condemned　to　man



the　ghosts　of　disabled　ships；　drifting　for　ever　across　a　ghostly



and　tempestuous　ocean。







She　must　have　looked　ghostly　enough；　that　broken…down　steamer；



rolling　in　that　snowstorm　…　a　dark　apparition