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Whatten temptations he can offer is oft forgot. Ye'll hae heard tell o' Major Weir the whilom "Bowhead Saint," as they callit him ye'll hae heard tell o' him, laddie? I mind my father talkin' o' his ain greetin' sair for bein' ower young to gang to his hangin'. Had I no?
Within two hours Captain Scraggs's half interest had passed into the hands of McGuffey, and half an hour later the Victor had passed into the hands of the opposition lines, to be operated for the joint profit of the latter. Later in the day all four members of the syndicate met in the Bowhead saloon, where Mr. Gibney explained the deal to Captain Scraggs. The latter was dumfounded.
Whirling about on the threshold, at the imminent risk of having his skull cracked, Dag Daughtry called back: "Doc! My dog! You know 'm." "I'll get him for you," Doctor Emory consented quickly. "What's the address?" "Room eight-seven, Clay street, the Bowhead Lodging House, you know the place, entrance just around the corner from the Bowhead Saloon.
I serpose w'en he kaint get nary fish he do de same ez de 'bowhead' go er siftin eout dem little tings we calls whale-feed wiv dat ar' rangement he carry in his mouf." "But why don't we harpoon him?" I asked. Goliath turned on me a pitying look, as he replied, "Sonny, ef yew wuz ter go on stick iron inter dat ar fish, yew'd fink de hole bottom fell eout kerblunk.
That happens often, I'm told. Then, one day he came upon the carcass of an immense bowhead whale far north on the Alaskan shore. It had been washed ashore by a storm. No natives lived near. The bone of that whale was worth a small fortune. He cut it out and buried it in the sand dunes near the beach.
"Neither of 'em," the gunner replied: "there's two kinds of right whale, the bowhead and the black, and both have fine whalebone, an' that, as you know, is a sort of strainer in the mouth that takes the place of teeth. Humpbacks an' finbacks are taken for oil, an' they look quite different.
Upon a night, which happened to be Scraggs's night off, and when he was particularly lonely and inclined to drown his sorrows in the Bowhead saloon, he was approached by Scab Johnny, and invited to repair to the latter's dingy office for the purpose of discussing what Scab Johnny guardedly referred to as a "proposition."
As it happened, however, I lost no excitement by remaining on board; for while all the boats were away a large bowhead rose near the ship, evidently being harassed in some way by enemies, which I could not at first see. He seemed quite unconscious of his proximity to the ship, though, and at last came so near that the whole performance was as visible as if it had been got up for my benefit.
Beyond the bows Rainey could see nothing of the whale, that must have sounded in fear of the killers, but he saw half a dozen scythe-like, black fins cutting the water in streaks of foam, all abreast, their high dorsals waving, wolves of the sea, hunting for the gray bowhead whale, to force its mouth open and feast on the delicacy of its living tongue.
"Well, we'll see you occasionally," Mr. Gibney said at parting. "Oh, sure. Don't be strangers. You're always welcome aboard the old Maggie," came the careless rejoinder. Somewhat crestfallen, the striking pair repaired to the Bowhead saloon to discuss the situation over a glass of beer. However, Mr.
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