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Updated: June 12, 2025
Having thus fully and emphatically condemned himself, and along with himself all mankind who are in a similar category, Tim Rokens relapsed into silence, deliberately drew forth his pipe, filled it, lit it, and began to smoke.
"Nearly drowned in oil!" exclaimed the sisters, while Ailie opened her eyes in amazement, and Mr Rokens became alarmingly purple in the face with suppressed chuckling. "It's true," remarked Rokens, in a hoarse whisper to Miss Martha, putting his hand up to his mouth, the better to convey the sound to her ears; "I seed him tumble in, and helped to haul him out."
Meanwhile the crew of the captain's boat were busy in the forecastle stripping off their wet garments, and relating their adventures to the men of the other boats, who, until they reached the ship, had been utterly ignorant of what had passed. It is curious that Tim Rokens should open the conversation with much the same sentiment, if not exactly the same phrase, as that expressed by the captain.
Softly now, softly." In another instant the boat's bow was on the whale's head, and Rokens buried a harpoon deep in its side. "Stern all!" thundered the captain.
A united shriek from Martha and Jane, a nautical howl from the guests, and a rolled-up pocket-handkerchief from Rokens sent that animal from the table as if it had received a galvanic shock. "I ax yer parding, ladies," said Mr Rokens, whose aim had been so perfect that his handkerchief not only accelerated the flight of the cat, but carried away the violated pat of butter along with it.
His pale body lay in a far corner o' the room doubled up and smashed to bits, and his pointed cap lay in another corner almost flat. That ghost," concluded Rokens, with slow emphasis "that ghost was the candle, it wos!" "The candle!" exclaimed several of the men in surprise. "Yes, the candle, and brass candlestick with the stinguisher a-top o't.
"But have you not seen Rokens or Briant?" inquired Ailie with an anxious face, while the tears rolled over her cheeks. The captain shook his head, but made no reply, and the men looked earnestly at each other, as if each sought to gather a ray of hope from the countenance of his friend. While they sat thus, a terrible blast shook the hut to its foundation.
"You don't mean it?" remarked Tim Rokens, crossing his legs and devoting himself to his pipe, with the air of a man who mourned the depravity of his species, but did not feel called upon to disturb his equanimity very much because of it. Phil Briant clenched his teeth, and glared. "Indeed I do mean it," reiterated the trader.
"Yes!" screamed Ailie. "Hurrah!" shouted Tim Rokens and Tarquin in a breath. Dick Barnes, and the doctor, and the captain, and, in short, everybody, echoed the last sentiment, and repeated it again and again with delight as they saw the gigantic bird once again swoop down upon the bait and seize it.
Then we crep' in the lee o' the cask, an' lay there till a lull came, when we clapped on all sail, an' made for the shelter o' the rocks, an' shure we got there niver a taste too soon, for it came on to blow the next minit, fit to blow the eyelids off yer face, it did." "It's a fact," added Rokens.
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