He may have been cast up there by the whale for aught I
could learn to the contrary.
Choosing a berth well to windward of the dead whale--the one that landed
"the old man of the sea" there, maybe!--we anchored for the night, put a
light in the rigging and turned in. Next morning, the village was astir
betimes; canoes were being put afloat, and the rattle of poles, paddles,
bait boxes, and many more things for the daily trip that were being
hastily put into each canoe, echoed back from the tall palm groves notes
of busy life, telling us that it was time to weigh anchor and be
sailing. To this cheerful tune we lent ear and, hastening to be
underweigh, were soon clear of the port. Then, skimming along near the
beach in the early morning, our sails spread to a land breeze, laden
with fragrance from the tropic forest and the music of many songsters,
we sailed in great felicity, dreading no dangers from the sea, for
there were none now to dread or fear.
Proceeding forward through this belt of moderate winds, fanned by
alternating land and sea breezes, we drew on toward a region of high
trade-winds that reach sometimes the dignity of a gale.
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