ships in a gale. For this much is true of a whale-boat, the
cunningest thing in its way ever fabricated by man.

Upon one of the Kingsmill islands, then, I determined to plant
my foot, come what come would. And I was equally determined that one
of the ship's boats should float me thither. But I had no idea of
being without a companion. It would be a weary watch to keep all by
myself, with naught but the horizon in sight.

Now, among the crew was a fine old seaman, one Jarl; how old, no one
could tell, not even himself. Forecastle chronology is ever vague and
defective. "Man and boy," said honest Jarl, "I have lived ever since
I can remember." And truly, who may call to mind when he was not? To
ourselves, we all seem coeval with creation. Whence it comes, that it
is so hard to die, ere the world itself is departed.

Jarl hailed from the isle of Skye, one of the constellated Hebrides.
Hence, they often called him the Skyeman. And though he was far from
being piratical of soul, he was yet an old Norseman to behold. His
hands were brawny as the paws of a bear; his voice hoarse as a storm
roaring round the old peak of Mull; and his long yellow hair waved
round his head like a sunset. My life for it, Jarl, thy ancestors
were Vikings, who many a time sailed over the salt German sea and the
Baltic; who wedded their Brynhildas in Jutland; and are now quaffing
mead in the halls of Valhalla, and beating time with their cans to
the hymns of the Scalds. Ah! how the old Sagas run through me!

Yet Jarl, the descendant of heroes and kings, was a lone, friendless
mariner on the main, only true to his origin in the sea-life that he
led. But so it has been, and forever will be. What yeoman shall swear