Book: Lord Dolphin

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LORD DOLPHIN

[Illustration: "A GREAT VESSEL WAS STRAINING AND TUGGING. AND I COULD
SEE LIGHTS"]

LORD DOLPHIN

BY

HARRIET A. CHEEVER

AUTHOR OF "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF BILLY TRILL," "MADAME ANGORA,"
"MOTHER BUNNY," ETC.

Illustrated by

DIANTHA W. HORNE

LORD DOLPHIN

1903

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. LORD DOLPHIN INTRODUCES HIMSELF

II. UNDER THE WAVES

III. A CORAL GROVE

IV. THE MERMAID'S CAVE

V. MY GARDENS

VI. MY TREASURE GROUNDS

VII. WHAT I SAW ONE DAY

VIII. MY STRANGE ADVENTURE

IX. LORD DOLPHIN ON LAND

X. HURRAH!

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"A GREAT VESSEL WAS STRAINING AND TUGGING, AND I COULD SEE LIGHTS"

"MY TURN TO SHOW A WIDE MOUTH NOW"

"WHITE FACES SEEMED TO RISE AND RIDE ATOP OF THE FOAMING BILLOWS"

"OFF TORE THE FISHES, MAD WITH TERROR"

"ONE CUTE LITTLE NYMPH OF A GIRL WAS CRAZY TO GET NEAR ME"

"I WAS GIVEN MY FIRST RIDE ON LAND"

LORD DOLPHIN: HIS STORY

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

LORD DOLPHIN INTRODUCES HIMSELF

Now who ever heard of a fish's sitting up and telling his own story!

Oh, you needn't laugh, you young Folks, perhaps you will find that I can
make out very well, considering.

Of course I have been among "Folks," else I could never use your
language or know anything about you and your ways.

A message is not received direct from the depths of the sea very often,
and especially from one of the natural natives. And then, there are very
few fishes that ever have an experience like mine, and travel from one
continent to another, going both by sea and by land.

You surely will open your eyes pretty widely at that, and wonder how a
fish could go anywhere by land. Have patience and you shall hear all
about it by and by.

I was born deep down in the Mediterranean Sea. That long name is no
stranger. You have seen it many a time in your geographies. But could
you tell the meaning of it, I wonder? _I_ can! It means "Midland Sea,"
and is so named from being so near the middle of the earth.

If the Mediterranean Sea should be pulled up and away, together with the
space it occupies, my! what a hole there would be in the big round
earth!

Nowadays, even the little Folks hear a great deal about Europe. Some of
the family have very likely been there. Perhaps even small John or
Elizabeth have themselves crossed the great ocean, sailing on a fine
steamer to the coast of England or Ireland.

Oho! if you had fins and could spread them like sails, and cut through
the water like a flash, you would have a very different idea of the word
"distance" from what you have now.

I know "Folks" do not think it very nice to talk much about one's self,
but if there is no one else to introduce you, and it is necessary that
those with whom you are talking should know the truth about you, it can
be plainly seen that the only thing to do is to tell the personal story
as modestly and as truthfully as possible.

When first I saw the light, deep down in the sea, I was quite a little
fellow, and had a mother that took splendid care of me. She never had
but one child at a time, and that one she watched over and tended with
much affection until it was fully able to take care of itself.

My name is Dolphin, and the Dolphin family is a large one. One branch is
of a very peculiar shape, and has a long and pointed nose or beak from
which it is called the "Sea Goose," or the "Goose of the Sea." I belong
to that branch, but as to being a goose, allow me to say I never was one
and never shall be, not really and truly.

My head is round, and so large that it forms almost a third of my whole
body. Many Folks travelling by water have seen Dolphins, as once in
awhile we are obliged to toss our heads up out of the water in order to
breathe, as we have lungs. Yet it is not necessary for us to breathe as
Folks do, and we can blow out water in an upward stream from little
holes that are over our eyes.

My colors are fine, dark, almost black on my back, gray at the sides,
white and shiny as satin underneath.

There are strange things about a Dolphin. One is that when one is about
to die, the colors are very beautiful. In growing faint-tinted where
once dark, new and brilliant shades flash forth that change and glow in
showy tints. In our beak are thirty or forty sharp teeth on each side of
the jaw. Our voices are peculiar. We are said to make a kind of moan,
which you know is not a very cheerful sound. This is strange, as we are
really very lively creatures, and bright and happy in disposition, not
at all moany or sad.

Then we have a kind of small tank or reservoir inside the chest and near
the spine which is filled with pure blood. This, you must know, is
separate from the veins, and if we stay very long under water we can
draw from this reserve supply, causing it to circulate through the body.

There is a great deal of wisdom in all this that a poor fish cannot
understand, but Folks must know how these strange things come about, and
who makes and guides all creatures everywhere. But a Dolphin cannot take
it in at all.

We are a merry, friendly tribe. There probably are no fish that swim the
sea that are fonder of Folks than we Dolphins. And we cannot help
feeling quite proud because of what Folks have appeared to think of us.
And I must explain why I do so grand a thing as to call myself "Lord
Dolphin."

To begin with: In long years past, in "ancient times," as they are
called, Folks had an idea that we were able to do them good in some
ways, and so were of special value to them. And certain old coins or
pieces of money had the figure of a Dolphin stamped on them. It also was
on medals, which, you know, are of gold, silver, and copper, and are
given to Folks as a reward for having done a good or a brave deed.

The figure of a Dolphin was also sometimes embroidered on ribbon to be
used as a badge, showing that the wearer belonged to a particular
society or order using the Dolphin as an emblem. Or it might be, again,
that the figure showed one to be a member of an ancient or noble family.

Then there are strange and attractive stories of "myths," imaginary
forms or persons, like fairies, gods, and goddesses. When you are older
you will study about these ancient, make-believe beings, and the study
will be called myth-ology, telling curious, interesting stories about
the myths.

Apollo, one of the so-called deities, was a myth, and said to be the god
of music, medicine, and the fine arts, a great friend of mankind; and a
great favorite I was said to be of Apollo's.

Orion, another myth, and a most exquisite player of the lute, so
charmed the Dolphins with his playing, that once being in great trouble
and throwing himself into the sea, a Dolphin bore him on his back to the
shore.

Some Folks have called us whales. But we are not whales at all, and are
of an entirely different family. Yet I am a big fellow all of eight feet
long, while some of us are still much longer than that.

But the chief cause of pride with the Dolphins is the notice that has
been taken of us, and the honor shown us by the royal family of France.
Why, we formed at one time the chief figure on the coat of arms of the
princes of France.

A coat of arms, perhaps you know, is a family crest or medal, having on
it a figure or device which a high-born family adopts as its particular
sign or emblem of nobility.

Then the French people once named a province of France for us, calling
it Dauphene, and pronounced Dor-fa-na.

But greatest of all the honors shown us, is the fact that the little
men-babies born of the French kings, and heirs to the throne of France,
were called "the Dauphin," taken from our name.

Are we not distinguished? And do you wonder that we have a somewhat
exalted idea of ourselves after such honors as these have been heaped
upon us? And do you think, in view of these facts, that I am taking on
too grand a title in announcing myself as "Lord Dolphin"?

Dear me, I do hope not! It would be such a pity to make a mistake right
at the outset in telling a story. For truth to tell, I am not a bit
proud, but just a good-natured chap that has decided to spin a sea-yarn
for the amusement, and I hope the instruction, it may be, of young
Folks, being perfectly willing the older Folks should hear it, too, if
they like. And I don't believe the smaller Folks will object to the
title, even if they don't have "lords" in this country. It must be they
are all lords here, all the nice men-Folks.

Do you wonder what I live on? Fishes, of course, for we do not have a
very great chance at getting other kinds of food under water. I like
herrings best of all, and feed on them oftener than on any other kind of
fish.

There is just one fellow that I cannot endure. That is the flying-fish.
I fight, make war on him, and drive him away every time he comes around.
Oh, but he is the trying creature! Forever flying in your face, getting
in your way, prying into your affairs, a kind of gossip-fish, that I
despise. Why I feel so great a dislike for him I cannot say, it must be
there is something in my nature that sets me against him, but a
flying-fish and a Dolphin cannot live along the same wave.

There is another page in my history that must be mentioned.

Several hundred years ago our flesh used to be eaten, and what is more,
it was thought to be fine, so that only those who had a great deal of
money could afford to have it on their tables. But nowadays we are never
used for food, but are thought to be coarse, and not nearly as nice as
most other kinds of fish.

All right! We are very glad not to be in danger of being devoured. We go
sailing along under the bright surface of the sea, in groups of just
ourselves, and such leaps as we can take! By and by, you will hear of
leaps I have taken which have been the means of my learning a great
deal.

Away we scud, passing ships that think they are going pretty fast, but,
O Neptune! our fins and tails take us along at a spanking rate, which
makes the ships seem slow.

In one thing we are much like Folks. Don't laugh, please, but we are
very, very fond of music. Sometimes we catch the sound of voices singing
on a vessel, and up we go, leaping fairly into the air to get as near
the sound as possible.

And should there be a violin, a guitar, flute, or a cornet--oh, yes, I
know them all!--on a passing vessel, we float alongside just far enough
under water to keep our bodies out of sight, while we take in the
strains in our own peculiar way. For although our ears might be hard to
find, we yet absorb or draw in sound very readily.

And now that you know quite a little about the Dolphin family, I will
tell you some things that may interest you about my watery home. For
home, you know, is wherever one lives, whether it be in the air, on the
earth, in the earth, or in the waters under the earth.

CHAPTER II.

UNDER THE WAVES

Pretty soon I must describe my playground, but first you must learn a
few simple things about the place I love best of all places in the
world, my home in the deep, deep sea.

Do you suppose that when the sky is dark and threatening up where you
live, and when the wind is blowing like a hurricane, and the great waves
lash about, acting as if mad, that there is great disturbance far below?

Do you suppose that when shipmasters are shouting out orders to the
crew, and trying to keep their vessels from turning topsy-turvy or going
down out of sight, that the fishes are scampering about wild, driven
here and there by the fierce winds, and scared half to death by the fury
of the storm?

Do you suppose there is a terrible roar of wind and wave that bangs us
against each other at such times, and makes of the under-sea a raging
bedlam?

Oh, by no means! There is nothing of the kind down in what Folks call
"the lower ocean." It is calm and quiet as the surface of a pond on a
pleasant summer day.

And yet, if you wonder how I first learned about the lashing and the
thrashing of the waves above our heads when there is a storm, let me
tell about the time when I was a naughty, wilful fish, bound to have my
own way and do just as I pleased. It was when I was quite young, yet
pretty well grown. And this makes me wonder if growing little men-Folks
and women-Folks ever are determined to have their own way, no matter
what the mother may say.

I have an idea it is what is called the "smart age," when the young,
whether fish, flesh, or fowl, start up all at once, and think they know
more than--"than all the ancients." I heard that expression used once,
and it seemed somehow to fit in here.

Well, I was a young, big fellow, when one day I felt the will strong
within me to take leaps toward the upper sea. Now, I have already said
that my mother took the best and most watchful care of me when I was a
chicken-fish. So when she saw how restless and venturesome I appeared
that day, she tried her best, poor dear, to turn me from my purpose.

For she was older and wise, and could tell by certain signs when the
upper currents were seething and boiling. So when I darted upwards with
a strong swirl that cut the waters apart for my passage, she thrust
herself farther ahead, trying to drive me back, and said plainly by her
actions:

"Don't go aloft, my son, you will rush into danger; heed the warnings of
your mother and stay where the waters are untroubled and safe."

No, I was getting to be a smart man-fish, and must be allowed to go
where I would.

Very well, I went. Upward and upward I dove, until, oh, distress! I was
caught by the turmoil and confusion of a great storm. I had gone too far
because of knowing far less than I thought I did.

Do you ask why I did not immediately dive downwards again? Alas, I
couldn't! I had raised myself into the storm circle, and big creature
that I was, I had need to learn that there were mighty forces of the sea
that made all my strength as a mere wisp of straw when placed against
them.

Do not Folks, I wonder, sometimes find it much easier to get into a hard
place than to get out of it? That was what I found then, being driven
about first this way, then that. I was slammed against a great, roaring
billow that sent me off presently in another direction, merely to be met
by another wave that dashed me against a third one.

My instincts, that serve me for mind and brains, taught me that if I
wanted to get down to quiet, restful depths, I must dive head foremost
directly toward the bottom of the sea.

Oh, what folly to try! No sooner would I get my great head and long nose
pointed for a swift downward plunge, than a thundering billow would
actually toss me into the air, just as I have seen a spurt of spray toss
a cockle-shell.

Oh, but I saw strange sights and heard strange sounds that night! Once
when two waves came together I was not only tossed high in air, but for
several moments I actually rode atop of the rolling foam.

It was then that I had my first view of "Folks." What wonderful beings!
My first thought was, could it be some new, amazing kind of fish that
could stand upright? You see, I had up to that time only known creatures
that lay flat, that flapped fins in order to get along, or in order to
try what is called by the long word, lo-co-mo-tion.

But here were fine, tall objects that were in every way so different! I
indeed knew at once that they were far above and superior to the little
creatures that flew, to anything that crawled, and to any kind of fish
that swam the seas.

A great vessel was straining and tugging, and I could see lights here
and there that showed the water black as night. Sailors' voices rose
high above the surging of water and the tempest's loud cry. There were
queer little holes in the sides of the vessel that I know now are called
"port-holes," and big guns were pointed out through them.

A sailor with a rope about his waist tried to walk across the deck, but
was thrown along the wet and slippery boards like a ball tossed from the
hands of a child. In a queer set of outside garments that I have learned
are called "oil-skins," the crew, officers, and captain went to and fro,
trying their best to keep things straight.

In some way I knew that the brave captain was not afraid. A little pale
he was, surely, but his voice was firm as he called through a strange
fixture called the ship's trumpet. And his hands did not shake as he
tried to peer through a great glass across the rolling sea.

The sailor with the rope about him was again and again tossed and
tumbled about as he tried to make the passage across the deck, but as
often as he tried his mates would have to pull on the rope and right
him. And I still think, as I did that night, that a ship's crew,
sailors, officers, and captain, are brave, brave folk,--the bravest
Folks I know.

As the storm went crashing on, I kept thrusting myself downward, in
hopes to plunge lower than the storm circle. No use. I was upborne every
time, and after many attempts knew it would be best to simply float as I
must.

I had drifted far from the sailing-vessel, when, as I floated high on
the crest of a wave, I looked upon a pleasure-craft of some kind, riding
high upon the breakers. Men who were not regular sailors looked with
startled eyes on the terrible sea. They were calm and quiet, but from
the way they questioned the staunch skipper, and watched the men forming
the crew, I knew they carried anxious hearts, and longed to see the
waters grow calmer.

A hard fling sent me afloat again, and I had a peep inside the cabin,
where ladies with white faces and clasped hands were whispering of the
storm, and listening with fear in their eyes to the wild clamor of the
winds.

Then there was a peep beyond that showed me something that to this day
I cannot understand, but I tell it because my instincts assure me that
boy-Folks and girl-Folks in good homes with good parents will know just
what it meant. And although I am only Lord Dolphin, a great fish of the
sea, there was something about it that has comforted me, and I think
always will comfort me as long as I live.

I saw a little girl, oh, a fair little creature, with fluffy, golden
hair shading her babyish face, who was on her knees beside a white and
gilded berth.

A berth, you know, is a small bed built right against the wall in any
kind of a vessel, be it sailer, steamship, or yacht. I think this was
some rich man's yacht.

The fair little lady, then, was on her knees beside her gilded berth,
her elbows resting on the pretty white bed, eyes closed, tiny white
hands clasped, and lips moving. She surely was talking to some One, but
Who I cannot even guess.

But this much was certain: that child was not afraid. Not in the least!
She must have wakened from sleep, else she would not have been alone.
And hearing the wild storm, she had slipped from her little bed, put
herself on her knees, and raised her dear, fearless little hands and
heart--where?

Oh, surely that child had a Friend somewhere whom she trusted. How
beautiful!

They say that fishes and some other creatures are cold of blood and have
but little feeling. But I have gone far enough to think out one thing,
and it all comes of that child on her knees: if a dear mite of a woman
like that had a great, powerful Friend she could talk to in the dark,
and feel safe with in such a tempest, just as true as I am a living
Dolphin, I believe it must be some One strong enough and good enough to
care for all kinds of creatures. I do, indeed! Do you wonder it comforts
me?

It was strange that after awhile the moon came struggling through the
black and angry sky. She rode high, did Luna,--that is the moon's
name,--and was at the full, and wherever the clouds parted for a moment,
a broad streak of luminous light shone down on great mountains of water,
leaping up and up, as if eager to crush everything before them.

The wind did not soon go down, it could not; neither could I with my
utmost strength dive downwards through the piled-up, violent waves that
still rushed and roared, bounded and snapped with wild force.

Luna had sailed toward the west, and a gleam of daylight was streaking
the sky at the east, before the churning, choppy waters began leaping
less high, and once again I was tossed crest-high, where I was glad to
catch sight of a sailing-vessel that was steadying herself in the
distance, and a white yacht was skipping like a frightened but rescued
bird afar off.

I do not know whether I had been terribly afraid or not. I was not
afraid of the sea itself, it was what Folks call my "native element,"
the place in which I was born, was natural to me, and I was native to
it.

But yes, I think I was afraid that the coming together of those fierce
waves might crush me as they met in their terrible strength. The noise
of such a meeting could be heard miles away. Ships have been in great
peril from them, and fish have often had the life beaten out of them in
such a sea.

Yet, naughty fellow that I was, no great harm came to me. As soon as I
saw my chance, head down I plunged, out of the harsh circle of the
storm.

Oh, the peacefulness and the restfulness of those quiet lower regions!
For far below, all strife of angry billow and raging storm was unknown,
and glad enough was I to reach my mother's side.

It may have been that my own plump sides were puffed out with the effort
I had made, and the storm's rough tossing, and my absence and the
direction I had taken all told my mother that something had gone hard
with me, and that I was glad to again be near her in the silent depths
of home. She floated with me close alongside, guided me to a restful
grove midst shimmering weeds that made a soft and silken couch, where in
the sweet stillness, lulled by the lap of gentle ripples against weed,
or shell, or bending sea-flowers, I glided off to dreamless slumber.

And the last thing I saw before slipping off to quiet sleep was a little
bright-haired child on her knees, eyes closed, hands upraised and
folded: a child that was not afraid.

CHAPTER III.

A CORAL GROVE

Perhaps you did not know that the fishes in the sea, both large and
small, were playful creatures. Well, they are. They can frisk, frolic,
play "hide-and-seek", "catch", and race and romp at a great rate.

Now I want to tell something of our playground, and if you are surprised
at the beauty with which we are surrounded, why should you be? There
surely are lovely things on the earth for all kinds of upper-air
creatures, such as Folks, animals, birds, and insects, to enjoy.

Listen, then, while I tell about the "caverns of ocean". A cavern, you
know, is a hollow or den, and old ocean holds many a cavern or den full
of interest and beauty. But I will take you first to a kind of grove.

My home, where I spend most of my time, is in deep water. But not in the
deepest, oh, no! That is said to be two thousand fathoms down. Think of
it! More than two miles below the surface. There probably is but very
little life at that depth. But when I visit some groves, or the region
of a reef, I must first sail and sail until I reach water that is not
deep at all.

Do you think you have ever seen coral, real coral? Yes, doubtless you
have, and you may have seen it in various forms. But I feel sure you
have never seen coral to know very much about it, as you have never been
to the bottom of the sea.

Ah, here are all kinds of graceful shapes shooting up from the depths,
so singular and varied in form, that one would wonder what they are
meant to stand for. Look at these trees, perfect little trees in coral,
eight or ten feet high, with branches spreading out from the trunk. On
the branches are delicate sprays of fairylike net or lace-work, all in
white, but of various patterns. Should you get near enough, you would
see that these branches, some of which seem to bear flowers in shapes
like pinks or lilies, are dented or pitted as if tiny teeth had eaten
into them. This may be partly the work of worms.

Now, this is simply a large piece of white coral, but all around and
about are fanciful shapes, nearly as large as the one described. Here,
too, are what might be taken for thick bushes or shrubs, branching out
with sprays of fretwork, white and spotless. Then there are smaller
growths like low plants, and curiously colored, some pink, some red,
others a yellowish white. These, too, appear to bear flowers, asters,
carnations, or roses.

And for miles at a time we can rove and sport in a beautiful coral
grove.

Think of a little house, if you can, made entirely of ivory, with here
and there bright tints mingling with the white. For coral looks like
ivory when its natural roughness is smoothed and polished. Think of
swimming through little rooms, under arches, over lovely walks, through
make-believe doors, slipping past upright altars of red and white coral,
resting on spreading seats, or under outreaching canopies, or stopping
to look at another outreaching shape like the arms of candelabra or
candlestick holders. Sliding over footstools, and under culverts, all
soft and gleaming in color. Then again there are curves and passages in
which we can hide and stay hidden as long as we please. Is it not
beautiful? And all so clean and clear!

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