Nubart

nubart

HackerNoon Reporter: Please tell us briefly about your  background. I have an unusual background for an entrepreneur: I have a background in humanities with a Ph.D. in comparative literature. I believe that this atypical background has helped me to think outside the box in the pragmatic world of business. Thanks to this background, I feel comfortable among diverse cultures and languages. I founded my first company in my twenties, a translation agency. At that time the internet didn't exist yet and everything was incredibly different! What's your startup called? And in a sentence or two, what does it do? Our company is called “Digital Tangible” (because we make digital things ), but we do business under the name of “ ”. Technically speaking: Nubart is a branded card with a unique code that gives non-transferable access to a PWA. tangible Nubart But speaking in terms of business: our cards enable museums to easily provide a rich multimedia audio guide to their visitors, and to monetize it by selling the cards, without all the hassle of rented dedicated devices. We call it “the Audio Guide Visitors Keep”. What is the origin story? In 2013 the publishing industry, from which I came from, was very concerned about the disruption of e-books. Simon Effing, Jordi Pérez, and I decided to found Digital Tangible with the aim of selling download cards for e-books in bookstores. This proved to be a bad idea, and in 2016 we discovered that we could apply virtually the same technology to solve another, very different problem: the maintenance issues that museums have with traditional audio guides. So we pivoted towards audio guide-cards by launching Nubart. What do you love about your team, and why are you the ones to solve this problem? I love how committed my team is to the vision of Nubart. Even though we are a technology company, we move successfully in the field of culture and humanities. There are not many companies that thrive with innovation applied to humanities, and I think that makes us particularly attractive. I think we have solved this problem for museums thanks to our great technological capacity. We apply the most advanced typesafe programming languages, such as Scala, to a cultural environment that is not usually very attractive for outstanding developers. This gives us extraordinary results and a great competitive advantage. Our goal is not only to provide monetizable access to content to the museums but to achieve comprehensive coverage of all the interpretive needs of such kinds of venues. Thus, our cards not only provide access to a prerecorded audio guide but also to a complex tour guiding system. We can even synchronize the soundtracks of our audio guides to on-site video-displays. All this without native apps, just from a browser, and with great ease of use. Several international patents have already emerged from these efforts. If you weren’t building your startup, what would you be doing? That’s an easy one: writing and researching, as I did before I got into the trouble of founding a company. At the moment, how do you measure success? What are your core metrics? We have doubled our revenue every single year since 2017. We are expanding internationally, even beyond Europe, and we have customers in more than 20 countries. 85 % of our customers remain loyal to Nubart and keep ordering new cards. The number of new customers is increasing exponentially from year to year, and also the average revenue per customer. What’s most exciting about your traction to date? We had so many difficulties in the first four years of our company's life, and I was so close to giving up, that I still find it hard to believe that we are finally growing. The initial difficulties of being a bootstrapped company that made our initial journey so hard are now proving to be a blessing. They taught us to make prudent use of our resources and to achieve very solid growth. Traction is all the more exciting when preceded by four years of hardships! What technologies are you currently most excited about, and most worried about? And why? After many years of typesafe and functional backend development with Scala, we are excited that we can stick to our principles in the frontend as well and build progressive web apps with Scala.js, and even share code between the frontend and backend in a typesafe manner. We are worried about browsers that are not following web standards and releasing buggy versions. What drew you to get published on HackerNoon? What do you like most about our platform? You have an excellent reputation in the technological field! Given that until now our efforts to make ourselves known have been directed mainly to the cultural environment, I didn't want to miss this opportunity. What advice would you give to the 21-year-old version of yourself? Think twice before founding a company! Vote for Nubart as the in our city, Barcelona! Startup of the Year

'The Atypical Background has Helped Me Think Out of Box': Rosa Sala, CEO of Nubart

240 Stories To Learn About Startups Of The Year

90 Stories To Learn About Startup Strategy

DOCTOR THORNE—THE BERTRAMS—THE WEST INDIES AND THE SPANISH MAIN.

Anæsthesia is "the real sigillum hysteriæ."

Dick Sands the Boy Captain by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . A WHALE IN SIGHT here A WHALE IN SIGHT It was only what might be expected that the dog's singular exhibition of sagacity should repeatedly form a subject of conversation between Mrs. Weldon, the captain, and Dick. The young apprentice in particular began to entertain a lurking feeling of distrust towards Negoro, although it must be owned that the man's conduct in general afforded no tangible grounds for suspicion. Nor as it only among the stern passengers that Dingo's remarkable feat was discussed; amongst the crew in the bow the dog not only soon gained the reputation of being able to read, but was almost credited with being able to write too, as well as any sailor among them; indeed the chief wonder was that he did not speak. "Perhaps he can," suggested Bolton, the helmsman, "and likely enough some fine day we shall have him coming to ask about our bearings, and to inquire which way the wind lies." "Ah! why not?" assented another sailor; "parrots talk, and magpies talk; why shouldn't a dog? For my part, I should guess it must be easier to speak with a mouth than with a beak." "Of course it is," said Howick, the boatswain; "only a quadruped has never yet been known to do it." Perhaps, however, the worthy fellow would have been amazed to hear that a certain Danish once possesed a dog that could actually pronounce quite distinctly nearly twenty different words, demonstrating that the construction savant [Illustration: "This Dingo is nothing out of the way."] of the glottis, the aperture at the top of the windpipe, was adapted for the emission of regular sounds: of course the animal attached no meaning to the words it uttered any more than a parrot or a jay can comprehend their own chatterings. Thus, unconsciously, Dingo had become the hero of the hour. On several separate occasions Captain Hull repeated the experiment of spreading out the blocks before him, but invariably with the same result; the dog never failed, without the slightest hesitation, to pick out the two letters, leaving all the rest of the alphabet quite unnoticed. Cousin Benedict alone, somewhat ostentatiously, professed to take no interest in the circumstance. "You cannot suppose," he said to Captain Hull, after various repetitions of the trick, "that dogs are to be reckoned the only animals endowed with intelligence Rats, you know, will always leave a sinking ship, and beavers invariably raise their dams before the approach of a flood. Did not the horses of Nicomedes, Scanderberg and Oppian die of grief for the loss of their masters? Have there not been instances of donkeys with wonderful memories? Birds, too, have been trained to do the most remarkable things; they have been taught to write word after word at their master's dictation; there are cockatoos who can count the people in a room as accurately as a mathematician; and haven't you heard of the old Cardinal's parrot that he would not part with for a hundred gold crowns because it could repeat the Apostles' creed from beginning to end without a blunder? And insects," he continued, warming into enthusiasm, "how marvellously they vindicate the axiom- 'In minimis maximus Deus!' Are not the structures of ants the very models for the architects of a city? Has the diving-bell of the aquatic argyroneta ever been surpassed by the invention of the most skilful student of mechanical art? And cannot fleas go through a drill and fire a gun as well as the most accomplished artilleryman? This Dingo is nothing out of the way. I suppose he belongs to some unclassed species of mastiff. Perhaps one day or other he may come to be identified as the 'canis alphabeticus' of New Zealand." The worthy entomologist delivered this and various similar harangues; but Dingo, nevertheless, retained his high place in the general estimation, and by the occupants of the forecastle was regarded as little short of a phenomenon. The feeling, otherwise universal, was not in any degree shared by Negoro, and it is not improbable that the man would have been tempted to some foul play with the dog if the open sympathies of the crew had not kept him in check. More than ever he studiously avoided coming in contact in any way with the animal, and Dick Sands in his own mind was quite convinced that since the incident of the letters, the cook's hatred of the dog had become still more intense. After continual alternations with long and wearisome calms the north-east wind perceptibly moderated, and on the both, Captain Hull really began to hope that such a change would ensue as to allow the schooner to run straight before the wind. Nineteen days had elapsed since the "Pilgrim" had left Auckland, a period not so long but that with a favourable breeze it might be made up at last. Some days however were yet to elapse before the wind veered round to the anticipated quarter. It has been already stated that this portion of the Pacific is almost always deserted. It is out of the line of the American and Australian steam-packets, and except a whaler had been brought into it by some such exceptional circumstances as the "Pilgrim," it was quite unusual to see one in this latitude. But, however void of traffic was the surface of the sea, to none but an unintelligent mind could it appear monotonous or barren of interest. The poetry of the ocean breathes forth in its minute and almost imperceptible changes. A marine plant, a tuft of seaweed lightly furrowing the water, a drifting spar with its unknown history, may afford unlimited scope-for the imagination; every little drop passing, in its process of evaporation, backwards and [Illustration: Occasionally Dick Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle.] forwards from sea to sky, might perchance reveal its own special secret; and happy are those minds which are capable of a due appreciation of the mysteries of air and ocean. Above the surface as well as below, the restless flood is ever teaming with animal life; and the passengers on board the "Pilgrim" derived no little amusement from watching great flocks of birds migrating northwards to escape the rigour of the polar winter, and ever and again descending in rapid flight to secure some tiny fish. Occasionally Dick Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle, and, thanks to Mr. Weldon's former instructions, would bring down various specimens of the feathered tribe. Sometimes white petrels would congregate in considerable numbers near the schooner; and sometimes petrels of another species, with brown borders on their wings, would come in sight; now there would be flocks of damiers skimming the water; and now groups of penguins, whose clumsy gait appears so ludicrous on shore; but, as Captain Hull pointed out, when their stumpy wings were employed as fins, they were a match for the most rapid of fish, so that sailors have often mistaken them for bonitos. High over head, huge albatrosses, their outspread wings measuring ten feet from tip to tip, would soar aloft, thence to swoop down towards the deep, into which they plunged their beaks in search of food. Such incidents and scenes as these were infinite in their variety, and it was accordingly only for minds that were obtuse to the charms of nature that the voyage could be monotonous. On the day the wind shifted, Mrs. Weldon was walking up and down on the "Pilgrim's" stern, when her attention was attracted by what seemed to her a strange phenomenon. All of a sudden, far as the eye could reach, the sea had assumed a reddish hue, as if it were tinged with blood. Both Dick and Jack were standing close behind her, and she cried,- "Look, Dick, look! the sea is all red. Is it a sea-weed that is making the water so strange a colour? "No," answered Dick, "it is not a weed; it is what the sailors call whales' food; it is formed, I believe, of innumerable myriads of minute crustacea." "Crustacea they may be," replied Mrs. Weldon, "but they must be so small that they are mere insects. Cousin Benedict no doubt will like to see them." She called aloud,- "Benedict! Benedict! come here! we have a sight here to interest you." The amateur naturalist slowly emerged from his cabin followed by Captain Hull. "Ah! yes, I see!" said the captain; "whales' food; just the opportunity for you, Mr. Benedict; a chance not to be thrown away for studying one of the most curious of the crustacea." "Nonsense!" ejaculated Benedict contemptuously; "utter nonsense!" "Why? what do you mean, Mr. Benedict?" retorted the captain; "surely you, as an entomologist, must know that I am right in my conviction that these crustacea belong to one of the six classes of the articulata." The disdain of Cousin Benedict was expressed by a repeated sneer. "Are you not aware, sir, that my researches as an entomologist are confined entirely to the hexapoda?" Captain Hull, unable to repress a smile, only answered good-humouredly,- "I see, sir, your tastes do not lie in the same direction as those of the whale." And turning to Mrs. Weldon, he continued,- "To whalemen, madam, this is a sight that speaks for itself. It is a token that we ought to lose no time in getting out our lines and looking to the state of our harpoons. There is game not far away." Jack gave vent to his astonishment. "Do you mean that great creatures like whales feed on such tiny things as these?" "Yes, my boy," said the captain; "and I daresay they are as nice to them as semolina and ground rice are to you. When a whale gets into the middle of them he has nothing to do but to open his jaws, and, in a minute, hundreds of thousands of these minute creatures are inside the fringe or whalebone around his palate, and he is sure of a good mouthful." "So you see, Jack," said Dick, "the whale gets his shrimps without the trouble of shelling them." "And when he has just closed his snappers is the very time to give him a good taste of the harpoon," added Captain Hull. The words had hardly escaped the captain's lips when a shout from one of the sailors announced,- "A whale to larboard!" "There's the whale!" repeated the captain. All his professional instincts were aroused in an instant, and he hurried to the bow, followed in eager curiosity by all the stern passengers. Even Cousin Benedict loitered up in the rear, constrained, in spite of himself, to take a share in the general interest. There was no doubt about the matter. Four miles or so to windward an unusual commotion in the water betokened to experienced eyes the presence of a whale; but the distance was too great to permit a reasonable conjecture to be formed as to which species of those mammifers the creature belonged. Three distinct species are familiarly known. First there is the Right whale, which is ordinarily sought for in the northern fisheries. The average length of this cetacean is sixty feet, though it has been known to attain the length of eighty feet. It has no dorsal fin, and beneath its skin is a thick layer of blubber. One of these monsters alone will yield as much as a hundred barrels of oil. Then there is the Hump-back, a typical representative of the species "balÃ¦noptera," a definition which may at first sight appear to possess an interest for an entomologist, but which really refers to two white dorsal fins, each half as wide as the body, resembling a pair of wings, and in their formation similar to those of the flying-fish. It must be owned, however, that a flying whale would decidedly be a . rara avis Lastly, there is the Jubarte, commonly known as the Finback. It is provided with a dorsal fin, and in length not unfrequently is a match for the gigantic Right whale. While it was impossible to decide to which of the three species the whale in the distance really belonged, the general impression inclined to the belief that it was a jubarte. With longing eyes Captain Hull and his crew gazed at the object of general attraction. Just as irresistibly as it is said a clockmaker is drawn on to examine the mechanism of every clock which chance may throw in his way, so is a whaleman ever anxious to plunge his harpoon into any whale that he can get within his reach. The larger the game the more keen the excitement; and no elephant-hunter's eagerness ever surpasses the zest of the whale-fisher when once started in pursuit of the prey. To the crew the sight of the whale was the opening of an unexpected opportunity, and no wonder they were fired with the burning hope that even now they might do something to supply the deficiency of their meagre haul throughout the season. Far away as the creature still was, the captain's practised eye soon enabled him to detect various indications that satisfied him as to its true species. Amongst other things that arrested his attention, he observed a column of water and vapour ejected from the nostrils. "It isn't a right whale," he said; "if so, its spout would be smaller and it would rise higher in the air. And I do not think it is a hump-back. I cannot hear the hump-back's roar. Dick, tell me, what do you think about it?" With a critical eye Dick Sands looked long and steadily at the spout. "It blows out water, sir," said the apprentice, "water, as well as vapour. I should think it is a finback. But it must be a rare large one." "Seventy feet, at least!" rejoined the captain, flushing with his enthusiasm. "What a big fellow!" said Jack, catching the excitement of his elders. [Illustration: "What a big fellow!"] "Ah, Jack, my boy," chuckled the captain, "the whale little thinks who are watching him enjoy his breakfast!" "Yes," said the boatswain; "a dozen such gentlemen as that would freight a craft twice the size of ours; but this one, if only we can get him, will go a good way towards filling our empty barrels." "Rather rough work, you know," said Dick, "to attack a finback!" "You are right, Dick," answered the captain; "the boat has yet to be built which is strong enough to resist the flap of a jubarte's tail." "But the profit is worth the risk, captain, isn't it?" "You are right again, Dick," replied Captain Hull, and as he spoke, he clambered on to the bowsprit in order that he might get a better view of the whale. The crew were as eager as their captain. Mounted on the fore-shrouds, they scanned the movements of their coveted prey in the distance, freely descanting upon the profit to be made out of a good finback and declaring that it would be a thousand pities if this chance of filling the casks below should be permitted to be lost. Captain Hull was perplexed. He bit his nails and knitted his brow. "Mamma!" cried little Jack, "I should so much like to see a whale close,-quite close, you know." "And so you shall, my boy," replied the captain, who was standing by, and had come to the resolve that if his men would back him, he would make an attempt to capture the prize. He turned to his crew,- "My men! what do you think? shall we make the venture? Remember, we are all alone; we have no whalemen to help us; we must rely upon ourselves; I have thrown a harpoon before now; I can throw a harpoon again; what do you say?" The crew responded with a ringing cheer,- "Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay!" About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (2005). Dick sands, the boy Captain. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3250.html.images This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

A WHALE IN SIGHT

Dick Sands the Boy Captain by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . THE "PILGRIM." here THE "PILGRIM." On the 2nd of February, 1873, the "Pilgrim," a tight little craft of 400 tons burden, lay in lat. 43Â° 57', S. and long. 165Â° 19', W. She was a schooner, the property of James W. Weldon, a wealthy Californian ship-owner who had fitted her out at San Francisco, expressly for the whale-fisheries in the southern seas. James Weldon was accustomed every season to send his whalers both to the Arctic regions beyond Behring Straits, and to the Antarctic Ocean below Tasmania and Cape Horn; and the "Pilgrim," although one of the smallest, was one of the best-going vessels of its class; her sailing-powers were splendid, and her rigging was so adroitly adapted that with a very small crew she might venture without risk within sight of the impenetrable ice-fields of the southern hemisphere: under skilful guidance she could dauntlessly thread her way amongst the drifting ice-bergs that, lessened though they were by perpetual shocks and undermined by warm currents, made their way northwards as far as the parallel of New Zealand or the Cape of Good Hope, to a latitude corresponding to which in the northern hemisphere they are never seen, having already melted away in the depths of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. For several years the command of the "Pilgrim" had been entrusted to Captain Hull, an experienced seaman, and one of the most dexterous harpooners in Weldon's service. The crew consisted of five sailors and an apprentice. This number, of course, was quite insufficient for the process of whale-fishing, which requires a large contingent both for manning the whale-boats and for cutting up the whales after they are captured; but Weldon, following the example of other owners, found it more economical to embark at San Francisco only just enough men to work the ship to New Zealand, where, from the promiscuous gathering of seamen of well-nigh every nationality, and of needy emigrants, the captain had no difficulty in engaging as many whalemen as he wanted for the season. This method of hiring men who could be at once discharged when their services were no longer required had proved altogether to be the most profitable and convenient. The "Pilgrim" had now just completed her annual voyage to the Antarctic circle. It was not, however, with her proper quota of oil-barrels full to the brim, nor yet with an ample cargo of cut and uncut whalebone, that she was thus far on her way back. The time, indeed, for a good haul was past; the repeated and vigourous attacks upon the cetaceans had made them very scarce; the whale known as "the Right whale," the "Nord-kapper" of the northern fisheries, the "Sulpher-boltone" of the southern, was hardly ever to be seen; and latterly the whalers had had no alternative but to direct their efforts against the Finback or Jubarte, a gigantic mammal, encounter with which is always attended with considerable danger. So scanty this year had been the supply of whales that Captain Hull had resolved next year to push his way into far more southern latitudes; even, if necessary, to advance to the regions known as Clarie and AdÃ©lie Lands, of which the discovery, though claimed by the American navigator Wilkes, belongs by right to the illustrious Frenchman Dumont d'Urville, the commander of the "Astrolabe" and the "ZÃ©lee." The season had been exceptionally unfortunate for the "Pilgrim." At the beginning of January, almost in the height of the southern summer, long before the ordinary time for the whalers' return, Captain Hull had been obliged to abandon his fishing-quarters. His hired contingent, all men of more than doubtful character, had given signs of such insubordination as threatened to end in mutiny; and he had become aware that he must part company with them on the earliest possible opportunity. Accordingly, without delay, the bow of the "Pilgrim" was directed to the northwest, towards New Zealand, which was sighted on the 15th of January, and on reaching Waitemata, the port of Auckland, in the Hauraki Gulf, on the east coast of North Island, the whole of the gang was peremptorily discharged. The ship's crew were more than dissatisfied. They were angry. Never before had they returned with so meagre a haul. They ought to have had at least two hundred barrels more. The captain himself experienced all the mortification of an ardent sportsman who for the first time in his life brings home a half-empty bag; and there was a general spirit of animosity against the rascals whose rebellion had so entirely marred the success of the expedition. Captain Hull did everything in his power to repair the disappointment; he made every effort to engage a fresh gang; but it was too late; every available seaman had long since been carried off to the fisheries. Finding therefore that all hope of making good the deficiency in his cargo must be resigned, he was on the point of leaving Auckland, alone with his crew, when he was met by a request with which he felt himself bound to comply. It had chanced that James Weldon, on one of those journeys which were necessitated by the nature of his business, had brought with him his wife, his son Jack, a child of five years of age, and a relation of the family who was generally known by the name of Cousin Benedict. Weldon had of course intended that his family should accompany him on his return home to San Francisco; but little Jack was taken so seriously ill, that his father, whose affairs demanded his immediate return, was obliged to leave him behind at Auckland with his wife and Cousin Benedict. Three months had passed away, little Jack was convalescent, and Mrs. Weldon, weary of her long separation from her husband, was anxious to get home as soon as possible. Her readiest way of reaching San Francisco was to cross to Australia, and thence to take a passage in one of the vessels of the "Golden Age" Company, which run between Melbourne and the Isthmus of Panama: on arriving in Panama she would have to wait the departure of the next American steamer of the line which maintains a regular communication between the Isthmus and California. This route, however, involved many stoppages and changes, such as are always disagreeable and inconvenient for women and children, and Mrs. Weldon was hesitating whether she should encounter the journey, when she heard that her husband's vessel, the "Pilgrim," had arrived at Auckland. Hastening to Captain Hull, she begged him to take her with her little boy, Cousin Benedict, and Nan, an old negress who had been her attendant from her childhood, on board the "Pilgrim," and to convey them to San Francisco direct. "Was it not over hazardous," asked the captain, "to venture upon a voyage of between 5000 and 6000 miles in so small a sailing-vessel?" But Mrs. Weldon urged her request, and Captain Hull, confident in the sea-going qualities of his craft, and anticipating at this season nothing but fair weather on either side of the equator, gave his consent. In order to provide as far as possible for the comfort of the lady during a voyage that must occupy from forty to fifty days, the captain placed his own cabin at her entire disposal. Everything promised well for a prosperous voyage. The only hindrance that could be foreseen arose from the circumstance that the "Pilgrim" would have to put in at Valparaiso for the purpose of unlading; but that business once accomplished, she would continue her way along the American coast with the assistance of the land breezes, which ordinarily make the proximity of those shores such agreeable quarters for sailing. Mrs. Weldon herself had accompanied her husband in so many voyages, that she was quite inured to all the makeshifts of a seafaring life, and was conscious of no misgiving in embarking upon a vessel of such small tonnage. She was a brave, high-spirited woman of about thirty years of age, in the enjoyment of excellent health, and for her the sea had no terrors. Aware that Captain Hull was an experienced man, in whom her husband had the utmost confidence, and knowing that his ship was a substantial craft, registered as one of the best of the American whalers, so far from entertaining any mistrust as to her safety, she only rejoiced in the opportuneness of the chance which seemed to offer her a direct and unbroken route to her destination. Cousin Benedict, as a matter of course, was to accompany her. He was about fifty; but in spite of his mature age it would have been considered the height of imprudence to allow him to travel anywhere alone. Spare, lanky, with a bony frame, with an enormous cranium, and a profusion of hair, he was one of those amiable, inoffensive who, having once taken to gold spectacles, appear to have arrived at a settled standard of age, and, however long they live afterwards, seem never to be older than they have ever been. savants Claiming a sort of kindredship with all the world, he was universally known, far beyond the pale of his own connexions, by the name of "Cousin Benedict." In the ordinary concerns of life nothing would ever have rendered him capable of shifting for himself; of his meals he would never think until they were placed before him; he had the appearance of being utterly insensible to heat or cold; he vegetated rather than lived, and might not inaptly be compared to a tree which, though healthy enough at its core, produces scant foliage and no fruit. His long arms and legs were in the way of himself and everybody else; yet no one could possibly treat him with unkindness. As M. Prudhomme would say, "if only he had been endowed with capability," he would have rendered a service to any one in the world; but helplessness was his dominant characteristic; helplessness was ingrained into his very nature; yet this very helplessness made him an object of kind consideration rather than of contempt, and Mrs. Weldon looked upon him as a kind of elder brother to her little Jack. It must not be supposed, however, that Cousin Benedict was either idle or unoccupied. On the contrary, his whole time was devoted to one absorbing passion for natural history. Not that he had any large claim to be regarded properly as a natural historian; he had made no excursions over the whole four districts of zoology, botany, mineralogy, and geology, into which the realms of natural history are commonly divided; indeed, he had no pretensions at all to be either a botanist, a mineralogist, or a geologist; his studies only sufficed to make him a zoologist, and that in a very limited sense. No Cuvier was he; he did not aspire to decompose animal life by analysis, and to recompose it by synthesis; his enthusiasm had not made him at all deeply versed in vertebrata, mollusca, or radiata; in fact, the vertebrata-animals, birds, reptiles, fishes-had had no place in his researches; the mollusca-from the cephalopoda to the bryozia-had had no attractions for him; nor had he consumed the midnight oil in investigating the radiata, the echmodermata, acalephÃ¦, polypi, entozoa, or infusoria. No; Cousin Benedict's interest began and ended with the articulata; and it must be owned at once that his studies were very far from embracing all the range of the six classes into which "articulata" are subdivided; viz, the insecta, the mynapoda, the arachnida, the crustacea, the cinhopoda, and the anelides; and he was utterly unable in scientific language to distinguish a worm from a leech, an earwig from a sea-acorn, a spider from a scorpion, a shrimp from a frog-hopper, or a galley-worm from a centipede. To confess the plain truth, Cousin Benedict was an amateur entomologist, and nothing more. Entomology, it may be asserted, is a wide science; it embraces the whole division of the articulata; but our friend was an entomologist only in the limited sense of the popular acceptation of the word; that is to say, he was an [Illustration: Cousin Benedict] observer and collector of insects, meaning by "insects" those articulata which have bodies consisting of a number of concentric movable rings, forming three distinct segments, each with a pair of legs, and which are scientifically designated as hexapods. To this extent was Cousin Benedict an entomologist; and when it is remembered that the class of insecta of which he had grown up to be the enthusiastic student comprises no less than ten [Footnote: These ten orders are (1) the orthoptera, grasshoppers and crickets; (2) the neuroptera, dragon-flies; (3) the hymenoptera, bees, wasps, and ants; (4) the lepidoptera, butterflies and moths; (5) the hemiptera, cicadas and fleas; (6) the coleoptera, cockchafers and glow-worms; (7) the diptera, gnats and flies; (8) the rhipiptera, the stylops; (9) the parasites, the acarus; and (10) the thysanura, the lepisma and podura.] orders, and that of these ten the coleoptera and diptera alone include 30,000 and 60,000 species respectively, it must be confessed that he had an ample field for his most persevering exertions. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. e.g. Every available hour did he spend in the pursuit of his favourite science: hexapods ruled his thoughts by day and his dreams by night. The number of pins that he carried thick on the collar and sleeves of his coat, down the front of his waistcoat, and on the crown of his hat, defied computation; they were kept in readiness for the capture of specimens that might come in his way, and on his return from a ramble in the country he might be seen literally encased with a covering of insects, transfixed adroitly by scientific rule. This ruling passion of his had been the inducement that had urged him to accompany Mr. and Mrs. Weldon to New Zealand. It had appeared to him that it was likely to be a promising district, and now having been successful in adding some rare specimens to his collection, he was anxious to get back again to San Francisco, and to assign them their proper places in his extensive cabinet. Besides, it never occurred to Mrs. Weldon to start without him. To leave him to shift for himself would be sheer cruelty. As a matter of course whenever Mrs. Weldon went on board the "Pilgrim," Cousin Benedict would go too. Not that in any emergency assistance of any kind could be expected from him; on the contrary, in the case of difficulty he would be an additional burden; but there was every reason to expect a fair passage and no cause of misgiving of any kind, so the propriety of leaving the amiable entomologist behind was never suggested. Anxious that she should be no impediment in the way of the due departure of the "Pilgrim" from Waitemata, Mrs. Weldon made her preparations with the utmost haste, discharged the servants which she had temporarily engaged at Auckland, and accompanied by little Jack and the old negress, and followed mechanically by Cousin Benedict, embarked on the 22nd of January on board the schooner. The amateur, however, kept his eye very scrupulously upon his own special box. Amongst his collection of insects were some very remarkable examples of new staphylins, a species of carnivorous coleoptera with eyes placed above their head; it was a kind supposed to be peculiar to New Caledonia. Another rarity which had been brought under his notice was a venomous spider, known among the Maoris as a "katipo;" its bite was asserted to be very often fatal. As a spider, however, belongs to the order of the arachnida, and is not properly an "insect," Benedict declined to take any interest in it. Enough for him that he had secured a novelty in his own section of research; the "Staphylin Neo-Zelandus" was not only the gem of his collection, but its pecuniary value baffled ordinary estimate; he insured his box at a fabulous sum, deeming it to be worth far more than all the cargo of oil and whalebone in the "Pilgrim's" hold. Captain Hull advanced to meet Mrs. Weldon and her party as they stepped on deck. "It must be understood, Mrs. Weldon," he said, courteously raising his hat, "that you take this passage entirely on your own responsibility." "Certainly, Captain Hull," she answered; "but why do you ask?" "Simply because I have received no orders from Mr. Weldon," replied the captain. [Illustration: Captain Hull advanced to meet Mrs. Weldon and her party.] "But my wish exonerates you," said Mrs. Weldon. "Besides," added Captain Hull, "I am unable to provide you with the accommodation and the comfort that you would have upon a passenger steamer." "You know well enough, captain," remonstrated the lady "that my husband would not hesitate for a moment to trust his wife and child on board the 'Pilgrim.' " "Trust, madam! No! no more than I should myself. I repeat that the 'Pilgrim' cannot afford you the comfort to which you are accustomed." Mrs. Weldon smiled. "Oh, I am not one of your grumbling travellers. I shall have no complaints to make either of small cramped cabins, or of rough and meagre food." She took her son by the hand, and passing on, begged that they might start forthwith. Orders accordingly were given; sails were trimmed; and after taking the shortest course across the gulf, the "Pilgrim" turned her head towards America. Three days later strong easterly breezes compelled the schooner to tack to larboard in order to get to windward. The consequence was that by the 2nd of February the captain found himself in such a latitude that he might almost be suspected of intending to round Cape Horn rather than of having a design to coast the western shores of the New Continent. Still, the sea did not become rough. There was a slight delay, but, on the whole, navigation was perfectly easy. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (2005). Dick sands, the boy Captain. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3250.html.images This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

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