Jack in the Forecastle or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale / Sleeper, John Sherburne

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Title: Jack in the Forecastle

Author: John Sherburne Sleeper

Release Date: August, 2005  [EBook #8638]
[This file was first posted on July 30, 2003]

Edition: 10

Language: English

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                      JACK IN THE FORECASTLE
                                OR
         INCIDENTS IN THE EARLY LIFE OF HAWSER MARTINGALE

              by John Sherburne Sleeper (1794-1878)

Chapter I
Farewell to New England

I was born towards the close of the last century, in a village
pleasantly situated on the banks of the Merrimack, in
Massachusetts.  For the satisfaction of the curious, and the
edification of the genealogist, I will state that my ancestors
came to this country from England in the middle of the
seventeenth century.  Why they left their native land to seek an
asylum on this distant shore   whether prompted by a spirit of
adventure, or with a view to avoid persecution for religion's
sake   is now unknown.  Even if they "left their country for
their country's good," they were undoubtedly as respectable,
honest, and noble, as the major part of those needy ruffians who
accompanied William the Conqueror from Normandy in his successful
attempt to seize the British crown, and whose descendants now
boast of their noble ancestry, and proudly claim a seat in the
British House of Peers.

From my earliest years I manifested a strong attachment to
reading; and as matters relating to ships and sailors captivated
my boyish fancy, and exerted a magic influence on my mind, the
"Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," "Peter Wilkins," "Philip
Quarle," and vagabonds of a similar character, were my favorite
books.  An indulgence in this taste, and perhaps an innate
dispostion to lead a wandering, adventurous life, kindled in my
bosom a strong desire, which soon became a fixed resolution, TO
GO TO SEA.  Indeed, this wish to go abroad, to encounter dangers
on the mighty deep, to visit foreign countries and climes, to
face shipwrecks and disasters, became a passion.  It was my
favorite theme of talk by day, and the subject of my dreams by
night.  As I increased in years my longing for a sailor's life
also increased; and whenever my schoolfellows and myself were
conversing about the occupations we should select as the means of
gaining a livelihood hereafter, I invariably said, "I will be a
sailor."

Had my parents lived, it is possible that this deep-seated
inclination might have been thwarted; that my destiny might have
taken another shape.  But my father died while I was quite young,
and my mother survived him but a few years.  She lived long
enough, however, to convince me that there is nothing more pure,
disinterested, and enduring than a mother's love, and that those
who are deprived of this blessing meet at the outset of their
pilgrimage a misfortune which can never be remedied.  Thus,
before I had numbered fifteen years, I found myself thrown a waif
on the waters of life, free to follow the bent of my inclination
to become a sailor.

Fortune favored my wishes.  Soon after the death of my parents, a
relation of my mother was fitting out a vessel in Portsmouth,
N.H., for a voyage to Demarara; and those who felt an interest in
my welfare, conceiving this a good opportunity for me to commence
my salt-water career, acceded to my wishes, and prevailed on my
relative, against his inclination, to take me with him as a cabin
boy.

With emotions of delight I turned my back on the home of my
childhood, and gayly started off to seek my fortune in the world,
with no other foundation to build upon than a slender frame, an
imperfect education, a vivid imagination, ever picturing charming
castles in the air, and a goodly share of quiet energy and
perseverance, modified by an excess of diffidence, which to this
day I have never been able to overcome.

I had already found in a taste for reading a valuable and never-
failing source of information and amusement.  This attachment to
books has attended me through life, and been a comfort and solace
in difficulties, perplexities, and perils.  My parents, also,
early ingrafted on my mind strict moral principles; taught me to
distinguish between right and wrong; to cherish a love of truth,
and even a chivalric sense of honor and honesty.  To this,
perhaps, more than to any other circumstance, may be attributed
whatever success and respectability has attended my career
through life.  It has enabled me to resist temptations to evil
with which I was often surrounded, and to grapple with and
triumph over obstacles that might otherwise have overwhelmed me.

When I reached Portsmouth, my kinsman, Captain Tilton, gave me an
ungracious reception.  He rebuked me severely for expressing a
determination to go to sea.

"Go to sea!" he exclaimed in a tone of the most sovereign
contempt.  "Ridiculous!  You are a noodle for thinking of such a
thing.  A sailor's life is a dog's life at best!  Besides, you
are not fit for a sailor, either by habits, taste, or
constitution.  With such a pale face, and slight figure, and
sheepish look, how can you expect to fight the battle of life on
the ocean, and endure all the crosses, the perils, and the rough-
and-tumble of a sailor's life?  Hawser, you are not fit for a
sailor.  You had much better go home and try something else."

Finding me unconvinced by his arguments, and unshaken in my
determination, he concluded his remarks by asking me abruptly the
startling question, "Are you ready to die?"

I replied, that I had not bestowed much thought on the subject;
but frankly admitted I was not altogether prepared for such a
solemn event.

"Then, Hawser," said he with marked emphasis, "if you are not
prepared to die   to die of YELLOW FEVER   don't go to Demarara
at this season of the year!"  And he left the room abruptly,
apparently disgusted at my obstinacy.

On the following day, Captain Tilton took me on board the brig
Dolphin.  I did not mark her imperfections, which were many.  She
was a vessel, bound on a voyage to a foreign port, and,
therefore, I was charmed with her appearance.  In my eyes she was
a model of excellence; as beautiful and graceful as the
celebrated barge in which Cleopatra descended the Cyndnus to meet
Mark Antony.

The captain led me to the mate, who was busily engaged about the
decks.  "Mr. Thompson," said he, "here is a lad who wants to go
to sea, and I have foolishly engaged to take him as a cabin boy.
Keep him on board the brig; look sharp after him; don't let him
have an idle moment; and, if possible, make him useful in some
way until the vessel is ready for sea."

Mr. William Thompson was a worthy man, who subsequently became a
shipmaster and merchant of great respectability in Portsmouth.
He treated me with consideration and kindness, and took pleasure
in teaching me the details of the business I was about to
undertake.

During the few days in which the Dolphin lay at the wharf I
gained much nautical information.  I learned the names of the
different parts of a vessel; of the different masts, and some
portions of the rigging.  But the great number of ropes excited
my admiration.  I thought a lifetime would hardly suffice to
learn their different names and purposes.  I accomplished
successfully the feat of going aloft; and one memorable day,
assisted the riggers in "bending sails," and received an ill-
natured rebuke from a crusty old tar, for my stupidity in failing
to understand him when he told me to "pass the gasket: while
furling the fore-topsail.  Instead of passing the gasket around
the yard, I gravely handed him a marlinspike!

In the course of my desultory reading, I had learned that vessels
at sea were liable to "spring a leak," which was one of the most
dreaded perils of navigation; and I had a vague notion that the
hold of a ship was always so arranged that a leak could be
discovered and stopped.  I was, therefore, not a little puzzled
when I found the hold of the Dolphin was crammed with lumber; not
a space having been left large enough to stow away the ghost of a
belaying pin.  Finding the captain in a pleasant mood one day, I
ventured to ask him what would be the consequence if the brig
should spring a leak in her bottom.

"Spring a leak in her bottom!" he replied, in his gruff manner;
"why, we should go to the bottom, of course"

The brig was now ready for sea.  The sailors were shipped, and I
watched them closely as they came on board, expecting to find the
noble-looking, generous spirited tars I had become so familiar
with in books.  It happened, however, that three out of the five
seamen who composed the crew were "old English men-of-war's-men,"
and had long since lost any refinement of character or rectitude
of principle they originally possessed.  They were brought on
board drunk by the landlord with whom they boarded; for the "old
tars" of those days   fifty years ago   had no homes; when on
shore all they cared for was a roof to shelter them, and plenty
of grog, in which they would indulge until their money was gone,
when they would go to sea and get more.

Now ensued the bustle incident to such occasions.  Captain
William Boyd, who had volunteered to pilot the brig down the
harbor, came on board; the sails were hoisted; the deck was
crowded with persons to take leave of their friends, or gratify a
morbid curiosity; and what with the numerous questions asked, the
running to and fro, the peremptory commands of the mate, the
unmusical singing and shouting of the crew as they executed the
various orders, together with the bawling of the handcartmen and
truckmen as they brought down the last of the trunks, chests,
stores, and provisions, my brain was in a whirl of excitement; I
hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels.

At last the captain came down the wharf, accompanied by Joshua
Haven, one of the owners, and some friends, who had made
arrangements to proceed in the brig so far as the mouth of the
harbor.  The single rope which connected the Dolphin with the
shore was cast loose; the pilot gave some orders; that were Greek
to me, in a loud and energetic tone; the men on the wharf gave
three cheers, which were heartily responded to by the temporary
passengers and crew; and with a pleasant breeze from the
westward, we sailed merrily down the river.

Some few persons lingered on the wharf, and continued for a time
to wave their handkerchiefs in token of an affectionate farewell
to their friends.  I seemed to stand alone while these
interesting scenes were enacted.  I took no part in the warm
greetings or the tender adieus.  I had bidden farewell to my
friends and relatives in another town some days before; and no
one took sufficient interest in my welfare to travel a few miles,
look after my comforts, and wish me a pleasant voyage as I left
my native land.

Although from the reception I had met with I had little reason to
expect present indulgences or future favors from my kinsman who
commanded the brig, I did not regret the step I had taken.  On
the contrary, my bosom bounded with joy when the last rope was
severed, and the vessel on whose decks I proudly stood was
actually leaving the harbor of Portsmouth, under full sail, bound
to a foreign port.  This was no longer "the baseless fabric of a
vision."  The dream of my early years had come to pass; and I
looked forward with all the confidence of youth to a bold and
manly career, checkered it might be with toil and suffering, but
replete with stirring adventure, whose wild and romantic charms
would be cheaply won by wading through a sea of troubles.  I now
realized the feeling which has since been so well described by
the poet:

"A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep.

"Like an eagle caged, I pine
On this dull, unchanging shore;
O, give me the flashing brine,
The spray, and the tempest's roar."


Chapter II
INCIDENTS AT SEA

The Dolphin was what is termed, in nautical parlance, an
"hermaphrodite brig," of about one hundred and fifty tons burden;
and had been engaged, for some twelve or fifteen years, in the
West India trade.  This vessel could not with propriety be
regarded as a model of grace and beauty, but gloried in bluff
bows, a flat bottom, and a high quarter-deck; carried a large
cargo for her tonnage, and moved heavily and reluctantly through
the water.

On this particular voyage, the hold of the brig, as I have
already stated, was filled with lumber; and thirty-five thousand
feet of the same article were carried on deck, together with an
indefinite quantity of staves, shooks, hoop poles, and other
articles of commerce too numerous to mention.  On this enormous
deck-load were constructed, on each side, a row of sheep-pens,
sufficiently spacious to furnish with comfortable quarters some
sixty or seventy sheep; and on the pens, ranged along in
beautiful confusion, was an imposing display of hen-coops and
turkey-coops, the interstices being ingeniously filled with
bundles of hay and chunks of firewood.  The quarter-deck was
"lumbered up" with hogsheads of water, and casks of oats and
barley, and hen-coops without number.

With such a deck-load, not an unusually large one in those days,
the leading trucks attached to the fore-rigging were about half
way between the main deck and the foretop.  It was a work of
difficulty and danger to descend from the deck-load to the
forecastle; but to reach the foretop required only a hop, skip,
and a jump.  The locomotive qualities of this craft, misnamed the
Dolphin, were little superior to those of a well constructed
raft; and with a fresh breeze on the quarter, in spite of the
skill of the best helmsman, her wake was as crooked as that of
the "wounded snake," referred to by the poet, which "dragged its
slow length along."

It was in the early part of July, in the year 1809, that the brig
Dolphin left Portsmouth, bound on a voyage to Dutch Guiana, which
at that time, in consequence of the malignant fevers that
prevailed on the coast, was not inaptly termed "the grave of
American seamen."  The crew consisted of the captain and mate,
five sailors, a green hand to act as cook, and a cabin boy.
There was also a passenger on board, a young man named Chadwick,
who had been residing in Portsmouth, and was going to Demarara,
in the hope   which fortunately for him was not realized   of
establishing himself in a mercantile house.

The forecastle being, for obvious reasons, untenable during the
outward passage, these ten individuals, when below deck, were
stowed away in the cabin and steerage, amid boxes, bales, chests,
barrels, and water casks, in a manner somewhat miscellaneous, and
not the most commodious or comfortable.  Indeed, for several days
after we left port, the usual and almost only access to the cabin
was by the skylight; and those who made the cabin their home,
were obliged to crawl on all fours over the heterogeneous mass of
materials with which it was crowded, in order to reach their
berths!

The owners of the brig must have calculated largely on favorable
weather during the passage; for had we experienced a gale on the
coast, or fallen in with the tail-end of a hurricane in the
tropics, the whole deck-load would have been swept away, and the
lives of the ship's company placed in imminent peril.  The
weather, however, proved remarkably mild, and the many
inconveniences to which the crew were subjected were borne with
exemplary patience, and sometimes even regarded as a capital
joke.

We passed the Whale's Back at the mouth of the Piscataqua, and
the Isles of Shoals loomed up through the hazy atmosphere; and
although the wind was light, and the sea apparently smooth, the
brig began to have a motion   an awkward, uneasy motion   for
which I could not account, and which, to my great annoyance,
continued to increase as we left the land.  I staggered as I
crossed the quarter-deck, and soon after we cleared the harbor,
came near pitching overboard from the platform covering the
sheep-pens.  My head was strangely confused, and a dizziness
seized me, which I in vain struggled to shake off.  My spirits,
so gay and buoyant as we sailed down the harbor, sunk to zero.

At length I could not resist the conviction that I was assailed
with symptoms of seasickness, a malady which I had always held in
contempt, believing it to exist more in imagination than in fact,
and which I was determined to resist, as unsailor-like and
unmanly.  Other symptoms of a less equivocal description, soon
placed the character of my illness beyond a doubt.  My woe-begone
looks must have betrayed my feelings, for one of the men told me,
with a quizzical leer, that old Neptune always exacted toll in
advance from a green hand for his passage over the waters.

Mr. Thompson, who seemed to pity my miserable condition, gravely
assured me that exercise was a capital thing as a preventive or
cure for seasickness, and advised me to try the pump.  I followed
his advice: a few strokes brought up the bilge water, than which
nothing at that time could have been more insufferably nauseous!
I left the pump in disgust, and retiring to the after part of the
quarter-deck, threw myself down on a coil of rope, unable longer
to struggle with my fate.  There I remained unnoticed and uncared
for for several hours, when, the wind having changed, the rope
which formed my bed, and proved to be the "main sheet," was
wanted, and I was unceremoniously ejected from my quarters, and
roughly admonished to "go below and keep out of the way!"  I
crawled into the cabin, and, stretched on some boxes, endeavored
to get a little sleep; but the conglomeration of smells of a most
inodorous character, which, as it seemed to my distempered fancy,
pervaded every part of the vessel, prevented my losing a sense of
suffering in sleep.

As I lay musing on the changes which a few days had wrought in my
condition, and, borne down by the pangs of seasickness, was
almost ready to admit that there was prose as well as poetry in a
sailor's life, I was startled by a terrific noise, the
announcement, I supposed, of some appalling danger.  I heard
distinctly three loud knocks on the deck at the entrance of the
steerage, and then a sailor put his head down the companion-way,
and in a voice loud, cracked, and discordant, screamed in a tone
which I thought must have split his jaws asunder, "LA-AR-BO-A-RD
W-A-T-CH A-H-O-O-Y."

In spite of my sickness I started from my uncomfortable resting
place, scrambled into the steerage, and by a roll of the brig was
tumbled under the steps, and suffered additional pains and
apprehensions before I ascertained that the unearthly sounds
which had so alarmed me were nothing more than the usual mode of
"calling the watch," or in other words, the man with the
unmusical voice had gently hinted to the sleepers below that
"turn-about was fair play," and they were wanted on deck.

To add to my troubles, the wind in the morning shifted to the
south-east, and thus became a head wind, and the old brig became
more restless than ever, and pitched and rolled to leeward
occasionally with a lurch, performing clumsy antics in the water
which my imagination never pictured, and which I could neither
admire nor applaud.

For several days we were beating about Massachusetts Bay and St.
George's Bank, making slow progress on our voyage.  During that
time I was really seasick, and took little note of passing
events, being stretched on the deck, a coil of rope, or a chest,
musing on the past or indulging in gloomy reflections in regard
to the future.  Seasickness never paints ideal objects of a
roseate hue.  Although I was not called upon for much actual
work, I received no sympathy for my miserable condition; for
seasickness, like the toothache, is seldom fatal, notwithstanding
it is as distressing a malady as is found in the catalogue of
diseases, and one for which no preventive or cure, excepting
time, has yet been discovered.  Time is a panacea for every ill;
and after the lapse of ten or twelve days, as the brig was
drawing towards the latitude of Bermuda, my sickness disappeared
as suddenly as it commenced; and one pleasant morning I threw
aside my shore dress, and with it my landsman's habits and
feelings.  I donned my short jacket and trousers, and felt every
inch a sailor!

The Bermudas are a cluster of small islands and rocks lying in
the track of vessels bound from New England to the West Indies.
The climate is mild, and the atmosphere remarkably salubrious,
while the trace of ocean in the vicinity has long been noted for
severe squalls at every season of the year.  A squall at sea   no
unusual occurrence   is often the cause of anxiety, being
attended with danger.  Sometimes the rush of wind is so violent
that nothing will resist its fury, and before the alarm is given
and the canvas reduced, the masts are blown over the side or the
vessel capsized.  Therefore, on the approach of a squall, a
vigilant officer will be prepared for the worst, by shortening
sail and making other arrangements for averting the threatened
danger.

I hardly knew how it happened, but one afternoon when we were a
little to the northward of Bermuda, and should have kept a
lookout for squalls, we were favored with a visit from one of a
most energetic character.  Its sudden approach from under the lee
was either unnoticed or unheeded until the captain accidentally
came on deck.  He was instantly aware of the perilous condition
of the brig, for the "white caps" of the waves could be
distinctly seen, and even the roar of the wind could be heard as
it rushed towards us over the water.  Before any orders could be
executed   before the sails could be taken in, the yards braced
round, or even the helm shifted, the tempest broke over us.  The
rain fell in torrents, the wind blew with tremendous violence,
and a scene of indescribable confusion ensued.

The captain stood near the companion-way, much excited, giving
directions with energy and rapidity.   "Hard up your helm!" said
he; "Hard up!  Lower away the mainsail!  Let go the peak
halliards!  Why DON'T you put the helm hard up?  Let go all the
halliards fore and aft!  Clew down the fore-topsail!  Haul in the
starboard braces!  There   steady with the helm!"

The mate and sailors were running about the decks, looking
frightened and bewildered, eagerly casting loose some ropes, and
pulling desperately upon others; the sails were fluttering and
shaking, as if anxious to quit the spars and fly away to unknown
regions; the brig felt the force of the wind, and for a few
moments was pressed over on her side until her beam ends were in
the water; and what with the shouting of the captain, the
answering shouts of the mate, the unearthly cries of the sailors,
as they strove to execute the orders so energetically given; the
struggling of the canvas, the roaring of the winds and the waves,
the creaking of the cordage, the beating of the rain against the
decks, and the careening of the vessel, it is not remarkable that
I felt somewhat alarmed and excited, as well as deeply interested
in witnessing for the first time in my life A SQUALL AT SEA.

The squall was of short duration; although the rain continued for
a time, the wind, after a few minutes, gave but little
inconvenience.  In the course of an hour the murky clouds had
disappeared, the sun shone out brightly as it was sinking towards
the horizon, and the brig was again pursuing her way towards her
destined port, urged slowly along by a light but favorable
breeze.

Having got my sea legs on, I could proudly strut about among the
lumber and sheep-pens without fear of rolling overboard.  I found
the sailors a rough but good-natured set of fellows, with but
little refinement in ideas or language.  Although they amused
themselves with my awkwardness, and annoyed me with practical
jokes, they took a pride and pleasure in inducting me into the
mysteries of their craft.  They taught me the difference between
a granny knot and a square knot; how to whip a rope's end; form
splices; braid sinnett; make a running bowline, and do a variety
of things peculiar to the web-footed gentry.  Some of them also
tried hard, by precept and example, but in vain, to induce me to
chew tobacco and drink grog!  Indeed, they regarded the ability
to swallow a stiff glass of New England rum, without making a wry
face, as one of the most important qualifications of a sailor!

The "old men-of-war's-men" had passed through strange and
eventful scenes; they were the type of a class of men which have
long since passed away; they could spin many a long and
interesting yarn, to which I listened with untiring eagerness.
But no trait in their character astonished me more than their
uncontrollable passion for intoxicating drinks.  As cabin boy, it
was my duty to serve out to the crew a half pint of rum a day.
These old Tritons eagerly looked forward to the hour when this
interesting ceremony came off; their eyes sparkled as they
received their allotted portion of this enemy to the human race;
and they practised every art to procure, by fair means or foul,
an increased allowance.  If by accident or shrewd management one
of them succeeded in obtaining half a glass more than he was
fairly entitled to, his triumph was complete.   But if he
imagined he had not received the full quantity which was his due,
ill humor and sulky looks for the next twenty-four hours bore
testimony to his anger and disappointment.  These men ignored the
good old proverb that "bread is the staff of life," and at any
time, or at all times, would prefer grog to bread.

In those days it was believed that ardent spirit would strengthen
the constitution, and enable a man to endure hardship and perform
labor to a greater extent that would be the case if he drank
nothing stronger than water.  Rum was, therefore, included among
the ship's stores as an important means of keeping the ship's
company in good humor, reviving their spirits and energies when
overcome with fatigue or exposure, and strengthening them for a
hard day's work.

Those days have passed away.  It is now known that those
doctrines were false; that spiritous liquors, as a drink, never
benefit mankind, but have proved one of the greatest scourges
with which the human race has been afflicted.  It is no longer
believed that grog will insure the faithful performance of a
seaman's duty, and it is excluded from our ships, so far as the
forecastle is concerned; and if it were never allowed to visit
the cabin, the crews, in some cases, would lead happier lives,
there would be fewer instances of assault and battery, revolts
and shipwrecks, and the owners and underwriters would find the
balance at the end of the voyage more decidedly in their favor.

Among the customs on shipboard which attracted my particular
attention, was the manner in which the sailors partook of their
meals.  There was no tedious ceremony or fastidious refinement
witnessed on these occasions.  At twelve o'clock the orders were
promptly given, "Call the watch!  Hold the reel!  Pump ship!  Get
your dinners!"  With never-failing alacrity the watch was called,
the log thrown, and the ship pumped.  When these duties were
performed, a bustle was seen about the camboose, or large cooking
stove, in which the meals were prepared.  In pleasant weather it
was usual for the sailors to take their meals on deck; but no
table was arranged, no table-cloth was spread, no knives and
forks or spoons were provided, no plates of any description were
furnished, or glass tumblers or earthen mugs.  The preliminary
arrangements were of the simplest description.

The signal being given, the cook hastily transferred from his
boilers whatever food he had prepared, into a wooden vessel,
called a kid, resembling in size and appearance a peck measure.
The kid with its contents was deposited on the spot selected; a
bag or box, containing ship's biscuits was then produced,
dinner was ready, and all hands, nothing loth, gathered around
the kid and commenced operations.

The usual fare was salt beef and bread, varied at stated times or
according to circumstances; and this has probably for centuries
been the standing dish for the forecastle in English and American
ships.  On this passage, the Sunday dinner varied from the usual
routine by the addition of fresh meat.  Every Sabbath morning a
sheep, the finest and fattest of the flock, was missing from the
pens.  Portions of the animal, however, would appear a few hours
afterwards in the shape of a luscious sea-pie for the sailors,
and in various inviting shapes during the following week to the
inmates of the cabin.  This loss of property was recorded by Mr.
Thompson in the ship's log-book, with his accustomed accuracy,
and with Spartan brevity.  The language he invariably used was,
"A sheep died this day."

Among the crew of the Dolphin were two weather-beaten tars, who
were as careless of their costumes as of their characters.  They
recked little how ridiculously they looked, excepting in one
respect.  They could each boast of a magnificent head of hair,
which they allowed to grow to a great length on the back of the
head, where it was collected and fashioned into enormous queues,
which, when permitted to hang down, reached to the small of their
backs, and gave them the appearance of Chinese mandarins, or
Turkish pachas of a single tail.  These tails were their pets
the only ornaments about their persons for which they manifested
any interest.  This pride in their queues was the weak point in
their characters.  Every Sunday they performed on each other the
operation of manipulating the pendulous ornaments, straightening
them out like magnified marlinspikes, and binding them with
ribbons or rope-yarns, tastily fastened at the extremity by a
double bow knot.

Queues, in those days, were worn on the land as well as on the
sea, and were as highly prized by the owners.  On the land, they
were harmless enough, perhaps, and seldom ungratefully interfered
with the comfort of their benefactors or lured them into scrapes.
On shipboard the case was different, and they sometimes proved
not only superfluous but troublesome.

On our homeward passage a case occurred which illustrated the
absurdity of wearing a queue at sea   a fashion which has been
obsolete for many years.  A gale of wind occurred on the coast,
and the crew were ordered aloft to reef the fore-topsail.  Jim
Bilton, with his queue snugly clubbed and tucked away beneath his
pea-jacket, was first on the yard, and passed the weather ear-
ring; but, unfortunately, the standing rigging had recently been
tarred, and his queue, escaping from bondage, was blown about,
the sport of the wind, and after flapping against the yard, took
a "round turn" over the lift, and stuck fast.  Jim was in an
awkward position.  He could not immediately disengage his queue,
and he could not willingly or conveniently leave it aloft.  All
hands but himself were promptly on deck, and ready to sway up the
yard.  The mate shouted to him in the full strength of his lungs
to "Bear a hand and lay in off the yard," and unjustly berated
him as a "lubber," while the poor fellow was tugging away, and
working with might and main, to disengage his tail from the lift,
in which he at length succeeded, but not without the aid of his
jackknife.

I was greatly troubled during this passage by the impure
character of the water.  I had been taught to place a high value
on water as a beverage; but when we had been three weeks at sea,
and had entered the warm latitudes, on knocking a bung from one
of the water casks on the quarter-deck, there issued an odor of
"an ancient and fish-like" nature, which gave offence to my
olfactories.  On tasting the water, I found to my disgust that it
was impregnated with a flavor of a like character, and after it
was swallowed this flavor would cling to the palate with
provoking tenacity for several minutes.  The sailors smacked
their lips over it once or twice, and pronounced it "from fair to
middling."   When boiled, and drank under the name of tea or
coffee, it might have deserved that character; but when taken
directly from the cask, and quaffed in hot weather, as a pleasant
and refreshing beverage it was a signal failure.

To the inmates of the cabin, myself excepted, the peculiar flavor
of the water served as an excuse, if any were required, for
drawing liberally on the brandy kegs and liquor cases.  A little
"dash of spirit" removed the unpleasant taste by adding another,
which, to my unsophisticated palate, was equally offensive.  The
water in every cask proved of a similar character; and I could
hardly imagine how use, or even necessity, could reconcile a
person to such water as that.  The problem was solved, but not
entirely to my satisfaction, on my next voyage.

The duties of cabin boy were of a nature different from my
occupations in previous years.  They engrossed a considerable
portion of my time; and though they were not the kind of duties I
most loved to perform, I endeavored to accommodate my feelings to
my situation, comforting myself with the belief that the voyage
would not be of long duration, and that I was now taking the
first step in the rugged path which led to fame and fortune.

I devoted the hours which I could spare from my appropriate
duties to the acquisition of a knowledge of seamanship, and
developing its mysteries.  I was fond of going aloft when the
vessel was rolling or pitching in a strong breeze.  I loved to
mount upon the top-gallant yard, and from that proud eminence,
while rocking to and fro, look down upon the sails and spars of
the brig, take a bird's eye view of the deck, and scan the
various operations; look at the foam beneath the bows, or at the
smooth, eddying, serpentine track left far behind.  I also loved
to gaze from this elevated position upon the broad ocean, bounded
on every side by the clear and distant horizon   a grand and
sublime sight.  And then I indulged in daydreams of the most
pleasing description, and built gay and fantastic castles in the
air, which my reason told me the next moment would never be
realized.


Chapter III
MANNING THE WOODEN WALLS OF OLD ENGLAND

One morning, soon after daybreak, as I was lying asleep in my
berth, I was awakened by a trampling on deck and loud shouts.
Aware that something unusual had occurred, I lost no time in
hastening to the scene of action.   Ere I reached the deck, I
heard the word "porpoises" uttered in a loud key by one of the
sailors, which explained the cause of the excitement.

The mate, with sparkling eye and rigid features, in which
determination was strongly stamped, as if resolved "to do or
die," was busily engaged in fitting a line to the harpoon, which
had been sharpened and prepared for use some days before.  I cast
my eye to windward, and saw the ocean alive with fish.  Hundreds
of porpoises were swimming around the brig, crossing the bows, or
following in the wake, or leaping out of water and snuffing the
air, and racing with each other as if for a wager; passing so
rapidly through the liquid element that it wearied the eye to
follow them.

The mate was soon ready with the harpoon, and took his station on
the bowsprit, within six feet of the water.  The line, one end of
which was fastened to the harpoon, was rove through a block
attached to the main-topmast stay; and the cook, one of the
sailors, and myself firmly grasped the rope, and stood ready,
whenever the word might be given, to bowse the unsuspecting and
deluded victim out of his native element and introduce him to the
ship's company.

Mr. Thompson stood on the bowsprit, poising the death-dealing
instrument, and with a keen eye watched the gambols of the fish.
He looked as formidable and fierce as a Paladin intent on some
daring and desperate enterprise.  As I eyed him with admiration
and envy I wondered if the time would ever arrive when, clad with
authority, I should exercise the privilege of wielding the
harpoon and striking a porpoise!  Several of these interesting
fish, not aware of the inhospitable reception awaiting them, and
seemingly prompted by curiosity, rapidly approached the brig.
"Stand by, my lads!" exclaimed the mate, his face lighted by a
gleam of anticipated triumph.  One huge fellow passed directly
beneath the bowsprit, and Mr. Thompson let drive the harpoon with
all the strength and energy he possessed.  We hauled upon the
line with vigor   alas!  It required but little exertion to haul
it in; the mate had missed his mark.

In a few minutes another of these portly inhabitants of the deep
came rolling along with a rowdy, swaggering gait, close to the
surface of the water.  The mate, cool and collected, took a
careful aim, and again threw the iron, which entered his victim,
and then shouted with the voice of a Stentor, "Haul in!  Haul
in!" And we did haul in; but the fish was strong and muscular,
and struggled hard for liberty and life.  In spite of our prompt
and vigorous exertions, he was dragged under the brig's bottom;
and if he had not been struck in a workmanlike manner, the
harpoon would have drawn out, and the porpoise would have
escaped, to be torn to pieces by his unsympathizing companions.
As it was, after a severe struggle on both sides, we roused him
out of the water, when the mate called for the jib down-haul,
with which he made a running bowline, which was clapped over his
tail and drawn tight; and in this inglorious manner he was hauled
in on the deck.

The porpoise is a fish five or six feet in length, weighing from
one hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds.  The name is
derived from the Italian word PORCO-PERCE, or hog-fish; and
indeed this animal resembles a hog in many respects.  It has a
long head, terminated by a projection of its jaws, which are well
filled with sharp teeth, white as polished ivory.  The body is
covered with a coat of fat, or blubber, from one to three inches
in thickness, which yields abundance of excellent oil; and the
flesh beneath is not very unlike that of a hog, but more oily,
coarser, and of a darker color.  The flesh, excepting the
harslet, is not much prized, though some sailors are fond of it,
and rejoice at the capture of a porpoise, which gives them an
agreeable change of diet.

A few days after this event, being to the southward of Bermuda, I
climbed to the fore-top-gallant yard, and casting my eyes around,
saw on the verge of the horizon a white speck, which made a
singular appearance, contrasting, as it did, with the dark hue of
the ocean and the clear azure of a cloudless sky, I called to a
sailor who was at work in the cross-trees, and pointed it out to
him.  As soon as he saw it he exclaimed, "Sail, ho!"

The captain was on the quarter-deck, and responded to the
announcement by the inquiry of "Where away?"

"About three points on the larboard bow," was the rejoinder.

We had not spoken a vessel since we left Portsmouth.  Indeed, we
had seen none, excepting a few fishing smacks on St. George's
Bank.  The sight of a vessel on the broad ocean ordinarily
produces considerable excitement; and this excitement is of a
pleasing character when there is no reason to believe the
stranger an enemy.  It varies the incidents of a tedious passage,
and shows that you are not alone on the face of the waters; that
others are traversing the ocean and tempting its dangers, urged
by a love of adventure or thirst of gain.

The captain looked at the strange vessel through his spy-glass,
and said it was standing towards us.  We approached each other
rapidly, for the stranger carried a cloud of sail, and was
evidently a fast sailer.  By the peculiar color and cut of the
canvas, the captain was led to believe we were about to be
overhauled by a British man-of-war.  This announcement gave me
pleasure.  I longed for an opportunity to behold one of that
class of vessels, of which I had heard so much.  But all the crew
did not participate in my feelings.  Two of the sailors, whom I
had good reason to believe were not "native Americans," although
provided with American protections, looked unusually grave when
the captain expressed his opinion, manifested no little anxiety,
and muttered bitter curses against the English men-of-war!

I then learned that the British navy   "the wooden walls of Old
England"   whose vaunted prowess was in every mouth, was manned
almost exclusively by men who did not voluntarily enter the
service, prompted by a feeling of patriotism, a sense of honor,
or the expectation of emolument, but were victims to the unjust
and arbitrary system of impressment.

It is singular that in the early part of the present century,
when Clarkson, Wilberforce, and other philanthropists, with a
zeal and perseverance which reflects immortal honor on their
names, labored unceasingly and successfully to abolish an
important branch of the African slave trade, no voice was raised
in the British parliament to abolish the impressment of seamen
a system of slavery as odious, unjust and degrading, as was ever
established by a despotic government!

At that time Great Britain was engaged in sanguinary wars, and
her flag was borne by her ships on every sea.  It was difficult
to man her navy, the pay being small, and the penalties for
misconduct or venial errors terribly severe.  Therefore, when on
the ocean, British ships of war in want of men were in the habit
of impressing sailors from merchant vessels, and often without
regard to national character.  American ships were fired at,
brought to, and strictly searched by these tyrants of the ocean;
and when foreigners were found on board, whether British, Swedes,
Dutch, Russians, Norwegians, or Spaniards, they were liable to be
claimed as fit persons to serve "His Majesty."  In spite of
remonstrances and menaces, they were conveyed on board the
British men-of-war, doomed to submit to insult and injustice, and
to risk their lives while fighting in quarrels in which they felt
no interest.

British seamen were seized wherever met, whether pursuing their
lawful business on the high seas, or while on shore walking
quietly through the streets of a city or town; even in the bosom
of their families, or when quietly reposing on their pillows!
Press-gangs, composed of desperate men, headed by resolute and
unscrupulous officers, were constantly on the lookout for men,
and took them, sometimes after hard fighting, and dragged them
away to undergo the horrors of slavery on board a man-of-war!

It is not remarkable that a sailor in those days should have
dreaded a "man-of-war" as the most fearful of evils, and would
resort to desperate means to avoid impressment or escape from
bondage.  Those few fortunate men, who, by resolution or cunning,
had succeeded in escaping from their sea-girt prisons, detailed
the treatment they had received with minute and hideous accuracy
to others; and that they could not have exaggerated the
statements is proved by the risks they voluntarily encountered to
gain their freedom.  The bullets of the marines on duty, the fear
of the voracious shark in waters where they abounded, the dangers
of a pestilential climate, or the certainty, if retaken, of being
subjected to a more revolting and excruciating punishment than
was every devised by the Spanish Inquisition   FLOGGING THROUGH
THE FLEET   could not deter British seamen from attempting to
flee from their detested prison-house.

American seamen were sometimes forcibly taken from American
ships, and their protestations against the outrage, and their
repeated declarations, "I am an American citizen!" served only as
amusement to the kidnappers.  Letters which they subsequently
wrote to their friends, soliciting their aid, or the intercession
of the government, seldom reached their destination.  It was
rarely that the poor fellows were heard of after they were
pressed on board a man-of-war.  They died of disease in
pestilential climates, or fell in battle while warring in behalf
of a government they hated, and principles with which they had no
sympathy.

This gross violation of the laws of nations and the principles of
justice furnished one of the strongest motives for the war which
was declared in 1812.

Nor were these insults on the part of British cruisers confined
to American merchant ships.  Our government vessels were, in more
than one instance, boarded with a view to examine the crews and
take the men, if any, who happened to be born under the British
flag.  A successful attempt was made in the case of the
Chesapeake, which frigate, under the command of Commodore Barron,
made a feeble show of resistance, and was fired into in a time of
peace, several of her crew killed and wounded, and compelled to
strike her colors!  The Chesapeake was then boarded, and the
Englishmen found on board were seized upon and transferred to the
British ship!

 An attempt of a similar kind was made some years before, but
with a different result.  When the heroic Tingey commanded the
Ganges, in 1799, being off Cape Nicola Mole, he was boarded by a
boat from the English frigate Surprise, and a demand was very
coolly made that all the Englishmen on board the Ganges should be
given up, as they were wanted for the service of His Majesty,
George III!

Captain Tingey returned the following noble reply: "Give my
respects to your commander; the respects of Captain Tingey, of
the American navy; and tell him from me, that A PUBLIC SHIP
CARRIES NO PROTECTION FOR HER MEN BUT HER FLAG!  I may not
succeed in a contest with you, but I will die at my quarters
before a man shall be taken from my ship!"

The crew gave three cheers, hastened with alacrity to their guns,
and called for "Yankee Doodle."  The captain of the Surprise,
although one of the bravest officers in the British service, on
hearing the determination of the Yankee, chose rather to continue
on his cruise than do battle for dead men.

In less than an hour after the strange sail was seen from the
decks of the Dolphin the surmises of the captain were proved to
be correct.  The stranger was undoubtedly an English brig-of-war
of the largest class.  We could see the port-holes, through which
the cannon protruded, and distinguish the gleam of muskets and
cutlasses, and other instruments of destruction.  The sails were
so large and so neatly fitted, and the hull was so symmetrical in
its model, and the brig glided along so gracefully over the
waves, that I was charmed with her appearance, and could hardly
express my satisfaction.

We continued on our course, with the American ensign flying, our
captain hoping that this emissary of John Bull, seeing the
character of our vessel, which no one could mistake, would suffer
us to pass on our way unmolested, when a volume of flame and
smoke issued from the bow of the sloop-of-war, and a messenger,
in the shape of a cannon ball, came whistling over the waves,
and, after crossing our bows in a diagonal direction, and
striking the surface of the water several times, buried itself in
a huge billow at no great distance.  This was language that
required no interpreter.  It was a mandate that must be obeyed.
The helm was ordered "hard-a-lee," the foresail hauled up, and
the topsail laid to the mast.

The armed brig hoisted British colors, and her boat was soon
alongside the Dolphin.  An officer sprang on board, followed by
several sailors.  With an off-hand, swaggering air, the officer
addressed Captain Tilton, demanding where we were from, whither
we were bound, and the character of our cargo.  He then expressed
an intention to examine the ship's papers, and went with the
captain into the cabin for that purpose.  When they returned on
deck, Captain Tilton ordered the mate to summon aft the crew.
This was not a work of difficulty, for they were standing in the
waist, deeply interested spectators of the proceedings.  At least
three of them were trembling with fear, and speculating on the
chances of being again impressed on board an English man-of-war.

"Where are these men's protections?" demanded the lieutenant.

By "protection," was meant a printed certificate, under the
signature and seal of the collector of one of the revenue
districts in the United States, stating that the person, whose
age, height, and complexion were particularly described, had
adduced satisfactory proof of being an American citizen.  An
American seaman found without this document, whether in a foreign
port or on the high seas, was looked upon as an Englishman,
notwithstanding the most conclusive proof to the contrary, and
regardless of his rights or the engagements by which he might be
bound, was dragged on board a man-of-war as a lawful prize.

"Here are the protections," said Captain Tilton, handing the
papers to the Englishman.

The men were, one by one, examined, to see if the descriptions
corresponded with their persons.  They were found to correspond
exactly.

The officer was not to be easily balked of his prey.  Turning
suddenly to one of them, a weather-beaten, case-hardened old tar,
who wore a queue, and whose name was borne on the shipping paper
as Harry Johnson, he sternly asked, "How long is it since you
left His Majesty's service?"

The poor fellow turned pale as death.  He lifted his hand to his
hat, in a most anti-republican style, and stammered out something
indistinctly.

"'Tis of no use, Johnson," exclaimed the officer.  "I see how it
is; and we must be better acquainted.  Your protection was
obtained by perjury.  Get ready to go in the boat."

In vain Captain Tilton represented that Johnson was sailing under
the American flag; that he had the usual certificate of being an
American citizen; that his vessel was already short manned,
considering the peculiar character of the cargo, and if his crew
should be reduced, he might find himself unable to manage the
brig in heavy weather, which there was reason to expect at that
season in the latitude of the West Indies.

To these representations the lieutenant replied in a brief and
dry manner.  He said the man was an Englishman, and was wanted.
He repeated his orders to Johnson, in a more peremptory tone, to
"go in the boat."

To the threats of the captain that he would lay the matter before
Congress, and make it a national affair, the officer seemed
altogether indifferent.  He merely bade his trembling victim
"bear a hand," as he wished to return to the brig without delay.

When Johnson saw there was no alternative, that his fate was
fixed, he prepared to meet it like a man.  He looked at the
American ensign, which was waving over his head, and said it was
a pity the American flag could not protect those who sailed under
it from insult and outrage.  He shook each of us by the hand,
gave us his best wishes, and followed his baggage into the boat,
which immediately shoved off.

The officer told Captain Tilton that when the British ensign was
hauled down, he might fill away, and proceed on his voyage.  In
about fifteen minutes the ensign was hauled down.  Orders were
given to fill away the foretopsail.  The helm was put up, and we
resumed our course for Demarara.

Steering to the southward, we reached that narrow belt of the
Atlantic, called "the doldrums," which lies between the variable
and the trade winds.  This tract is from two to three degrees in
width, and is usually fallen in with soon after crossing the
thirtieth degree of latitude.  Here the wind is apt to be light
and baffling at all seasons; and sometimes calms prevail for
several days.  This tract of ocean was once known as the "horse
latitudes," because many years ago vessels from Connecticut were
in the habit of taking deck-loads of horses to the West India
islands, and it not unfrequently happened that these vessels,
being for the most part dull sailers, were so long detained in
those latitudes that their hay, provender, and water were
expended, and the animals died of hunger and thirst.

The Dolphin was a week in crossing three degrees of latitude.
Indeed it was a calm during a considerable portion of that time.
This drew largely on the patience of the captain, mate, and all
hands.  There are few things so annoying to a sailor at sea as a
calm.  A gale of wind, even a hurricane, with its life, its
energy, its fury, though it may bring the conviction of danger,
is preferred by an old sailor to the dull, listless monotony of a
calm.

These slow movements in the "horse latitudes" were not
distasteful to me.  A calm furnished abundant food for curiosity.
The immense fields of gulf-weed, with their parasitical
inhabitants, that we now began to fall in with; the stately
species of nautilus, known as he Portuguese man-of-war, floating
so gracefully, with its transparent body and delicate tints; and
the varieties of fish occasionally seen, including the flying-
fish, dolphin, boneta, and shark, all furnish to an inquiring
mind subjects of deep and abiding interest.  My wonder was also
excited by the singularly glassy smoothness of the surface of the
water in a dead calm, while at the same time the long, rolling
waves, or "seas," kept the brig in perpetual motion, and swept
past as if despatched by some mysterious power on a mission to
the ends of the earth.

Several kinds of fish that are met with on the ocean are really
palatable, and find a hearty welcome in the cabin and the
forecastle.  To capture these denizens of the deep, a line, to
which is attached a large hook baited with a small fish, or a
piece of the rind of pork, shaped to resemble a fish, is
sometimes kept towing astern in pleasant weather.  This was the
custom on board the Dolphin; and one afternoon, when the brig,
fanned by gentle zephyrs, hardly had "steerage way," my attention
was aroused by an exulting shout from the man at the helm,
followed by a solemn asserveration, that "a fish was hooked at
last."

All was bustle and excitement.  Discipline was suddenly relaxed,
and the captain, mate, and crew mounted the taffrail forthwith to
satisfy their curiosity in regard to the character of the
prowling intruder, which was distinctly seen struggling in the
wake.  It proved to be a shark.  But the fellow disdained to be
captured by such ignoble instruments as a cod line and a halibut
hook.  He remained comparatively passive for a time, and allowed
himself to be hauled, by the united efforts of the crew, some
three or four fathoms towards the brig, when, annoyed by the
restraint imposed upon him, or disliking the wild and motley
appearance of the ship's company, he took a broad sheer to
starboard, the hook snapped like a pipestem, and the hated
monster swam off in another direction, wagging his tail in the
happy consciousness that he was "free, untrammelled, and
disinthralled."

"Never mind," said Mr. Thompson, making an effort to console
himself for the disappointment, "we'll have the rascal yet."

The shark manifested no disposition to leave our neighborhood, or
in any other way showed displeasure at the trick we had played
him.  On the contrary, he drew nearer the vessel, and moved
indolently and defiantly about, with his dorsal fin and a portion
of his tail above the water.  He was undoubtedly hungry as well
as proud, and it is well known that sharks are not particular
with regard to the quality of their food.  Every thing that is
edible, and much which is indigestible, is greedily seized and
devoured by these voracious fish.

We had no shark hook on board; nevertheless, the mate lost no
time in making arrangements to capture this enemy of sailors.  He
fastened a piece of beef to the end of a rope and threw it
overboard, letting it drag astern.  This attracted the attention
of the shark, who gradually approached the tempting morsel,
regarding it with a wistful eye, but with a lurking suspicion
that all was not right.

It was now seen that the shark was not alone, but was attended by
several fish of small size, beautifully mottled, and measuring
from four to eight or ten inches in length.  They swam boldly
around the shark, above and beneath him, and sometimes passed
directly in front of his jaws, while the shark manifested no
desire to seize his companions and satisfy his hunger.  These
were "pilot fish," and in the neighborhood of the tropics a shark
is seldom seen without one or more attendants of this
description.

Two of these pilot fish swam towards the beef, examined it
carefully with their eyes, and rubbed it with their noses, and
then returned to their lord and master.  It required but a slight
stretch of the imagination to suppose that these well-meaning
servants made a favorable report, and whispered in his ear that
"all was right," and thus unwittingly betrayed him to his ruin.

Be that as it will, the shark now swam boldly towards the beef,
as if eager to devour it; but Mr. Thompson hauled upon the rope
until the precious viand was almost directly beneath the
taffrail.  In the mean time the mate had caused a running
bowline, or noose, to be prepared from a small but strong rope.
This was lowered over the stern into the water, and by a little
dexterous management, the shark was coaxed to enter it in his
eagerness to get at the beef.  The mate let fall the running part
of the bowline and hauled upon the other, and to the utter
bewilderment of the hungry monster, he found himself entrapped
in the power of his mortal enemies   being firmly and
ingloriously fastened by the tail.  When he discovered the
inhospitable deception of which he was the victim he appeared
angry, and made furious efforts to escape; but the rope was
strong, and his struggles served only to draw the noose tighter.

The shark was hauled on board, and made a terrible flouncing on
the quarter-deck before he could be despatched.  It was
interesting to witness the eagerness with which he was assailed
by the sailors.  This animal is regarded as their most inveterate
foe, and they seize with avidity any chance to diminish the
numbers of these monsters of the deep.  It was some time before
he would succumb to the murderous attacks of his enemies.  He
wreaked his vengeance on the ropes around him, and severed them
with his sharp teeth as completely and smoothly as if they had
been cut with a knife.  But when his head was nearly cut off, and
his skull beat in by the cook's axe and handspikes, the shark,
finding further resistance impossible as well as useless,
resigned himself to his fate.

Sharks not unfrequently follow a vessel in moderate weather for
several days, and in tropical latitudes sometimes lurk under a
ship's bottom, watching a chance to gratify their appetites.  For
this reason it is dangerous for a person to bathe in the sea
during a calm, as they are by no means choice in regard to their
food, but will as readily make a meal from the leg of a sailor as
from the wing of a chicken.

Mr. Thompson related a case which occurred on board a vessel
belonging to Portsmouth, the year before, and to which he was a
witness.  One Sunday morning, in the warm latitudes, while the
sea was calm, a young man, on his first voyage, quietly undressed
himself, and without a word to any one, thoughtlessly mounted the
cathead and plunged into the water.  He swam off some distance
from the ship, and laughing and shouting, seemed greatly to
admire the refreshing exercise.  The captain, on being informed
of his imprudent conduct, called to him, rebuked him severely,
and ordered him to return immediately to the ship.  The young
sailor turned about, wondering what impropriety there could be in
taking a pleasant bath during such sultry weather.  He swam
beneath the fore-chain-wales, and took hold of a rope to aid him
in getting on board.  A couple of his shipmates also seized him
by the wrists to assist him in climbing up the side.  For a
moment he remained motionless, with half his body in the water,
when a huge shark, that had been lying in wait under the ship's
bottom, seized him by the leg.  The unfortunate young man uttered
the most piteous screams, and every one was instinctively aware
of the cause of his terrible agony.  The captain ordered the men
who held the arms of the sufferer to "hold on," and jumped in the
chain-wale himself to assist them.  By main strength the poor
fellow was dragged fainting on board; but his foot was torn off,
together with a portion of the integuments of the leg, and the
bones were dreadfully crushed.  He lived in agony a few days,
when he expired.  Incidents of this nature will satisfactorily
account for the hatred which a sailor bears towards a shark.


Chapter IV
LAND, HO!

     On the day succeeding the capture of the shark a fine breeze
sprung up.  Once more the white foam appeared beneath the bows,
as the old brig plunged, and rolled, and wriggled along on her
way towards Demarara.  With a strong breeze on the quarter, it
required not only labor, but skill, to steer the interesting
craft.  One of the "old salts," having been rebuked by the
captain for steering wildly, declared, in a grave but respectful
tone, that he could steer as good a trick at the helm as any man
who ever handled a marlinspike; but he "verily believed the old
critter knew as much as a Christian, and was obstinately
determined to turn round and take a look at her starn!"

The regular "trade wind" now commenced, and there was a prospect,
although still a distant one, of ultimately reaching the port to
which we were bound.  The trade winds blow almost constantly from
one direction, and prevail in most parts of the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, between the latitudes of twenty-eight degrees
north and twenty-eight degrees south.  In northern latitudes the
trade wind blows from north-east, or varies but a few points from
that direction.  South of the equator it blows constantly from
the south-east; and the "south-east trade" is more steady than
the trade wind north of the line.

It often happens that vessels bound to the United States from
India, after passing the Cape of Good Hope, steer a course nearly
north-west, carrying studding-sails on both sides,
uninterruptedly, through fifteen or twenty degrees of latitude.

The cause of the trade winds is supposed to be the joint
influence of the higher temperature of the torrid zone and the
rotation of the earth on its axis.  On the equator, and extending
sometimes a few degrees on either side, is a tract where light
easterly winds, calms, and squalls, with thunder, lightning, and
inundating rains, prevail.

From what I have said, it will be seen that vessels bound from
the American coast to the West Indies or Guiana should steer to
the eastward in the early part of their passage, while they have
the advantage of variable winds.  And this precaution is the more
important, as these vessels, being generally dull sailers and
deeply laden, will fail to reach their port if they fall to
leeward, unless by returning north into the latitude of the
variable winds, and making another trial, with the benefit of
more experience.

In those days there were no chronometers in use, and but few of
our West India captains were in possession of a sextant, or
indeed able to work a lunar observation.  The latitude was
accurately determined every day by measuring the altitude of the
sun as it passed the meridian.  To ascertain the longitude was a
more difficult matter.  They were obliged to rely mainly on their
dead reckoning; that is, to make a calculation of the course and
distance run daily, from the points steered by the compass and
the rate as indicated by the log-line and half-glass.  A
reckoning on such a basis, where unknown currents prevail, where
a vessel is steered wildly, or where the rate of sailing may be
inaccurately recorded, is liable to many errors; therefore it was
customary with all prudent masters, in those days, especially if
they distrusted their own skill or judgment in keeping a
reckoning to KEEP WELL TO THE EASTWARD.  This was a general rule,
and looked upon as the key to West India navigation.  Sometimes a
vessel bound to the Windward Islands, after reaching the latitude
of her destined port, found it necessary to "run down," steering
due west, a week or ten days before making the land.

An incident occurred in those waters, a few weeks after we passed
over them, which will illustrate this mode of navigation, and the
consequences that sometimes attend it.  A large brig belonging to
an eastern port, and commanded by a worthy and cautious man, was
bound to St. Pierre in Martinico.  The latitude of that island
was reached in due time, but the island could not bee seen, the
captain having steered well to the eastward.  The brig was put
before the wind, and while daylight lasted every stitch of canvas
was spread, and every eye was strained to catch a glimpse of the
high land which was expected to loom up in the western horizon.
This proceeding continued for several days; the brig carrying a
press of sail by day, and lying to by night, until patience
seemed no longer a virtue.  The worthy captain began to fear he
had not steered far enough to the eastward, but had been carried
by unknown currents to leeward of his port, and that the first
land he should make might prove to be the Musquito coast on the
continent.  He felt anxious, and looked in vain for a vessel from
which he could obtain a hint in regard to his true position.
Neither land nor vessel could he meet with.

At the close of the fifth day after he had commenced "running
down," no land, at sunset, was in sight from the top-gallant
yard; and at eight o'clock the brig was again hove to.  The
captain declared with emphasis, that unless he should make the
island of Martinico on the following day, he would adopt some
different measures.  The nature of those measures, however, he
never was called upon to explain.  In the morning, just as the
gray light of dawn was visible in the east, while a dark cloud
seemed to hang over the western horizon, all sail was again
packed on the brig.  A fresh breeze which sprung up during the
night gave the captain assurance that his passage would soon be
terminated; and terminated it was, but in a manner he hardly
anticipated, and which he certainly had not desired.  The brig
had not been fifteen minutes under way when the dreadful sound of
breakers was heard   a sound which strikes dismay to a sailor's
heart.  The dark cloud in the west proved to be the mountains of
Martinico, and the brig was dashed upon the shore.  The vessel
and cargo were lost, and it was with difficulty the crew were
saved.

Captain Tilton, however, was a good navigator.  He had been a
European trader, understood and practised "lunar observations,"
and always knew with sufficient accuracy the position of the
brig.

Few things surprised me more on my first voyage to sea than the
sudden and mysterious manner in which the coverings of the head
were spirited away from the decks of the Dolphin.  Hats, caps,
and even the temporary apologies for such articles of costume,
were given unwittingly and most unwillingly to the waves.  A
sudden flaw of wind, the flap of a sail, an involuntary jerk of
the head, often elicited an exclamation of anger or a torrent of
invectives from some unfortunate being who had been cruelly
rendered bareheaded, attended with a burst of laughter from
unsympathizing shipmates.

The inimitable Dickens, in his best production, says, with all
the shrewdness and point of a practical philosopher, "There are
very few moments in a man's existence when he experiences so much
ludicrous distress, or meets with so little commiseration, as
when he is in pursuit of his own hat."  But, unfortunately, on
shipboard, if a man's hat is taken off by the wind, he cannot
chase it and recover it; nor is it swept from his sight into the
DEPTHS of the sea.  On looking astern, he will see it gracefully
and sportively riding on the billows, as if unconscious of any
impropriety, reckless of the inconvenience which such desertion
may cause its rightful proprietor, and an object of wonder, it
may be, to the scaly inhabitants of old Neptune's dominions.

Before we reached Demarara every hat and cap belonging to the
ship's company, with a single exception, had been involuntarily
given, as a propitiatory offering, to the god of Ocean.  This
exception was a beaver hat belonging to the captain; and this
would have followed its leaders, had it not been kept in a case
hermetically sealed.   After the captain's stock of sea-going
hats and caps had disappeared he wore around his head a kerchief,
twisted fancifully, like a turban.  Others followed his example,
while some fashioned for themselves skullcaps of fantastic shapes
from pieces of old canvas; so that when we reached Demarara we
looked more like a ship's company of Mediterranean pirates than
honest Christians.

I became accustomed to a sea life, and each succeeding day
brought with it some novelty to wonder at or admire.  The sea is
truly beautiful, and has many charms, notwithstanding a fresh-
water poet, affecting to be disgusted with its monotony, has ill
naturedly vented his spleen by describing the vanities of a sea
life in two short lines:

"Where sometimes you ship a sea,
And sometimes see a ship."

Yet in spite of its attractions, there are few persons, other
than a young enthusiast on his first voyage, who, after passing
several weeks on the ocean, are not ready to greet with gladness
the sight of land, although it may be a desolate shore or a
barren island.  Its very aspect fills the heart with joy, and
excites feelings of gratitude to Him, whose protecting hand has
led you safely through the dangers to which those who frequent
the waste of waters are exposed.

The gratification of every man on board the Dolphin may therefore
be conceived, when, after a passage of FIFTY-THREE DAYS, in a
very uncomfortable and leaky vessel, a man, sent one morning by
the captain to the fore-top-gallant yard, after taking a bird's
eye view from his elevated position, called out, in a triumphant
voice, LAND, HO!

The coast of Guiana was in sight.

Guiana is an extensive tract of country, extending along the sea
coast from the Orinoco to the Amazon.  When discovered in 1504,
it was inhabited by the Caribs.  Settlements, however, were soon
made on the shore by the Dutch, the French, and the Portuguese;
and the country was divided into several provinces.  It was
called by the discoverers "the wild coast," and is accessible
only by the mouths of its rivers   the shores being every where
lined with dangerous banks, or covered with impenetrable forests.
Its appearance from the sea is singularly wild and uncultivated,
and it is so low and flat that, as it is approached, the trees
along the beach are the first objects visible.  The soil,
however, is fertile, and adapted to every variety of tropical
production,   sugar, rum, molasses, coffee, and cacao being its
staple commodities.

To the distance of thirty or forty miles from the sea coast the
land continues level, and in the rainy season some districts are
covered with water.  Indeed, the whole country bordering on the
coast is intersected with swamps, marshes, rivers, artificial
canals, and extensive intervals.  This renders it unhealthy; and
many natives of a more genial clime have perished in the
provinces of Guiana by pestilential fevers.

These marshes and forests are nurseries of reptiles.  Alligators
of immense size are found in the rivers, creeks, and pools, and
serpents are met with on the swampy banks of the river, as large
as the main-topmast of a merchant ship, and much larger!  The
serpents being amphibious, often take to the water, and being
driven unconsciously down the rivers by the currents, have been
fallen in with on the coast several miles from the land.

An incident took place on this coast in 1841, on board the bark
Jane, of Boston, Captain Nickerson, which created quite a
sensation on the decks of that vessel.  The bark was ready for
sea, and had anchored in the afternoon outside the bar at the
mouth of the Surinam River, when the crew turned in and the watch
was set that night.  The bark was a well-conditioned, orderly
vessel, harboring no strangers, interlopers, or vagrants of any
description.

The next morning, soon after daybreak, the mate put his hand into
an open locker, at a corner of the round-house, for a piece of
canvas, when it came in contact with a soft, clammy substance,
which, to his consternation and horror, began to move!  He drew
back, uttering an exclamation, in a voice so loud and startling
as to alarm the captain and all hands, who hastened on deck in
time to see an enormous serpent crawl sluggishly out of the
closet, and stretch himself along the deck, with as much coolness
and impudence as if he thought he really belonged to the brig,
and with the monkeys and parrots, constituted a portion of the
ship's company!

Not so thought Captain Nickerson and the brave men with him.  The
word was passed along   "There is a snake on board, as long as
the main-top bowline!  Kill him, kill him!"

The sailors seized handspikes, the cook flourished his
tormentors, the mate wielded an axe, and the captain grasped a
pistol!  Thus equipped and armed, they rushed to the encounter.

The reptile found himself among foes instead of friends.  Where
he looked for hospitality and kind treatment he found cruelty,
oppression, and even murder!  He saw it was useless to contend
against his fate when the odds were so decidedly against him, and
wisely made no resistance.  He was stabbed by the cook, cudgelled
by the crew, brained by the mate, and shot by the captain.  And,
adding insult to injury, he was stripped of his skin, which was
beautifully variegated and measured fourteen feet in length, and
brought to Boston, where it was examined and admired by many of
the citizens.

This snake was doubtless an aboma, a species of serpent of large
size and great beauty, which is not venomous.  In attempting to
cross the river, it had probably been drifted down with the
current, and carried out to sea.  It might have been swimming
about in the waters for some time without finding a resting-
place, and, having fallen in with a vessel at anchor, thought no
harm would accrue to itself or others if it should silently glide
on board through the rudder-hole, and take up its residence for
the night.  But Captain Nickerson entertained a different
opinion.  He looked upon "his snakesnip" as an "ugly customer,"
and gave him a reception as such.

In the course of the day on which land was discovered we reached
the mouth of Demarara River, and received a pilot on board, and a
queer-looking fellow, for a pilot I thought him.  He was a negro,
with a skin dark as ebony, which shone with an exquisite polish.
His costume was simplicity itself   consisting of an old straw
hat, and a piece of coarse "osnaburg" tied around the waist!  But
he was active and intelligent, notwithstanding his costume and
color, and carried the brig over the bar in safety.  Soon after
twilight the Dolphin was snugly anchored in smooth water in the
river opposite the capital of the province.

The next morning, at an early hour, I went on deck, anxious to
scrutinize the surrounding objects.  The river was about a mile
and a half wide, the tide flowed with great rapidity, and the
waters were turbid in the extreme.  The shores were lined with
trees and shrubs, presenting nothing of an attractive character.
A number of vessels, chiefly English and American, were moored in
the river, engaged in taking in or discharging cargoes; and
sundry small schooners, called "droghers," manned by blacks,
nearly naked, were sailing up or down the river, laden with
produce.

The town, half concealed in the low, swampy grounds, appeared
insignificant and mean, and the wharves and landing places at the
river's side were neither picturesque nor beautiful.  The
architecture of the houses, however, with porticoes, verandas,
and terraces, excited my admiration.  I also saw, in the
distance, palm and cocoanut trees, and banana and plantain
shrubs, with leaves six or eight feet long.  These Various
objects, with the sultry stagnation of the atmosphere, and the
light and airy costume of those of the inhabitants I had seen
convinced me that I was not laboring under a dream, but was
actually in a foreign port, two thousand miles from home, and in
a tropical climate.

The following day being Sunday, I accompanied Mr. Thompson on a
visit to the market, in order to obtain a supply of fresh
provisions and vegetables.  I was surprised to find the public
market open on the Sabbath.  The very idea of such a custom
conflicted with my pre-conceived notions of propriety and
religion.  But Sunday was a great holiday in Demarara   indeed
the only day which the slaves on the plantations could call their
own.  On Sunday they were allowed to visit each other, frolic as
they pleased, cultivate their little gardens, make their
purchases at the shops which were open on that day, and carry
their produce to market.

Hence the spacious market square, in the midst of the town, was
covered with articles of traffic.  The venders were chiefly negro
women, who exposed for sale immense quantities of yams, tomatoes,
cassava bread, sugar-cane, plantains, water-cresses, oranges,
bananas, avocado pears, etc., with fancy articles of almost every
description.

The scene was a novel and interesting one.  The market women were
habited in garments of a marvelously scanty pattern, better
adapted to the sultry character of the climate than to the
notions of delicacy which prevail among civilized people in a
more northern clime.  The head-dress consisted, in almost every
instance, of a calico kerchief, of gaudy colors, fantastically
wreathed around the head.  They were respectful in their
deportment, exhibited their wares to the best advantage, and with
cheerful countenances and occasional jokes, accompanied with
peals of merry laughter, seemed happier than millionaires or
kings!  Their dialect was a strange jumble of Dutch, English, and
African.  All were fond of talking, and, like aspiring
politicians in happy New England, neglected no chance to display
their extraordinary power of language.  And such a jabbering,
such a confusion of tongues, as I listened to that Sunday morning
in the market-place of Demarara, overwhelmed me with wonder, and
days elapsed before I could get the buzz out of my head!

In answer to inquiries relative to the health of the place, it
was gratifying to learn that the province had not been so free
from yellow fever at that season for several years.  While the
Dolphin remained in port but few fatal cases occurred in the
harbor, and the origin of those could be traced to intemperance
or other imprudent conduct.  There was no serious sickness on
board the brig while we remained, and only one "regular drunken
scrape."  This occurred a few days after we arrived in port.  Two
of the crew, on some plausible pretext, one afternoon obtained
leave of Mr. Thompson to go on shore.  He cautioned them to keep
sober, and be early on board, and they solemnly promised to
comply with his instructions.

But these "noble old tars" had no sooner set their feet upon the
land than they rushed to a grog shop.  It is well know that grog
shops are found in abundance in all parts of the world where
civilization extends its genial influence.  Temptations of the
most alluring character are every where offered to weak-minded
and unprincipled men to abandon the prerogative of reason and
become brutes.  In exchange for their money, these sailors
procured the means of becoming drunk!  They quarreled with the
shopkeeper, insulted his customers, were severely threshed for
their brutality and insolence, and were finally picked up in the
street, and brought on board by two of the crew of an American
vessel which was moored near the Dolphin.

They looked wretchedly enough.  Their clothes, which were neat
and trim when they went ashore, were mostly torn from their
backs, their faces were bruised and bloody, and their eyes
surrounded by livid circles.  Their shipmates, seeing their
degraded condition, assisted them on board, and persuaded them to
go into the forecastle, which was now appropriated to the
accommodation of the ship's company.  But instead of retiring to
their berths, and sleeping off the effects of their liquor, these
men determined to have a ROW.

The craziest of them made his way on deck, and began to sing, and
dance, and halloo like a madman.  One of his shipmates, named
Wilkins, remonstrated against such unruly conduct, and received
in return a blow on the side of the head, which sent him with
great force against the gunwale.  The peacemaker, indignant at
such unexpected and undeserved treatment, returned the blow with
interest.  The other inebriate, hearing the disturbance, came to
the assistance of his drunken companion.  A general fight ensued;
some heavy blows were interchanged, and for a few minutes there
was a scene of confusion, profanity, and hard fighting on the
decks of the Dolphin, which showed me a new, and not very
attractive phase in the sailor's character.

Mr. Thompson, armed with authority and a heaver, soon made his
appearance among them, and with the assistance of the sober ones,
after a severe struggle, succeeded in mastering and pinioning the
two men, who, though in full possession of their physical
faculties, were actually crazed with alcoholic drinks.  When thus
rendered harmless, their yells were terrific, until it was found
necessary for the peace of the harbor to GAG THEM; which was done
by gently placing an iron pump-bolt between the jaws of each of
the maniacs, and fastening it by a rope-yarn behind the ear.
Thus, unable to give utterance to their feelings, and exhausted
by fruitless struggles, they fell asleep.

In the morning cool reflection came.  They looked as ruefully as
Don Quixote after his battle with the shepherds, and bore as many
marks of the prowess of their opponents.  But, unlike "the Knight
of the Rueful Countenance," they seemed heartily ashamed of their
exploits, and promised better behavior in future.

Nevertheless, a few days after this affair, Jim Bilton, one of
the men who had figured so conspicuously in the row, and owed
Wilkins a grudge for the black eye he had received in the melee,
challenged his shipmate to a "fair stand-up fight!"

The challenge was accepted; but as the main deck of the brig was
still "lumbered up," and the forecastle furnished a field
altogether too confined for such recreations, it was agreed that
this "stand-up fight" should take place while each of the
combatants were sitting astride a chest!  Accordingly a large
chest was roused up from below, and placed athwart-ships on the
forecastle, between the bowsprit bitts and the cathead.  The
parties took their seats on the ends of the chest, facing each
other, and the business was to be settled by hard knocks.

The men faced each other boldly, some weighty compliments were
interchanged, when Bilton, to avoid a favor from his antagonist
which in all probability would have finished him, slipped off the
end of the chest, to the disgust of his shipmates and his own
everlasting disgrace.

One of the crew, however, who was ingenious at expedients, and
determined to see fair play, by means of a hammer and a tenpenny
nail fastened both parties firmly to the chest by the seats of
their canvas trousers.  There being no longer a possibility of
BACKING OUT, the battle was resumed, but did not last long; for
Bilton soon received a blow on his left temple, which, in spite
of the tenpenny nail, knocked him off the chest, and decided the
contest.


Chapter V
DEMARARA

A circumstance occurred not long before our arrival at Demarara,
which, being somewhat remarkable in its character, furnished a
fruitful theme for conversation and comment.  This was the
arrival of a vessel from Cadiz, with only one person on board.

It seems that a Captain Shackford, of Portsmouth, N.H., was the
master and owner of a sloop of some sixty or eighty tons.  He
proceeded to Cadiz, and there took in a cargo for Guiana.  When
on the eve of sailing, his crew, dissatisfied with some of his
proceedings, left the vessel.

Captain Shackford, a resolute but eccentric man, resolved not to
be disappointed in his calculations, or delayed in his voyage by
the desertion of his crew, and boldly put to sea on the day
appointed for sailing, trusting in his own unaided efforts and
energies to manage the vessel on a passage across the ocean of
thirty-five hundred miles.  He was seventy-four days on his
passage; but brought his vessel into port in tolerable order,
having experienced no difficulty on his way, and losing only one
day of his reckoning.

The arrival of a vessel in Demarara, under such singular
circumstances, caused quite a sensation among the authorities,
and gave rise to suspicions by no means favorable to the
character of the captain as an honest man, and which his long,
tangled locks and hirsute countenance   for he had not combed his
hair or shaved his face during the passage   tended to confirm.
It was thought by some that a mutiny might have broken out among
the crew of the sloop, which resulted in scenes of violence and
bloodshed, and that this wild-looking man was the only survivor
of a desperate struggle between the officers and crew.  Indeed,
he looked not unlike a mutineer and murderer.

Captain Shackford was indignant at these suspicions, and would
hardly deign to give explanations.  It was fortunate for him that
some vessels belonging to Portsmouth were in the harbor, the
captains of which recognized him as an old acquaintance, and
vouched for his character as an honest, well-meaning man,
although at times indulging in strange freaks, more akin to
madness than method.  He was released from arrest, and
subsequently disposed of his merchandise at remunerating prices,
and with a cargo of assorted articles, and a crew, sailed for a
port in the United States.

After the cargo of the Dolphin was discharged, preparations were
made for receiving a return cargo, to consist principally of
molasses.  The process of taking in and stowing a cargo of this
description is a peculiar one; and as I shall recur to this
subject hereafter, I avail myself of this opportunity to
describe, briefly, the mode of operation.

The empty casks are carefully stowed in the hold, with small
pieces of board between the quarter-hoops of each cask, so that
the bilge of a cask shall touch no other substance whatever.  The
bungholes must also be uppermost; thus, in the brief but
expressive language of commerce, "every cask must be bung up and
bilge free."  A "molasses hose" is then procured, consisting of a
half barrel with a hole in the bottom, to which is attached a
leathern hose an inch and a half in diameter, and long enough to
reach to the most distant part of the hold.   A hogshead filled
with molasses is then hoisted over the hatchway, hung down, and
the hose-tub is placed directly beneath; the bung is taken out,
and the molasses passes through the hose to any cask in the hold
that may be wished. When the cask is filled the hose is shifted
to another, and in this way the casks are all filled and the
cargo stowed.  The process is tedious; and although a sweet, by
no means a pleasant one, to those engaged in it.

It may be imagined that the crew, after working all day among
molasses in that hot climate, should wish to bathe in the
evening; and the river alongside, although the element was
neither pure nor transparent, offered, at high or low water, a
tempting opportunity.  To the very natural and proper inquiry
whether the harbor of Demarara was infested with sharks   a man-
eating shark not being the most desirable "companion of the bath"
  we were told that a shark had never been seen in the harbor;
that the river water, being turbid and fresher than the ocean
water, was offensive to that much dreaded animal, which delights
in the clear waters of the salt sea.  We were further told that
up the river, in the creeks and pools which abound in that
region, alligators were met with in large numbers; some of them
of large size, and had been known to attack a man in the water;
but they never ventured down the river among the shipping.

The reports being thus favorable, the crew of the Dolphin, being
good swimmers, were indeed, whenever it was "slack water" of an
evening, to take a swim in the river; and the crews of other
American vessels followed the example.  One evening, at twilight,
there were swimming about and sporting in the water, deriving the
highest enjoyment from this healthy and refreshing exercise, some
fifteen or twenty American sailors.  On the following day an
incident occurred, which operated as an impressive warning
against bathing in the waters of the Demarara.

On the afternoon of that day, a sailor at work on the mizzen-
topsail yard of an English ship moored within the distance of a
cable's length from the Dolphin, accidentally fell from the yard.
As he fell he caught hold of the main brace, and was suspended
for a minute over the water.  There was quite a commotion on the
deck of the ship, which attracted the attention of the crews of
neighboring vessels.  On hearing the distressing cry of the man,
and witnessing the tumult on board the ship, the crew of the
Dolphin ran to the side of the brig and gazed with interest on
the scene.

The poor fellow was unable to retain his hold of the rope until
he could receive assistance.  He fell into the water alongside,
but rose to the surface almost immediately, and being,
apparently, a good swimmer, struck out vigorously towards the
ship.  Some of his shipmates jumped into the boat to pick him up,
as, notwithstanding his exertions, he was swept away by the tide;
but none of the lookers-on apprehended any danger.

While we were intently watching the result, the unfortunate man
gave a shrill and piercing shriek; and we then saw by the
commotion in the water, and the appearance of a large fin above
the surface, that a shark had seized the unlucky sailor, which
caused him to give utterance to that dreadful cry.  He
immediately sank with his prey, and the muddy state of the water
prevented the ruthless monster or his victim from being seen.

We were still gazing on the spot where this fearful tragedy was
enacted, transfixed and mute with horror, when the shark again
rose to the surface, bearing in his jaws the lifeless body of the
English sailor; and for a brief period we beheld the voracious
fish devouring his human food.

The cargo of the Dolphin being completed, there ensued the usual
bustle and confusion in making preparations for sea.  Owing to
the lateness of the season, Captain Tilton was unwilling to
encounter the storms of the New England coast in a vessel hardly
seaworthy, and expressed an intention to proceed to Charleston,
in South Carolina.

About a week before we left Demarara a small English brig-of-war
arrived in the harbor, causing much consternation among the
sailors, and not without reason.  The brig was deficient in her
complement of men, and this deficiency was supplied by
impressment from crews of British vessels in port.  The commander
was a young man, who in common with most of the British naval
officers of that day, had an exalted opinion of his dignity and
importance, and held the Yankees in contempt.

The pennant at the main is a distinguishing mark of a man-of-war,
and it was considered disrespectful on the part of the master of
a merchant vessel to wear a pennant in the presence of a cruiser.
But on the Sunday following the arrival of the gun brig the
captain of a fine-looking American brig, who did not entertain
that respect for John Bull which the representatives of that
dignitary were disposed to exact, hoisted his colors, as usual,
on the Sabbath.  He did not confine his display of bunting to the
ensign at the peak, a burgee studded with stars at the fore, and
a jack on the bowsprit, but ran up a pennant of most preposterous
length at the main, which proudly flaunted in the breeze, as if
bidding defiance to the Englishman.

The young naval commander foolishly allowed himself to be annoyed
by this proceeding on the part of the Yankee, and resolved to
administer an appropriate rebuke.  He sent an officer alongside
the American brig, who, in a peremptory tone, told the mate to
cause that Yankee pennant to be hauled down immediately.

The captain, hearing of the mandate, made his appearance on deck;
and on a repetition of the order from the officer, exhibited
unequivocal symptoms of a choleric temper.  After letting off a
little of his exuberant wrath, he declared with emphasis that he
had a RIGHT to wear a pennant, and WOULD wear it in spite of all
the officers in the British navy.

The midshipman, finding it of no avail to continue the parley,
told his cockswain to go aloft and "dowse the pennant and leave
it in the cross-trees."   This was done, regardless of the
protest of the captain, and his threats to lay the subject before
the government and make it a national matter.  The boat had
hardly reached the man-of-war, when the pennant was again flying
on board the American brig, and seemed to wave more proudly than
before.

The man-of-war's boat was sent back, and some sharp words were
exchanged between the British officer and the Yankee captain; but
the former, possessing superior physical force, was triumphant.
The pennant was again hauled down, but this time it was not left
in the cross-trees.  The cockswain took it with him and it was
carried on board the English brig, in spite of the denunciation
hurled against men-of-war's men, in which the epithets "thieves,"
"robbers," and "pirates," were distinctly heard.

A few nights after the above-mentioned occurrence we received an
unexpected addition to the number of our crew.  It was about an
hour after midnight, when the man who had the watch on deck was
comfortably seated on a coil of rope beneath the main deck
awning, and probably dozing, while sheltered from a heavy and
protracted shower of rain.  The night was dark and gloomy; the
ebb tide made a moaning, monotonous noise under the bows, and
rushed swiftly by the sides of the vessel, leaving a broad wake
astern.  The sailor was roused from his comfortable position by a
sound resembling the cry of a person in distress.  He started to
his feet, and stepped out from beneath the awning.  He listened,
and again distinctly heard the cry, which seemed to come from the
water under the bows.  Supposing it might proceed from some
person who had fallen overboard and wanted help, he went forward
to the knight-heads, and called out, "Who's there?"

A voice from below the bowsprit faintly replied, "Shipmate, for
God's sake bear a hand, and give me help.  I can hold on but a
few minutes longer."

He was now aware that a man, in an exhausted condition, was
clinging to the cable, and required immediate assistance.  He
called up his shipmates, and with little difficulty they
succeeded in hauling him safely on board.  He proved to be a
fine-looking English sailor; and as soon as he recovered strength
enough to converse, explained the cause of his perilous
situation.

He belonged to the brig-of-war, which was lying at anchor about
half a mile above.  He had been impressed two years before; and
being treated with cruelty and harshness, had been eagerly
watching an opportunity to escape from his inhuman bondage.  At
length he formed a plan with one of his messmates, to slip
overboard quietly the first dark night, and relying on skill in
swimming, attempt to reach some vessel at anchor in the harbor.

The plan was carried into effect.  They succeeded in eluding the
vigilance of the sentries, dropped gently into the water, and
were soon floating astern.  But their situation was one of
extreme peril.  The current was stronger than they anticipated,
and the darkness of the night prevented them from distinguishing
any vessel in time to get on board.  As soon as they were swept
out of hearing of the man-of-war, they shouted loudly for help;
but the murmuring of the tide, the pattering of the rain, and the
howling of the wind prevented their voices from being heard, as,
notwithstanding their exertions to stem the tide, they floated
rapidly down the river towards the bar.

What risks will a man encounter to secure his liberty!  It was
not long before these friends separated, never to meet again.
One of them sank beneath the waters.  The other had given up all
expectation of being rescued, when he beheld an object, darker
than the murky atmosphere by which it was surrounded, rising, as
it appeared to him, out of the water.  His heart beat quicker
within his bosom.  In a moment more he had seized the cable of
the Dolphin, and shouted for help. This man was grateful for the
succor he had received, and expressed a wish to work his passage
to the United States.  To this suggestion Captain Tilton offered
no objection, and he subsequently proved to be one of the best
men on board.

That very morning the black pilot made his appearance, grinning
as he thrust his dark muzzle over the gunwale.  He was greeted
with answering smiles, for we were "homeward bound," and all
hands cheerfully commenced heaving up the anchor and making sail.
With a favorable breeze and an ebb tide we soon passed the bar,
and entered upon the broad ocean.  The fresh trade wind was
welcome after sweltering for weeks in the sultry and unwholesome
atmosphere of Demarara; and the clear and pellucid waters of the
ocean bore a cheerful aspect, contrasted with the thick and
opaque waters of the river in which we had remained several weeks
at anchor.

Nothing remarkable occurred during the homeward passage, until we
reached the Gulf Stream,   that extraordinary current, sixty or
seventy miles in width, and many degrees warmer than the ocean
water on either side, and which reaches from the Gulf of Florida
to the Shoals of Nantucket.  There can be no doubt that this
current of the Gulf Stream is owing to the trade winds in the
tropical seas, which, blowing at all times from the eastward,
drive a large body of water towards the American continent.
Vessels bound to India invariably meet with a strong westerly
current within the tropics, and particularly in the vicinity of
the equator.  This volume of water is thus forced along the
shores of Brazil and Guiana, until it enters the Caribbean Sea,
from which it has no outlet excepting through the strait bounded
by Cape Catouche in Yucatan, on one side, and Cape St. Antonio,
in Cuba, on the other.

Through this strait, after a strong trade wind has been blowing
for a time, the current sets into the Gulf of Mexico at the rate
of two or three knots an hour.  Here the waters of the tropical
seas are mingled with the waters of the Mississippi, the Balize,
the Rio Grande, the Colorado, the Alabama, and other large
streams which empty into the Gulf of Mexico; and turning off to
the eastward, this body of water is driven along between the
coasts of Cuba and Florida until it strikes the Salt Key Bank and
the Bahamas, when it receives another considerable addition from
the currents, which, from the same causes, are continually
setting west through the Old Bahama and New Providence Channels.
It is then forced northward along the coast of Florida and the
Middle States.  The stream becomes wider as it extends north,
diminishes its velocity, and gradually changes its temperature,
until it strikes the shoals south of Nantucket and the Bank of
St. George, when it branches off to the eastward, washes the
southern edge of the Bank of Newfoundland, and a portion of it is
lost in the ocean between the Western and Canary Islands; and
another portion, sweeping to the southward past the Cape de
Verdes, is again impelled to the westward across the Atlantic,
and performs its regular round.

The current always moving in the same circuitous track, forms,
according to Mr. Maury, to whose scientific labors the commercial
world is deeply indebted, an IMMENSE WHIRLPOOL, whose circuit
embraces the whole North Atlantic Ocean.  In the centre of the
whirl is a quiet spot, equal in extent of area to the whole
Mississippi valley, unaffected by currents of any kind.  And
here, as a matter of course, the greater part of the gulf-weed
and other floating materials, which are carried round by the
current, is eventually deposited.  This is the "Sargasso Sea" of
the ancients.  Columbus crossed this "weedy sea" on his quest
after a western passage to India.  And the singular appearance of
the ocean, thickly matted over with gulf-weed, caused great alarm
among his companions, who thought they had reached the limits of
navigation.

A current of a character similar to the Gulf Stream   only not so
strong   is experienced along the east coast of Africa, from
Mozambique to the Lagullas Bank, off the Cape of Good Hope.  This
current is undoubtedly caused by the trade wind forcing the water
towards the coast of Africa.  But in this case it is not driven
into a narrow passage, like the Gulf of Florida, which would
greatly increase its velocity.  The temperature of the water in
the current off the Cape of Good Hope is also several degrees
higher than the ocean waters in the neighborhood of the current.

On the afternoon on which we entered the Gulf Stream the wind
hauled suddenly to the eastward, and the heavens were obscured by
clouds.  The breeze also increased, and the sea became rough,
causing the brig to assume various unseemly attitudes, and
perform gymnastic exercises wonderful to behold.  As the wind
increased and the sea became more turbulent, the Dolphin tumbled
about like an elephant dancing a hornpipe, insomuch that it was
difficult for a person to keep his perpendicular.  Indeed, as I
was passing along from the camboose to the cabin, with a plate of
toast in one hand and a teapot in the other, the brig took a lee
lurch without giving notice of her intention, and sent me with
tremendous force across the deck, to leeward, where I brought up
against the sail.  But the tea and toast were ejected from my
hands into the sea, and I never saw them more.

At twilight, Captain Tilton came on deck, and looking around the
horizon, said, addressing the mate, "Mr. Thompson, the weather
looks GREASY to windward; I fear a gale is brewing.  You may find
the top-gallant sail and jib, and take a reef in the mainsail."

This work was soon accomplished.  The captain's prediction was
verified; for the wind continued to increase, accompanied with
fine drizzling rain, until about nine o'clock, when orders were
given to take another reef in the mainsail, and double reef the
fore-topsail.  It was not long before the wind swept across the
waves with almost resistless force, when it was found necessary
to strip the brig of all canvas, excepting a storm main-staysail
and close-reefed fore-topsail; the yards were braced up, the helm
lashed a-lee, and the brig was laid to.

The gale continued unabated all night.  Our vessel rolled heavily
to leeward, and strained considerably, her bulkheads groaning and
her seams opening, making it necessary to keep one of the pumps
in constant operation.  As soon as it was daylight I went on
deck, anxious to witness a spectacle I had often heard described
  A GALE OF WIND AT SEA   and it was a sight to call forth my
wonder and admiration.  The wind, blowing furiously, whistled
wildly among the rigging; the waves of alarming size and
threatening appearance, came rushing in swift succession towards
us, as if eager to overwhelm our puny bark, which nevertheless
floated unharmed, now riding on the crest of a wave, and anon
plunging into a deep and angry-looking gulf, taking no water on
deck, excepting from an occasional spray.

I asked one of the sailors who had just taken a spell at the
pump, if this were not a hurricane.

"Hurricane!" said he, with a good-natured grin.  "Nonsense!  This
is only a stiff breeze.  'Tis as different from a hurricane as a
heaver is from a handspike.  When you see a hurricane, my lad,
you will know it, even if the name is not lettered on the starn."

"Then I suppose there is no actual danger in a gale like this,
although it does not look very inviting."

"Danger!   I don't know about that.  In a good seaworthy vessel a
man is as SAFE in a gale of wind as if he was cooped up in a
grog-selling boarding house on shore; and a thousand times better
off in other respects.  But this miserable old craft is strained
in every timber, and takes in more water through the seams in her
bottom than 'the combers' toss on her decks.  If her bottom does
not drop out some of these odd times, and leave us in the lurch,
we may think ourselves lucky."

After uttering these consolatory remarks, accompanied with a
significant shrug, he resumed his labors at the pump.

The wind blew with violence through the day, and the leak kept
increasing.  There is probably no exercise more fatiguing than
"pumping ship," as practised with the clumsy, awkward
contrivances called PUMPS, which were generally in use among the
merchant vessels of those days.  It being necessary to keep the
pumps in constant operation, or in nautical parlance, "pump or
sink," the crew, although a hardy, vigorous set of men, became
exhausted and disheartened, and, to my astonishment and disgust,
instead of manifesting by their solemn looks and devout demeanor
a sense of the danger with which they were threatened,
alternately pumped, grumbled, and swore, and swore, grumbled, and
pumped.

Change is incident to every thing; and even a gale of wind cannot
last forever.  Before night the tempest was hushed, the waves
diminished, and in a few hours the brig was under full sail,
jogging along to the westward at the rate of six or seven knots.
The next day we got soundings on the coast of Carolina, and, with
a fair wind, rapidly approached the land.

Off the mouth of the bay which forms the harbor of Charleston
extends a long line of shoals, on which the breakers are
continually dashing.  These shoals are intersected by narrow
channels, through which vessels of moderate draught may pass at
high water with a smooth sea.  The principal channel, or main
passage, for ships over the bar is narrow, and never attempted
without a pilot.  About three miles from the bar is the
lighthouse, which stands on a low, sandy shore.  Indeed, the
whole coast is low and sandy, abounding in mosquitoes, sandflies,
and oysters.  Inside the bar there is good anchorage, but the
tide at certain periods ebbs and flows with great velocity.

We crossed the bar, and, without anchoring, proceeded to the
city.  We passed Sullivan's Island on the right   a long, low,
sandy island, which is the summer residence of many of the
inhabitants of Charleston.  On this island Fort Moultrie is
situated, which commands the passage to the city, about four
miles distant.  This fort proved an awkward obstacle to the
capture of Charleston, when that feat was rashly attempted by Sir
Peter Parker, during the revolutionary war.

On all the surrounding objects I gazed with a deep and intense
interest, which was not relaxed until the Dolphin dropped anchor
off the wharves of this celebrated city.


Chapter VI
SCENES IN CHARLESTON

Soon after the Dolphin arrived in Charleston the crew were
discharged, with the exception of one of the seamen and myself.
We retained our quarters in the brig.  Mr. Thompson, the mate,
took passage in a vessel for Boston, and not long afterwards
sailed from Portsmouth in command of a ship.  Captain Tilton took
up his residence at a fashionable boarding house, and I seldom
had any communication with him.  I supposed, as a matter of
course, that he would soon enter on another voyage, and I should
go with him.  In the meantime, having provided me with a
temporary home, he left me to associate with whom I pleased, and
struggle single-handed against the many temptations to which a
young sailor in a strange maritime city is always exposed.

About a week after our arrival in Charleston, as I was passing
through one of the principal streets, clad in strict sailor
costume, I met a good-looking gentleman, who, to my surprise,
accosted me with great politeness, his pleasant features lighted
up with a benevolent smile, and inquired if I had not recently
returned from a voyage to sea.  Upon being assured that such was
the case, he remarked that he liked my appearance, and doubted
not I was a smart, capable lad, who would be a valuable
acquisition to the crew of a good ship.  I was flattered and
pleased with the conduct of this genteel looking stranger,
convinced that he was a person of good judgment and nice
discrimination.  He further informed me, with a patronizing air,
that he was the captain of a fine fast-sailing vessel, bound on a
pleasant voyage, and should be delighted to number among his crew
some active and intelligent young men, like myself.  He even went
so far as to say he was so well satisfied with my appearance,
that if I would accompany him to a counting-room on an adjoining
wharf, he would ship me without asking further questions, and
advance a month's wages on the spot.  But the amount he offered
as monthly wages was so much greater than I, being but little
better than a very green hand, had a right to expect, that a
person acquainted with human nature would have suspected this
pleasant-spoken gentleman to have some other reason for his
conduct than admiration of my appearance and interest in my
welfare.  I was eager to place myself at once under the
protection of my new friend; yet I could not forget that I was
still under the care of my kinsman, Captain Tilton, and that it
would be neither decorous nor proper to make this new engagement
without consulting him.  But I did not for a moment doubt he
would give his consent to the proposed arrangement, and be
rejoiced to get me fairly off his hands.

I communicated my objections to the stranger, but assured him
that I would meet him in the afternoon at the place he
designated, and in all probability sign "the articles."  He
seemed, nevertheless, disappointed at the result of the
interview, and bidding me not fail to come, turned away, and
walked slowly towards the wharf.

As I left this kind-hearted stranger, brim full of newborn
confidence and hope, and exulting in the fact that I had fallen
in with a man of influence and position, who could appreciate my
merit, I met a couple of sailors of my acquaintance, who had been
standing at a corner of the street witnessing our interview, with
which they seemed greatly amused.  One of the sailors, with a
deficiency of respect for my would-be patron which I could not
approve, said, "Hawser, what were you talking with that fellow
about?"

I explained, with great glee and at full length, the nature of
our conversation to which they greedily listened, winking
mysteriously at each other.  When I had concluded, they indulged
in a hearty laugh.

It was some time before they could sufficiently restrain their
merriment to enlighten me on the cause of their mirth.  I was
then told, to my mortification, that my kind friend, the
GENTLEMAN on whose benevolence and protection I had already built
hopes of success in life, was neither more nor less than the
captain of an armed clipper brig,   a SLAVER,   anchored in the
outer roads, which had been for a fortnight ready for sea, but
was detained in consequence of the desertion of three several
crews, who had been induced by false representations to ship, and
had deserted EN MASSE as soon as they learned the true character
of the vessel and the voyage.  He was now using all possible
means to entrap a crew of men or boys for this abominable
traffic, and was by no means particular in his choice.

This was a severe blow to my vanity.  I felt not a little
indignant at being so easily cajoled, played upon, and almost
kidnapped by this unprincipled scoundrel.  It was a valuable
lesson, however; for experience is a good, although expensive
teacher.

A few days passed away, when, one morning about three o'clock, as
some members of the city patrol were passing through Church
Street, they discovered a man, apparently n a dying state, lying
in the street.  He was conveyed to the guard house, or patrol
station, where he died in the course of half an hour, without
being able to articulate a syllable.  Several wounds in different
parts of his body, made by a small penknife, which was
subsequently found, were undoubtedly the cause of his death.  The
unfortunate man thus murdered was the captain of the slaver, who
had sought to entrap me by his honeyed words.  A pool of blood
was on the spot on which he was first discovered, and his steps
could be traced by the blood on the pavements for several rods.
The marks of blood were found only in the middle of the street;
and none of the persons residing in that part of the city heard
any disturbance, brawl, or cries for assistance in the course of
the night.

The mysterious tragedy caused a great excitement.  The police
were unceasing in their efforts to discover the circumstances
connected with this assassination, but in vain.  The veil which
concealed it was not lifted, and no clew was ever given by which
even conjecture could develop the mystery.

It was supposed by some that the unfortunate man fell a victim to
the rage of a jealous husband whose honor he had outraged, or of
a lover whose affections he had supplanted.  Others thought the
fatal injuries he received were the result of a drunken quarrel,
commenced in a gaming house; while many believed that private
revenge inflicted the stabs, which, from their number and
direction, appeared to have been given under the influence of
ungovernable fury.  Some thought the wounds were inflicted by a
vigorous man, others, that a woman had imbrued her hands in his
blood.

The first, and perhaps most natural supposition, was that some
negro, knowing the character of the voyage which the murdered man
had contemplated, had taken this desperate mode of arresting his
proceedings.  This theory, however, was soon generally abandoned
for another.  It was suggested that one of the sailors who had
shipped in the slaver and subsequently deserted, knowing the
captain was seeking them in every direction, had met him in the
street, and fearful of being arrested, or seeking to revenge a
personal wrong, had committed the terrible crime.  This
hypothesis was, doubtless, as false as either of the others, and
more absurd.  It was, nevertheless, adopted by the city
authorities, and promptly acted upon, with a disregard to the
rights of individuals which seems strangely at variance with
republican institutions.  The police force was strengthened, and
on the evening succeeding the discovery of the murder received
orders to arrest and place in confinement every individual seen
in the streets wearing the garb of a sailor.  This arbitrary
edict was strictly enforced; and Jack, on leaving his home in the
forecastle or a boarding house to visit the haunts of
dissipation, or perhaps to attend to some pressing and important
duty, was pounced upon by the members of the city guard, and,
much to his astonishment and anger, and maugre his struggles,
expostulations, and threats, was carried off without any assigned
reason, and securely placed under lock and key.

     Some two or three hundred of these unoffending tars were
caught, captured, cribbed, and confined.  No respect was paid to
age, color or nation.  They were huddled together in rooms of
very moderate dimensions, which precluded, for one night at
least, any idea of rest or comfort; and such a confusion of
tongues, such anathemas against the city officials, such threats
of vengeance, such rare specimens of swearing, singing, and
shouting, varied occasionally by rough greetings and jeers
whenever a new squad of blue jackets was thrust in among them,
would have commanded the admiration of the evil dwellers in
Milton's Pandemonium.

This arbitrary measure failed of success.  The kidnapped sailors,
on the following day, were separately examined in the presence of
the mate of the brig, but no reasons were found for detaining a
single individual.

A few days after this occurrence, Captain Tilton told me he had
sold the brig Dolphin to a Captain Turner, of New York, a worthy
man and his particular friend; that Captain Turner intended
proceeding immediately to some neutral port in the West Indies.
The non-intercourse act, at that time, prohibited all trade to
places belonging to either of the great belligerent powers.  He
also said he had made no arrangements in regard to himself; that
he was undecided what course to pursue, and might remain on shore
for months.  Anxious, however, to promote my interest by
procuring me active employment, he had stipulated with Captain
Turner that I should have "a chance" in the Dolphin, on her next
voyage, before the mast.  I had not a word to say against this
arrangement, but gave my cheerful consent, especially as it was
represented that Captain Turner would "treat me with kindness,
and help me along in the world."

I was thus unceremoniously dismissed by Captain Tilton from his
charge.  Under the plea of promoting my interest, he had procured
me a situation before the mast in an old, leaky vessel, which he
had got rid of because she was not seaworthy, and commanded by a
man of whose character he was entirely ignorant.  I expressed
gratitude to my kinsman for his goodness, notwithstanding I had
secret misgivings in regard to his disinterestedness, and signed
with alacrity "the articles" with Captain Turner.  A new and
interesting scene in the drama of life was about to open, and I
looked forward with impatience to the rising of the curtain.

The brig was laden with a cargo of lumber, rice, and provisions,
and her destination was Cayenne, on the coast of Guiana.  In
January, 1810, we left the wharf in Charleston, and proceeded
down the harbor.  The wind was light, but the tide ebbed with
unusual velocity, sweeping us rapidly on our way.  We had nearly
reached the bar when it suddenly became calm.  The brig lost
steerage way, and the current was setting towards the shoals.
The pilot, aware of the danger, called out, "Let go the anchor!"

The order was promptly obeyed, and the small bower anchor was let
go.  The tide was so strong that when a sufficient quantity of
cable was run out, the attempt to "check her," and to "bring up,"
resulted in capsizing the windlass, and causing, for a few
minutes, a sense of indescribable confusion.  The windlass, by
its violent and spasmodic motion, knocked over two of the sailors
who foolishly endeavored to regain control of its actions, and
the cable, having commenced running out of the hawse-hold, would
not be "snubbed," but obstinately persisted in continuing its
course in spite of the desperate exertions of the captain, mate,
pilot, and a portion of the crew, who clung to it as if it was
their last hope.  But their efforts were vain.  Its impetuosity
could not in this way be checked; and as the end of the cable by
some strange neglect, had not been clinched around the mast, the
last coil followed the example of "its illustrious predecessors,"
and disappeared through the hawse-hole, after having, by an
unexpected whisk, upset the mate, and given the captain a rap
across the shins, which lamed him for a week.

The "best bower" anchor was now let go, and the end hastily
secured around the foremast, which fortunately "brought up" the
brig "all standing," within half a cable's length of the shoal.
No buoy having been attached to the small bower anchor, the
anchor and cable were lost forever.

This accident, of course, prevented us from proceeding
immediately to sea; and the wind having changed, the anchor was
weighed at the flood tide, and the brig removed to a safer
anchorage.   Night came on, and as the brig was riding in a
roadstead, at single anchor, in a tempestuous season, it was
necessary to set an anchor watch.  It fell to my lot to have the
first watch; that is, to keep a look out after the wind, weather,
and condition of the vessel, and report any occurrence of
importance between the hours of eight and ten in the evening.
The crew, fatigued with the labors of the day, took possession of
their berths at an early hour, the mate and the captain also
disappeared from the deck, after having instructed me in my
duties, and cautioned me against falling asleep in my watch.

I was thus intrusted with a responsible charge, and realized the
importance of the trust.  I walked fore-and-aft the deck, with a
step and a swagger that would have become a Port Admiral in the
British navy.  I felt that I had gained one important step; and,
bound on a pleasant voyage, with kind and indulgent officers, had
every thing pleasant to expect in the future.  As Captain Turner
would undoubtedly treat me with indulgence and overlook any
shortcomings on my part, for the sake of his intimate friend,
Captain Tilton, I determined, by my attention to duty, and my
general conduct, to deserve the favors which I was sure I should
receive.

Communing thus with myself, and lost in the rosy vagaries of a
vivid imagination, I unhappily for the moment forgot the objects
for which I was stationed on deck.  I seated myself involuntarily
on a spar, which was lashed alongside the long boat, and in a few
minutes, without any intention or expectation of being otherwise
than vigilant in the extreme, WAS TRANSPORTED TO THE LAND OF
DREAMS!

A check was suddenly put to my vagabond thoughts and flowery
visions, and I was violently dragged back to the realities of
life by a strong hand, which, seizing me roughly by the collar,
jerked me to my feet!  At the same time, the voice of my kind
friend and benefactor, Captain Turner, rung in my ears like a
trumpet, as he exclaimed in a paroxysm of passion, "You little
good-for-nothing rascal!  This is the way you keep watch!  Hey?
Wake up, you lazy ragamuffin!  Rouse yourself!  And, suiting the
action to the word, he gave me two or three severe shakes.  "Let
me catch you sleeping in your watch again, and I'll send you to
the cross-trees for four hours on a stretch.  I knew I had got a
hard bargain when your uncle shoved you upon me, you sneaking,
sanctimonious-looking imp of Satan!  But mind how you carry your
helm, or you will have cause to curse the day when you shipped on
board the Dolphin!"

This was a damper, with a vengeance, to my aspirations and hopes.
The ladder on which I was about to ascend to fame and fortune was
unfeelingly knocked away, and I was laid prostrate   flat on my
back   almost before I began to mount!  I was deceived in Captain
Turner; and what was of greater consequence to me, my self-
confidence was terribly shaken   I was deceived in myself.  My
shipmates, nevertheless, sympathized with me in my abasement;
gave me words of encouragement; bade me be of good cheer; keep a
stiff upper lip; look out sharper for squalls in the future, and
I should yet "weather the cape."

An awkward accident happened to me the following day, which
tended still further to diminish the self-confidence I had so
recently cherished.  The small boat had returned about sunset
from a mission to the city, and as I formed one of the boat's
crew, the mate ordered me to drop the boat astern, and hook on
the tackles that it might be hoisted to the davits.  But the tide
running furiously, the boat when under the quarter took a sudden
sheer.  I lost my hold on the brig, and found myself adrift.

I shouted lustily for help, but no help could be afforded; the
long-boat being snugly stowed amidships, and the tide sweeping me
towards the bar at the rate of several knots an hour.  Sculling
was a manoeuvre of which I had heard, and seen practised, but had
never practised myself.  I therefore took one of the oars and
made a desperate attempt to PADDLE towards the brig.  The attempt
was unsuccessful; the distance between the brig and the boat was
rapidly increasing, darkness was coming on, a strong breeze was
springing up, and I was in a fair way to be drifted among the
breakers, or swept out to sea over the bar!

It happened, fortunately, for me, that a large brig was riding at
anchor within a short distance of the Dolphin.  This was the very
slaver whose captain was so mysteriously assassinated.  The mate
of the brig was looking around the harbor at the time; he espied
my misfortune, and forthwith despatched a boat, pulled by four
men, to my assistance.  They took me in tow, and, after an hour
of hard work, succeeded in towing the boat and myself safely
alongside the brig.

I was soundly rated by the mate for my carelessness in allowing
the boat to get adrift, and my shipmates were unsparing in their
reproaches for my ignorance of the important art of sculling.  I
was completely crest-fallen; but during the few remaining days we
remained in port I applied myself with zeal to gain a practical
knowledge of the art, and could soon propel a boat through the
water with a single oar over the stern, with as much dexterity as
the most accomplished sailor.

A new cable an anchor were brought on board, the wind became
favorable, and the rig Dolphin proceeded to sea, bound NOMINALLY
for Cayenne.  I carried with me, engraven on my memory in
characters which have never been effaced, THE ART OR SCULLING A
BOAT, and the ad