lace, and I obeyed with alacrity. As I reached the door,
his voice held me again for a moment.

"I guess you are a smart lad," says he. "I'll pick you for my watch,
if Fitz doesn't get ahead of me. Got your nerve--shipping in this
packet! If you know your work, and fly about it, you'll be all right.
Otherwise, God help you!"

CHAPTER VI

During my brief communion with Lynch in the foc'sle, I had, of course,
been conscious of ship work proceeding on deck. I had been deaf
otherwise, what with the mate's obscene, shrill voice ringing through
the ship, and the rattle of blocks, the cries of men, and the tramp of
their feet as they pulled together. Now, as I stepped from the foc'sle
into the bright daylight, I saw just what work was doing.

The vessel was aback on the main, her way lost for the moment. Abeam,
a tug was puffing away from us, carrying the port crew--who had lifted
anchor and taken the _Golden Bough_ to sea--back to San Francisco. And
we were fairly to sea; the rugged coast of Marin was miles astern, and
the Golden Gate was lost in a distant haze. The voyage was begun.

I saw this at a glance, out of the corners of my eyes, as I ran aft to
join the crowd. For I was minded to take the second mate's advice, and
fly about my work in the _Golden Bough_. To wait for an order, was, I
knew well enough, to wait for a blow. The crowd were already at the
lee braces, commencing to trim up the yards, and I tailed onto the line
and threw in my weight, thanking my lucky star that Mister Fitzgibbon
was too busied with the weather braces to accord my advent on deck any
other reception than a sizzling oath.

We got the ship under wary, and then jumped to other work. Mister
Lynch had flung several more sick, frightened wretches out of the
foc'sle, and now he joined with the mate in forcible encouragement of
our efforts. The port gang had hoisted the yards, and loosed the
sails, but the upper canvas was ill sheeted, and soon we were
pully-hauling for dear life.

The best of ships is a madhouse the first day at sea, but the _Golden
Bough_--God! she was madhouse and purgatory rolled into one! My own
agility and knowledge saved me from ill usage for the moment, since the
mates had plenty of ignorant, clumsy material to work upon. Such
material! I never before or after saw such a welter of human misery as
on that bright morning, such a crowd of sick, suffering, terrified men.
Most of them knew not one r