I daresay the skipper will do that, but as we're bound
for the coast of Chili from Hamburg, and ain't likely to be there for
about five months, you've got, as I said, a long voyage before you. If
the weather had been fine the skipper might have spoken some ship in the
Channel, and put you on board, but before the gale's blown out we shall
be hundreds of miles at sea. Even if it had been fine I don't suppose
the skipper would have parted with you, especially if you told him the
watch was asleep. He would not care next time he entered an English port
to have a claim fixed on his ship for the vally of the smack.'

"I saw what the sailor said was like enough, and blamed myself for
having let out about the watch. However, there was no help for it, and I
turned into an empty bunk and cried myself to sleep. What a voyage that
was, to be sure! The ship was a Yankee and so was the master and mates.
The crew were of all sorts, Dutch, and Swedes, and English, a Yank or
two, and a sprinklin' of niggers. It was one of those ships they call
a hell on earth, and cussing and kicking and driving went on all day. I
hadn't no regular place give me, but helped the black cook, and pulled
at ropes, and swabbed the decks, and got kicked and cuffed all round.
The skipper did not often speak to me, but when his eye lighted on me he
gave an ugly sort of look, as seemed to say, 'You'd better ha' gone down
with the others. You think you're going to report the loss of the smack,
and to get damages against the Potomac, do you? we shall see.' The
crew were a rough lot, but the spirit seemed taken out of 'em by the
treatment they met with. It was a word and a blow with the mates, and
they would think no more of catching up a handspike and stretching a man
senseless on the deck than I should of killing a fly. There was two or
three among 'em of a better sort than the others. The best of 'em was
the carpenter, an old Dutchman. 'Leetle boy,' he used to say to me,
'you keep yourself out of the sight of de skipper. Bad man dat. Me much
surprise if you get to de end of dis voyage all right. You best work
vera hard and give him no excuse to hit you. If he do, by gosh, he kill
you, and put down in de log, Boy killed by accident.'

"I felt that this was so myself, and I did my work as well as I could.
One day, however, when we were near the line I happened to upset a
bucket with some tar. The captain was standing close by.

"'You young dog,' he said, 'you've