Part 19 (1/2)

By breakfast-time we were making so much better weather of it that we were able to open the hatches, and the windsails were rigged up to let down some fresh air below, which enabled us to have a better meal than we expected; so our hot cocoa and bread possessed an additional relish, not only from this circ.u.mstance, but also from the fact of our not having enjoyed anything hot since the previous day at dinner, the galley fires having been swamped out just before tea-time, thus forcing us to turn in supperless.

Later on, as the gale slackened, we set our topsails close-reefed, and more 'fore-and-aft' sail; and, when the sun had got above our foreyard, the commodore ordered the topgallant-masts to be sent up, these having been housed when it came on to blow heavily. Our topgallants were consequently set above our close-reefed topsails, which some of the young seamen on board appeared to think a most extraordinary proceeding; but one of the quarter-masters, who was an old hand, said he had often seen it done when sailing ”under old Fitzroy on the Pacific station,”

when their s.h.i.+p would be bowling along under this sail before a stiff nor'-easter, in the run down from Vancouver to Callao, past the inhospitable Californian coast.

At noon that day, the navigating officer, who took the sun on the p.o.o.p, surrounded by a lot of the young mids.h.i.+pmen we had on board for instruction during the training cruise, like us boys on the lower deck each in our respective billet, gave out that we were in lat.i.tude 44 degrees 10 minutes north, and longitude 10 degrees 15 minutes west, thus showing that we were well to the westward of the ill-omened Cape Finisterre and now safely out of the Bay of Biscay!

The navigator also told our commanding officer, in the usual stereotyped nautical formula, that it was twelve o'clock.

”All right,” replied the commodore. ”Make it so!”

Accordingly, the sentry on the forecastle struck Eight Bells, and the men were piped down to dinner; the boatswain's mates sounding their shrill calls through the s.h.i.+p as the echo of the last stroke of the clapper on the side of the s.h.i.+p's bell ceased to reverberate in the noisy air, which was filled with the creaking of the blocks aloft and the hum of the wind, the sea breaking against our counter alongside in a sullen fas.h.i.+on as if old Neptune were disappointed at letting us slip out of his clutches!

At One Bell, half-an-hour later, when the grog was served out to the men--we boys, of course, having none of this, nor wanting it either--a rather amusing incident occurred.

Some of the chaps on board, though pa.s.sed for ordinary seamen, were 'green hands'; and the older sailors that leavened the company, used to crack jokes on these and 'pull their legs' pretty considerably, until the green ones got too knowing to be taken in.

One fellow we had with us in the starboard watch, however, seemed to be so naturally 'raw' that nothing served to 'salt' him; and he was the b.u.t.t not only of his own mess, but of the whole s.h.i.+p's company.

On this occasion Harris, a leading seaman, took a fine rise out of him.

”Say, Joblins,” he called out, as he was going to light his pipe to have a smoke forwards, we boys having set out the spittoons for the men along the ''tween decks,' ”got your grog all right, old s.h.i.+p?”

”Oh ay,” answered the other. ”I'se droonk un.”

”But I means yer second 'lowance.”

”Hay?” said Mr Johnny Raw, his eyes beginning to visibly brighten.

”What fur be that?”

”Yer second 'lowance,” repeated the joker Harris. ”All the noo hands can git it if they axes fur it.”

”Now, yer bean't a-joking?”

”No,” declared Harris unblus.h.i.+ngly, winking to the others around.

”Joking--why should I, man?”

The greenhorn grew quite excited at the prospect of another tot of grog after his pipe.

”Say, s.h.i.+pmate,” said he, rising from the bench at the mess-table where he had been sitting having a whiff, ”tell us wot I shall do fur to get un?”

”Take hold on that 'spud-net' there,” said Harris, pointing to the net in which the potatoes had been boiled for the mess, the other fellows near turning their backs so that Joblins couldn't see them laugh as he proceeded to carry out the joker's suggestion. ”Ah, ye've got it all right, then? Now, Joblins, ye can take that to the upper deck, where they're now sarvin' out the grog for the port watch, and tell the 'Jaunty' that yer come fur yer second 'lowance.”

Would you believe it?

Well, whether you do so or not, all I have to say is that the innocent yokel actually went up on deck with the potato-net in his hand, holding it out in front of him as he took his station beside those standing round the grog-tub.

”Hullo!” exclaimed the s.h.i.+p's steward, who acts as master of the ceremonies in this daily allowance of drink to the s.h.i.+p's company, a.s.sisted by one of the corporals, and sometimes even by the master-at- arms himself, the purveyor of the grog recognising him as having previously received his quota. ”What do you want here? You've had your 'lowance already!”

Joblins, however, was reluctant to give up the chance of getting an additional supply without a struggle for it, so, he would not accept this rebuff.