Chase up and lie out and take two reefs in one.
In a moment of time all this work must be done.
Man your headbraces, your halyards and all,
And hoist away topsails when it's 'let go and haul!'"
(Ditty sung in early days aboard Salem ships.)
One night in May, Murad sent word to me that we were to sail at four o'clock the next morning. I went to bed as usual, but before the hall clock struck three I was out of my window with my luggage and on my way to the ship. When I went aboard I found that all of the confusion of spare rigging, rope, sails, hawsers, oakum and merchandise that I had noted on the deck the day before, had been cleared away.
All of the crew were Baltimore men. Some of them were honest, goodhearted fellows. Others were ruffians. I recognized Steve Dunn and some of his gang among the crew. Baltimore had evidently become too hot to hold such rascals.
Samuel Childs, who had sailed under Commodore Barney, took me under his wing, although he swore that I should have been keelhauled for going to sea without asking the advice of the rector or the commodore.
"But," I protested, "they are both out of the city, and if they knew the reason I had for going, they would approve."
"I don't like to see the skipper taking such an interest in you," Samuel said with a shake of his head. "Mr. Bludsoe, the mate, is a fine man. You can trust him as you would a father. But these Orientals—I question their motives. True, Murad was a skipper in the Sultan's navy, but he's hiding something. He's more than a mere captain. We older men can take care of ourselves, but you've had no experience with men. You'd better stick close to me aboard ship, and closer still when we land!"