The wash deck tub was filled with salt water, a grating laid across, and Dunstable's hands made fast to it behind, so that he could not rise or struggle without injuring his wrists. The boatswain called for a bucket of coarse sand, took a piece of hard sailcloth, wetted it, dipped it in the sand, and himself commenced to inflict the scandalous torture known as "scrubbing with sand and canvas." His mates fell to with zeal, and these fiends in human shape rubbed and excoriated the person of the wretched Dunstable from head to foot. The sand was mixed with shells, which cut like knives, while the salt water pickled and stung until the victim almost fainted, upon which they cut his hands adrift and ducked him in the water.
The watch and idlers knocked off work "to see the sport," and encouraged by the countenance of Crushe and Cravan, shouted with delight whenever the idiot uttered a groan or writhed in agony. There had lately been a great deal of torture inflicted before their eyes, and they had become quite judges of its effects.
When Dunstable had for the tenth time been thrust to the bottom of the brimming wash deck tub, Shever called for a pair of scissors, and proceeded to hack off the hair from the poor victim's head. Many were the jokes indulged in by the gentle barber at the expense of the idiot, as some of the grinning wags around him asked for "locks of his hair to send to their grandmothers," and when the last clip was made they felt quite sorry there was no more left.
Bruised, demented, and bewildered was the shivering specimen of humanity when they removed the gag, and leading him to the fore-rigging told him "to run for his life three times over the mast head."
As he did not reply or offer to move, the boatswain gave him a kick, upon which he said, "Thank goodness for that!" This raised a laugh among the jolly tars who were standing around him, and one of them, emulating the warrant-officer's example, also dealt the fool a kick.
"I can't go up that ladder," he pleaded. "I'm not up to that move. Thank goodness for all things;" and added, in the slang of the beings who had reared him, "my nibs ain't vardi for that."
"Shever, muster the boys, give each a strip of raw hide, and let them flog this fellow aloft," said Crushe.
The active boatswain soon did as he was directed, and the boys were mustered and equipped in a very short space of time.
"Now, my lads, lay on to him as hard as you like," shouted the first lieutenant.