Donald looked at the diagrams—as he termed the pictures—asked the man of science any amount of questions, and then coolly remarked,
"Hech, mon docter! it's ay verra weel for ye to tell me aboot yon, bit as I've eaten an unca guid pund or twa o' the puir beastie, I think I'll gist fa' tult agin, and risk the rest at supper."
Upon hearing this the surgeon gave up further argument, and put away his pictures.
The well-kicked steward, who catered for the midshipmen, was sent on shore early in the morning to "secure the best the market afforded."
Much to the annoyance of the young gentlemen, he did not return until late in the evening, when, staggering into the mess-berth, and throwing a dead turkey-buzzard upon the table, he looked solemnly at the senior midshipman, and said, "Th-there's all the (hic) game I could come a (hic) cross," then wept bitterly, and requested one of the young gemmen 'ud knock his head off, as he was tired of life. Unluckily for the fellow, his only friends in the mess were absent on duty.
The indignant middies held council, and found it imperative on their part to make an example of the fellow, who, after stealing their two hundred dollars, had insulted them by bringing off a stinking turkey-buzzard, instead of a boat load of sea stock; nothing short of a cobbing would meet the requirements of the case. It never, for a moment, occurred to them that had they treated the steward better, he would not have so misbehaved himself.
No doubt the man was not sufficiently appreciative of all their favours, and the many kindnesses they imagined he received at their hands. It was also very wrong indeed for him to lose the money and get intoxicated; but he was a poor weak-minded fellow, and human, although some of the young gentlemen—his masters—often tried to persuade themselves to the contrary.
Torture being rather the popular amusement on board the Stinger, not one of those present imagined the order "to give the Yahoo fits" was a cruel one; and when the senior midshipman, who gave it, proceeded to gag the steward with a towel, willing hands were put forth to hold "the brute." After binding the bewildered victim to the mess table, the young gentlemen worked away at him, until they got tired of the amusement, and then kicked him adrift with instructions "to fetch aft some grog water," upon which he replied, "he would see them blessed if he did."
Finding the man determined to resist lawful authority, they reported him to Crushe, who directed him to be lashed up in the fore-rigging. Strange to say, after he had been suspended by the wrists for an hour he fainted, so he was cast adrift, and told "he might turn in." He never turned out again, being found dead in his hammock when the young gentlemen wanted their coffee the next morning. The doctor was sent for, and he declared the man had died in a fit some hours before; so they entered it in the ship's log as "a death caused by intoxication and over exertion." No one ever made inquiry about the parish apprentice, and the matter was soon a thing of the past.
Captain Puffeigh declined to receive visitors, and Crushe was obliged to do the honours of the ship. During the morning one of the principal magistrates called to pay his respects to the commander, and was entertained by the first lieutenant. It was quite amusing to hear Crushe speak of the crew, and the old Anglo-Indian thought he had never met a more humane, kind-hearted officer.