Mose struggled manfully to keep his balance, but it was of no use. He felt himself going, but it was impossible for him to catch hold of anything without dropping the dishes he was carrying. For a few seconds he gyrated wildly, while the boys held their breath. Then down he came flat on the deck, while the big dish of oatmeal went flying through the air and landed against the bulkhead with a crash.
Soft, clinging oatmeal seemed to fill the air for a few seconds, and everything in the cabin, including the boys, was liberally sprinkled. The pile of dishes smashed into a thousand fragments, and the havoc wrought was terrible to see.
At first the boys were afraid that the negro was seriously injured, but before they could get to him he was on his feet, looking very sheepish but apparently none the worse for the accident. When the boys saw that he was not hurt they broke into roars of laughter.
“Wow!” cried Billy, with tears running down his cheeks. “I thought you were so salty that nothing could ever knock you off your feet, Mose. Guess you’d better go easy with that stuff after this.”
“De ole boat sho’ slipped one ober on me dat time. But it cain’t nebber do it no mo,” declared Mose. “Hopes de captain doan come down befo’ Ah has a chance to clean up dis mess. If he ketches me, dis niggah’ll sho’ be out o’ luck.”
He set desperately to work, and in an incredibly short time had scraped the oatmeal off the floor and furniture and had the cabin tidied up. Then he went to get some more food, and this time met with better success.
Such incidents as this lightened the monotony of the voyage but still the days seemed very long to the boys, and more than once they longed for the time when they could get even with Hen Lemming for playing them such a sorry trick.
They often helped the sailors, but were not considered as regular hands. They had a long talk with Captain Garrish and promised to pay him well if he could only put them on some ship bound for home. But so far no such vessel had come their way.
“That captain’s a queer stick,” said Fred to Bobby, one morning. “And he’s got something on his mind, too.”
“Well, maybe we’ll find out what it is some day,” replied Bobby.