“Whew! That was hot work!” exclaimed Ned, wiping the perspiration from his face.
“I should say yes,” agreed his brother.
The storm had passed away, but as they were now in the tropics and would shortly cross the equator, the air was hot and moist. Orders had been given for a change of clothes, and the men and officers now wore as cool garments as possible, presenting a fine appearance in their white uniforms.
Down past Venezuela and the three Guianas steamed the mighty Georgetown. Then, a little later, the ship was off the mouth of the great Amazon, and the “line,” as the equator is called, was crossed.
Of course there was the usual horse-play and high jinks permitted by the officers. Neptune, in the person of one of the sailors, came aboard, with his trident, his crown and his wealth of hair, made from strands of oakum; and before Neptune and his court were brought those who had never yet crossed the equator. They were to be initiated.
Various feats were assigned to the luckless ones, not all of them mild, either. But everyone went through the fun with good spirits, though Hank Dell protested when he was told to thrust his head into a bucket of soapy water. He hesitated, but his mates forced him to take the ducking.
“Wough!” he spluttered, as his eyes and mouth were filled with the soapy mixture. Then he was doused with a pail of clean water, and his novitiate over.
Frank and Ned, with the others, had to submit to their share of the hazing, but finally it came to an end amid gales of laughter.
“Well, we won’t have to go through with that again,” Frank remarked to his brother when they were changing into clean and fresh garments.
“No, and I’m glad of it. There was a little too much rough stuff in it to suit me.”