After we had finished eating this meal, which nothing but a healthy young appetite, strengthened by my morning’s unaccustomed work, could have rendered endurable, I was instructed by Jim that it was the duty of the new boy to carry up the pots and pans to the galley to be washed, and Chips told me to hurry up and bring him a light for the pipe he was then industriously filling for an after-dinner smoke.
I submitted to these orders with an ill grace; and when I had seated myself on the spare spars lashed by the side of the galley, with the cook, whom I instinctively felt was a friend, I put the case to him and asked his advice.
“Now, Bob,” said he, “I tole you I gwine to be yo’ friend, and I means what I said. I done tuck yo’ measure, my son, soon’s you come on board, and I know’d you’se a quality youngster immegitely. You’se different breed o’ dog fum dat low-down Jim, and dat’s why I tole you dat you wasn’t gwine to be pompered here, cos I wanted to prepare you fer what was comin’. Bob, you’se like a young bar; yo’ trouble’s all befo’ you. But you des keep a quiet tongue in yo’ head, and watch out wid yo’ eyes open, and learn all you can, and ’fore you know it you’ll be jest as good as any ob ’em!”
“Yes, cook, that’s all right, but I can’t let Jim impose on me, you know.”
The old darky grinned from ear to ear. “Dat’s so, honey! Blood will tell, sho’s you born, and you’se got some of what my ole marse used to call ‘diwine ’flatus’; wotever dat is, dat belongs to quality folks and always fotches ’em on top ob de heap. So if dat Jim runs you too hard, why I ’speck you’se duty bound to take yo’ own part. You know wot de good S’marikan said: ’Ef de Farisee hit you on one cheek, you hit him on de udder.’ Now Bob, here’s yo’ pudden’, and don’t let de mate see you eatin’ it on deck.”
The doctor, as the cook is always called on board ship, had been a plantation darkey, and possessed that keen insight peculiar to his race in certain matters. He recognized at once that I was of gentle birth, and attached himself to me from the first. He was my firm friend as long as we were shipmates together, and many a surreptitious pot of coffee in the morning watch and plate of “menavalins” from the cabin table I owed to his kind offices during the voyage.
For the remainder of the week I was kept busily engaged from early morning until dark, so that I was only too glad to crawl into my hammock soon after our simple evening meal each day, and I was not sorry when at last our hold was filled, our hatches calked down, and a gang of riggers bent our sails, and we were ready for sea. Then one afternoon our crew was brought down by a shipping-master, a tug came alongside, we cast off our fasts from the Navy Yard wharf, and steamed down the bay.
As all my good-bys had been made in Boston, I experienced no particular feelings of regret as we passed down the harbor and bay, and at last made sail, cast off the tug, dropped the pilot, and saw Sandy Hook light sink away below the horizon. I had indeed no time for much sentiment; for as the good ship began to rise and fall to the long ocean swell, increased by the strong breeze that was blowing from the southeast, I soon became oblivious to everything, for I was quickly in the agony of seasickness.
Meanwhile the wind was freshening, and, the top-gallant sails having been taken in, the ship was plunging into the head beat sea and creaking and groaning in what seemed to me a very ominous manner. I had already paid my devoirs to Neptune several times until I was fearfully weak; and the last time, as I came from the lee rail, I fell prone into a convenient tub that contained a large coil of rope—the main topsail halyards, as it proved, unfortunately.
Just then a stronger flaw of wind struck the ship, and the mate, coming into the waist, shouted out: “All hands stand by to reef topsails! Let go the topsail halyards! Clew down and haul out the reef-tackles! Be sharp, men! Be sharp!”