There was a hiss of steam, a rattle of cogged wheels; and two hooks at the end of a chain swung down. "Out below!" went the cry above. Somebody below yelled up: "All right! I'll paste you later when I see you!"—"Get on with your work!" roared Rafferty. "I see you sitting there on them bales underneath. Roll them out." Up came the bales, and down anon swung the hooks; up again came the bales. Once the hooks slipped, the bales fell, one nearly on a man. At that Candlass disappeared from the main deck, reappeared presently on the lower deck, went over the hatch-side half-way down the ladder, and stood there looking at the gang below. Rafferty made no objection. "A dirty, drunken crowd," was all he volunteered. "It would sober some of them to have a bale on their head." Candlass climbed up again after exerting his influence by merely being there, and flicking his hands together as he came to the deck, remarked: "They'll all be sober before long, and no excuse." This saying was passed round from one to another. It suggested, as those who knew Candlass of yore agreed, that Candlass had his own point of view, and that only upon a man who had full use of his faculties would he be utterly severe in case of wrong-doing. Those whom he had "marked down" felt troubled in their hearts, as do discovered truants whose names have been handed in to the Head.
"Let me have an axe up," said Candlass presently, on the main deck again, looking down at Rafferty. Rafferty glared round for his axe, forgetting where he had put it, found it, and Candlass, turning to his men, gave a jerk of his head to one of the marked youths, and pointed down at the axe.
"Do you mean that I've got to go down for it?" asked the young man.
Candlass's lips tightened for all reply, and he seemed to read the man's eye. The man hastened away to the deck below, and when he returned with the axe Candlass looked at him again thoughtfully, then pointed to the bales strewn on the deck.
"Do you mean——" began the man, and his face was insolent.
Candlass pointed to the bales again, and the man walked over to them and began to smite upon the wires, which sprang apart.
"Here, the rest of you," said Candlass sharply, "just hustle that hay all along the alleyways."
"Is that enough hay on your deck, Candlass?" came Rafferty's voice.
"That will do," Candlass replied, and then quietly, at least comparatively speaking, and certainly expeditiously, to and fro on the main deck went Candlass's men, carrying the hay. They even began to be jolly at their work, throwing the fodder each to each, and the great horned beasts strained their necks and lowed, horns meeting horns across the alleyways. The men had to arm themselves with sticks to beat back the heads, for the armfuls that were carried to the extreme ends were sorely diminished by snatchings on the way. Candlass remained by the hatch, signing with a hand when to hoist, when to steady, when to let go, for the Man with the Hat worked on at the engine, bringing up bales to Rafferty's deck.
There was a sense of famine in the crew by the time all this work was done. The cattle were fed, but not they. The drink was out of them and there was no food in them, and they went aft to their safe of a cabin and picked, snarlingly, the men who were to go for meat and bread to the galley and the baker. They crowded, still snarling, round the tub containing the tin plates, forks and spoons, and when the food arrived they swooped round it, all talking and yelling. Mike's voice boomed high.