“I didn’t know that war could be civil. I thought it was pretty uncivil.”
“Don’t you know there’s war between the North and the South?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, the southern States have left the country—that is, they haven’t cleared out, but have left the government and set up one of their own. Each side has armies, and there’s fighting going on.”
“I declare,” said Captain Gamans. “This is the first time we’ve heard of it. We learned that a man named Lincoln was elected President, but the war’s a surprise.”
We were all excited, and as we pulled for our ship there was general regret that we knew so little of the great conflict, and that it would be many months before we should know more.
The vessels kept near each other that night—what night there was. At about six bells Captain Gates came aboard, and some of us were anticipating a nice gam with the men who brought him in the boat, when Lakeum came to me and said, “The captain wants you in the cabin.”
What did it mean? I had no right in that part of the ship unless summoned; and, indeed, I had not been in the cabin since the voyage began. Was I supposed to be guilty of some offense, and was I to appear before the captain as a criminal appears before a judge?
I entered with mingled fear and anticipation, and received from Captain Gamans the curt statement, “I sent for you because you’re a good penman, as I’ve seen from your handwriting in the logbook. And you’ve had a better education than most of us, even if you are a boy. We shall want you in a few minutes. Sit down there until we are ready, and keep quiet.”
I complied, but my heart was with the visitors on deck, and I listened listlessly to the rambling conversation of the captains. The only subject of any interest to me was the reference to their going in the boats, and this ended the colloquy.