“They were somewhat shy at first, they preferred squatting at a distance, and contenting themselves with the delicious odour of the tit-bits placed temptingly on the hummock near, but as their numbers increased, so did their courage, and before very long we had the satisfaction of seeing them in twos and even threes, wrangling together over juicy joints. Then was our chance, and we did not hesitate to avail ourselves thereof. Hungry bears are by no means easily scared, and so our sport was good.
“There was no more laziness among our crew now, no more danger of our fellows falling into Rip Van Winkleism, for every day brought us sport and excitement and fun and adventure. We all began to sing again, and that is always a good sign on board a ship. There was singing fore and singing aft, and tales told in the saloon and yarns spun around the galley fire.
“The Hall of Delights by the sad sea wave proved a very great success indeed. Somehow or other we came to like it better than the ship itself, and although we always came home to sleep, it was often very late indeed before we scrambled on board our slippery-decked brig, and went below to the dingy darkness of state-room, hammock, or bunk.
“In this Hall of Delights we had music, for Peter Kelty played the violin, and Sandy Watson the clarionet; then there was big Magnus Rugg could put in a bass with his voice alone that you couldn’t have told from a violoncello. We had plenty of fire in the hall, but when the fiddles started of an evening, it wasn’t much heat we needed, for those—
“‘Hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,
Put life and mettle in our heels.’
“When tired of dancing, or rather, I should say, in the intervals between the dances, we had singing and recitations. The simplest of the simple both were, for in the latter I don’t think we ever got beyond ‘Douglas’s Tragedy’ or ‘Tam o’ Shanter,’ and in the former ‘Annie Laurie’ or ‘The Braes o’ Balquidder’ were far more appreciated than anything from the best of operas could have been.
“But the summus mons, in a musical way, was attained by our spectioneer, or third officer, for he not only sang most charmingly, but he accompanied himself on the zither.
“He was somewhat of a character, was this individual. He was far from old-looking in the face, but his hair and beard were like the very snow itself. He seldom even smiled, or if he did, it was a languid, sad kind of smile that kept well down about the lips, and never curved round the eyes or made them sparkle. He was tender and kind in heart, though, and a favourite with all hands.
“By-the-bye, his name was Summers, but he was always called Winter, and didn’t mind it a bit, he was so good-natured.
“We were all enjoying ourselves one evening in the Hall of Delights, we had danced till the fiddlers were tired, and everybody that could sing had sung, so there was a kind of lull—a momentary silence, in fact. Now, as it was nearly ten o’clock, if this silence had continued for even fifteen seconds, the captain would certainly have jumped up and said: