In the meantime, Tom had gone below to execute the order Captain Rich had given him. He found pens and paper in the captain’s desk; and, after writing down the names of all the boys on board, he divided them into two watches, being careful to have in each watch an equal number of boys who had “been to sea.” His own name, with that of Johnny Harding, Tom put down with the port watch, and those of Rich and Miller with the starboard watch. Then, after showing the “watch bill” to the captain, who expressed himself satisfied with what had been done, he went on deck to read it to the crew. He lighted the lamp in the binnacle, and, calling the boys around him, read their names, after which he ordered the starboard watch to remain on deck, and the port to “go below and turn in until six o’clock in the morning.” Captain Rich came on deck a few moments afterward, a boy belonging to the starboard watch was sent to the wheel, and Tom and Johnny went below. They found the cabin crowded with boys in their watch. Every one of the bunks was filled with as many of the deserters as could get into it, and the others were stretched out on the floor of the cabin, with their uniform coats under their heads to serve as pillows. Tom was not very well pleased with this state of affairs, for he thought that, being the second in authority on board the vessel, he ought to be allowed a bunk to himself.
“O, now, see here, fellows,” whined the first mate, “where am I to sleep?”
“Look around and hunt up a place,” replied a voice from one of the bunks. “There’s plenty of room.”
“O, I can’t see any!” replied Tom. “I am the first mate of this vessel, and I want one of those bunks.”
“Rather a rough chance there, Newcombe,” said one of the boys on the floor.
Tom began to think so too. The discipline of the ship had not yet been established, and none of the crew seemed disposed to treat the first mate with the respect his high position demanded, for not one of them made him the offer of a bunk.
His only chance was to find a sleeping place on the floor, for he knew that an attempt, on his part, to compel any of the crew to give up one of the beds would be met with stubborn resistance. While Tom, after divesting himself of his coat, was trying to find a place to lie down, the third mate was causing a good deal of grumbling among the boys on the floor, by moving about and searching every nook and corner of the cabin. He was not satisfied with the course the captain had given out, and he wanted to find a chart of the coast. He knew that the island of Nantucket was “exactly south” of some parts of Massachusetts, but he did not believe that it lay in that direction from Buzzard’s Bay. He was as well posted in geography as any boy on board. He knew a great deal more about it than captain Rich, but he had never claimed to be a navigator. He was seaman enough to handle the sloop in all kinds of weather, but he could not take her where the crew might decide to go, and, more than that, he did not believe that the skipper was any better off in this respect than he was. By following the captain’s course, he believed that they would leave Nantucket away to the eastward, and it was to satisfy himself on this point that he wanted a chart. But, if there was one on board, he could not find it; and, finally becoming weary of the search, the third mate lay down among his companions, and slept as soundly as he would have done had he entertained no fears of the captain’s ability to take the sloop to her destination. The runaways all slept soundly until six o’clock, when they were aroused by the second mate. Some of them yielded prompt obedience to the call, while others refused to move until Miller descended the ladder and shook them roughly by the shoulder. Tom and Johnny were the first ones on deck. They found that the Swallow had left Newport far behind them, and was bounding along through Buzzard’s Bay before a fine breeze. The headlands at the entrance of the harbor were in plain view, and beyond them, was the ocean—its water flashing and sparkling in the sunlight like diamonds.
“What’s the course, captain?” asked Tom, who was now to take charge of the deck.
“I don’t know,” replied Rich. “I haven’t looked at the compass for two hours. I don’t need a course as long as the land is in sight. I know that we are in Buzzard’s Bay, and that if this breeze holds out, we will be in deep water in an hour. When you pass that cape,” he continued, pointing to the nearest headland, “hold her exactly south.”
“All the starboard watch below!” shouted Miller.