As I have said, no man occupied his hammock that night, and those who had not remained on deck during the entire time of darkness sought the open air with the first dawning of day.
As may be expected, Simon and I followed them, for we were not minded to remain alone on the gun-deck, where it was yet dark, and I looked forward with dread to the hour when we must go into the hold to carry the prisoners’ food.
Captain Ropes and his officers must have been well aware of the dangerous condition of mind into which the men were fallen, for no less than three paced the quarter-deck constantly, and when an order was given they took extra care that it should be obeyed promptly, as if fearing lest the first indication of such delay as might be counted for insubordination should prove to be the match that exploded a magazine of fear and passion.
I observed, too, that all the officers carried their side-arms as they would have done on the eve of an engagement, and they kept vigilant watch upon every one of us.
As a matter of course, it would have been impossible to prevent the men from talking among themselves; but I noticed that, when there was any disposition on the part of the crew to gather into little groups, some order was given which would necessitate their separation, and much useless work laid out as if for no other purpose than to keep our time fully occupied.
It was like unto standing upon the summit of a volcano which threatens to belch forth flame and death at any instant, and the minutes were to me as hours.
Then the word was passed from the cook-house that breakfast for the prisoners had been made ready, and Simon and I went very unwillingly to take charge of it.
It was evident that even we two lads would not be allowed to loiter in our work, for Mr. Fernald called sharply after us, as we were going slowly forward:
“Bear a hand there, lads! There is to be no sodgerin’ this mornin’!”