It was some time before I had any conception of how things stood for’ard, with respect at least to the subject of this story.
I saw, of course, that the chief officer was a bully, and that he was heartily disliked by the men. But of Jack Ashby and his dream I knew nothing. Nor, until my attention was especially drawn to it, did I perceive that he was undergoing the hazing process.
As the only passenger, and one who had paid his footing liberally, I was often on the fo’k’stle and in other parts of the ship supposed to belong peculiarly to the men.
[288]
]Thus, one night, happening to be having a smoke on the top-gallant fo’k’stle, underneath which lay the quarters of the crew, I sat down on the anchor stock, and watched the cold-looking seas rolling up from the Antarctic Circle, and exchanging at intervals a word with the look-out man as he stumped across from rail to rail.
Close beside me was a small scuttle, with the sliding-lid of it pushed back.
I had scarcely lit my pipe when up through this, making me nearly drop it from my mouth, came a long, sharp scream as one in dire agony.
‘What’s the matter down there?’ shouted my companion, falling on his knees and craning his head over the coamings of the hatch.
Without waiting for an answer, we both bolted on to the main deck and into the fo’k’stle, where could be heard broken murmurs and growlings from the sleepy watch who filled the double tier of open bunks running with the sheer of the ship right into the eyes of her.
And on one of these, as I struck a match and lit the swinging slush lamp, and glanced around me, I saw a man sitting, his bare legs dangling over the side. Down his pale face ran great drops of sweat, and his eyes were staring, glassy, and fixed. One or two of his mates tumbled out; others poked their heads over the bunk-boards and swore that it couldn’t be eight bells already. But the man still gazed over and beyond us with that horrible stare in his dilated eyes, and when I laid my hand on him [289] ]he was rigid. Then one who, in place of drinking his ‘tot’ of rum that night, had treasured it up for another time, produced it; and, laying the man back, and forcing open the clenched teeth, we got some of it down his throat; and presently he came to himself and sat up.
His first words were,—