He afterwards went aft to the skipper’s cabin, bringing forwards from thence a stout piece of cord, with the ends frayed into lashes like those of a whip, which had evidently seen a good deal of service. This “cat” he handed deferentially to the commander of the brig; who, seizing it firmly in his right fist, and holding the handspike still in his left, as if to be prepared for all emergencies, began to lay stroke upon stroke on our shoulders with a dexterity which Dr Hellyer would have envied, without being able to rival.
It was the most terrible thrashing that either Tom or myself had ever experienced before; and, long ere the skipper’s practised arm had tired, our fortitude broke down so, that we had fairly to cry for mercy.
“You’ll never stow yourself away on board my brig again, will you?” asked our flagellator of each of us alternately, with an alternate lash across our backs to give emphasis to his question, making us jump up from the deck and quiver all over, as we tried in vain to wriggle out of the lashings with which we were tied.
“No, I won’t,” screamed out Tom, the tears running down his cheeks from the pain of the ordeal. “I’ll promise you never to put my foot within a mile of her, if you let me off!”
“And so will I, too,” I bawled out quickly, following suit to Tom.
I can really honestly aver that we both meant what we said, most sincerely!
“All right then, you young beggars; that’ll do for your first lesson. The thrashing will pay your footing for coming aboard without leave. Jorrocks, you can cut these scamps down now, and find them something to do in the fo’c’s’le—make ’em polish the ring-bolts if there’s nothing else on hand!”
So saying, the skipper, satisfied with taking our passage money out of our hides, walked away aft; while Jorrocks began to cast loose our lashings, with many whispered words of comfort, which he was afraid to utter aloud, mixed up with comments on the captain’s conduct.
“He’s a rough customer to deal with—as tough as they make ’em,” said he, confidentially, removing the last bight round Tom’s body and setting him free; “but, he’s all there!”
“So he is,” said Tom, with much decision, rubbing his sore shoulders. “I will vouch for the truth of that statement!”