‘Who the devil’s that?’ cried the boatswain; ‘some one of the rascals stowed away in the cable tier—hold the lantern, and I’ll haul him out whoever he is.’
Already I thought I felt the rope’s end on my shoulders, when I was unexpectedly relieved from my apprehensions, by the mate calling them on deck to arrange the watches for the night. While they were gone, I squeezed myself behind some boxes, where I was pretty sure they could not get at me. When they came down again, they had forgotten the circumstance; and those whose watch was below got into their hammocks.
A little before daylight, I felt inclined to go on deck, as I was nearly suffocated in my hiding-place, and slipping out cautiously, got up the ladder without disturbing any of them. I had felt pretty well settled, when my head was down; but whenever I got up, the sickness returned, and my stomach being completely empty, my efforts were more distressing. An old sailor who was standing near me advised me to take a drink of salt water. I thought it was a rough cure; I tried it, however, but it was no sooner down than up again.
‘Take another drink,’ said he; I did so—the same result followed. He advised me to take a third.
‘Oh, no,’ said I, ‘I can take no more.’
I then leaned over the lee bow of the vessel; and whether it was the fresh air or the salt water I know not, but I soon got better; and in the course of an hour or two I began to move about pretty briskly.
While I was stirring about, the carpenter came forward to me and inquired if I was sick. No, I said.
‘Will you have any objection to attend our mess?’
‘I don’t know, what have I to do?’
‘Only draw our provision, and boil our kettle morning and evening.’