After a while there was a sort of lull. The great water-butt that the sailors had been lowering down the hatchway had reached the hold below, and been rolled into its place, and this produced a temporary cessation in the noises.
Just then one of the sailors chanced to set his eyes upon me; and, after regarding me with a comic leer, cried out—
“Ho! my little marlin-spike! What might you be wantin’ aboard?—goin’ to ship, eh?”
“No,” rejoined a second; “don’t yer see he’s a captain hisself?—got his own craft there!”
This remark was made in allusion to my schooner, which I had brought along with me, and was holding in my hands.
“Schooner ahoy!” shouted a third of the men. “Whither bound?”
This was followed by a burst of laughter from all hands, who were now aware of my presence, and stood regarding me as though I was something extremely ludicrous in their eyes.
I was rather abashed by this reception on the part of the rough tars, and remained for some moments without knowing what to say or do. But I was relieved from my uncertainty by the mate in the blue jacket, who, approaching me, asked, in a more serious tone, what was my business aboard.
I replied that I wanted to see the captain. Of course I believed that there was a captain, and that he was the proper person to whom I should address myself in regard to the business I had in view.
“Want to see the captain!” echoed my interrogator. “And what might be your business with him, youngster? I’m the mate: won’t I do?”