"Things culminated on a moonlight night when we were charging along before a quartering whole sail breeze, making, I should judge, about eleven knots. I was on lookout, as usual, and keeping a good one I know, even though my eyes would half close at times from sheer need of sleep. It was about seven bells of the first watch and for some reason or other—perhaps the strong moonlight, which keeps some people awake—both the skipper and the first mate were on deck, and standing aft near the wheel, while Mr. Parker stood his watch on the poop forward of the after house. The men walked up and down between the fore and main rigging.
"A faint light showed up ahead and to leeward. I opened my eyes wide to make sure, and saw the faint shadowy outlines of hull and canvas—a ship close hauled across our bows. Then I sang out:
"'Light ho! Ship on the port tack two points off the starboard bow, sir!'
"'Light ho, is it?' bellowed the skipper. 'Put another man on lookout and send that scow bunker aft here, Mr. Parker!'
"A man came and relieved me. Wondering what was up now, I went aft, and the skipper and two mates met me at the break of the poop.
"'You get up there to the weather maintopsail yard arm, you —— blind-eyed farmer,' snarled the skipper, 'and keep your lookout there! D'ye hear? I saw that light ten minutes before you sang out.'
"'I reported it as soon as I saw it, sir,' I answered civilly.
"'None o' your lip! Get up there! And say—'
"I had answered and turned, in no way bothered by the change. I was to put in the rest of the night on the yard; but I could sit down and rest my bones.
"The skipper modified this. 'You keep your lookout there, and when the bell strikes, you call out, "All's well, weather maintopsail yard arm!" Then you flap your arms like wings, and crow like a rooster, and, you say, "God bless Captain Black, and Mr. Macklin, and Mr. Parker!" D'you hear?'