"God bless you, Mr. Morton, it is you indeed—I thought 'twas a raft of them thundering sojers bearing down upon us. I've been lying to, under the lee of this 'ere bush, for this two hours or more, waiting for you."
The parleying between their "look-out ship," as they called Jones, and the strangers, attracted the whole party of the Albatross to the spot; and Morton, to his surprise, found himself and his companions surrounded by at least thirty well-armed men. His friend Walker, the second mate of the ship, advanced, and testifying the sincerest affection, welcomed him once more to liberty and the company of his shipmates. Kind greetings and hearty welcomes were given by the seamen, in their blunt, straight-forward way, and not a few jokes were passed upon the four liberated tars by their light-hearted messmates.
"I say, Tom Wentworth, how much grub did the Don Degos allow you? a rat a-piece, or the hind leg of a jackass among the four of you?"
"Ay," said another, "and Sundays they had a jackass's head stewed in a lantern, and stuffed with sogers' coats."
"Yes," said a third, "and green-hide soup three times a week."
"Seasoned with brick-dust and pig-weeds," said a fourth, "by way of red pepper and cabbages."
"Well, never mind what they've had," said old Tom Jones, interposing, "one thing's sartain, they ha'n't had any steam, that's jist as clear as mud."
"You're idle there, old Tom Pipes; we've had as much good wine as we could lay our sides to. But howsomever, if you've got any white-eye in that black betty that you're rousing out of your pea-jacket pocket, I don't much care if I take a drop."
"Poor children!" said the boatswain, "they've been kept this whole week in a snug, warm caliboose, and they'll catch cold if they're out in the night air."
So saying, he offered his junk-bottle of New England to Morton, who declined it, and it was then passed to his four fellow-prisoners, who took a long, deliberate, steady aim at the stars through it in succession.