And with that he hit me over the head with a wooden belaying-pin, and the blow brought me senseless to the deck.
The Mate strikes a heavy blow.
CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH PHIL ASCERTAINS THE DESTINATION OF THE MICHIGAN.
When my senses came back to me I was lying in my bunk in the forecastle. Old Jack Sanderson was rubbing my head with spirits.
"How do you feel, Phil?" asked the old salt, tenderly.
"My head!" was all the reply I could make, for everything seemed to be whirling around, and to be as unsteady as the rolling ocean itself.