I started down the ratlines, but, before going over the futtock-shrouds, I looked at the last bit of light on the western sky-line.
It seemed to me I saw a bit of a speck showing on the darkening horizon. Bill was opposite me, and I called to him to look. He gazed steady for a few seconds.
“Youst like a brig’s royals, them little dots,” said he, and went on down the ratlines to the deck.
I followed, and forgot to report the object in the hurry and hustle to get the anchor in on deck and everything shipshape for sea.
CHAPTER XXXII.
OPEN MUTINY
My! How those blacks did smell! We had worked well into the night, only stopping to eat supper, and, when we did go below to turn in, all tired out, the odour was something to remember. The wind being aft, the cabin was clear, but the forecastle was pretty bad, and we had only just started.
“It makes a fellow feel like goin’ out an’ getting rid o’ some o’ his crimes,” said Big Jones, sniffing and spitting upon the deck.
“Hif dirt’s a crime, you’d been hung long ago,” observed Jim. “Better turn in with hit.”
“Too hot,” said Bill. “It’s youst a little too hot fer me. I’ve sweated all the water out of me working, an’ I don’t want to sweat sleepin’. I’ll take the deck an’ let her go.”
“A man’s ’bout one-third water, anyways, according to some o’ them doctors’ sayings,” drawled Shannon, who lounged in his bunk.