This doctrine might not appeal to the landsman, and from a certain point of view it might appear unchristian. But, if there was ever a man who practised kindness toward his fellow men, that man was the bos’n of the old pirate barque. He was honest.
I had found that on former cruises to heathen islands and countries, the heathen were usually all right until some of the professed Christians appeared to convert them. Afterward the histories of these places were of a somewhat sinister character, and, if ever there was an exception to prove the rule, I had never heard tell of it. Every so-called Christian country had allowed and advanced all kinds of oppression among natives. Whether this was for their spiritual welfare or not, it is not necessary to inquire, the fact was always the same. Therefore, I was interested in our future course, but, from the steady discipline and forbearance of the officers, expected to see very little of the usual kind of conversion. Every ship full of canting religionists came home full of black murder and worse. There was much more to be expected from a vessel whose after-guard stood for easy ship in regard to these matters.
Sometimes, in the evening dog-watches, Richards would even take the liberty of coming into the forecastle and joining in the talk, or sitting upon the forecastle head in the warm wind and listening to a chanty roared out by Martin or some one who had served in the Eastern trade-ships. One of the favourite songs, made up from different snatches heard either upon the men-of-war or along the dock-ends of Liverpool, ran something like this:
“We had come to anchor fine, sir,
In a vessel o’ the line, sir,
We had cruised for five years steady
Upon the Southern Seas--
When a boat from off the shore, sir,
Brought a lady out aboard, sir,
She was black as soot an’ mud, sir,