Once over the bar, we got nearly before the wind with a staggering breeze, and went along right merrily. Our representative of all the Juliets and Julias had a pretty voice; the Kemble of the company, a fine, tall, good-tempered fellow, sang duets and trios well enough for a tragedian; a chorus was easily mustered out of the remaining members of the corps who continued fit for duty; and we roused old Ocean with "When the wind blows," until he became too obstreperous in his emulation, and fairly drowned our melody.
The wind did blow, at last, in such a sort as to disperse our chorus; the schooner was about forty tons measurement, sharp as a wedge below, and not over three feet and a half between decks; the cabin was about the same square measurement, with two little berths, into which we stowed the ladies, the managers and the principals occupying the remaining space; in the hold, over the ballast, the rest of the company stowed themselves away.
To penetrate either of these close quarters I found utterly impossible: all were ill save the stout tragedian; comedy, farce, and opera, ballet and band, the manager, his subjects and his properties, were alike disorganized and overwhelmed. I resolved therefore on keeping the deck as I best could, by the help of a stout dread-nought, a pocket-full of cigars, and a mild infusion of old cognac, provided for me by a considerate friend.
Within two hours, the wind had gradually increased until it blew a gale: the foresail was taken in, the mainsail close-reefed, and the saucy boat flew along before it like a gull, the following seas just kissing the edge of her taffrail, as she slipped away before them.
Our pilot, the owner of the craft, was a careful and steady old Bristol-man, but somewhat nervous and timid: his regular crew consisted of two fine white boys, apprentices, and a couple of stout slaves: we had, in addition, taken on board an old apprentice of the pilot's, who as we started had volunteered to accompany his once master. This was a droll subject, a regular long-sided dare-devil of a South Carolinian: he was full three sheets in the wind when we sailed, and managed to keep the steam up by the contributions liberally proffered during our short season of festivity.
As the gale freshened this fellow showed out; when a sail was to be handed or a reef taken in, he was a crew in himself; one of the coolest and smartest fellows I ever met, but somewhat profane in his humour, and rather hard upon the nerves of the chief: few of his sayings will bear repetition; but the exaggeration of his figures of speech, the wild fantastic spirit of reckless humour by which he was governed, I shall not lose sight of; during the night I supplied him with cigars, and with his oddness wore away the time. One little bit of dialogue will describe this wild man of the water better than any words of mine. We had already taken in two reefs when the pilot gave directions "Stand by to lower away the peak."
"Ay, ay," sang out his aide, as he sprang nimbly to the foot of the mast; adding, "but what the devil are you going to do now, stranger?"
"Bear a hand!" cried the senior, "take in another reef!"
"What! you're afear'd little Wash-the-water goes through it too fast, are you, old man?"
"To be sure: I don't want to get off the bar before daylight."