“Well, come along then—we’re off this minute, and can’t wait for the other fellow. You may take his place—only be spry about it.”
Here the man, who was captain of the brig, gave some orders in a loud tone to the crew, which were unintelligible to Jerry. In a moment the brig was hauled to along side the vessel in which Jerry was waiting, and, in his confusion scarcely knowing what he did, he quickly jumped over the railing, into the brig. The sailors then re-commenced hauling her out from the dock into the stream. Jerry threw his bundle down upon the deck, and stood watching the movements of those around him. He could scarcely realize that he was going to sea, in this unceremonious manner, and began to suspect that the sailors were playing a joke upon him. But all seemed in earnest, and as busy as they could be, and on the whole he concluded they were not sporting with him. No one spoke to him, however, or set him to work, and as he was as yet totally unacquainted with the duties of a sailor-boy, he did not venture to volunteer his services. But his long-cherished hopes were realized, and his heart beat fast at the prospect before him. Strange boy! He had shipped with no outfit for the voyage, and he did not know where he was bound, nor even the name of the vessel, or of the captain. He did not know what wages he was to receive, what duties he was expected to perform, or how long he was to be absent. And yet he thought of none of these things, so delighted was he to find himself actually afloat. One by one the white sails of the brig were spread to the wind, and she was soon in full headway towards the broad ocean.
CHAPTER XII.
THE SAILOR-BOY.
For the first few hours at sea, Jerry was little better than a piece of lumber, in everybody’s way. Nobody told him what to do, and, indeed, he was pretty diligently employed in watching the quick movements of the sailors, for the purpose of dodging out of their path. But, with all his alertness, he was not quick enough to avoid being sometimes rudely shoved one side, with a muttered imprecation on his head for getting in the way. The city now began to recede rapidly from view. The State House dome, the church spires, and the forest of ship-masts along the water-side, were all that could be distinguished in the city proper. East Boston, with clouds of smoke ascending from its numerous foundries, was in full view in the distance; while nearer at hand, on the right, was South Boston, with its highlands, its large public buildings, and its many work-shops with tall chimneys. The last sound that came from shore, was the striking of the church clocks. There was a brisk north-west wind, before which the brig dashed along at a rapid rate. Soon they were sailing between two fortresses, situated on islands about a mile apart, and commanding the only channel by which large vessels can enter or leave the port. Several other islands were in sight, on some of which there were large buildings. They also passed near two light-houses—tall towers built on islands, with dwelling-houses near by for their keepers. Towards noon, the pilot, whose business it is to guide vessels in and out of the harbor, took leave of the brig, and returned to port in a small sail-boat. But little land was now in sight, and the broad ocean, dotted with white sails, was spread out before them.
The sun shone pleasantly upon the waters, but the wind was raw and cold, and Jerry began to realize that he must stir about to keep warm. He was slowly sauntering along, to see for the fiftieth time if he could find anything to do, when he was accosted in a rough voice by one of the men, who said:—
“Here, you land-lubber, did you ship for a gentleman, or a figure-head, or what do you mean to do with yourself?”
“I mean to do my duty, if anybody will tell me what it is,” replied Jerry, who did not like the tone in which he was addressed, and answered accordingly. The surly manner in which this was said, was more objectionable than the language itself. In an instant, the man to whom it was addressed (who was the chief-mate), gave Jerry a blow with his hard fist, which sent the boy reeling across the deck.
“There, you young snapping-turtle,” said he, “that’s your first lesson; and hereafter look out when you’re spoken to, and give a civil answer, or I’ll crack your tow-head for you. Now bear a hand here, and clean out that pig-pen,” he continued, pointing to a shovel and scrubbing brush standing in one corner.
Pigs and poultry are frequently carried to sea, to furnish a supply of fresh meat for passengers and sailors; but these particular pigs, to whose acquaintance Jerry was so summarily introduced, were themselves passengers, on their way to a foreign land. A small pen had been fitted up for them on deck, and as cleanliness is one of the cardinal virtues on ship-board, it was necessary that they should be continually looked after. And cleaning out a hog-sty was to be Jerry’s first experience of “a life on the ocean wave!” Had any one at home ordered him to do such a job, it is very doubtful whether he would have obeyed; but here, after the lesson he had just received, he dare not refuse or even hesitate, and so he leaped into the pen, scraped up the filth, and threw it overboard.
