Sea air and insomnia are deadly enemies, and before one bell struck, a chorus of snores assured Dick that his companions were asleep. He suffered a few minutes over the half hour to elapse, and then slipped noiselessly from his bunk. Gliding to the open door, he looked stealthily out. That side of the deck was thrown into shadow by the forecastle, and no one was to be seen but two of the watch on duty slowly walking up and down the main deck, as they conversed in low tones. The others were doubtless on the opposite side of the forward-house.
Dick turned from the door, waited a moment to be sure that all were asleep in the bunks around him, and then produced a towel. Next he took down the lantern from its hook overhead, and wrapped the towel about it so that the light was invisible. That done, he made for the door,—stepped out on deck,—and crept forward in the shadow of the building.
Upon reaching the corner, he stopped and listened The distant murmur of voices was heard on the opposite side of the house, but the moonlit stretch of deck ahead was untenanted. Apparently no one was about the extreme forward part of the vessel except the lookout. The boy’s unshod feet made no sound as he darted across the strip of moonlight that fell between the forward-house and the forecastle deck. Now he was standing by the open fore hatch.
In large sailing vessels that stand well out of water, it is customary to leave the fore hatch off at all times unless some very severe gale is threatened. The forecastle deck overhead prevents rain or salt water from entering, and as it is often necessary to go down to the fore peak half a dozen times a day, it would be a useless trouble to move the hatch-cover each time. This was the case with the Western Belle.
Dick well knew he could not enter the lazarette at the customary place without being seen by the man at the wheel and the officer on duty, and had conceived the laborious, but perfectly feasible plan, of descending through the fore hatch to the ’tween-decks, and then crawling aft over the cargo the whole length of the vessel to accomplish his purpose.
Without losing time, he placed his foot upon the first step of the flight of stairs that led down to the fore peak, and then rapidly descended. It was black as Erebus when he reached the bottom, and before taking another step he uncovered the lantern and stuffed the towel in his pocket. Cautiously walking over old sails, ropes, barrels, casks, etc., the boy was soon out of the fore peak proper, and at that part of the ’tween-decks where the cargo began to be stowed.
The foremast looming up ahead gave him quite a start, and a sort of dread possessed him at thought of the long distance to be traversed in that profound darkness. Dick had not realized until now the magnitude of the task before him, but he only wavered a second, and pushed on.
It soon became impossible to walk, and he dropped on his hands and knees, creeping along on all fours; at the same time holding the handle of the lantern between his teeth. Its rays illumined but a short space in front, though they served to make the gaunt deck-beams assume all sorts of strange and fantastic shapes that he could not help noticing. Thus he crawled along over bales of flax and tow, boxes of Kauri gum and sacks of horns; picking his way carefully, and impatiently wondering how far he had progressed. This was at length made plain, though in an unexpected manner.
In attempting to accelerate his speed, the boy had grown a little careless, when he suddenly felt his left hand go off into space, and barely saved himself from plunging headlong downward. The shock was a severe one, and he drew a deep breath of relief when he had backed away from the yawning aperture.
“Fool!” he muttered; “I clean forgot the main hatch. I like to have fell all the way down to the lower hold and broke my neck. Well, Dick, you’re half way, anyhow.”