'Dere's Goh Syn Koh says de men's dinner to-day is allee same as yesterday,' said the man.
'You mean pork and pease-soup?'
'Yaas, sah,' answered the fellow, nodding with an Eastern swiftness of gesture.
'Just so. Pork and pease-soup. You threw your allowance overboard yesterday. I have not ordered pork and pease-soup to be given to you two days running as a punishment!—oh dear no!' he went on with a greasy chuckle coming out, as it were, from the heart of his roll of chins. 'What! punish a crew by giving them plenty to eat? No, no! I simply intend that you and the rest of you shall know that I am captain of this ship, and that I must have my way!'
'Dat is proper,' exclaimed Nakier. 'No man ever say no to dat. But we no eat pork. We sooner eat dirt. We will not eat pease-soup; it is gravy of pork. We sooner drink tar.'
'Can you conceive such bigotry, such superstition, in men who are really, Miss Nielsen, not totally wanting in brains?' exclaimed the Captain, turning to Helga.
She looked away from him.
'Nakier,' he continued, 'you know, my good fellow, there must be a beginning. Have you ever tasted pork?'
'No, sah; it is against my religion!' cried the man vehemently.
'Your religion!' exclaimed the Captain. 'Alas, poor man! it is not religion—it is superstition of the most deplorable kind! and, since every captain stands as father to his crew, it is my duty, as your father for the time, to endeavour to win you, my children, for the time, to a knowledge of the truth!' He glanced askew at Helga, and proceeded: 'You will begin by eating each of you a mouthful of pork. I do not expect much—just one mouthful apiece to begin with. You may then follow on with a meal of salt-beef. The first step is everything. My idea is to deal with one superstition at a time. Why should pork be unfit for you? It is good for this lady; it is good for me; for this gentleman; for Wise there. Are we inferior to you, Nakier, that we should be willing to eat what you and my poor dark crew—dark in mind as in skin—profess to disdain?'