The mate descended through a small hatchway by an upright ladder into a dark place, where Peter, as he was bid, followed him. He could hear the mate’s voice, but could not distinguish him in the gloom, which at first appeared impenetrable.
“Come here,” cried the mate. “What, are you blind?”
Peter was stretching out his hands trying to grope his way. By degrees a glimmer of light which came down the hatchway enabled him to distinguish old Jim, and as his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, he discovered that he was in a triangular-shaped place, with shelves on either side which formed the bunks or standing bed-places of the crew, the heel of the bowsprit making a division in the fore part. Some chests were on the floor, and thick coats, sou’-westers, with numerous other articles, were hung up against the bulk-heads, which formed the third side of the forepeak.
“That’s your berth,” said old Jim, pointing to the foremost sleeping-place in the bow of the vessel. “The boy who has gone has left his blankets, so you will have the use of them. And mind when you are called you turn out pretty quick; we cannot have laggards aboard the Polly.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Peter, depositing his bundle in the dark, close-smelling bunk. “I am accustomed to be afoot by daybreak, to look after Farmer Ashton’s sheep.”
“You will have something different from sheep to look after; and night and day at sea are the same. All hands don’t turn in and sleep till the sun is up, or the ship would be apt to lose her way.”
A laugh at the mate’s wit from some of the other men who had followed them into the forepeak, was heard out of the darkness. When the mate was gone, they gathered round Peter and began to amuse themselves at his expense. He, however, took their jeers quietly, not attempting to reply; indeed, as he did not clearly understand their meaning, the jokes generally fell harmless. Finding at length that they could not irritate him, they told him to go on deck to help Bill. Bill was the man who did duty as cook. Peter found him in the caboose; he was as black and grimy as a negro, with grease and coal-dust.
“They told me you wanted me, Bill,” said Peter.
“Yes,” growled Bill, “clean out those pots and wash up the dishes and plates in that tub. Here is some hot water for you.”
Peter performed the work to the cook’s satisfaction. He gave him some bread and a piece of bacon for his supper, as he had eaten nothing since the afternoon.