"How would you like to be cook an' have some one poking around an' tellin' you what to do?"
"Golly! I reckon you is right," the little darkey admitted, "I wouldn't stand such doin's. 'Spect dough dat my good clothes is all spoiled. Dat water was powerful greasy."
"Better dry them out and lay them away," Walter suggested. "They are too fine to wear at sea. You had ought to save them 'till we get in port."
Both boys were glad when Chris accepted the suggestion. They could see that the crew regarded the little fellow in his gay apparel with a contempt and ridicule that the plucky, loyal little lad did not deserve.
Under her shortened canvas, the "Beauty" had dropped to the rear of the fleet. Late in the afternoon the schooners ahead began to shorten sail. Soon one rounded up into the wind, dropped anchor and lowered sail. A mile further on another one anchored, a mile beyond another took in sail, until at last the whole fleet was strung out in a long line reaching many miles North and South.
The captain held the "Beauty" on her course until the last schooner was passed then anchored, lowered sails and made everything snug.
"We are on the sponging grounds," he explained to the boys who had been puzzled by the fleet's maneuvers. "To-morrow we make our first try as spongers."
As soon as their supper was finished the boys strolled forward to view the crew at their meal.
The Greeks ate in groups of four. Each group had a great tin pan filled with some kind of stew. This they divided into four equal portions with their big spoons, all eating from the same pan.
The stew, black bread as hard as a rock, and ripe olives constituted their meal, but the boys, hearty eaters themselves, were astounded at the amount of food each Greek disposed of.